#i hope for their sake they grew up or will grow up someday because it seems like it would be miserable being them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dragoneyes618 · 8 months

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The most recent generation bar one of the wealthy Fitzwarren family of England consisted of two sons: Peter, the elder by two years, and Richard, his younger brother. Despite growing up with the undercurrent of tension that the knowledge that Peter, as the firstborn, would inherit the majority of their father's wealth as well as his title created, the two brothers were the best of friends. As boys, they were each other's favorite playmate. As they grew older, they attended the same school (Eton), with each of them graduating nearly at the top of their class. They befriended the same people, ran in the same circles, and they even married sisters, Daphne and Emily Podwell, in the same year.

Here is where their fortunes began to differ. For while Richard and Emily were blessed with a child, a baby boy, scarcely a year after they were married, Peter and Daphne were not.

Nor were they blessed with a child after the second year of their marriage.

Or the third, or the fourth, or the fifth.

And so Julian Fitzwarren grew up with the knowledge, always in the back of his mind, that someday he would be the sole inheritor of the Fitzwarren title, manor, and fortune.

He was five years old when his grandfather, Lord Fitzwarren, died. He didn't remember him well, only in fragments- a silver-tipped cane, crinkled blue eyes.

He remembered the funeral-standing amid a sea of adult legs in a suit that itched; his mother clutching the golden locket around her neck, identical to the one her sister had, tightly in her right hand; his father's face controlled, emotionless.

He also remembered, around the time his uncle was officially confirmed Lord Peter Fitzwarren, overhearing his mother tell his father, "It's only money, Richard."

"It's not only money!" Julian's father exclaimed. "It's also the title, it's our son's future, it's-Julian, what are you doing here? Go back to bed."

So Julian never heard the end of that conversation.

It must be stated here that Richard Fitzwarren had developed a small gambling problem. Small, but a problem nevertheless, and he soon owed money to several different people. This led to friction between Richard and Peter. Peter restricted Richard's access to the family finances, saying that many a noble family had been driven o ruin because of gambling issues. Richard pointed out that if his brother allowed him enough money to pay his creditors, they wouldn't have this problem. Peter noted that if anything, the opposite was true. Emily and Daphne begged their husbands to get along, if only for their sake. Eventually, Richard, with the help of his wife, was able to manage and control his gambling problem. Mostly.

All this Julian was supposed to know nothing about, but he knew everything. Adults so often forget how perceptive children are.

It didn't particularly affect him, however. It was all under control. Besides, one day he would be Lord Fitzwarren anyway, so what did it matter?

This attitude, unfortunately, accompanied him throughout his young adult life-the attitude of I am wealthy, and I will be even wealthier, so I can do what I want.

And then Rose was born.

Rose was born when Julian was fifteen and Daphne and Peter had all but given up hope of ever having children.

When Julian's family heard the news, Emily was overjoyed that her sister had become a mother at last, but Richard was oddly stiff hen he shook his brother's hand; he kept glancing at Julian and muttering things like, "A loss for you, my boy."

At first, Julian was not particularly perturbed. Girls couldn't inherit, could they?

Actually, now they could, it turned out.

Then Julian understood how his father felt.

Rose was weak and sickly when she was born. She had to be kept away from other people until she gained strength, so Julian and his parents didn't get to meet her until she was healthy, when she was six months old.

Peter and Daphne greeted them in the front parlor. It was the first time Julian had seen either of them since before the baby's birth. His uncle looked ten years younger, and his aunt was almost glowing.

Emily and Daphne hugged each other, laughing and crying; Richard shook hands with Peter and clapped him on the back, but he seemed tense.

Then the nurse entered with the baby.

Daphne scooped baby Rose up and held her tenderly while Peter-who had always been stately and dignified-made silly faces at his daughter.

Then Daphne held Rose out to Julian. "Come, meet your cousin," she urged.

Interested despite himself, Julian stepped forward. So this was her: the baby that, as the eldest child of the eldest child, would inherit the Fitzwarren fortune, estate, everything, leaving Julian with nothing-or to be micromanaged, as his father had been by his brother, by this baby girl fifteen years his junior.

Rose had a few wisps of pale blonde hair and big dark blue eyes. She scrunched up her nose.

Then her gaze fell on Julian. She blinked. Then she giggled, a peal of innocent laughter ringing out in that old house that had not heard the sound of happy children in far too long.

Julian hated her already.

Julian and his parents began spending a lot more time at his aunt and unc-his cousin's. Apparently it was good for him and Rose to get to know each other. Not to mention that it was also good for the future Fitzwarren heir to grow up on good terms with her cousin and aunt and uncle. Not that anyone spoke of this to Julian, of course. Honestly, for how long would they insist on treating him like a child? He was nearly sixteen!

Two years passed in this way.

His mother loved to spend time with her sister and niece. Even his father seemed to loosen a little.

Julian was mostly bored on these visits. Rose was a toddler. She wouldn't remember this anyway. What was the point?

Besides, Rose, by dint of being born, had stolen his inheritance. From him! Why were they bootlicking her in this way? She was an infant!

He didn't voice these thoughts to anyone, though. They would be deemed too childish, too petty.

The main parlor of Fitzwarren Manor was set up like this: It was a big room, with several small tables and soft sofas at the sides, and a slightly bigger table near the entrance. There was a crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. In the center was a grand staircase, which led up to a small fenced-in indoor balcony that had hallways branching off into the house from either side. Rose loved to go up onto the balcony and look down on everyone else. It made her feel big.

Julian was sitting at the top of the staircase by the fence, listening to his father and his uncle disagree about something while pretending they weren't disagreeing. His mother and his aunt exchanged identical worried looks.

Two-year-old Rose toddled over and wrapped her arms around her aunt's knees. Emily laughed and kissed her niece on the cheek, but she sounded tense.

"Have it your way, Peter," Richard snapped, turning on his heel and stalking away.

"I'm sorry-" Emily started.

"Julian!" Richard called. "We're leaving!"

"Yes, Father," Julian said obediently. He put away the pocketknife he had received for his seventeenth birthday-really, did his parents think he was thirteen?-stood up without holding on to the balcony railing or the banister, and walked down the steps.

As he joined the others, Daphne, in a transparent effort to change the subject, said, "Julian, why do you so often sit on the top of the stairs? Our company isn't good enough for you anymore?"

"Of course, not, Aunt," Julian said, inwardly tensing slightly. "I just like the view."

"We'll see you tomorrow?" Emily asked Daphne.

"I hope so," Daphne said.

Peter and Richard both grunted, sounding identical, and then each pretended that he hadn't noticed the other.

Daphne and Emily exchanged helpless looks.

Julian kept his face expressionless, but inwardly, he was rolling his eyes.

Rose looked worried.

The entire next day, Emily kept pushing Peter to apologize. "They're our only family, Richard!" Julian overheard her once. "My sister! Your brother! Do you really want to estrange them over such a petty-"

Then they both noticed Julian and changed the subject.

So they were going to keep this charade up, then? Did they think he was blind to the tension between his father and his uncle?

In the late afternoon, Richard finally gave in to his wife's persistence. "Fine! I'll go talk to him tomorrow!"

"No," Emily said firmly. "You're going now."

Richard sighed.

"And I'm coming with you," she added.

"May I come too?" Julian requested. "I would like to see Rose."

And so all three of them called upon Fitzwarren Manor as dusk fell.

In the main parlor, Peter and Richard stood facing each other, not yet saying anything. Emily and Daphne stood a few metres away, each sister keeping an eye on her husband. Julian, meanwhile, had been sent away from the adults to "play" with Rose.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping now?" Julian asked his young cousin.

Rose shook he head, golden hair bouncing this way and that. "No!" she announced

"All right, all right," Julian acquiesced. "Well, would you like to play something?"

Rose nodded vigorously.

"How about peek-a-boo?" Julian suggested. "Go up to the balcony and play peek-a-boo with me from there."

"Yes!" Rose said. She began to climb determinedly up the staircase, stopping after each step to look behind her and make sure Julian was still there.

Finally she reached the top of the staircase. She leaned against the wooden bars of the balcony and, covering her eyes with her hands, said "Peek-a-"

She was cut off by a loud CRACK.

The noise caught the attention of the other adults, and for a moment they watched in mute horror as the wooden bars of the fence Rose was leaning against broke and the two-year-old heir, too shocked to scream, plummeted to the floor nine metres below.

The world stood still and silent for a moment, a little figure in pink falling slowly, almost floating, yet dropping so, so fast.

Hold up your arms, Julian thought to himself, and he raised them slightly above his head.

Then Julian was abruptly shoved aside; he stumbled, caught himself, and turned just in time to see his uncle catch Rose moments before she would have hit the floor.

The impact drove Peter backward; he staggered back a few steps before regaining his balance, keeping an iron grip on Rose all the while.

Daphne rushed over, and Emily, and even Richard, and they all crowded around the shocked, silent Rose in Peter's arms.

Then Rose gasped, and burst into tears, the tears of a healthy toddler, and Daphne started crying also, and even Peter blinked back tears, suddenly terrifyingly aware of how close he had come to losing his only child.

"Should I send for a doctor?" Richard offered, his earlier quarrel with Peter all but forgotten in the spectre of near death.

"She's safe," Daphne half sobbed, seizing Rose and clutching her to her chest. "You're safe."

Peter looked up at the broken balcony fence. "What, exactly, just happened?"

Investigation of the fence revealed that several of the bars had been half sawed through with a knife, so that they would break if pressure was applied, such as a small girl leaning against it.

"Someone did this on purpose?" Daphne asked in disbelief.

Peter sighed heavily and ran his hand through his hair. "It looks like it, dear."

"But who? And how? And...why?"

Peter answered all her questions with a simple, "We don't know."

The servants were interrogated. all of them claimed to know nothing, and all of them either had strong alibis or had been trusted members of the Fitzwarren household for years.

"You can know someone for years and find out he isn't the kind of person you thought he was," Richard muttered darkly.

"Richard, not now," Emily hissed.

No concrete conclusion was arrived at, but eventually the furor died down. Rose had no further "accidents," and thankfully was too young to remember what har family had started calling "the incident."

One day when Rose was four, she insisted that Julian play hide-and-seek with her. Which, in Julian's opinion, was absurd. He was nineteen. What was he doing, playing childish games with an infant fifteen years younger than him?

But no one ever listened to Julian's opinion anyway.

His mother gave him a look that said she would be very disappointed in him if he didn't drop everything and play with Rose. Well, if that was the worst punishment she could think of, he was fortunate.

His mother was always saying how good it was that her only child and her sister's only child should be so close.

And his father was always saying that it would be good to endear himself to the Fitzwarren heir, even when she was very young.

And his aunt was always worried that Rose had no one to play with.

And that was how Julian ended up playing hide-and-seek with his cousin fifteen years his junior.

This was humiliating.

As Rose skipped along the hallway of one of the lower levels of Fitzwarren Manor, a necklace bounced against her chest. Julian realized it was a golden locket, identical to the one his mother and his aunt had.

Actually, had Daphne been wearing her locket-which she always wore-earlier? He thought not.

So his aunt had given her locket, identical to his mother's locket, treasured tokens of the sister's love for each other, to her precious daughter.

He wondered how his mother would feel upon learning that her sister had given away the locket she had gifted Daphne on her wedding day-the twin of the one Daphne had given Emily on her wedding day-even if it had been given to Rose.

Probably she would be just fine with it.

Rose was still a baby, really. You didn't trust babies with items of sentimental value, or heirlooms.

(Or inheritances...)

"Julian!" Rose said, interrupting his reverie. "Who hides first?"

Julian looked at his young cousin, considering. Still, perhaps this was an opportunity.

"Rose," he said, "shall I show you some excellent hiding places?"

Peter found Julian reading in an armchair in the library.

"Julian." He sounded pleased, but surprised. "I thought you were playing a game with Rose?"

Julian looked up from Bleak House. "She wandered away somewhere. I thought she didn't want to play anymore. Why, isn't she with you?"

"No." Peter sounded concerned already.

Well, of course he would be. Rose is his only child. And heir.

At first, everyone assumed that Rose had simply been distracted by something, or maybe fallen asleep. She would show up sooner or later.

But she didn't.

The search for Rose began in earnest, and grew more frantic as time went on.

Fitzwarren Manor was big, and there were a lot more places for a little girl to hide than Julian would have thought. His legs began to ache and his throat began to grow hoarse from walking up and down the hallways over and over calling Rose's name. Still, Julian reminded himself, it would all be worth it in the end.

Rose was not found.

Daphne was on the verge of summoning the police when suddenly one of the maids cried, "Lady Fitzwarren! Lady Fitzwarren!" and came running up, dragging with her by the hand a red-eyed, tear-streaked Rose.

The reactions of the other Fitzwarrens were pretty much the same as they were after Rose's fall from the balcony-crying, hugging, etc. Of course they were.

Don't be so childish, Julian berated himself. You'll have other chances.

"How can we ever thank you?" Peter was asking the maid who had found Rose.

"'Twas no trouble, sir," the maid said, ducking her head bashfully. "Anyone would've done it. I was just doing my job."

"Where did you find her, Beth?" Daphne asked, hugging Rose tightly.

Apparently, Beth the maid had been sent to the cellar on an errand and had heard crying coming from a small storage room at the very farthest end of the cellar, the door of which had somehow gotten locked from the outside.

If Beth had bot been sent to the cellar...if she had not gone as far in as she did(which hardly anyone ever did)...if Rose's cries had been any quieter...the young Fitzwarren heir would not have been found for hours, days, weeks. And by the time she was found, it would have been too late.

Rose, being only four, would later remember nothing of this episode except that she was left with a fear of small, dark places.

(The asylum, later on, did not help with this. Neither did having to hide in a secret room in the basement of Rookwood School.)

She was also left with a lingering wariness of her cousin Julian.

Three days after Julian turned twenty-one, Richard and Emily Fitzwarren died when the brakes on their automobile failed during a too-sharp turn and they went straight off the road into a tree.

The inheritance wasn't as much as Julian expected. Apparently his father's gambling issue had been greater than he had thought. And of course, his uncle Peter was in control of most of the family's money.

Everyone cried at the funeral.

Peter immediately invited Julian to live in Fitzwarren Manor with him and his family. They were, after all, the only family he had left.

But Daphne's face was shadowed by suspicion, and she refused to look Julian in the eye. Her face seemed to twist and crumple whenever she saw him, she whisked Rose out of his way, and she had many whispered arguments with her husband.

It was soon common knowledge among the Fitzwarren family members(the ones that were left, anyway), even Rose-adults so often forget how perceptive children are-that Daphne suspected Julian of engineering his parents' accident.

"How can you suspect him of something like this?" Peter demanded. "He's my brother's son!" You really think he would stoop so low?"

"And he's my sister's son!" Daphne shot back. "You think it doesn't break my heart, that my own flesh and blood could do such a thing? He was supposed to go to town with them but changed his mind at the last moment, the brakes had been tampered with-I'm not having him around Rose!"

"I refuse to believe my brother's son capable of such heinous acts!" Peter roared. "He's all I have left of Richard! I'm not going to accuse my only nephew of murder based on nothing but groundless suspicions!"

So it went.

Richard refused to believe that his only brother's only son was capable of what Daphne was suggesting. Daphne, for her part, didn't want to believe that her own sister's only son was capable of murder, but the facts stood, and the events of the past few years suddenly made an awful kind of sense.

Eventually, Peter and Daphne reached an uneasy compromise. Julian would be sent away to university. He would mature there, and only come back to Fitzwarren Manor infrequently. Hopefully, Peter thought, this would give Daphne time to come to her senses and realize that there was no way Julian could have tampered with the automobile. It was unthinkable.

The night before Julian was due to leave, Peter knocked on the door of his room and asked if he could speak to him.

"Of course, Uncle," Julian replied politely.

Peter entered the room and began to pace back and forth, while Julian sat in his chair and watched him unblinkingly.

Peter coughed, cleared his throat, coughed again, and finally began to speak. "Julian," he began, and repeated himself. "Julian. I hope-I hope you realize that this is not a reflection on you."

Julian understood immediately what his uncle was talking about. "Of course, Uncle," he replied. "It's for the best."

"You should know," his uncle continued, "that I do not for one moment believe-what your aunt has said."

"I know," Julian assured him, although he felt slightly queasy.

"She's not thinking straight," Peter said, fiddling with his watch chain. "She's grieving. But I'll talk to her. She'll come around."

"I very much hope so," Julian replied, and then added. "Thank you for all that you've done for me. I-I really do appreciate it."

"Of course." Peter looked surprised. "Of course."

He hesitated, wanting to say more but unsure of how or what. Communication had never been his forte.

He settled for nodding and pumping Julian's hand. Then he left, thinking of his now-broken family. The only thing that had made his brother's death and his wife's accusations bearable, he decided, was Rose.

Barely five minutes after Peter had left one of the maids knocked on Julian's door and informed him that Lady Fitzwarren wished to speak to him in the drawing room.

Julian made his way to the drawing room and entered without knocking, feeling nervous.

Daphne was sitting in a red armchair at the far side of the room. There was no other chair nearby for Julian to sit, and she made no move to invite him to pull one over.

"Hello, Aunt," Julian said, giving her a formal half-bow.

"Julian," Daphne almost hissed.

There were several moments of tight, uncomfortable silence, which Daphne suddenly broke by saying, "I wish you were not my nephew."

Julian decided not to respond. Anything he said would only make it worse.

"If you were not my nephew," Daphne continued, "then my sister would not be your mother, and she would still be alive."

"I-"

"Silence!" she commanded. "Listen to me, Julian Fitzwarren."

She stood up abruptly, drawing herself up to her full height, which was actually two inches shorter than Julian, although it didn't feel like it. He was suddenly struck by her eyes, which looked exactly like his mother's.

"I know what you did," Daphne continued fiercely. "I may not have proof, but I know it, and you know it, and I hope it eats you up inside and never lets you sleep another night! And Rose will know it; I will tell her everything, and she will never trust you. Why have you tried to live with us? Are you waiting for us to die so you can have everything?"

"Of course n-"

"Go!" she shouted. "Go far away from my family, go to your university. And never come back! But know this, Julian Fitzwarren. I am watching you."

Right. Time to regain control of the situation.

"My dear aunt." Julian tipped his hat, forcing his tone to stay polite and emotionless. "You are overwrought by grief. I shall see you later, when you are in a better frame of mind. Good night."

He bowed to her and walked away, out the door.

Behind him, Daphne shouted, "You are a vulture, Julian Fitzwarren!"

Julian closed the door to the drawing room and took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. He was rattled.

His gaze fell on Rose, who had obviously been standing by the door eavesdropping the entire time; her face was pale and her eyes were very wide.

Julian gave her a sardonic bow and left to his room.

University was all right. Some of the classes were interesting. Some of them were boring, of course, but that was only to be expected. He made some new-well, he wouldn't call them friends yet, but definitely friendly associates.

He also made the acquaintance of a lovely young woman named Phyllis; they planned to marry as soon as they graduated from their respective universities and they had enough funds, which, for Julian at least, should definitely not be a problem.

Peter wrote occasional letters, which Julian answered. Sometimes, at his uncle's urging, Julian would spend breaks or holidays at Fitzwarren Manor, but they were always awkward, what with Peter's forced joviality and Daphne glaring at him from the other end of the table.

Rose observed everything that was going on, clutching her locket so tightly it made a mark in her hand.

On one such break, Julian returned to Fitzwarren Manor to find that both Lord and Lady Fitzwarren had fallen ill.

"Just in the past couple of days, sir," the housekeeper explained worriedly. "There wasn't time to notify you."

"With what?" Julian demanded, his mind whirling. "How seriously?"

"Pneumonia," a new voice said. The Fitzwarren family doctor walked into the room. He was an older gentleman, in his sixties, gray-haired, but despite his age, the Fitzwarrens had trusted him with their health since before Julian's birth. He had attended Julian's grandfather in his final illness. "As for how seriously-rather so, I'm afraid. I would have sent for you already, if the staff hadn't told me you were to be returning now. I fear....."

Even after years and years of being in the medical practice, he still could not deliver bad news with the equanimity of some of his colleagues.

Julian nodded in understanding, his ears buzzing. "I see," was all he said.

Peter and Daphne were, indeed, very ill. Scarcely anyone was allowed in the sickroom besides for the doctor, for fear of contagion. This meant that Rose was not allowed to see her parents, no matter how much she begged.

She took to spending all of her time either in her room, in a corner of the kitchen where the staff congregated, or sitting on couches or chairs of various out-of-the-way sitting rooms, warily observing the strange new activity in the house. For, around the second week of Peter and Daphne's illness, Julian had realized that with his aunt and uncle severely ill, and Rose young and timid, he was essentially in charge of Fitzwarren Manor. And, with the sad death of his aunt and uncle, it would be his. Well, Rose's, but Rose was too young. At least that.

So Julian began to make a few changes: the first, assessing the value of the property in the house; the second, replacing much of the household staff with new servants who would know only him as their employer.

Beth was the first to go.

Rose was sitting on the floor of the parlor late at night, her back against the front of an armchair, reading a book.

She heard footsteps, and looked up to see her cousin Julian. Every warning her mother had ever said and all of the strange happenings in the house flashed through her mind, and she jumped up and ran out of the room, weaving through the house to eventually arrive at the servant's staircase and take it upstairs to her room; no one would be on it at this late hour.

Julian sighed. He really would have preferred it differently, but it was clear that his aunt had poisoned his cousin against him. This was a problem. He clenched his fists.

Something caught his eye; he bent and picked up the book Rose had been reading; in her rush to leave, she'd left it on the floor. Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.

Idly, he opened the book to a random page.

"But I don't want to go among mad people," Alice remarked.

"Oh, you can't help that," said the Cat. "We're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad."

Julian closed the book and stood for some time with a pensive look on his face.

Time stretched interminably. Fevers raged, lungs struggled for breath, and Lady Daphne Elizabeth Podwell Fitzwarren died of pneumonia on the fifteenth of March.

On the thirteenth, she called for her solicitor, insisting that several changes be made to her and Peter's will, the force of her persistence becoming so strong that the doctor eventually ordered the solicitor to make the called-for changes, for Lady Fitzwarren's own health.

Julian approached the solicitor as he closed his briefcase outside the sickroom. "May I ask what my aunt had you do?"

"You can ask, but I can't answer." The solicitor shrugged. "Rules of confidentiality and all that. I'm sorry."

"I see..." Julian said slowly. "What's your name, by the way?" he asked as the solicitor stepped out the door.

"Bloodworth," the solicitor called over his shoulder.

On the fourteenth, Rose was admitted into the sickroom, an exception being made just this once. She stayed for hours, and fell asleep next to her mother, heedless of possible contagion, awaking on the morning of the fifteenth to find her mother dead, and herself Lady Fitzwarren.

After her mother's death, Rose stopped speaking, although it took some time for Julian to realize this, since Rose scarcely spoke around him anyway.

Her already troubled sleep began to be even more disturbed; she saw her mother's face, beautiful and pale and unmistakably dead every time she closed her eyes. She went to the kitchen once, to see if she could have a soothing chamomile tea like her mother used to give her whenever she had trouble sleeping, but the cook was new and strange, and so was most everyone else there; one of the new maids asked her what she wanted and she simply stared at all of them for a moment, then ran back to her room.

Julian was walking through the main parlor late at night, carrying a letter to be mailed to Phyllis, when he noticed a flash of white in the shadows on the other side of the room.

He froze.

The figure moved closer.

He laughed suddenly. It was only Rose, in her nightgown, her blue eyes wide. "Rose! What are you doing here at this hour?"

Rose stared blankly at him, her eyes big and eerie.

"Rose!"

Rose showed no reaction.

A chill trailed down Julian's spine. She's sleepwalking. He snapped his fingers in front of Rose's face. "Rose!" he almost shouted.

Rose jumped, her eyes suddenly awake and wild. She looked around in confusion before her eyes settled on Julian.

"You were sleepwalking, Rose," Julian said quietly. What a peculiar girl. "You just walked right across the room, sleeping the whole time. It looked very odd."

Rose frowned.

Julian took a step forward so that his shadow fell beyond her; he loomed over her. He was so much taller than her. "Do you know what they used to say of sleepwalkers in the old days, Rose?"

Rose shook her head, interested despite herself, clutching her locket tightly with her right hand as though it were a protective charm.

Julian smiled sharply. "They said they were possessed by the devil."

Rose turned and fled upstairs.

After his wife's death Peter declined greatly; hope was all but given up for him.

But then, perhaps it was the thought of his daughter, perhaps it was a miracle, but against all odds, Peter rallied and began to recover. His health grew steadier by the day. Rose could now occasionally be seen with a small smile on her face.

Eventually the day came when the doctor pronounced Peter well enough that he no longer needed constant tending.

"Give him this twice a day," the doctor said, handing Julian a small blue cloth bag filled with white powder. "Once in the morning, once in the evening. He should recover within the month; six weeks at the most. Leave the windows open unless it's cold or rainy; he needs fresh air. You can allow your cousin to visit him; she'll lift his spirits considerably, and that can make all the difference. My condolences on the loss of your aunt."

"Yes..." Julian said, holding the bag of powder, only half listening to what the doctor was saying.

After the doctor left, Julian remained staring at the wall for a few minutes. Eventually he arrived at a decision.

He put the blue bag in the back of the bottom drawer of his bureau. Then he want on a walk. He needed fresh air, and he had an errand to run.

Julian assiduously gave his uncle powder from his green bag twice daily, sprinkling it in Peter's tea or broth. But Peter worsened, his fever climbing, his breathing labored, his cough hacking.

Julian told two of his new hired servants to stand guard at the entrance to the sickroom and make sure that Lady Rose would not enter, lest she fall ill as well. And so Rose was left to pace the floor of her room, back and forth, back and forth, almost a prisoner in her own home, in an agony of terror and grief and self-recrimination, wishing she was braver, smarter, more outspoken, something.

Lord Peter William Fitzwarren died on the tenth of April.

At the funeral, Julian wore all black, shed a few genuine tears, and promised to do what was best for his young cousin no matter what.

No one suspected(except perhaps Rose, but she was too scared to say anything and no one would have believed her if she had)that the medicine the doctor had given Julian, which still sat patiently in its blue bag in the bottom of Julian's bureau, was not what he had given his uncle at all.

#scarlet and ivy #rose fitzwarren #julian fitzwarren #fanfiction #writing #sophie cleverly

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2002134340 · 1 year

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I'll never be my mother.

today was my aunt's birthday party and it took place in our house. when I'm in my family's presence I keep getting mixed feelings and thoughts like 'do i love or do I hate these people?'. they've given me love as much as they've hurt me since my birth. I barely see them and when I do, I feel resentful about a lot of things I had to endure over the years for being a part of this family.

I feel troubled and it feels like my throat keeps constricting with words not spoken and screams of pure anger I've never let out. but at the same time, I'm able to look at them and feel fondness and empathize. It's really hard trying to be the first emotionally responsible person in your household.

as the night followed through I got a little fed up of hearing hurtful words my aunt directed at my grandmother in a passive-agressive tone and watching my brother being annoyingly touchy with my sister-in-law in public, so I just got up and left. no one came after me, because I've been doing this for years. and I can assure that it's not just about running off of 'social battery' or anything like it, it's just that I truly don't know if I like those people. I've been alive for over two decades and I've been forced to coexist with them for several years and I still don't know if I'd even like them in the slightest if they weren't family - maybe I would, actually, because they treat strangers better than they've treated me in a lot of situations. I still can't be in the same room as them for more than two consecutive hours without wanting to just run away for I keep getting a whiplash of memories of the days when they all contributed to the emotional and financial hardships I've been through all my life.

and my mother told me it'd get better with time. she told me I would naturally stop being so 'antisocial' and that I would grow up and I'd be able to hold boring conversations up like she does. I would be able to spend time with my family like the normal person she figured I'd become and that I would be able to deal with all the hurt they've put me through.

and lot of things have changed in other aspects of my life. I grew up a lot, I've dated a few guys, I've found a job and I'm more outgoing than I was before. I know how to make friends and I'm better at preserving friendships. I call my grandfather (from my mother's side of the family) almost every two weeks and I've cut my hair short and now I look more like an adult and less like a big baby. but i still hate most of my family most of the time and i still hate gathering up with them and I'm still nothing like my mother told me I'd be.

does it ever go away? does this awful resentment towards family members actually gets worse with time? how can I forgive someone for their wrongdoings if they've never apologized in the first place; if they've never stopped doing you wrong, actually? is there forgiveness for an ongoing behavior?

I've been awfully tricked into thinking that the most important things and traits in life come with age. they don't. age comes and age goes and if I don't pour my heart and soul in every single thing I do I never see a significant result.

I'll never be my mother. I'll never take things lightly. I've been rock solid and unforgiving ever since day one. there's a soft side to me as there is to everyone but in my essence I'm a survivor. right now I'm trying, still trying to survive a simple family gathering and the fact that I'm not a natural at anything in life.

i hope someday I won't have to see them every year and my penalty gets reduced to an every two years gathering because I'll be booked and busy and burned out from abusive work hours in a big city. i hope I'll always have money to pay for therapy and try to heal some of the damage the adults in my life caused me as a child. and I hope I won't give up on writing just for the sake of it.

#writerscorner #young adult

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medicinemane · 3 years

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I'm actually friends with someone who was tumblr famous

Really brought them nothing but misery sadly. Like everyone forgot there was a real human behind the url

I mean, this is someone I talk with daily and I'd see people spouting trash that it's like if you actually knew this person you'd know that's not even a little true. They weren't dealing with a person, they were dealing with this made up 2D concept they'd concocted in their own head

Everyone famous, politicans, actors, musicians, athletes; they're all just people. There's good ones, there's bad ones, there's an awful lot of mediocre ones. There's certainly a very warped sense of reality a lot seem to have picked up (cause they're so rich they're out of touch), but at the end of the day they're all just people

Anyway, point here is two things. One, there's no reason to get so obsessed over people you'll never know. Enjoying and being interested in hearing ideas from is one thing, but this constant celebrity culture consumption isn't healthy (kind of doubt anyone reading this needs to learn that, feel like we're probably on the same page, so more just ranting)

Two, I'm still mad about how my friend was treated and just wanted to complain about it. If I thought yelling at people on the internet did anything I would have been yelling an awful lot back then. The misery they were put though basically because someone hit sick of seeing them, it makes me livid

So yeah, in many ways no real moral to this, I just felt like saying I'm mad about various things

#i really am still livid about how my friend was treated #if i hadn't thought it would just attach more trouble and drama their way i would have had a number of choice words for some people #like how the person spearheading the harassment was a childish petty immature brat who probably could have benefited from a hobby #because their harassment campaign seemed to mostly because their own life was so miserable and boring #at least that's how it looked from where i was sitting anytime i read any trash they spewed on the screen #i hope for their sake they grew up or will grow up someday because it seems like it would be miserable being them #as for my friend i won't go into detail for confidentiality's sake but suffice to say it was bad for their mental health and did real harm #the people who dog piled on while pretending there was any purpose behind things harmed another person for no particular reason #and sadly i doubt it would weigh on them even a little because they seemed lacking in empathy sympathy and general human decency #so yes I'm mad about this #I'm still mad at this #it's probably not obvious about me but i hold grudges and i hold them hard #it's rare that i get them and a lot of the people i have negative feelings towards i really don't care that much about #but the ones that actually get me to hold a grudge have pissed me off permanently #so i will probably always be mad about this even if it never comes up #to do such damage so pointlessly is unforgivable #especially that bored petulant who really kicked it all off

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tartagliaxx · 3 years

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hi !! i really love your works and the way u write !!

may i request childe + dandelion ?? tysm in advance !! <3

“ CHILDE + DANDELION ”

━━ ☆ PAIRING: childe/reader

━━ ☆ GENRE: fluff

━━ ☆ SUMMARY: dandelion | faithfulness, overcoming challenges, youthful joy, granted wishes

━━ ☆ WARNINGS: established relationship

back then, very little was made for him.

childe— or perhaps it would be better to say 'ajax'— grew up with clothes too large for him. they were dull-colored and moth-eaten from overuse. his toys were never the latest of the snezhnayan trend, instead, they were antiques, dating back to his father's father and his years. food was never roasted steak or caramelized cakes. on its place were self-caught fishes stewed in tomato, incredibly bland because seasoning was the least of their problems.

he didn't grow up with a lot but he did grow up with midnight hot cocoa runs with his elder sister. his version of a vacation was down by the river a few miles north where his older brothers would push him across the ice before skidding into a stop right before he crashes into a tree. education came in worn-out books read to him by his father and sometimes, it came from the quiet nostalgia of his mother as she knitted yet another sweater for her children— things she wished she had done, things she wished she hadn't done, and things she hoped he will do in the future.

now, he could twist and bend the world however he sees it fit. most of it, at least.

tartaglia jumps from one continent to the other with the finest blades one could find, value no doubt exceeding that of an entire village. he buys all sorts of toys without a glance at their price tag and ships them off to teucer who remains to be blind to having barely anything. he dines in the most expensive kiosks, cuisines he could only dream about at the tip of his fork and they were everything but never bland.

he lived with so many in his grasp and sometimes it's too much because now, all he asks for is more time. forget caviar and fancy fusion dishes, the charred seafood his father grills is far better than those. forget ballgowns and suits, he'd much rather wear that ratty, old sweater he used to hate with all his heart. forget mora and gold and fancy lifestyles because nothing could compare to the cozy, little cabin he grew up in nor could they stand a chance against the people who watched him be who he was now.

all his life he was never selfish. he never pestered his mother for that toy the whole town was crazed for nor did he complain at the tsaritsa's feet when he's shipped off to yet another place he didn't care for. he dealt with it, adjusted, and went on— like a true warrior, he says with an almost bitter smile.

but now, could he be given the luxury to want? to seek and be mad when it's not given? for once, could he be a selfish man who didn't have to worry about someone else's sake?

a minute, an hour, a day, a week, a month, a year longer. he'd take anything as long as he could spend more time with you. chuckling, he lifted his hand as he brushes off a stray strand of your hair that flapped wildly against the heavy liyue wind.

"careful, don't go slipping or dying on me now."

you sent him a weak glare. "do you see that? yes childe, that's the moon. the sun hasn't even risen yet and you're already dragging me somewhere i don't know. forgive me if my half-asleep state is being too sluggish for you, mr. i-have-no-idea-normal-people-actually-sleep."

"now, now," he rose his hands in mock defense. "you don't have to make me sound so condescending. as a matter of fact, we're going ten times slower than what i would have preferred but you're not hearing me complain because i love you and i care about you."

"i swear to god i'm going to kill you someday."

slinging an arm around your shoulders, you could feel his laughter reverberate in his chest. "i'd like to see you try. i bet you'd look adorable."

"leave it to you to make a threat sound like it's some fun, cutesy activity."

"it could be? i mean, imagine laces and knives. in bed—" your stare hardened into something far more malicious. "just kidding!"

"you better. i'll happily castrate you right here and now."

"scary."

you chose to ignore his mocking comment knowing well by now that his true intentions were somewhere in between pissing you off until you could only desire for a fight or pissing you off until you pushed him against a tree and dealt with him. either way, you wouldn't let him have his way with you even if the latter does sound quite appealing.

surprisingly, he didn't push your buttons further. instead, he dropped his arm down to your waist where he grounded you with affectionate little rubs. with that, you went on with your journey to who knows where but if you were being honest, the destination barely mattered as long as you had him as your companion.

"this is—"

"stone gate, yes." he finished for you as he tugged you along to its peak.

"what are we doing here?"

childe hummed in thought— hesitating— before he turns to look at you with a bittersweet smile. "i wanted to take you out on one last date before i leave."

your face softened into one that showed sympathy and understanding. giving his hand a slow squeeze, you asked him to show you where he set up today's activities. while the deep-rooted sadness in his eyes didn't leave him completely, he did seem to brighten up when you switched the topics.

"it's right over there."

you laughed when he began recalling the events that lead to this— how he had to knock on xiangling's door at the dead of the night, how he had passed today's duties to ekaterina, and so forth. there was very little humor in his story but as he spun his arms wildly in between the events, the weight in your heart slowly began to ease.

"—so what do you think?"

"not bad for someone who usually just throws mora around."

"not bad, right? it's not much but i wanted to make today special."

the sudden solemness of the situation— of the reality you lived— sank in too suddenly. so deep in love, you didn't notice how the sun has risen bringing with it a fastly ticking clock that marked childe's departure from liyue. that clock stood waiting, menacing with the claws it had on your neck and you had to remind yourself to stay strong because he didn't need to worry about the tears that were sure to spill when he's already halfway through the ocean.

"wait here for a second."

you blinked, surprised at childe's sudden exit. for someone who was going on and on about not wanting to leave, he sure did leave in a hurry. averting your eyes with a soft smile, they landed on a bunch of jueyeun chilies. you immediately thought of xiangling who went out of her way to make all of this possible when she didn't need to. perhaps you should bring some back.

"ok, i'm back. close your eyes." you furrowed your eyebrows, more than just a little confused. still, you did as he told you without much of a doubt. "hands out."

"i swear to god if you place a frog or a lizard in my hands—"

"don't you have faith in me?"

"not really." instead of being offended, childe cackled out loud and that was enough to make your day.

something fuzzy and light landed on your outstretched hand. it was strange, not something you were used to feeling but it wasn't unwelcome. in fact, there was something vaguely comforting about the feather-like weight on your hand.

"open."

dandelions?

"i don't know if you'd prefer a massive bouquet of roses but i didn't prepare that so," childe rubbed the back of his neck in shame, an emotion you don't often see on the man, "i guess we'd have to make do."

"i like them." you interrupted his words, knowing that the next thing that would slip out of his mouth was going to be an apology.

"really? i guess i'm pretty lucky huh?" in a way he was. luck was the only reason he could think of when he thinks about the odds of meeting someone who loved him as much as you did.

"when—" he swallowed, taking the smallest dandelion in your hands and knotting it to form a makeshift ring, "when you look at dandelions, remember me."

you watched as he slid the ring on your fingers, heart torn and mended at the same time. "i know it wouldn't be easy but... the distance from here to snezhnaya wouldn't deter me. i'll love you and only you. no matter what."

"i know. i know you would and as do i."

bumping your foreheads together, you lifted your hand— the one that held his ring of promise— and allowed it to rest by his cheek. just this once, you hoped it was alright to be selfish and wish that time would pass by slower.

━━ ☆ NOTES: hello!! you’re very sweet! thanks for joining and saying that! i hope this is to your liking! view the rest of the event shorts here! 💐

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sserpente · 3 years

Photo

A/N: Request from anon. Halloween is around the corner now. What are you guys dressing up as?

Words: 1357 Warnings: fluff, angst, orphan!Reader

Halloween was approaching fast. Not only was it your favourite holiday but also your most special day of the year—your birthday. You had sent out invitations weeks ago, spending hours every day planning the party.

Bat decorations, fake spider webs, green, purple and black and orange garlands, rubber rats and spiders—oh and you had outdone yourself with the food. Apple slices shaped like little monsters with peanuts for their teeth and marshmallows for their one eye, a blood-red alcoholic Dracula drink and little pumpkin rice balls as snacks… a gravestone dessert with chocolate cake crumbles…

You wanted it to be perfect, transforming your flat into your personal Halloweentown little by little. Usually, you never celebrated your birthday like this. There were no real parties in foster homes—quite on the contrary—turning a year older meant chances to get adopted got smaller and smaller because young couples did not want teenagers. There was this unspoken rule that once you grew pubic hair, it was over and good-bye. So when you left the orphanage at the age of eighteen, you realised heavy-heartedly that you had lived your entire childhood without knowing what it was like to have loving and caring parents.

Perhaps this was the reason why you had connected with Loki so much. Your job at the local newspaper had hardly paid well but every now and then, it bared interesting surprises. When your boss arranged for you to visit the Avengers base to capture a few photos of the superheroes preparing for missions and training together, you ended up meeting Loki.

Loki who had brought an alien army to New York City, Loki who was a war criminal. You still remembered fondly how he of all people had offered you a cup of tea and you became comfortable enough to ask him about his magic and the reason for his presence on Earth which resulted in a long conversation which then turned into him promising he would visit you in the editorial department someday.

Ever since then, your life had shifted drastically. Working for a newspaper, your friendship with Loki did not remain a secret for long but instead spread like wildfire. Bit by bit, you started losing your bosses’ trust, for no one would want a journalist affiliated with the enemy.

Today marked the day you had officially quit, so on top of all the other reasons to celebrate, you wanted to farewell your colleagues and friends you had made while working for the newspaper as well. You had not told Loki about the party though—not because you did not want him there but rather because you doubted he would enjoy a room full of strangers getting drunk and giving him hostile looks.

The party had started over an hour ago. You would have expected the first guests to arrive by now but your doorbell remained quiet. You decided to make use of the time and double-check if everything was in place and your bedroom was indeed locked. Then, you waited.

And you waited and waited. Two and half hours in, you dug up one of your invitations to see if you had slipped up in terms of the time but no—it did say eight pm. But it took you another two and a half hours to realise fully that you had been stood up.

You didn’t know what hurt more, the fact that no one had bothered to show up to your birthday party or the fact that no one had even bothered to tell you they were not coming after all. Unshed tears swam in your eyes. Sobbing, you buried your face in your hands, smudging your make-up in the process.

Then, suddenly, the doorbell rang. You jumped, hurrying to open and expecting to perhaps finally greet the first guest but it was no one you had invited to your party.

It was Loki. “Happy Birthday.” He winked at you, holding up a flower bouquet and a box of your favourite pralines.

The moment he entered and allowed you to lean in for a hug was the moment you burst out in tears.

“Are you alright? What happened? Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m just… you remembered?” You did not remember telling Loki about your birthday—having grown up in an orphanage, the subject of birthdates did not come up a lot in your life. How could you have assumed that this year, everything would be different? Another sob escaped your lips. Loki gently pushed you an arm-length away from him, his presents still in his hands, making the gesture a little awkward, especially when he pushed the door shut with his foot.

“Tell me what happened.”

You laughed bitterly. “I threw a birthday party and no one bothered to show up.” Loki’s face fell. Unbeknownst to you, he had known about the party, of course. He had spotted one of the invitations in your flat before. He had hoped, however, that by the time he showed up at your place, all the party guests would have gone again.

This was a feeling he only knew all too well. He himself had not had many friends growing up on Asgard. Most children who acted kindly around him only were interested in befriending Thor. Frigga had to promise them they would all receive a real gold coin if they attended his birthday party. Apart from Amora, not a single child had wanted to celebrate with him for his sake and spent the entire day play-fighting with Thor instead.

You and him, you were more alike than he would have liked to admit.

“And you think to know why they did not show up.” He stated dryly. “Do you not? I can see it in your eyes.”

“They… know we are friends.” You admitted sheepishly. “They probably thought you would be there and… they don’t care you are helping the Avengers now, Loki. They still see the criminal who invaded New York City a few years ago.”

Loki gnashed his teeth. “That is no reason for them to turn their back on you like this.” It was his fault, he realised with a start, his affiliation with you. He would have clenched his fists if it wasn’t for the flowers and the chocolate in his hands.

“This is so embarrassing…” You whined, tears still streaming down your face.

“It is not. What is embarrassing is your so-called friends’ behaviour. What is embarrassing is that I had to ask Stark of all people what kinds of presents are acceptable for a mortal woman’s birthday—and that I had to ask my brother for permission to leave the base unattended. I had to promise him in front of the entire Avengers team that I would not be causing any mischief or harm you.” This time your laugh was real.

“The flowers are beautiful, Loki, thank you. You even remembered what kind of chocolate I like!”

Loki convinced you to head into your living room, admiring the many Halloween decorations you had put up. You joined him after you had found a vase for your flowers and then squeaked when he pulled you onto his lap, his face only inches from yours.

“I am truly tempted to pay those ‘friends’ of yours a visit.” He murmured, blue eyes fixed on your lips. He was so close you could feel his warm breath on them. A weak smile spread on your lips.

“I would only love to see the looks on their faces.”

“Hmm… perhaps I will,” he mused, “Thor would never know…” Your heart jumped when he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, your tears finally dry. Instead, you were on cloud nine. There was no need for a party anymore now as long as Loki was with you. None of them knew how tender and sweet the God of Mischief could be. He had just made an unspoken promise to make the rest of your birthday all but wonderful.

“Loki…” You started pensively. “I… I made a lot of food. Someone has to eat it all.”

Loki chuckled. “We better get started then.”

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you considered supporting me on Kofi! It’s either for caffeine or red wine, I’ll take both. ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

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cleanlenins · 3 years

Text

Ectober Day 2: Scream

He Just Screams Uncool

Ectober Day 2: Scream

During Fright Knight, Mr. Lancer gets sent to a fear dimension after being stabbed by Soulshredder. What would have happened if Dash had gotten stabbed? What would his fear dimension look like?

AO3

Warnings: Light body horror

Dash trembled, covering his ears and crushing his eyes closed. He cowered in a corner, unable to muster the courage to move. This wasn't real. This wasn't real. This wasn't real .

Freaky Fenton must have done something. He was so desperate to win the stupid Haunted House competition that he had cheated. Yeah, that must be what he had done. He had gotten help. Maybe he didn't even do any of it himself. Not that Dash had done anything himself either-

He heard a distant laughter and crushed his palms against his ears. He didn’t want to hear it anymore.

Leave it to the freak to come up with something like this.

He whimpered as he heard the laughter get closer, pressing harder into the corner. The brick walls digging into his arm. He thought back and tried to find some explanation for this madness.

Dash had already won. He knew it. He could see on Lancer’s face as he showed off his room. There was no way Fenton could top this. Fenton’s room was a joke, just like everything else about the loser. It was just up to Mr. Lancer to say the final words.

And then...what had happened? Dash can't remember. It was all so hazy, like trying to remember a fading dream. Someone had shown up, dressed in armor and face obscured in darkness. He almost remembered the horrifying feeling of metal sliding through his chest. But he checked and he was whole. There was no wound. No blood. No pain-

One minute Dash had been standing next to Lancer, the next he was suddenly outside the school? How did he get there? And it was daylight? Dash blinked at the sudden light. It was crowded with students milling around, but he immediately spotted Paulina and Kwan. His friends could never be mistaken for the normal geeks and freaks that populated the school. Both of their backs were turned to him. Maybe they would know what had happened.

Dash had walked up to the duo, raising his hand to clap Kwan on the shoulder with a cocky grin. The smirk melted away as his hand went through Kwan's arm. Dash stared at his hand, completely dumbfounded. Frozen in place in his confusion. Was he tripping? He didn’t remember taking anything. Then Paulina and Kwan turned and walked through him. Dash gasped at the foreign feeling, like the ice baths he and the team would take after training. Except the cold was under his skin. Under his muscles. Like his bones were made of snow and mist. And then it was gone.

“Guys!” Dash shouted in surprise, but neither Kwan nor Paulina turned to face him. Neither showed any signs of even seeing him. They continued to walk up the path. Dash ran to cut them off, waving his hands in front of their faces. Neither blinked. Dash tried to block their way but once more they walked right through him. He bit his lip, scanning around the school ground for any other familiar faces.

He rushed over to Valerie and tried to grab her shoulder, intent on spinning the girl around to look at him. But once more his hand went through. Star gestured wildly and her hand went through Dash’s head. He flinched away from the uncomfortable feeling. Dale threw his football through the air, and instead of catching it, Dash watched it pass through his chest before nailing that nerd Mickey in the head. Dash couldn’t even take pleasure in the nerd’s broken glasses.

He wasn’t panicking. No, he would never panic. He was the school star for heaven's sake. The hero of Casper. He wouldn’t be beaten by some freaky trick. He started screaming, yelling for someone to notice him. He tried to grab people. Tried to throw books and binders. Yelled expletives in their faces. Tried to punch random people. He definitely didn’t cry, no, those weren’t tears. He was just sweating. His heart was pounding against his chest from the running, not fear. His scream broke off as he choked down a sob. No, it wasn’t a sob! He leaned heavily against the flag poles, somehow not falling through them. He glanced around the grounds in despair. He was at a loss. He was...losing?

His eyes snapped to a trio not that far from him. He focused on Fenton, who seemed to be engrossed in a conversation with Foley. Dash nearly growled in anger, before marching over to Fenton.

Fenton seemed to shudder as he approached, a cold mist floating from his mouth. Typical freak weirdness. The smaller teen looked up and met Dash’s eye. Instead of cowering in fear, a wide grin split Fenton’s face. Dash flushed in rage.

“What did you do, Fenton?”

“What do you mean?” Fenton asked, grin widening even more.

“Why is everyone acting like they can’t see me? Why can’t I touch anything? If this is something your weirdo parents made-” Dash stuttered to a stop as he watched Fenton’s smile only grow wider, every tooth on display and...were his teeth sharper than usual?

“What do you mean no one can see you, Dash?” Fenton tilted his head, unblinking eyes seemed to be staring directly into his soul. The pupils were blown wide, only hinting at a circle of blue around the black. “I can see you. I have always been able to see you.”

Fenton took a step. Dash swallowed as he took a step away. Fenton’s grin grew even wider. Impossibly wide. Could mouths even reach that wide?

“W-what’s that supposed to mean, you freak?” Dash stuttered as he put distance between him and the nerd. Fenton continued to stroll, a very low chuckle.

“That’s why you don’t like me, Dash. Because I can see you for who you are and who you will be,” Fenton giggled. “A nobody.”

“J-just-Shut up, Fenturd!” Dash tried to hold his ground, balling his hands into fists to hide the tremors.

“You know that someday they are going to see it, too. See you for the nothing you are. Stupid, useless, boring, lame-the list goes on, doesn’t it? You had hoped it would be after high school, but I guess everyone just came to their senses sooner than you thought, Dash .”

Dash lashed out, as he always did when he was afraid. He was expecting the satisfying crunch of his fist against Fenton’s nose. But his fist went right through Fenton’s grinning face. The smaller teen stepped to the side. He reached up and gently grabbed Dash’s wrist. Dash tried to rip it away, but found that Fenton’s hold was stronger than iron. He grunted as he yanked his arm, but Fenton didn’t budge.

“The only thing really good about you is all this strength, isn’t it?” Fenton asked, a cruel excitement in his eyes. “But that won’t last, will it?”

Like the rippling of wind on grain, the skin around Dash’s wrist began to change. Tanned and smooth skin became translucent and liver spotted. Chiseled muscle seemed to deflate and loose skin hung from the bone in a wrinkly mass. The effect flowed up from his wrist to his elbow, as Dash screamed in horror. He once more tried to pull away from Fenton, this time with success as he fell and sprawled on his back. He sobbed and he tried to crawl backwards away, Fenton giggled down at him with hand still aloft. Dash felt tears overflow, he glanced down at his arm which still held it’s withered appearance.

Fenton took a step forward, and Dash’s eyes were back on him.

“Are you crying, Baxter?” Fenton laughed. “Well, that just screams uncool doesn’t it? Don’t worry. You don’t have to cry for long.”

Fenton took another step closer, and Dash was on his feet. He sprinted away, cradling his arm and screaming for help. Anyone. Help him. Please. Someone save him. But while the school had been full of people before, now there was no one. Dash sprinted around the school building, making his way to the brick storage building. He fumbled with the latch, before ripping open the door. Closing it quickly behind him, he shoved himself as far into the room as he could, leaning up against the cold corner of the brick wall. He tried to muffle his sobs, his hands trembling. He listened hard, waiting. Waiting to see if Fenton would find him. Tears flowed freely as he scrunched up his eyes.

So here he was. Trembling in fear of the kid he usually beat to a pulp, with no explanation for his change in fate. He waited, tense as a bowstring, as he heard Fenton calling his name. Taunting him. Laughing. When the voice came close, he held his breath and bit down on his unwithered hand to try and muffle the noise of his chattering teeth. He heard the latch on the door wiggle, creating an eerie squeak into the silence and Dash swallowed a scream. Dash waited with baited breath to see if the door opened. The clack of the rusted metal latch continued, the door remaining closed. Eventually, the noise stopped, the latch thudding against the wooden door. Dash heard Fenton laugh as he passed by. Footsteps inaudible through the thick brick walls. Dash waited, sure that Fenton would come back to unstick the latch. Sure he would come back to continue whatever sick game he was playing. But he didn’t. Finally, Dash felt safe enough to let out a cautious breath. He clamped his eyes shut, trying to calm his racing heart and block out the reality around him.

“Found you,” A voice whispered in his ear. Dash looked up to see Fenton, inches from his face, half of his body phased through the wall. Dash screamed, nowhere to run as Fenton reached one hand towards him.

“Mr. Baxter! Dash! You’re okay! It wasn’t real!” Mr. Lancer backed away from the screaming football star. Mr. Baxter scooted into the wall, eyes wide as he continued to scream and cover his face. Mr. Lancer glanced at Mr. Fenton and Miss Manson, who stared at their classmate in a mixture of concern and guilt. “One of you two should go and find a phone so I can contact his parents. “

“Right,” Miss Manson agreed. She locked eyes with Mr. Fenton, before rushing back through the haunted house.

Mr. Lancer tried to calm Mr. Baxter down. But the boy just continued to scream incomprehensible nonsense, clutching his arm to his body in such a way that Mr. Lancer was growing concerned that he had hurt himself. Mr. Lancer tried to distract him, tried to get him to get him to focus on something other than whatever it was that was scaring him.

But Dash Baxter would not look away from Danny Fenton.

#Ectober Month 2021 #Ectoberhaunt 2021 #Ectoberhaunt trick #Danny Phantom #Cartoons #My writing #horror #Dash Baxter #I had more trouble on this one than day 1 #Horror is just really new to me

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marmarparadoxa · 3 years

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I always read opinions about hanji post time skip and ch 132 they say her decision to sacrifice herself was the decision of a suicidal person because of how inadequate she felt as a commander and unable to live up to erwin’s legacy or things like yams ruined Hanji’s character and was treated by him as unimportant character useless weak or gave up easily and was just there until armin grow up to be commander. As a hanji fan I feel so disappointed in hanji's treatment. What do you think?

Hi! I’m sorry to hear you feel like that as an Hange fan, and I’m aware that you’re not the only one who sees it that way. However, I felt very disoriented at first, when I started reading these opinions, because my experience about Hange’s character in reading the manga was very different from yours. Although I also have my complaints, I actually think that Hange had their time to shine in the last arcs, and moments and scenes and speeches for which I think I came to understand them better, and loved them and all the more felt proud of them, so I can’t say I feel disappointed by their treatment.

For one thing, I don’t think their decision to sacrifice themselves was the decision of a suicidal person. Hange never manifested any sort of suicidal ideation to begin with (as for instance, obviously Reiner did, and somewhat Armin - when he said, in reference to the serum bowl, that it wasn’t him, the one whom they should have revived), and overall, they never gave me the impression of someone willing to throw their life away. It’s true that they didn’t feel worthy of Erwin’s legacy, and blamed themselves for not having been able to show Eren alternative solutions. You can see, in certain moments, how much these thoughts made them doubt their value as commander. However, Hange was not the type of person who would let themselves be led astray by these thoughts, nor shy away from their responsibilities, to cry over themselves - and back to chapter 71, we can see what was their opinion of people who’d do that, in their reaction at Keith Shadis’ story.

Shadis shirked from his role as commander, because he wasn’t “special”, because he didn’t feel equal to his role. In learning that, Hange, for once, was not very sympathetic, but reacted very harshly, and labeled Shadis’ motivations as “childish reasons” and “inferiority complex”. And I think it was not only because they used to admire and have a crush for him once that they felt so outraged at that point, but mostly because of the kind of person Hange had always been. They were an incredibly strong-willed, resilient and self-denying person, who fiercely believed in the ideal they decided to dedicate their life to, and thus felt offended in learning about Shadis’ petty self-concern. And this is how Hange concluded their tirade against the poor Shadis that day: “Isn’t that what it means to cast away your own life and dedicate your heart to the greater good?”. And this leads to a further important point.

Being suicidal, or more or less actively seeking your own death for the sake of your own death, is a different thing from being prepared to altruistically give up on your own life, for the better good. And in view of the above, I’m convinced that Hange’s sacrifice falls under the second sort. In their very last moment, Hange was not thinking about their own misfortunes, but was still looking for the plan to take off, because they wanted to make sure that they could save their friends, and with them, the last chance for salvation for humanity.

So I didn’t like the briskness of the chapter, and I had a hard time suspending my disbelief at Floch having survived Gabi’s shot, and throughout the whole trip of the ship. That was not good-writing, and obviously Isayama wanted to kill off Hange, for whatever reason. But their readiness to take up their responsibilities, and sacrificing their life, was nonetheless consistent with the kind of person Hange has always been. When I think about their sacrifice, their speech to pastor Nick, on top of the walls, in chapter 34 always comes to my mind: “Do you know what exactly we in the Survey Corps have spilled our blood for? To take back the freedom the titans stole from us. For that cause...our lives were a small price to pay.” The Survey Corps required its members to devote their lives, their flesh, their hearts to its cause, and Hange was aware of that.

And when it comes down to it, what exactly could have Hange done to avoid their sacrifice? They couldn’t send any precious titan shifters (to Reiner’s chagrin) and of course they wouldn’t have sent any of the remaining kids (Mikasa, Jean or Connie), to go sacrifice themselves, instead of taking responsibility for their decisions. Levi, at that time, could barely stand up straight. So it had to be them.

I think that Hange was even more courageous, and their sacrifice was all the more admirable (and more painful for me) if you consider that Hange, though willing to take their responsibilities, and committed to their purpose, didn’t actually want to die. Their leaving the kids was so swift, rushed, and they didn’t show how scared they were. But it became manifest when they were asking Levi to let them go, and when he put his fist above their heart, and told them to dedicate their heart, their lips curved downward, and then they laughed it off, and flew away. They downplayed their feelings and rushed, so to be able to leave Levi and the kids - the people they loved - behind. Death, for them, didn’t come as a release from sufference or a crushing burden, but they accepted and went toward it nonetheless.

Then, if we want to address Hange’s character general treatment post time-skip, I think it’d be better to first briefly observe what was Isayama’s general treatment of all Paradis characters, post time-skip. My general impression is that, having come into play all those new different characters from Marley, which asked for narrative space and development, and the plot which had to keep going on, somehow there wasn’t space and time to a proper treatment of the old cast, so that its members, more or less, became rather static and passive.

However, I didn’t perceive Hange’s character as being “unimportant, useless, weak, or giving up easily, who was just there until Armin grew up to be commander”, as you said. In those four years, Hange had a most important role - they were the one who directed their first encounters with Marleyans ships, and talked to their members, and initiated their alliance. Among all Paradis’ political figures, together with Pixis Hange was the one who most took part in negotiations and diplomacy, and worked hard to give Paradis a future. They were shown happily getting excited over Marleyans’ inventions, overcoming Marleyans’ hostilities. And then there’s that beautiful scene, when they restored hope for the kids, proposing the trip to Marley, and then expressing the Survey Corps’ ideal. Later on, when Eren betrayed them in Liberio, when in the dungeon he threatened them, and then when the Jeagerists organized and Floch sequestered them, of course Hange felt let down, disheartened, and powerless, and doubted their value. However, given the circumstances, I wonder how these reactions would spoil Hange’s character, where in fact they are most understandable, and human. It made me sad to see Hange suffer that way (the scene where they were shooting at those SC soldiers and crying, and then seeing how Sannes’ words were still haunting them was painful to see), but it was also interesting to see more of their vulnerable side. And so, it was even more remarkable to see what they were able to do, despite the seemingly hopeless conditions, after Eren initiated the Rumbling - Hange didn’t give up easily at all. It was them who gathered the Alliance. They spoke with Magath, and Pieck, and thus persuaded previous enemies to join forces. Then they went and found Mikasa and Jean, and asked them to help them. And, in the morally wavering atmosphere after the start of the Rumbling, the scene of “I’m not accepting genocide!! You’re not getting me to agree with any reason to support this!!”, and their following speech was so powerful, meaningful, and important.

In conclusion, Hange kept on being Hange till the end, I think - they were still the playful, optimist crazy titan scientist (I mean, they asked Pieck’s Cart titan if she ever brushed her teeth in her titan form XD), and, in the bleakest moment, they didn��t lose hope (“It might not work out today...but maybe someday”), they were still keeping on looking to the future.

And I want to add one more thing, in regards to the “afterlife” scene. I imagine that a lot of people (myself included) felt let down when Isayama stated that it was only a “revolving lantern”. But now I think that it doesn’t really matter whether that's just something Hange’s mind created, or an actual afterlife plane. It was an unexpected act of kindness from Isayama, which completed Hange’s arc in a somehow uplifting note. Hange got reunited with their friends, and saw the plane, flying above them (so they knew their sacrifice was not in vain). And then Erwin told them “You did well”. That’s the message Isayama wanted to give us about Hange, and, if nothing else, I feel grateful for that.

#hange zoe #snk meta #hanji zoe #erwin smith #armin arlert #reiner braun #keith shadis #levi ackerman #pieck finger #jean kirschtien #mikasa ackerman #this got longer than i intended #apparently I needed to get this out of my chest ^^#snk 132 #tw suidice

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sixtyfourk · 2 years

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Would you do 2, 12, 22 for the OC asks? Pick characters as you see fit :)

Thank you so much!! I haven't talked about my boy Johann enough on here so I picked him :)

2: What would break your OC beyond repair? Has it happened?

Johann is older than his brother Kerlie in most worlds, but in the very tragic 1920s world, he’s quite a bit younger than Kerlie. The two of them grew up in an orphanage together, and Johann really looked up to Kerlie, seeing him as an older brother. When Kerlie turned 18, he ran away from the orphanage. Johann couldn’t stand living without him and followed him, but wasn’t able to find him and was taken in by another family. He tries to get in contact with Kerlie for years, but isn’t able to, and when he finally meets him again, Kerlie doesn’t recognize him. Johann is deeply hurt by this, but hopes that someday Kerlie will remember him. But one day, he hears awful news. Kerlie’s body was discovered outside of the city. Kerlie will never remember him again. They will never have the same relationship again. They will never see each other again.

Johann breaks. He runs away from the family that took care of him all these years and becomes a literal tragic clown in the circus DJKHFDD he abandons everything about his whole life because he just can’t handle it anymore. Everything he ever worked for is gone. He’s a broken shell of himself for years, putting on a performance and a fake smile, but never feeling it genuinely. Maybe someday, he’ll find some peace about it all, but he’ll never be the same person he was before.

12: To what extent would your OC go to survive?

Johann doesn’t care a whole lot about his own survival on its own: he takes after his older brother Laarni a little too much in that way. At the same time, Johann knows that his survival is important for the sake of his brothers’ safety. If it was for his brothers’ good, he would do everything he could for them. Johann seems very easygoing and snarky on the surface, and it takes a lot to upset him, but to protect them (and by extension, himself) he would probably even kill.

22: What is your OC the most guilty about?

Johann feels really guilty about all of the sacrifices that his older brother Laarni went through when raising him and Kerlie. The three of them are adopted brothers who were previously childhood friends: in our main universe for them, their parents all died in a horrible accident, and Laarni, the oldest of the three, stepped up to take care of them all, with no adults around to help them. Johann, as the middle brother, helped out where he could, but he was blind to a lot of the things that Laarni suffered through, since Laarni went so far to conceal them. Laarni would skip out on food so that his brothers could eat, and would barely sleep so that somebody was watching over them to keep them safe.

As an adult, Johann understands a lot more about what Laarni went through. Of course, he was just a kid himself, and their situation growing up wasn’t good for any of them. It’s not his fault that Laarni suffered; it’s the fault of the horrible situation they all went through. But still, he feels awful about what Laarni sacrificed for them, and tries really hard to avoid putting any more burdens on him than he has to.

#johann nimchuk #ocs #thanks so much for asking!#thief bros

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emma-nation · 3 years

Text

The Devil In I - Bela x OC (Resident Evil Village AU)

“Step inside, see the Devil in I”

Summary: Aleena Novak is a 19 years old orphan who desired more than living in a village in the middle of nowhere. A talented artist with a big future ahead, she gets the scholarship of her dreams in United States. But everything changes when her twin brother, Auryk, steals an important artifact from Castle Dimitrescu.

In this adventure, Aleena will find way more than she expected.

“You’ll realize I’m not your Devil anymore”

Pairing: Bela Dimitrescu x OC

Genre: Between T and M (Trigger warning for violence, blood, abuse and eventual smut)

Tag List: @nydeiri

Notes: This is my first RES fic, so I'm sorry if I mess it up a bit. English is also not my main language, so a mistake or two may happen. I hope you enjoy it :)

Trigger Warning: Language, abuse, blood and violence.

Eastern Europe - July, 2009

"If he could learn to love another and earn her love in return by the time the last petal fell, then the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time. As the years passed he fell into despair and lost all hope. For who could ever learn to love a beast?"

Mother closed the book, placing it on the bedside table between Auryk's bed and mine. Then, she lowered herself and kissed my forehead like she did every night. Her long, blonde hair tickled my face and left a trace of her sweet lavender fragrance in the air. I giggled.

"Good night, sweetheart," she spoke.

"Good night, momma."

"Cherish your last night as a six years old. Tomorrow you will become a..."

"Princess?!"

"A seven years old girl. The prettiest girl in the village."

"Pffft," Auryk let out a displeased grunt from his bed, covering his head with the pillow to avoid listening another word from the conversation.

"And you too," mother sat by his side on the bed and repeated her nightly ritual of kissing his forehead to wish him a good night too. "You'll become the most handsome and brave warrior in this village. Do you understand?"

"I hope so. Good night, mom."

"Good night, buddy."

Mother left the room, leaving us both in the dark. However, we couldn't sleep. Not because we were thrilled about our incoming birthday party as any regular child, but because we knew our lives were about to change. Seven years old was the age every child from our village was introduced to the truth and started being trained to fight the evil that haunted our lands. Auryk and I spent minutes, or maybe hours, in silence, staring at the ceiling.

"Leena?" He was the first one to speak. "Do you believe a spell can broken? I mean, like a curse?"

"I don't know, Ryk," I answered, feeling my thoughts starting to drift away. "Maybe we're doomed after all. Or... we could learn how to love the beasts."

The birthday parties always happened during the daytime, rules of the village. We could no longer be outside after 6 PM. Mother got help from the other women to prepare the treats and organize the decorations. Auryk was disguised as a pirate and I... I was Belle, from the Beauty and the Beast.

"So, what do you think you will be getting this year?" My best friend Elena asked while we were playing with our dolls. She was about two years older than us.

"I don't know," I shrugged. Being a merchant, my father always returned home with the most unusual gifts: a magical music box, a voodoo doll that had a life on its own or a fragrance that chased away the monsters - and everybody else too. "A new book. I'm hoping for a new book."

It was only by the end of the party Adrian Novak made his entrance. That was the mystery about him. Nobody knew when he would show up, or if he would show up at all. He still had that same annoying smirk on his face. The corner of his mouth holding a cigarette. The months away made his beard grow longer, as well as his dark hair. In the sunlight, the scar above his eye was even more visible.

"Auryk," he shouted, "come here, son. I've got something for ya."

My twin brother, who had been climbing trees with his friends stop frozen in spot for a second. I couldn't tell if he hated or feared that man. Maybe both. He slowly followed father's command, approaching him cautiously.

"Hi, dad."

"Happy birthday, son," father ruffled his dark straight hair with his strong and calloused hand. "It's about time you grow up."

He handed my brother a large package. From our experience, we knew exactly what it was, a shotgun.

"T-Thank you, dad."

"I'll be spending some time at home. Tomorrow we'll start practicing."

Auryk consented. He shot me a quick glance. From our twin bond I could tell my brother was far from happy. When he blew his candles that afternoon, he didn't wish for a weapon. We wished to be a normal child.

"What did you get, Leena?" He asked once we were locked in the safety of our bedroom.

"Pencils and a drawing book. Dad thinks I'm talented."

Not really. Adrian Novak would never allow his daughter to hold a shotgun. That was, according to him, 'a man thing'.

"Good, at least one of us got what they wanted. Happy birthday, sister."

"Happy birthday, brother."

4 Years Later - October, 2013

It wasn't easy to be the weakest of the twins. Although he was born first, Auryk was the tinniest. The one who was always getting sick or getting injured. The one who couldn't hit a single fucking target when he had the alcoholic breath of his father on his neck.

He aimed for a crow, sitting still on a fence. How hard could it be? Even the eldest man from the village could do any better than that.

BANG! He shot again. And missed.

"Again?!" Adrian angered, shoving him hard on the shoulder. "What the hell is your problem, kid?"

"I don't know, okay? This gun... it's heavy!"

"Heavy? And why do you think we've been exercising for all these years, huh?! We do not live in Disneyland, Auryk. We need to fight monsters, abominations. Someday I won't be home and you need to be prepared to protect our people. Do you understand?"

Tears started forming in the corners of the boy's blue eyes. He couldn't cry. Not in front of him. Crying was a sign of weakness and he couldn't be weak. Not right now. Auryk started to think about all the things he could be doing. He thought about the ocean, as he had seen on TV and books. He could feel the warmness of the sun on his skin. The sand between his toes. His mom and sister were also there, of course - they'd carry them with him everywhere. And he would study Math and Physics. There would be no guns, no monsters, no blood, only numbers, only formulas, only theories. He smiled. He no longer felt like crying.

"I'm sorry, dad," kindness was always the answer, his mother said. "But this isn't for me, you know? I don't like it. I... Remember that boarding school my teacher mentioned? I thought maybe I..."

His words were interrupted by a hard slap on his face. Auryk could taste a small amount of blood coming out from his lower lip.

"So that's what you want? To become one of those little fancy fags? Maybe you're not my son after all."

Adrian started walking away, leaving his son alone, sitting on the floor.

"I AM!" Auryk yelled, enraged. "I am your son."

"Then prove it."

"You shouldn't take so hard on him," Savannah poured her husband a cup of tea. "He's just a boy."

"He's eleven years old, for god's sake," the husband punched the table strong enough to make it shake. "He needs to man up a bit. You should stop spoiling him."

As I left my bedroom I found my brother sitting on the stairs. He didn't have to be so close to listen to the conversation between our parents, father's voice was loud enough to echo through every wall of our small and cozy home.

I sat down by his side, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"Maybe you should do it, Leena. You'd do it better, I know."

"I'm not so sure. Remember when I tried to shoot a scarecrow and almost shot that old witch?"

"Come on, you aimed on purpose! I know."

Auryk finally let out a small laugh at the memory.

"You're good at everything, Leena," he spoke fondly. "You're an extrovert, you're everybody's friend, you can cook, you can draw and paint... you're a true artist. I'm a mistake."

"You're not a mistake, Ryk," I pulled my brother closer, resting my cheek against the side of his face. "We're only at the wrong place and you know it."

Going back to our bedroom, we pulled from the drawers the postcards our grandma Louise sent us from San Diego. Mom had been born in California and lived there her entire life, until she met father during one of his trips. God knows what made her fall in love with that man. Adventure? Danger? I expected better from myself when I turned eighteen. Otherwise, I'd never want to fall in love. Love could be my ruin, just like my mom's.

"Leena..." Auryk held the postcard tightly, "do you think... if he died... do you think mom would take us to nana's home?"

"I don't know, Ryk," I didn't want to think of my father's possible death. But I also dreamed of a better life. "Maybe."

"What the hell?" Father's voice in the kitchen made me jump in fear. I knew that tone. I grew up used to that. Something was wrong in the village. We had to hide.

"To the basement, now!" He emerged at the bedroom, holding a rifle. "Lycans were seen surrounding the area."

We barely had any time to react, mom came and dragged us both to the basement. Father left, carrying his arsenal of weapons as usual. There were other hunters in the village but we always knew how badly it could end. Somebody could always get seriously hurt. Or worse.

The basement had been carefully prepared for that kind of situation years before. It had a big bed, two armchairs, a heating source, some stored food and a shelf. Mom sighed and forced a smile.

"So," she walked to the shelf, "what is it going to be today?"

"Frankenstein," Auryk suggested. My brother loved mystery and horror. As if his life hadn't enough of it.

"Romeo and Juliet," I spoke. There was something about forbidden romance that always caught my interest.

"Okay. I... I'm gonna say a prayer and you two can read the books you picked by yourselves. What do you think?"

"Great!"

Mom kneeled down by the bed's side, holding a crucifix. I could join her if I wanted to, but I'd rather watch in silence. I grabbed my book, sitting on one of the armchairs and pretending to pay attention, while I tried to distract myself from the fact my father could be the Lycans' next prey. Or all of us, if they managed to break into our house.

"Leena?" I woke up hours later with my mom shaking me. "Leena?! Where's Auryk? Where's your brother, Leena?"

I had no idea. I had fallen asleep and apparently, so did mom. She checked for the basement's door, it had been locked from outside.

"No..." she tried to force it open. "No! I can't be..."

All Auryk had to do was to successfully kill and take a Lycan's carcass as a trophy to his father, right? That was what that old douchebag wanted him to do, to prove his courage, his manhood. We had his shotgun, a binoculars and a knife, that should be enough, but first, he needed a good plan.

Looking down to his hands, he had the most perfect idea. Without thinking twice, he sliced a cut through his palm, letting some blood pour on the ground. Then, he found a tall tree. He climbed it and observed. The smell of blood his trail left behind should be enough to attract a creature.

"Come on... come on..."

From a distance, Auryk could hear the sound of destruction and death. There was a battle going on somewhere nearby. Once again Lycans should have found a family or a group of hunters.

And then, he could hear it. The heavy footsteps, the screeching sounds, the sniffing. The mutant creature was only a few meters away from the tree. He aimed, but it was still too distant. He needed to move to a closer branch.

It all happened in one second. He was almost there, reaching for the spot he had picked, but his weight was too much for the tree's branch. In a blink of an eye, he was lying on the ground. His vision was blurred. His head hurt intensely, as well as his arm. It was broken for sure. He possibly had a concussion too. He tried to stand up and run but his legs wouldn't follow his commands. The Lycan was coming straight at him.

"AURYK!" His mother screamed behind him. "NO!"

Time seemed to freeze in that fraction of second. How did she manage to escape the basement? How could she have found him?

But without hesitation, Savannah threw herself on top of her son, protecting him from the jaws and claws of the monster. Auryk couldn't see much, but he could smell it. He could feel it. Blood. There was blood everywhere. He couldn't tell who it belonged to, he or his mom's.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

A fast sequence of shots suggested the hunters had found them. The creature stopped moving, stopped howling. It was finally dead.

"M-Mom... it's dead. We... We're safe."

She didn't answer. Instead, he heard another familiar voice.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!" It was from his father. "Savannah! Savannah!"

"D-Dad..." Auryk tried to speak, but the words got lost along the way. "I... I..."

Adrian lifted him by his jacket, holding him inches above the ground.

"YOU KILLED HER! YOU KILLED YOUR MOM, YOUR STUPID BASTARD!"

"I..." tears streamed down the boy's face, his injured brain trying to process what had just happened. "I'm sorry.'

After he was thrown back to the ground, he was hit with a hard kick on his stomach. He turned his head around to notice a small figure hiding behind a tree, watching the whole scene in pure horror.

"L-Leena..." he muttered.

"This is all your fault, Auryk. You're a disgrace to this family."

And then, he passed out. Rumors said he was unconscious for days or maybe weeks. When he woke up, he wished everything had been a nightmare.

Present Days - July, 2021

Nobody mourned Adrian Novak when he died. Not his children. Not his village mates. No human being would ever feel any sympathy for a man who abused and blamed his eleven years old son for his mother's death. It had been two years since Adrian left this world and I couldn't feel any more free.

"Hey," I left another message on my brother's voicemail, "in case you've forgotten it's our birthday today. I'd like to have my twin home, you know? Call me when you get this message."

It was useless, I knew. Auryk would only pick up his phone when he wanted to. Or when he was too drunk. God knew where that guy would be at that time, probably waking up at some girl's bed or getting some rest from... working.

After grabbing myself a cup of coffee, I checked the door's mat. Bills, bills, newspaper and... California Institute Of Arts? I remember having an argument with Auryk about this matter at some point. He wanted me to fill the application and send them my portfolio. I insisted we had no money, not even to pay for the tuition. I won - I always win every argument by the way.

"Your damn son of a..." I placed the envelope on the kitchen's table. I was a coward, I confess. However, I didn't know which pain was worse - to be sure I wasn't good enough or to be sure I was, indeed, but I'd never have money to leave that hellhole. Anyways, I decided to leave it alone. I had more important things to do.

My morning routine: to go to the middle of the woods and do some training. My father used to say fighting wasn't a girl thing, but I was no regular girl. And never in this life I'd allow someone to tell me what to do.

After running, climbing and doing a set of push-ups, it was time for combat training. Travelers from abroad taught me some different set of moves, I'd like to think I created my own fighting style. I was also very good with knifes, daggers or any kinds of short blades, they were useful during a close distance combat. My shooting was a work in progress, once or twice I'd miss the center of my handmade targets.

Then, like everyday, I'd go back home, shower and follow to my shift at the village's pub.

"Hiya, Leena," Gustav greeted me when I arrived. "I heard today is a special day... the day a little girl..."

"NO!" I stopped him. Gustav was my best friend. We had known each other since we were children and somehow, he liked to make my birthday a special - and embarrassing - event.

He placed a handmade fairytale-like book on the table. There were some edited pictures, mixed with some messed up drawings about my birth and childhood. He called it 'The Princess Who Carried The Light'.

"God, you're soooo stupid..." I rolled my eyes and moaned, before wrapping him into a very tight hug. "I love you, you know that?"

"I know. You'd probably marry me, if you weren't into girls."

We laughed together, as Olga, our boss emerged from the kitchen, bringing a cake with nineteen candles.

"Here's to another year," the older woman opened a wrinkled smile, "make a wish, my darling."

I fell pensive for a moment, besides having my twin brother back home, safe and sound, what else could I wish for? California, that scholarship, a new life... that's for sure.

"I wish for... a new life, a new adventure," I pronounced aloud while blowing the candles.

"Careful," a male voice spoke behind me, "words have power, little sister. You may get what you want."

"Ryk!"

I jumped straight to my brother's arms. I could swear that in only a few weeks he had gotten a little bit taller, and stronger too.

"I wouldn't miss my own birthday, right?" He smirked. "So, where's the cake? Please, chocolate... tell me it's chocolate."

"Your silly boy," Olga spread some icing on his nose. "Of course it's chocolate, as you love. And with cherries too."

Auryk responded with a satisfied smile. Olga and her husband, Kristoff, were those responsible for taking care of him after the Lycan attack, years ago. They sort of adopted him like one of their biological children.

"Oh!" The woman exclaimed taking a closer look at Ryk's forearm. He had gotten a tattoo. I hadn't been informed of those news either. Apparently, my brother had more secrets than I could even start to imagine. "This is... new. It seems like my kids are really growing up."

"And only now you noticed that, Olga?" Gustav joked.

Olga shook her head, grinning at herself and returned to the kitchen. The customers were starting to fill the pub. I stared at Ryk again, wondering what other secrets my brother could be keeping.

"So, what does that mean?" I pointed to his newly gotten tattoo, a strange and ancient symbol it seemed.

"Protection from the evil. This is what we need the most in our lives, especially in a place like this. What reminds me -" we turned around, taking a small box from the pocket of his jacket. "Your gift."

I took the black velvet box from his hands, it contained a golden necklace with a magenta gemstone as pendant. My blue eyes drowned themselves in the stone. It had a mysterious glow. Something hypnotizing. Something magical.

"Whoa..." was everything my mouth could pronounce. "And I bought you an Astronomy book."

Auryk stood up from his chair and went behind me, taking the necklace from my hands to wear it around my neck himself.

"This is supposed to protect you from any supernatural and inhumane beings. I won't lose you to them, Aleena. Not like I lost mom."

"Ryk, I... I can't even thank you enough."

"You don't have to. Just... stay alive."

First, I was overflowing with happiness. It either had to do with the fact my brother was home, alcohol, or both. Also, Olga should thank me. Most of the costumers of the day only stopped by the bar because of me. They absolutely loved me and knowing it was my birthday, they had to come and see me. A few of them even gave me some extra tips or a small gift, which was even greater.

"Okay, party girl..." Auryk helped me to get inside of the house as I tripped over the door mat. "Time to go to bed now. Don't you think?"

"Come on, Ryk! Have some spirit! You're home, Olga gave me the day off tomorrow, I earned some money..."

"You told Mrs. Hansen you secretly had a crush on her daughter during Middle School, you danced on top of a table, you're gonna get a hangover..."

"Party pooper!"

I threw myself at the couch. Auryk stood in front of me with arms crossed, looking like a father about to give his child a lecture.

"What?!" I yelled. "It's not like you've never been drunk before. Remember when you stole Adrian's..." I started to laugh, remembering the episode.

"When you were going to tell me about this, Leena?" He showed me the envelope. The Art Institute envelope. The one I had been struggling to open.

"Oh! I forgot. My bad, I didn't open it myself yet. I probably didn't get in anyways."

"You did."

I did?

"It's not like we have money to pay for my tuition. Also, how are we supposed to move to California, Ryk? I work at a pub and you..."

"I've gotten more than enough for that. You know that getting out of this place has always been the plan, since we were children. Leena, I've done some big jobs those last few months. I have the money to grant us a comfortable life in California."

"Smuggling, Ryk!" I raised my voice, saying aloud the information that was supposed to be a secret or not. "You've been stealing to grant us this life."

My brother stared at me in silence. I couldn't tell if he felt offended or embarrassed about my words.

"I'm getting out of here, whatever it takes," he ran a hand through his dark hair. "And you are coming with me. In two weeks, we move to United States for your enrollment."

"But..."

What I was trying to protest against? Leaving the village and starting a new life with my brother was everything I always dreamed.

"Look, I promise you," Auryk placed both of his firm hands on my shoulders, "once we settle down, no more smuggling."

"Okay," I sighed. "We leave in two weeks then."

There was a loud knock on the door. Being drunk as I was, I figured out I should have forgotten my purse at the pub. Or it could be a neighbor with some very stupid emergency.

Auryk opened the door and there was a strange looking man standing there. We wore sunglasses and a hat, behind his back he was carrying a giant hammer. According to the rumors and stories I heard from my parents, that was one of the Lords of The Four Houses, Karl Heisenberg.

"Auryk Novak?" He asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Come with me, kid. You've gotten yourself in big trouble."

#resident evil village #resident evil 8 #bela dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #bela x oc #resident evil fanfiction #the devil in i

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pucksnsticksnhockeyboys · 4 years

Text

you say you hate me

summary: four times you were forced to spend time with Matthew plus one time you chose to.

warnings: mentions of drinking, swearing

word count: 7.2k

note from the writer: is it bad that I’ve already started another Matt fic? also this gif is *chef’s kiss* amazing

ONE

You knew you ran the risk of running into him when you moved from St. Louis to Calgary. But you couldn’t pass up the job opportunity you were given, even if it meant you were looking over your shoulder as if to avoid running into him.

But after three months of living in Calgary you hadn’t seen him, so you were certain you were in the clear. You reasoned that he would’ve popped up sooner, you followed each other on Instagram and have each other added on Snapchat, so you knew that he knew you were in Calgary. You pushed him to the back of your mind, though, not wanting him to take up any more residence in your mind than he already did. And after a while you figured you were safe from his presence and any headaches that seemed to follow him around.

So imagine your surprise when he shows up while you’re in the middle of a date.

Chris is a nice guy. It’s your third date, and the bar he’s taken you to is a little more on the casual side, but the Edmonton vs. Canucks game was on the television above the bar and you knew he was a big hockey guy.

Clearly, you had a type.

“So, I think my boss is going to give me a big project, which would be a huge step in the right direction for the promotion I—” You were gushing about the news you had received earlier in the day, but you were unable to finish your thought as Chris yelled.

“Oh, fuck off, Mcdavid! You should have scored that.”

After realizing that he wasn’t talking about your ability to buy a goal or calling you McDavid, you learned two things about the man sitting across from you. One, he hadn’t been listening to a single word you were saying and you could count on the hockey game being more interesting to him than anything you could have said. You should have known, anyways, on your first date he spent five whole minutes talking about how the Oilers were his favorite team after you mentioned you grew up in St. Louis. And two, he was that kind of hockey fan. The kind that tore down their team’s top players over any little screw-up. The kind that made your skin crawl after having grown up with the sport.

“It was a rookie mistake.” Chris’ attention turned to you since it was a T.V. timeout and you blinked at him for a moment, wondering just how your night took a downturn so quickly. The bar was so low, and he managed to limbo under it.

“McDavid. Rookie mistake?” You blanched, propping your chin on your hand as you waited to see what kind of bullshit excuse he funneled at you. He stuttered over his words, and you were about to interject with a very well laid out explanation about how players were people and able to make mistakes without having their skill questioned. Plus, it was McDavid.

But then a hand landed casually on your shoulder, and your first instinct was to turn and face whoever decided it was a good idea to randomly touch with a scowl. Your frown only deepened when you spotted who it was, completely ignoring the choked noise Chris made.

Of course he had to show up on the one night you were on a date.

“Couldn’t hide from me forever.” Matt drawled easily, removing his hand from you and leaning against the edge of the tall table you were sitting at. You rolled your eyes, not at all surprised at the fact that he decided to start the first actual conversation you’ve had with him in weeks with a tease.

“I’ll try harder next time.” You stated dryly, taking a sip of your nearly empty drink and avoiding the gaze of both men around you. Well, Chris was too busy eyeing Matthew and puffing out his chest as if he was trying to assert his dominance. Please.

You didn’t get the appeal of Matthew. Sure, he was attractive and pretty good at hockey, not that you’d ever admit that to anyone, but he was a pest. He grew up next door to you, which meant the better part of your childhood was spent at the mercy of Matt’s teasing. You adored the rest of his family, you had a four-hundred and thirty-six day Snapchat streak with Taryn, a number seven Senators jersey hanging up in your closest, Chantal’s number was saved as ‘mama tkachuk’ in your phone, and you had once called Keith in a panic when you were sixteen and got a flat tire and your parents weren’t answering.

Matt had laughed at you when you stumbled walking across the stage at graduation.

You were not his biggest fan.

“Hot date?” Matt questioned, not even looking over to Chris who nodded the moment the words entered the air. You winced at the question, because you were technically on a date, but you weren’t exactly feeling it, especially after what had just transpired. But you would marry Chris on the spot if it meant annoying Matt.

“I’ll see you later.” You spoke through gritted teeth, plastering on a forced and obviously fake smile. Matt grinned at you, his mischievous look that you had seen a thousand times growing up that warned you that he was going to do something to get under your skin made warning alarms flash in your mind.

Your suspicions were proven correct when he reached a hand up to ruffle your hair before slipping back into the crowd. You pouted, glaring at his back until you couldn’t see his mop of curls anymore and turned to face Chris again. Your date was looking at you with an annoyed expression, one that was surely mirrored on your face but the only difference was his look was directed at you and yours was at Matthew for showing up out of nowhere.

“Are you okay—?” You barely got the question out before Chris was interrupting you. Again.

“You can’t talk to him if we’re going to see each other.” He stated, as if it was that easy.

It wasn’t as if you wanted to hang out with Matt, not since you hit middle school, but it would be a cold day in hell before some guy told you who you could and could not talk to.

“We’re neighbors, nothing will ever be going on there but our families are good friends. I literally have to talk to him whenever I go home.” You weren’t sure why you were explaining this to him, maybe a part of you wanted to see if he’d bactrack and apologize, even if the relationship was damaged beyond repair. Those hopes were squashed the moment he spoke next.

“Then I’m out.” And he was standing up, barely giving you a second look before he was headed towards the door.

It was pettiness that had you crossing the bar in search of the one person that you couldn’t stand to be around for an extended period of time. You had seen a whole new side of Chris in a matter of five minutes and a small part of you was glad that Matt interrupted and brought it out. Emphasis on small, though.

“You owe me a drink.” You nudged Matt’s shoulder, sliding in next to him at the bar. You didn’t care that you were interrupting his conversation with one of his teammates, you had just been dumped by the guy you’d been somewhat seeing for a few weeks because he couldn’t handle the idea of you knowing a NHL player. “Scared my date away because he didn’t like the fact that I talk to you.”

“I feel like I did you a favor, if he really is that insecure. We don’t even like each other.” He had waved down the bartender with a chuckle, ordering you a beer like the one he had clutched in his hand. It was seconds before the cool glass was set in front of you. Perks of being a hotshot hero in Calgary, you assumed.

“I’ll drink to that.” You clinked your bottle against his, taking a generous sip as Matt watched with an amused grin. He was leaning against the counter, his back now fully turned on his teammates. Clearly, he wasn’t planning on letting you finish your drink in peace.

“Mom told me you got your dream job, so tell me about it.”

“Like you care.” You rolled your eyes with a scoff. You were feeling especially bitter, and you were taking it out on Matt. To be fair, he was taking it all in stride, but you knew he was biding his time until he could make a joke.

“Try me.” Matt wasn’t a bad guy. Annoying, sure. A pain in your ass? Since the day you met. But you knew him better than most—begrudgingly, of course—and you could tell he was genuinely curious. He probably had plans to tease you about it later, you would put money on the fact, but with the way your night had turned out, you couldn’t find it in you to care.

“Fine, but just until I finish this drink and my Uber gets here.”

TWO

mama tkachuk: Hi sweetie! Keith and I are in town for the weekend and were wondering if you wanted to get dinner with us and Matt! Text me when you get a chance!

It was so unfair. How could Chantal be as sweet as she was and have produced a child like Matthew? You were so caught up in how kind her invitation was that you had agreed to meet up with them before it really set in that you would have to sit through a dinner with Matt.

You had arrived at the restaurant a few minutes later than the agreed upon time due to traffic, so everyone else was already at the table by the time you made it. Chantal was the first to jump up and greet you with a hug, Keith following after with a ‘how are you, kid’ and a tight squeeze. You shot Matt a tight-lipped smile, trying to remain civil infront of his parents, and he returned with his typical smug grin, though it was more subdued than usual as a result of sitting next to his mother.

“You always liked to be late.” Matt teased as you sat down. You rolled your eyes at him, annoyed but willing to let the comment slide for the sake of his parents.

“I don’t know why you guys bicker all the time, you used to tell us all the time that you were going to be a family someday. You guys even practiced with Taryn and Brady.” Chantal reminisced, and you smiled uneasily at the memory. It wasn’t necessarily an unpleasant one, some of your best memories took place in the Tkachuk living room. Back when you were kids, you and Matt were attached at the hip. Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum—if Matt was caught sticking his hand in the cookie jar you were right at his side reminding him to grab one for you too. This particular instance stuck out in your mind, though, because your mom teased you about it whenever she got the chance.

It was a rainy Saturday, Keith was out of town for hockey and your dad was at the office, which left the moms sitting in the kitchen chatting about whatever adults talked about. Taryn had just learned how to walk, which meant that she was trying to follow you around to the best of her ability, even if that meant watching from the sidelines as you played mini sticks with her brothers.

But after Matt had scored against you and Brady enough times, you declared that it was time for them to play your game—house. Taryn was your baby, and she happily filled the roll as she toddled behind you. Brady was your other son, and Matt was the dad. You played like that for an hour or so, Matt pretending to come home from road trips while playing in the NHL just like his father, only to help you pretend to cook dinner and put ‘the kids’ to bed.

At six years old, he was a dream pretend-father.

“I can’t help it if Matthew runs his mouth too much.” You chirped, and though you meant it in good fun there was some seriousness. Matt never knew when to quit, his comments more obnoxious than endearing most of the time. Though, he did have his moments, you were willing to admit. You knew he had your back when it came down to it, but he also would be the first one to crash your date and tell the guy you were with some embarrassing story about you from when you were seven.

He did that no less than three separate times when you were teenagers.

“Remember when they pretended to get married at like six? And Matt cried when I told him that he wasn’t actually her husband.” Keith nudged his wife with a grin, his statement earning a groan from Matt. You flushed, keeping quiet as the memory flashed in your head—the theme of the night, apparently.

It was a summer wedding, so to speak. Sometime during the offseason your family and the Tkachuks rented a lake house for a week and you spent the entire time racing from one activity to the next while clutching Matt’s hand. Your aunt had just gotten married, so weddings were on your mind and you decided you wanted a party like she had. Your choices for potential husbands were limited, Brady and Matt the only other boys close to your age. When Brady claimed that you had cooties and ran away, Matt was the only option left and it simply took the bribe of sharing your dessert with him after dinner for him to agree.

You had made paper rings and even forced Matt to fake propose to you, all while both your mothers looked on with camera’s clutched in their hands. You had claimed your unending love for Matt that day, and he had done the same. In an effort to tease you, your mom had said that he had to kiss the bride and you both looked at her like she was crazy—though he did end up pressing a quick and sloppy kiss to the back of your hand to appease her.

And then twenty minutes later he shoved you off the dock because you were too scared to jump in.

Matt was watching you as his mother told the story, chuckling as she added in anecdotes about how she and your mother had almost started planning your real wedding that day and similar comments. It was no secret that she was rooting for you to get together with her son, and even though Keith would try to get his wife to tone down her comments, you saw his smug grin every once on a while.

The rest of dinner and dessert passed by with minimal reminiscing, and soon enough the check was paid. Matt picked up the bill, and though you tried to argue that you could pay for yourself, Matt simply stuck his tongue out at you and Keith said that he would’ve paid for everyone if he had only been able to grab the check faster. You rolled your eyes at Matt’s childishness, but thanked Keith for his kindness despite the fact that he hadn’t even really done anything.

“So where did you park?” Chantal asked as the four of you stepped outside. The cold air made you shiver, and you used one hand to tighten your coat around you while the other gestured over your shoulder in the general direction of where your car was.

“Like three blocks away. It was pretty busy when I got here.” You replied. Chantal nodded, opening her arms for a hug you readily reciprocated.

“I’ll walk you. It’s way too late for you to go by yourself.” Matt spoke up, interrupting your goodbyes with his parents. He handed his keys off to his dad so they could wait in the car while he went with you, and because he simply couldn’t just be nice, he added his next comment. “You’d probably get lost if I don’t go with you.”

“Thanks, Matt.” You said sarcastically, the roll of your eyes coming almost naturally. There wasn’t room for you to argue, because Chantal was nudging you in the opposite direction she was headed to get to Matt’s car. Part of you wondered if she somehow planned this in an another attempt to get you to spend time alone with her son. You didn’t have time to think about it too much, between saying goodbyes and making plans to meet up when you went home for the holidays, you were rushing a bit to get out of the cold.

While you walked, Matt stayed quiet, something you didn’t realize he was capable of. Your hands were shoved deep into your coat pockets to try and stay warm, but you felt his arm brush against yours every once in a while.

“Thanks for coming tonight, mom loved it.” He was softer now, his voice devoid of any of its usual smugness.

“Are you kidding? I love your parents.” You teased, trying to figure out where this quiet side of Matt was coming from. It was the side of him that rarely came out, especially in front of the media and never on the ice, but it was the side that you got along with the best. You stopped at your car, turning to face Matt. “Thanks for walking me.”

“No problem. Uh, text me when you get home, or whatever. So I know you got there safe.” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, a slight redness to his cheeks that caught you off guard. You nodded, unlocking your car and offering him one last smile and goodbye before climbing in.

You couldn’t help but grin to yourself as you drove home. He was trying.

THREE

You had the worst luck.

Firstly, the only flight you could get home for the holidays was a red-eye to try and save some money. Secondly, your parents were making you get a cab from the airport instead of coming to pick you up. It was fine, you were an adult and could handle both those things. You had long come to terms with it by the time you were settling into your seat as everyone boarded.

But third—

“No way am I this lucky.”

The sound of the familiar voice had you tilting your head back with a groan, not even bothering to look at the person who was dropping unceremoniously into the seat beside you. Though his curls were tucked under his hoodie and he was trying his best to remain undetected, his presence was one that you would recognize anywhere.

“I’m just really, really, unlucky.” You told Matt, and though your comment was a jab at him, he wore the same grin he always did.

“That’s mean.” He teased, reaching over to poke your side because of course he hasn't outgrown giving you jumper cables. You glared at him, momentarily pausing your efforts to dig through your bag in search of your headphones just so he knew how annoyed you were. Not that he cared, or that it ever really stopped him.

“Look, Matt, I’ve had a long day, and I was looking forward to just sleeping this whole flight.” You sighed, dragging a hand down your face in frustration.

“I’ll leave you alone, promise.” Matt grinned that stupidly smug grin of his.

Yeah, right. You thought, but kept the comment to yourself. It was better to let Matt think he won than invite him to keep going by replying. He grinned at you, simply miming zipping his lips shut as you rolled your eyes.

He lasted longer than you thought he would—ten minutes.

“I don’t know what you don’t like about me so much, it’s not the hockey thing, because you love Brady.” Matt spoke up, going so far as to pull your headphone out of your ear so you could hear him.

“Brady’s adorable and like a baby brother to me.” You said matter-of-factly, earning a snicker from Matt. “You chipped my tooth when we were twelve and then blamed it on me.”

“I’m sure he’ll be glad to hear that.” He snorted, and for a second you thought he’d leave it at that. He had succeeded in getting under your skin, just like he usually did. “And it was your fault. You weren’t paying attention.”

“You didn’t have to shoot the pucks at me that hard!” You frowned at the memory. You had offered to stand in goal for him while he practiced shooting, and though you were definitely not destined to play in the NHL like him, that didn’t stop him from acting as if he was taking part in the hardest shot competition.

Matt didn’t respond, instead he just shook his head with a grin. Clearly, he was more amused by the memory than you were.

He went back to leaving you alone, though he stole one of your headphones and placed it into his ear to listen. He scrunched his nose up at the song, and you rolled your eyes at the silent jab at your taste in music.

Eventually, you did end up falling asleep. When you woke up to Matthew shaking you gently, you realized that you had fallen asleep on his shoulder and that he was waking you since you had landed and people were starting to exit. You waited for the chirps to come about your subconscious action, knowing he probably had a few comments up his sleeve. Except, he didn’t say anything, only stood up to retrieve both of your carryon bags from the overhead storage.

Matt stuck by your side the entire time you got off the plane and headed to luggage claim, unable to help himself from chirping you at the fact you couldn’t find your suitcase. You poked your tongue out at him, admittedly a little juvenile on your behalf, when you spotted your bag come around the carousel. Before you could grab it, though, he snagged it and stuck his tongue out at you before departing into the airport in search of his parents. Now, you were forced to trail after him.

Your annoyance faded, though, when you heard Chantal call your and Matthew’s names. You smiled at the woman, who hugged her son quickly before turning and pulling you into her arms.

“Guess who I got to sit next to?” Matt chimed, sounding a bit too pleased with himself for your liking. You rolled your eyes, unable to help the tiny bit of amusement you felt at how excited Chantal looked at the idea that you had each other on the flight. You and Matt may both be adults, but to her, you were still toddlers that needed constant supervision and she loved the idea that you were there to watch after each other.

“Oh, that’s lucky!” Chantal cheered and you grit your teeth, forcing a smile on your face at the way Matt was grinning smugly at you. Okay, you figured it could have been worse, you could have been seated next to a creep, but you weren’t about to admit that to Matt.

“So lucky.” You muttered sarcastically. Thankfully, Matthew wasn’t given a chance to comment further on your response, as his dad spoke up before he could.

“Is your dad here? I got a new set of clubs I want to brag about.” Keith questioned and you shook your head with a genuine smile. Living next to a retired NHLer gave your dad plenty of opportunities to bring out his competitive side, and golf was definitely one of their favorite pastimes.

“No, he and mom couldn’t come to get me because they both had work.” You explained and Keith rolled his eyes in good fun. You always wondered how both families got along so well when you couldn’t stand Matt.

“Do you want a ride home then?” Chantal offered sweetly.

“That’d be great, thank you.” You were glad you wouldn’t have to worry about getting an Uber, and you didn’t feel as if you were crashing the Tkachuks’ time with their oldest son since as soon as you started to head to the car, Chantal fell in step with you.

“Oh, Matt, you’re being such a gentleman, carrying her suitcase for her.” Chantal gushed after having noticed that Matt had an extra bag and you didn’t have one. She shot you a look and you just knew this was only fueling her belief that you were destined to end up with Matt. She would probably mention it to your mother, and then you really never would hear the end of it.

“Didn’t know you had it in you.” Keith chirped, earning an eye roll from Matt and laughter from you and Chantal. It was all in good nature, the teasing comments a sign of love amongst the hockey family.

And really, you had no choice but to agree with Keith.

FOUR

“I need you to run next door and give this to Chantal.” Your mom told you, holding out a tray of holiday cookies. You sighed, reluctantly getting up from your spot on the living room couch. You weren’t doing anything, but the aspect of having to walk all the way next door was not totally appealing.

But you did as she said and stuffed on some shoes before heading next door and letting yourself in. Taryn was the first to greet you, taking the tray of cookies and leading you towards the kitchen. As soon as the platter was set down, you both helped yourself to a cookie.

“How’s Calgary? Is Matt showing up randomly to bug you?” She was teasing, but she was right. You laughed, nodding as you broke off a piece of your cookie to eat.

“He showed up while I was on a date, completely by chance, and ruined it.” You chuckled at the memory and at the way Taryn laughed loudly at that. It wasn’t entirely true, Chris was doing a pretty good job of ruining the date on his own, but Matt’s appearance was the final nail in the coffin.

“That’s because he's practically in love with you.” She spoke between giggles. You rolled your eyes, having heard the comment countless times before. It had followed you and Matt around since you were kids, and by the time you were thirteen it morphed from platonic love to your moms explaining what soulmates were to you guys. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t considered the idea of Matt having a thing for you, but you had long since given up on that idea.

You didn’t have time to comment on it, though, because speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

“What’re you guys talking about?” Matt marched into the room, a smug grin on his face. While he spoke, he reached across to where you were standing and broke off a piece of the cookie you were still eating. With a pout, you watched him pop your cookie into his mouth all the while eye contact with you and wearing a self-satisfied grin.

“Oh, just how you’re in love with each other.” Taryn said casually, her sentence punctuated by Matt choking on the cookie. Clearly, he was caught off guard.

“You deserved that, and no, we were not.” You told Matt as he tried to catch his breath. You couldn’t help the grin you were wearing, and for a brief second you acknowledged that he looked adorable all flustered. Matt shot a glare at his sister, who was laughing hysterically at him, and launched forward to dig his fingers into her sides.

You watched carefully as he tickled his sister mercilessly, preparing to make a break for the living room if he turned his attention to you. You were smiling, widely and genuinely, as you watched Matt mess around with his sister.

This was the Matt that you grew up best friends with.

As you were distracted, Matt let his sister go and she caught her breath while cursing him out and you let out a loud laugh at some of the creative things she said. She certainly was from a hockey family.

But then Matt turned his attention to you, a wicked grin on his face and a playful look in his eyes. Your own eyes went wide, and as soon as he took half a step towards you, you spun on your heel and dashed out of the kitchen.

You heard him chasing after you, but you didn’t risk looking back knowing that if you even wanted a chance to outrun him you would need to stay focused. And as you took a particularly sharp turn into the other room, you heard him crash into the wall, clearly not as agile as he thought he was.

“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Tkachuk! I brought cookies from Mom!” You greeted with a laugh as you sprinted past Keith and Chantal in the hallway. You barely had time to register their looks of amusement before you felt Matt’s fingers brush your back, signaling that he was close to grabbing you.

“Don’t hurt her, we like her more than you!” Keith called after you, teasing Matt and catching him off guard enough that he stumbled, and you were able to put some distance between you and him. You were laughing maniacally, the sound mixing with Matt’s chuckles and Taryn encouraging you to run faster.

Eventually, you made it to the living room, and you spotted Brady’s head poking up behind the back of the couch as he watched some rerun hockey game. You know it’s a longshot that Matt will give up and that you need to bite the bullet and let him catch you, but your stubbornness is what makes you throw yourself over the back of the couch, your head landing in the lap of a very confused and surprised Brady.

“Protect me.” You order, grabbing the younger Tkachuk brother’s bicep as Matt leaned over the back of the couch, his curls wild and grin wicked. For a second, there was a softness in his eyes that made your heart skip a beat, but then he was back to being smug.

“Brady can’t stop me.” Matt teased, leaning against the back of the couch. Brady didn’t comment, though he rolled his eyes at his brother. It was an argument that had been going on for a decade or so—which brother was stronger? And though they wrestled from time to time, Brady being victorious more often than he used to be, you knew they would never actually fight. You had been there when Keith made them shake heads and promise not to drop the gloves the first time they played each other.

“He’s taller.” You argued, and Matt chuckled as he made his way around the couch. You watched as he lifted your legs, dropping into the spot on the couch they once occupied before resting your limbs across his lap.

“Doesn’t matter.” He replied, giving your shin a squeeze as he spoke. You rolled your eyes, getting comfortable in your spot laying across the Tkachuk brothers and turning to watch the Blues vs. Stars game Brady had put on.

It felt nice to laugh with Matt again. It was as if things were back to normal, and you tried to ignore the funny fluttering feeling in your stomach as his thumbs brushed back and forth along your legs. You hated it, because it was Matt, and you had long since declared that you couldn’t stand him. And yet, there you were, melting under his touch.

“Oh, come on, you’re not going to attack her?” Taryn complained as she dropped into the free chair on the other side of the room. You stuck your tongue out at her, smiling at the sound of Matt’s chuckles. You were going to make a comment about how she was supposed to be on your side in response, but Brady was faster, and his words—for whatever reason—made any reply die on your tongue.

“It’s because he’s in love with her.”

AND ONE MORE

You hated the fact that you weren’t able to sleep. But even more so, you hated the fact that you knew exactly why you couldn’t get your mind to turn off. You couldn’t stop thinking about how sweet Matt had been earlier in the day, and though you knew he always had a soft spot for his sister, for some reason this time it was hitting you differently. Plus Taryn and Brady’s ‘he’s in love with you’s were bouncing around your head.

Finally, after what felt like the hundredth time you had tossed around under the covers, you sat up and snagged your phone off of the nightstand. You sat up, unlocking your phone and opening messages and before you could really think about stopping yourself you typed out a text and sent it.

Only after the message was sent and you couldn’t do anything about it, did you reread what you said and check the time. You couldn’t help but cringe at the one in the morning ‘hey, are you up?’ text that seemingly glared back at you. But then the three dots appeared that signaled that he was typing, and you quickly slid out of the conversation so he wouldn’t think you were waiting for his text. You were, and though he responded within a minute, you didn’t want to give his ego that extra boost.

matthew: usually I’m the one that sends that text

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, having expected him to say something along those lines. You had practically handed that joke to him. Before you could type out a reply telling him to forget about it, your phone buzzed again with another text.

matthew: front door is unlocked, meet in the basement for a movie?

He was giving you a choice. You could go to bed and pretend this never happened and continue to tell everyone around you that the only thing you felt for Matt was annoyance. But you didn’t. You knew that you might regret it, but you slipped out of bed and tugged on a pair of leggings and a hoodie over your sleepshirt. Shoving on a pair of shoes, you tip-toed outside and to the house next door. It felt a little ridiculous, you were an adult, sneaking around to visit a boy like a teenager. But, you were quiet, and made sure you didn’t make any noise as you slipped down the stairs.

“Why am I sneaking around here like we’re fourteen again?” You teased as soon as you saw Matt already on the couch as he flipped through movie options. For a reason unbeknownst to you, your heart skipped a beat in your chest and your breathing stuttered as you cataloged just how attractive he looked in something as casual as a hoodie and sweats, how suddenly you wanted to run your fingers through his curls that definitely needed a hair treatment.

“I don’t want my family to know you’re here because then I’d have to share.” He teased, snapping you out of your thoughts and opening his arms to silently ask you to cuddle him. You hesitated for a moment, because that was not something you usually did except for maybe when you were three, but decided to throw caution to the wind and curled yourself into his side, your head resting on his shoulder. Besides, you didn’t usually text him at one in the morning either, so precedent was already out the window.

As soon as you settled into him, he draped the blanket that had been folded over the back of the couch over both of your legs. You blushed at the thoughtful action, but tried to hide the flush of your cheeks by staring straight ahead at the television.

“What are we watching?” You found your voice after a moment. When Matt didn’t respond right away, you turned to face him to find him already watching, a small smile on his face and a gentle look in his eyes. For the second time that night, you felt your breath catch in your throat, and it was only the surprised look on your face that had him snapping out of it.

“Oh, uh, you can pick.” He handed the remote to you, and you raised a brow at his odd behavior. You reached a hand up, pressing the back of your hand to his forehead as if to check his temperature with a confused look on your face.

“Are you feeling okay? You must be sick, if you’re letting someone else choose the movie.” You teased, grinning when Matt laughed, swatting your hand away and tugging you closer all in the same movement.

“I’ve been thinking—” He started, but after having grown up with hockey players, you were quick to think up a chirp.

“Are you sure you’re okay then?” You teased, enjoying the warm feeling you got when you heard his laugh. He had your back pressed to his front, so you were facing the television and couldn’t see whatever the look on his face was.

“Would you just let me talk for a minute?” He chuckled and you felt the vibrations in his chest from where you were cuddled against him. And though he was teasing you, there was a softness to his tone that had you nodding, still facing forward. “I kinda sucked when we were teenagers.” He confessed, and you couldn’t help but laugh at him. Though, holding true to your word, you stayed quiet and let him talk. “I was a preteen boy that didn’t know how to act around you and ended up making an idiot of myself.” You knew there probably was a deeper meaning to his words, but you weren’t ready to dive into that and he kept going. “And then we were fifteen and you were in love or whatever with Tommy Banner and I was jealous. And then you broke up but I had to go away for hockey and I don’t regret that, but I do regret not making things better with you before I left.”

His confession hung in the air for a moment as you processed his words. He threw a lot of information at you at once, and you cringed momentarily at the memory of your first ‘serious’ relationship.

See, the thing was, as much as you talked up your annoyance at Matthew, he had always been your person. You fake married the guy for a reason, even if you didn’t really know the implications of your actions way back then. You knew what marriage looked like from your parents and Matt’s, and you wanted that for yourself. You wanted that with Matt. He was your first real crush, and those never really go away. Or at least, yours didn’t.

But once you were teenagers, you stopped pining after your neighbor, a seemingly unattainable goal, and started hanging out with other people. You and Matt started to drift, and then eventually his teasing comments always seemed to be directed towards whatever guy you were seeing, thus making you grow contempt for him.

But now, he was showing his softer side, and those feelings from when you were younger resurfaced as he confessed that he felt the same. You couldn’t deny that you felt something when his hand brushed against you or when he grinned at you—no matter how self-satisfied he looked.

Suddenly you became aware that you had been silent for a moment too long, and you sat up straighter and turned to face Matt. He was studying you, and for the first time in as long as you could remember—except maybe that one time in eighth grade when he asked you to go to the school dance with him because he wanted to make his mom happy—he looked unsure of himself. It was an emotion that didn’t sit right on his face, and as often as you complained about his teasing, you much preferred his shit-eating grin.

“It’s your turn to talk now.” He joked, trying to lighten the mood but only succeeding partly since the breathy chuckle he gave at the end told you he was nervous.

Before you could help yourself, you had cupped his face with both your hands and pulled him forward to connect your lips to his. It took him a second to relax under your touch, but as soon as he realized what was happening, he grabbed your elbow to hold you in place.

When you felt his tongue swipe at your lips you knew you had to pull away before you got too caught up in him, which you knew you would, and you separated. His grin was wide, a little smug like usual, but mostly he was looking adoringly at you.

“I thought you hated me?” He teased, because it’s Matt and of course he would. You rolled your eyes, willing to admit that you had set him up with that one.

“Don’t push your luck, Tkachuk.” You pecked his lips once more, wondering why you had waited so long to do so. If he had been telling the truth, and you knew he was, then he had been crushing on you as long as you had been on him.

“Yes ma’am.” He joked, mock saluting while leaning towards you to chase after your lips for another kiss. You complied, but then pressed a hand on his chest to lean back enough to give him a serious look.

“And if this is going to work, you have to stop being such a pest all the time. Tone it down a bit.” He nodded, grin widening at the mention of your relationship moving past the night. You smiled at him, leaning up to give him one more kiss before settling back into his side. “And I still get to pick the movie.”

Matt chuckled, but didn’t argue. Instead, he settled for pressing a kiss to the top of your head. He let this arm fall from around your shoulders to your waist, and you knew without looking at him that he was wearing a satisfied grin.

“Who’s going to tell our moms that they were right about us?” He spoke up after a moment, and you chuckled. You were as stubborn as Matt was, and neither of you were too excited to admit to anyone that you had been wrong about the fact that you’d end up with each other. You were even certain that Brady, Keith, and Taryn had a running bet about when you and Matt would get together.

As it turns out, neither of you would have to, because you fell asleep together on the couch and Chantal was the first to find you cuddled into her son's chest.

Just like she knew you always would.

#Matthew Tkachuk #Matthew tkachuk imagine #Matthew tkachuk imagines #Matthew tkachuk x reader #hockey imagine #NHL imagine #calgary flames #calgary flames imagine

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thewitchofbooks · 4 years

Note

Konnichiwa~ How about...family headcanons for ikepri suitors???? You can chose whoever you want~ thank you! 🤝🤝

Hello there~You didn't ask for someone specific, but I didn't want to come to conclusions, so I wrote for everyone, haha. I hope you like it! Also, thank you for the request!

Game: Ikemen Prince

Type: Headcanons

Characters : All the characters

Warnings : Kind of spoilery, I hope it is okay, lol,my English,the characters might be ooc.

~Chevalier Michel

🔹Chevalier becomes a bit more gentle when you two start your own family.

🔹Sometimes, you catch him smiling at your children and playing with their chubby cheeks. They always giggle and hug him.

🔹He tries to tell them how much he loves them, more with his actions and not so much with words. But they know he absolutely loves them.

🔹"I love you too." You heard him once say. You peeked inside the library and saw your handsome husband kneeling in front of the youngest, who was crying. The moment your kid heard that, he/she was grinning as he/she threw himself/herself at Chevalier.

🔹Then Cheva walked out (after a lot of awkward but comfortable cuddles on a small chair.

"Chevalier?" You said his name.

"What?" You smiled and asked.

"What did you say before?" Chevalier frowned.

"Nothing that concerns you, dummy." You laughed as he walked away.

🔹Once, you went to wake Chevalier in your shared bedroom, only to see a large lump and a lot of smaller ones, covered with the fluffy blankets.

🔹Now you have to wake them all up, but you gave up a few hours later and slept with them.

🔹Chevalier is very clever and very strong so, sometimes, he teaches his children.

🔹Every night, he reads them to sleep.

~Clavis Lelouch

🔹You were in for it when you agreed to start a family with Clavis.

🔹If your children didn't look like him, they surely took his character.

🔹Clavis will be coming back after work and instead of being greeted with deep bows from the maids, he gets greeted with buckets full of sparkly confetti and glitter.

🔹He is very proud of them but he doesn't want you to have a lot of headaches.

🔹Clavis always makes time to play with his children. He is being sweet and he helps them however he can.

🔹He teaches them to not be too open with suspicious people and if they get in trouble, he shows them how to get out of it.

🔹He let's them keep pets. And if you're allergic to furr, it's okay! None of these pets have furr at all! They can be from small, little snakes to big birds and fishes.

🔹He is trying his best.

🔹Your children love him and they show it all the time.

🔹Clavis is getting attacked with love, which he wasn't used to. He was completely shocked. In the end, he got used to it and he adores it.

🔹There will be days where you'll wake up with sketches on your face and your husband laughing with your children.

🔹They are very adorable when they're sleeping together, Clavis arm wrapped protectively around them (and you, of course).

~Leon Dompteur

🔹Leon is a very loving man. You and the family you both made are his oxygen. You're the most important reason to keep loving and enjoying life at the fullest.

🔹There are days where Leon has finished with training his army, so he takes you and your children for rides with his horse.

🔹You ride in the city and go straight to the food section.

🔹He spoils his children very much, you have to stop him. Do they like sweets? He'll walk through hell to buy cakes, chocolates and everything else. (or ask Yves to bake fresh cakes, lolol). Do they not like sweets? What are those? He never heard of them. (He still eats them.)

🔹Leon always tries to find new activities, just to make sure his children are having fun in the palace, or outside.

🔹Everytime they do something troublesome, like breaking glasses and plates with their father, they try to play innocent.

🔹If they have nightmares, Leon will help them through them.

🔹He always tells them that they don't have to 'stop seeing nightmares' to be brave. Braveness is when they search for someone they trust, because opening up is harder than keeping it inside.

"But dad, when I'm sad and I don't tell anyone... am I weak?" Leon wiped his kid's tears away.

"No. You are strong. But if it is something too hard to keep to yourself, you can share it with anyone you trust."

~Yves Kloss

🔹Yves is a big tsundere and he is shy. So, when you asked for a family, he blushed and tried to deny it. It wasn't working.

🔹His eyes light up everytime he looks at his children. They're the most adorable children in the world. And his world is made with you and them. You are all the matters.

🔹After his royal duties, he bakes cakes, the children are decorating and you have to watch the chaos.

🔹Before having a family of his own, he found it bothersome and annoying to have things all over the place, but he got used to it.

🔹He is sneaking kittens in the palace for them to feed and pet. Where did those stray kittens you show on the street when you were shopping? Yves doesn't have any idea what are you talking about, but you now have to sleep in your shared bed with foolur freshly bathed kittens.

"Are you sure you don't know them? They look comfortable around you." You said, your brow raised. The kittens were sleeping on him. He blushed and glared at you.

"Hmph, I don't know them! No, lay down Snowflake, we aren't fighting with your mom." He stroked the white furr and the small animal fell asleep again.

🔹He gives to the children gorgeous clothes and he brushed their hair, putting it in the best hairstyles.

🔹At night, he praises them for being kind.

~Luke Randolph

🔹Luke grew up in a bad environment, so he makes sure that his children won't ever have to grow up like that. He could give his life in a blink of the eye to do that.

🔹He doesn't spoil his children too much, because he wants them to be down to earth. For him, his role as a prince is not important, but his family is.

🔹The children are tripping on his long legs while they're playing outside and he sleeps.

🔹Luke is a Disney Prince. That means all the animals love him. He gently cradles small fragile butterflies, or cute little birds to show them.

🔹Luke is taking them for walks in the forest. As the time goes on, more and more animals are attached to their gentleness.

🔹If anyone dares mess with his children, they are in for a big surprise. Luke will take them down and fight them until he is sure that they won't bother them again. He won't kill someone though, only hurt them enough for his family's safety.

~Sariel Noir

🔹Sariel is a very busy man and you know that. So when he asked you if you wanted a family, you were super exited.

🔹By the time your children are born, their bedrooms and everything inside is already ready to use.

🔹Sariel seems pretty strict, but he has a soft spot for your family.

🔹He helps them study all their lessons. If they don't understand something, he'll go out of his way to search it up and give them all the information he gathered.

🔹After babysitting the Princes, he takes a few books filled with fairytales and reads to them in his soothing voice.

🔹Sariel loves his kids dearly and he protects them from harm, even if it means being in the shadows.

🔹The children love to hug him and cling on him, while he is giving lectures to the Princes. (translation = scolding Clavis.)

🔹Sariel was lonely before, so he won't let anyone hurt his family. He'll let his people "clean up the dirt".

🔹Sariel kind of spoils his children, and you, because he is weak for your eyes and pouts.

~Licht Klein

🔹Licht seems distant from afar, but his family gets to see his true colours.

🔹Whenever his children are playing or doing something else (that isn't harmful), he smiles softly, his red eyes fill with love and adoration.

🔹He is scared that someday, they'll have the same bad luck his brother and he had.

🔹That's why he always keeps an eye on them.

🔹Licht was never troubled if he died, until one of his children told him he/she loved him so much, that he/she will make him the proudest dad in the world.

🔹Licht's eyes are wide open and he thinks about his choices again. He'll have to live in order to help them grow up.

🔹He is very supportive with their choices, unless it's something bad for them.

🔹At nights, he sings to put them to sleep, his smooth voice calming the down completely.

🔹You can find the m all sleeping together on a chair.

🔹He won't admit it, but he loves sweet food and his children are no better.

~Nokto Klein

🔹Nokto became a whole new person when you had your children.

🔹He still stayed playful for them.

🔹Nokto is happy when they are happy, he is sad when they're sad...

🔹He despises it when they hurt themselves, physically or not.

🔹He is also scared like Licht. He doesn't want then away from each other. He wants for them to be happy.

🔹Before they were born, he was scared that he wouldn't turn out to be a good father. He was scared of rejection.

🔹He lived with the same fear, until his children run up to him and hugged his legs.

"Dad! Thank you for taking us with you! We love you so much!" They said happily.

🔹Nokto.exe has stopped working.

"I love you too." He quickly hugs them to his chest, trying to keep the tears in.

🔹He is teasing them (in a good way) till there's no tomorrow. (with uncle Clavis).

🔹The children, with your help are making presents for him. He gets so happy!

🔹His past self still haunts him, but he doesn't let himself fall. He is strong.

🔹Nokto doesn't take risky jobs anymore. He takes better care of himself for the sake of his family.

🔹When stormy nights fall, his strong arms are ready to close you and the kids to his heart. It's his promise of never letting go, even in the scariest times.

~Rio Ortiz

🔹Rion is as exited as a puppy!

🔹Right after they are born, they are in his arms, cuddled up to him.

🔹Rio travels with them in other places (for personal reasons). He shows them all around and does anything they ask.

🔹Are they hungry? A whole buffet is made for them.

🔹They have his heart and mind. Sometimes, he is scared they'll think he is annoying, but they always tell him how much they love him.

🔹He takes time off his work and plays with them in the garden or in their Rooms.

🔹He always hear their problems. If he can help it, he'll tskr care of them.

🔹Rio won't let others hurt his children. If someone tries and he is in front of the scene, his hand might slip and he the other guys might get hurt.

🔹At night, he cuddle with them and they all wait for you to read them to sleep.

~Jin Grandet

🔹Jin was feeling bashful. He really wanted a family with the most beautiful person in the world (you).

🔹Like almost everyone else, his character changed a bit. He spends more time with his family.

🔹His children like to climb on his back and go fit walks. His back hurts, but are they happy? They it's worth it. End of the conversation.

🔹There are days where he is too tired so he takes food and drinks (not alcohol) and sets them on the king sized bed with you and the kids.

🔹He is manipulating Yves to cook (lol), but Yves does it for his nephew(s) /niece(s).

🔹If the children are terrified from the nightmares or other scary things outside of the windows, they'll run to him, crushing him on your bed.

🔹When morning comes, they are all over the bed, sleeping soundly.

THE END~

AN: I'm writing from my phone now, but I'll fix it when I'll get my laptop!

NadiaSilver~

Also, fun fact: When I first started the game, I fell asleep while reading/listening the prologue, because Sariel and Chevalier were speaking! I love their voices and I want them to put me to sleep every night, lololol.

#Ikemen prince #ikemen prince x reader #fanfiction #chevalier Michel #Clavis Lelouch #Sariel noir #Leon dompteur #Rio Ortiz #Yves kloss #Nokto Klein #licht Klein #Jin grandet #Luke Randolph #ikepri

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vampiricsheep · 3 years

Text

mwah hello gamers it’s time to share my trans characters too

for the sake of brevity im only doing 2 but rest assured. most of them are because I seem to have the monopoly on it/its

anywaysssss *drumroll*

Banni

You know them, you love them, an alarming number of you pity them; Banni is my soulbeast from before soulbeast was released. Their pod was rattled from the boughs of the Pale Tree and fell far to split open early during the catastrophe of Mordremoth’s assault on the World Summit hosted in the grove all those years ago.

Their abrupt emergence had them released before they were really finished maturing; the consequences of which were a runty stature (4′0″ and scrawny) and a very intense connection to the dream. Confused, hurt, and intensely plugged in to the chaos and fear in the grove, they fled without thought as far from that panic hotspot as they could. Even after they got out of range of the worst of it, they kept traveling the beaten paths before them, unknowingly heading towards Divinity’s Reach.

They came across an abandoned warg pup when crossing out of Caledon and into Kessex, and while they couldn’t feel the tug of the Dream when interacting with it, they could still sense that it was in need; the pup, on his part, warmed up quite quickly to the strange creature that didn’t smell of meat. As Moss grew, so did their bond, and the two became inseparable.

I’ll spare you all the part of Banni’s story that took place in Divinity’s Reach, because it’s not pleasant. And afterwards - leading, and then defecting from, the pact - has been told enough times that I’ll skip that too. So, here’s some rapid fire fun facts about them:

1. They’re a vegetarian! They don’t eat meat or eggs either, and they don’t wear leather, just cloth or thickly grown leaves.

2. Their name was the result of mishearing someone say they looked like a bunny, and it just kinda stuck

3. They’re incredibly nearsighted, but don’t have and don’t want glasses. It’s remarkable that they’re a dead shot with a shortbow - but then, they have big ears to pick up on sounds and feel shifts in the wind, and big feet that can feel the vibrations of larger figures within a certain range.

4. You wouldn’t believe from their size and silhouette that they’re strong, but they are! You build a lot of muscle handling large animals and firing simple bows.

5. Before Jormag’s corruption touched them, they could connect with and soothe any animal; however, the ice sets most on edge now, and only Moss, who was there from the start, stays.

6. Chuka and Champawat was a gift from Rrenne, and one they hold onto dearly as a memory of past lives. They looked after one of the tiger cubs too, but the cub - now all grown up - left when they got too familiar with Jormag. Maybe he’ll come back someday.

________________

Fillan

Fillan’s had a rough way of it, but they’re doing all right, all things considered. Their original warwand was supposed to be a combat patrol group, but due to Fillan’s unwillingness to deliver killing blows in a skirmish they were reassigned to lumbering duty (thus the Tree- prefix). Hoping for a shot to redeem themselves, they joined the Pact during the preparations for the assault on Maguuma.

Unfortunately, things didn’t go as planned. When their airship was knocked out of the sky, the passengers tumbled down near a Saurian den, and it was a struggle to evacuate the survivors to higher ground before they were sniffed out. Fillan stayed behind to hold the animals off before rejoining the group, but in the process got their tail so heavily mangled by a vinetooth that wandered into the scuffle that it later had to be amputated only 5 vertebrae from the base.

It took a lot of time to adjust to this injury; the phantom pains and the lack of a counterbalance for their top-heavy build had them decommissioned from combat for a long time. For them, this felt like just another strike against them, another item on the growing of things that made them a failure.

Eventually, though, they tentatively rejoined the pact with the hope of slowly returning to their former status. That came to a bizarre and unexpected halt when the pact commander was AWOL (again?) and there was a desperate need for a fill-in come the assault on Kralkatorrik. They stepped up without thinking, and regretted the decision immediately, as it seemed things were only going wrong and never right.

However, yet another bizarre strike of luck would change their course when Sheep stumbled in from a tear in the mists (thanks, kralk) and stepped up without hesitation as co-commander, never really registering how different this was from the Mist War.

Now the two are taking on Ryland and Jormag with very different levels of confidence, but I have faith in them both.

Fun facts about Fillan:

1. their time as a lumberer led to them becoming really good at carving wood sculptures. They only use their claws for this!

2. They used to be pretty scrawny for a charr, but they’ve filled out nicely since their time in Maguuma! They also paid a pretty penny to have their originally lackluster horns done up into impressive spirals that they’re very careful to keep clean, healthy, and buffed.

3. Do not, under any circumstances, make the mistake of sharing sleeping space with them. They will fall asleep on top of you and crush you slowly.

#guild wars 2 #gw2 #my art #my characters #banni #fillan #this post has been delayed for four hours because my beastly housemate decided it was fine to just. fuck over the router for that long while #*while playing with circuits

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fenristheorem · 3 years

Note

Hi! can i ask you lance with a very motherly s/o? thank you

You're my first ask! Thank you so much @marytheredqueen!

I was originally planning on posting headcanons in a few days regarding Lance and how growing up as an orphan effected him and his relationships in the long-term, so I'll add in headcanons about how growing up without his mother specifically effected him as well 😊

~Headcanons under the cut because these are long as always~

Growing up without a mother:

Oh boy

This is major ouch factor

Almost too much to explain

I said ‘almost’, not ‘it is’

And bear with me, really, because this is SO LONG

Lance and Valkyon were born in a volcano; hatched from dragon eggs and then lived in a nearby village until the time they decided to leave (based on what Lance said in Origins episode 26). There’s very little detail about the specific events, but it’s known that Lance was able to charm a lot of people at a very young age with his strength and self-confidence. It’s also known that he learned about and practiced his dragon powers beginning at a very young age while Valk never participated. It’s unknown if they told the villagers where they were from, how they were found and if they could even talk when they were taken in, but it seems that the villagers never knew about their heritage

Lance was raised by this village, everyone took part in teaching and caring for him and his brother. They knew everyone, played with all the kids, learned lessons from everyone. It was well known that they were orphans, but nobody thought ‘well, they’re not my kids so I won’t worry about them’. Lance and Valk literally had a village to raise them. They learned a lot of general things because of this, from people working all different types of jobs, so therefore Lance is well-versed (roughly because it’s a distant memory, but it’s still there) in a lot of general aspects of life. He’s pretty self-sufficient.

However, he had a village to raise him, and while everyone took care of him, nobody was his mother figure.

At first Lance wasn’t entirely sure why other kids had a mother and why he didn’t. Were him and his brother abandoned? He found it very endearing, but overall strange, that one specific male and female took care of certain kids when the whole village could raise them all together, like with him and his brother. Over time, he learned social constructs better and began to understand more that his case was a special one.

Lance realized then that he and his brother could have had the same things the other kids had. He could have had an actual home instead of floating between houses, he could have had an actual adult to cook meals for him each night, who would learn his specific tastes over time and treat him as a major priority. He began to learn that he could have had a mature figure to rely on when he felt sad, scared, overwhelmed or lost. Everything that he was providing for Valk, he could have had as well, with someone who had more knowledge about life and their heritage. In a way, Lance felt a bit lost. He had to think of everything when he was growing up, because while he did have the villagers to teach him lots of basics, he never had one specific adult that he could really connect to and ask all his really important questions to.

Lance began to realize what he’d been missing. He watched the interactions between child and mother more, and saw how safe and happy the kids looked, and then realized that he would never feel the safe, warm embrace of a mother who would love him unconditionally and without question.

And then he realized that his relationship with the villagers, while nice, could never truly fulfill his biological need to have a mother

Suddenly he had a painful hole in his chest every day

But he kept moving on, because he had been fine so far without

He was sad and disappointed by the fact that he would never experience having a mother, but he realized that he at least had the villagers to give him the basic skills in life. It wasn’t the same, but it could have been worse.

So he grew more, watched out for Valk and worked hard for every scrap of reward he gained in life. He came from humble beginnings.

But one day he felt a bit different, and by the end of the week he realized he had specific abilities that none of the other villagers seemed to have.

He decided to practice with these abilities, learn how they work, as he must have gained them from his heritage and, therefore, they’re the only part of his parents that he’ll possibly ever know. He kept it a secret, realizing that his powers could be used in many ways, hoping to someday surprise the villagers and defend them in their darkest hours; to show them that something good became of him because they helped him.

And then he learned about what his heritage is

Talking to a village elder, he realized that his powers aligned perfectly with the legendary dragons, so he inquired about what happened to them. Realizing their noble downfall, he learned the first thing about his mother and his people that would stay with him forever. He now aspired to make them proud, even if they weren’t with him.

Lance took to harsh training after that. Staying up late into the night, practicing all that he’s learned about basic life skills, but also alchemy, spells, rituals, and his abilities. He never told anyone his heritage, and he urged Valk to keep it a secret, too; you never know what dangers could lurk around two young, inexperienced dragons if the world knew about their heritage. However, Lance still practiced heavily, and the first time he managed a successful transformation into his dragon form, while messy and very tiring, he felt as thought some part of him was right. He finally felt closer to his family. But the effects of not having a mother would always stick with him

Time passed. Lance and Valkyon found the Guard of El, and Lance found a very comfortable position as Chief of the Obsidian Guard. He was one of the leader’s right-hand-men, nearly indestructible, the greatest warrior in the guard and the protector of the good and innocent. He was proud of himself, Valk was proud for him, he had everything, could have any woman, everyone loved him. It was the village but better, because he could uphold and defend what his family, his people, his mother had sacrificed themselves for.

And then reality hit him hard

He discovered a horrible truth; him and his brother weren’t the last surviving dragons, and the guard was hunting them down

Now beemoov never specifies anything of how Lance found out, why there were surviving dragons when allegedly all of them sacrificed to create Eldarya, etc. but I have a headcanon of my own on how he found out (and frankly his whole past in general). It deviates a bit from canon but at least it’s a nearly full backstory (I’ll write about it if anyone requests it)

So when Lance found out this truth he never felt more grateful that he decided to keep his heritage a secret. And he pressed Valk to keep it a secret even more, in fear that his brother may not take him seriously.

This discovery turned Lance around. Suddenly he was feeling sick to his stomach. He felt blind. Were his people angry at him for defending the people who live within the realm they created? Possibly. After all, they all fought each other. He felt lonely again; and he didn’t have his mother to guide or hold him in this time of fear.

Lance began to realize that he was looking through rose colored glasses. He began to realize that few people acknowledged the dragons’ sacrifice anymore, and instead the point of the guard was to shove their nose in others’ problems, problems that hurt each other after the dragons sacrificed to keep them safe, and the guard seemed to use violence at times as a solution to these already-violent issues.

Ok, I’ve been deviating from the original idea of growing up without a mother, but I promise this is important.

Lance felt disrespected at this realization; for his people, for his parents. How dare they destroy each other when the dragons sacrificed themselves to avoid that?

How dare he help them in that by acting for the guard?

Suddenly his mother’s sacrifice seemed worthless

Suddenly he grew up without a mother for nothing

Suddenly he was no longer noble, like his people, because he was helping to hurt the people the dragons died for

His whole life - screwed up from the beginning and left lonely and scared with so much responsibility - was for absolutely nothing.

He couldn’t stay there anymore, and he couldn’t look at himself anymore

He faked his death, and decided that the crystal had to be dealt with, and so the long, lonely road driven by hurt, loneliness and a desire for revenge began, because certainly the fairies of Eldarya no longer deserved the precious gift of life from the dragons. They did nothing but hurt each other, so why did they deserve it now?

And he wasn’t afraid to die in this quest if it guaranteed his success, because after helping the fairies in their destruction, he didn’t deserve the gift of life from the dragons, his people, his mother, either.

And then it got worse

Instead of succeeding, he took away the last of his family that he had

Suddenly he realized how much the gift of life is worth

Suddenly the hole in his heart, opened first long ago when he realized he would never have a mother, re-opened from the ice that froze it over for his sake

He realizes now, that just because he felt he had a valid point, he ended up worse than the fairies of Eldarya. None of them killed their own family in their own ambitions, none of them sought to destroy Eldarya. They fought to protect their families and people, like him, but they didn’t kill their own family

He resigns, numb from shock that he could ever do such a thing on impulse, and allows himself to be taken prisoner

He asks only one thing - he wants to help bury his brother. Maybe it will provide closure and begin the path to some sort of change from what just happened

No? Well... it’s not like he deserves that honor anyways

The take-away from this whole spiel is that Lance grew up with a tragic past and it all snowballed into a lashing out of anger and disappointment upon realizing one fact, and this could have been very different if he had a mother. He would have had a closer relationship with others, he would have known how to nurture others better, how to possibly work through his emotions better rather than jumping into different situations immediately because he feels a certain way. He missed out on many vital life lessons that he should have learned, but didn’t. And while a village to take care of a child is nearly always beneficial, the child still needs it’s parents. A village is not a substitute for parents, it’s an extra teacher.

Due to this, Lance will always be different from others. He had to be self-sufficient, he had to take care of his brother, he had to be the rock, he had to be curious. It was the only way he could truly assure his and his brother’s survival, because they needed to be prepared in case the villagers decided to make them leave. Why? Who knows, but they didn’t have their parents, so clearly they could always lose everything they have, even when what they have is so little

Overall, I believe Lance is very smart, professional and strives to be better everyday, especially in A New Era, but he’ll never truly grasp the understanding of having close personal relationships. He can hang out with others, have a bit of a laugh, but he’ll never really rely on anyone, he’ll always have a back-up plan, a second way out. In a way, he’s always planning for the possibility that everything could fall apart and be taken from him, even things that he never knew he had or should have, so he’ll always be distanced from everyone. He can play the part of ‘perfect Chief of Obsidian and greatest warrior’, but he will always have a hard time understanding how to maintain a close relationship, because the only person he was ever actually close with was Valkyon, and he’s gone now

Perhaps if he had his mother as a guide, a teacher, a brick house in the storm of life, he would have perceived things differently and things never would have ended up like this

Lance with a very motherly partner:

i proMISE THIS WON’T BE AS LONG AS THE FIRST HEADCANON

Firstly I want to give a quick overview of what I perceive to be a ‘very motherly’ S/O - Being motherly suggests that someone acts upon maternal instincts, and maternal instincts differ from person to person. However, seeing as this ask requests a very motherly S/O, I’m taking a lot of the major aspects about maternal instincts, and what is typically seen in a mother and a motherly S/O, and writing them all within one person. So while there are many motherly partners and people, many of them are motherly in specific ways and are a bit less so in other ways, but again; very motherly S/O = putting as many major points as possible into one person. I originally wanted to write specific traits under their own bullets, but they just merge so much with each other to the point that it’s easier to just describe the general relationship. Hopefully readers who love Lance find a bit of themselves within some of the traits that I provide 😊

Lance didn’t originally intend to get this attached. He enjoyed her company, found it endearing that she worried about him despite his past actions, and found it even more endearing and amusing that she worried about him getting hurt on missions (you know, he’s known as the best warrior in the guard for a reason). However, something about how she treated him struck a chord in him. The villagers he grew up with were never this worried about him... they always just let him do his thing without much bothering. But her... she brought back to surface a deep chasm of mixed emotions that he thought he had forgotten. He realized in time that, while he likes when others depend on him and look up to him, it’s also quite nice for him to have a bit of a break. He begins to notice that he spends so much time trying to provide for others that he forgets to take care of himself sometimes. Suddenly it felt nice to have someone look out for him. He spent so long alone, without his brother and with no one to watch his back, that he realized having a close companion is something that he craves.

And this scares him

He’ll withdraw a bit, try to press the fact that she doesn’t need to worry about him. He’ll be fine, he’ll survive, he’s been through worse, but she won’t have any of it. He’s so used to allowing himself to live only the basics in life that when she begins to tug him into trying to enjoy and appreciate his life a bit more, it startles him a bit. How does he do that? Does he deserve it? He doesn’t really think he does, or can. So he gets a bit irritated every now and again, his personality bristles a bit as he tries to stress that she shouldn’t worry about him. He doesn’t mean to be prickly towards her, but it’s just so hard for him to accept that she wants to offer something the he lived just fine without.

He softens in time, begins to wonder why she wants to offer care to him. He comes to her one night and questions her; her motives, her thoughts, her feelings

She explains that it’s just who she is - she worries - about everyone. She’s a caretaker, she wants to help provide, to help heal, and he doesn’t do a very good job at hiding the fact that he’s in pain...

He softens upon realizing that she’s like this with everyone - it makes sense now - and is then disappointed at the fact that she treats him the same as she treats everyone

Just like the villagers...

It strikes a painful chord in him again, but he’s more comfortable at least understanding her reasoning now... but he notices subtle differences in time...

She seems to check in on him more-often than she does with the others. She tells him to be careful on missions and stresses that she doesn’t want him to get hurt. She worries about every little thing to the point where he needn't bother worrying because she has it covered. When he does get a small wound, or in the rare case he falls ill - but it’s not enough to send him to the Infirmary - she’ll move herself into his room to take care of him. She’ll try to be more included in his life and offer new subjects that she knows more on because she loves to teach him about things and she knows he’s genuinely interested in learning new things

Lance realizes that he truly enjoys all of this - yes even her endless worrying and rants about how she told him to be careful

And when she tries to scold him in a fit of anger because she doesn’t approve of something?

Fucking adorable

He begins to realize that she seems to spend more time with him than with others, seems to worry about him more than she does the others, cares about him more than she does the others

So he asks her another night why she’s so adamant on this - why she feels the need to press all of this onto him instead of giving it to someone who will - almost for sure - be more responsive to this. After all, Lance doesn’t know how to react to this; why does she insist on doing all of this for him when he’ll be fine anyways?

She admits that she enjoys his company, that providing moments of happiness during the day makes her happy as well, and that she admired his sturdiness in the whirlwind of life, but knows it can be tiring, and she enjoys being his safe place when he needs a break

“Well what if I don’t want to be fixed or protected or supported?”

“Then why do you keep letting me care for you like this?”

That stops him

And then he realized; he can find it irritating, annoying, and even overbearing at times, but he really enjoys having someone to care for him in a way that he should have had but never had

“I know you grew up without parents, and without someone to really take care of you, so I understand if my actions seem very strange to you, but this is what it’s like to have someone watch out for you. I worry because I care for you...”

But the look in her eyes, the way she speaks in a soft - affectionate - tone, and how she leans slightly towards him, almost looking ready to take a step towards him but hesitating, all tells him that while she may be a very motherly person, her feelings for him run deeper than just friendship.

‘I worry because I care for you...’ and the more she cares the more she worries

The instant this all dawns on him, he finds one of his hands tangled in her hair, the other wrapped tightly around her small waist to leave as little distance between them as possible, and his lips on hers in a harsh, desperate kiss that reflects all the things he wished he had but never could

Nobody ever offered to care for him like this, nobody ever opened their arms and gave him the opportunity to collapse into them in fatigue, so why should he push this away?

It’s then he realizes that he told himself to control his impulses better. Who’s to say she was alright with moving this quickly?

But she doesn’t push him away - she pulls him closer and lets him take her down onto the bed, and although she allows him to take the lead, they both know that he’s the one basking in her presence

He begins to soften more in time. He begins to realize that instead of being irritated, it’s better to listen to, accept, and diffuse her worries and concerns for him by reminding her that he’s incredibly capable of taking care of himself because he has the knowledge and experience to do so - he’ll do his best to come home safe. And when he’s hurt or ill, he lets her help ease his suffering. She’s forgiving with him, but still needs to scold him and rant every now and again because she needs him to know that she really cares for him. He lets her into his life more, finds places to take her that will spark new conversations and listens intently

And over time, he notices he begins to pick up a few things from her. He tells her to be careful, expresses his worries to her, panics a bit upon finding out she’s in the Infirmary and then steels himself to prepare for the worst as he heads there to do what he can for her (although, unlike her, he doesn’t come bolting through the Infirmary door like a wild Black Dog before asking so many questions that one would wonder if he’s interrogating her). And it comes to the point where one of the two doesn’t need to move into the other’s room for a few nights to care for them; they live together now.

He does this all because he knows better now that that’s what you do when you care for someone

However, as much as he’s gotten used to the fact that his S/O can act very motherly about him - and has come to appreciate that he has someone who cares for him that much - he still hurts occasionally at the fact that he never had a mother. He never had the first caretaker that he should have had

His partner recognizes this once in a while, when it seems like it’s really bothering him again

“Are you ok?” - silence - “You can talk to me, I’ll always be here to listen...” - silence - “You don’t need to talk to me now if you don’t want, I understand, just know that I’ll listen if you need to talk it out.”

His piercing blue gaze meets her kind eyes, a soft glint of a mournful smile on her face. She knows he has moments like these; where he thinks about everything he lost and everything he never had and needs to take a while to mourn it all again. But instead of looking away again, as he used to do...

“I wish I knew her... She seemed so taken by her emotions at times, like me, but somehow she still managed to make the right decisions through it all... I just wish I knew her, had her as a mother...”

Silence

“I know no one could ever take her place, or teach you the full extent of what she could have taught you, but she’s still your mother. She’ll love you no matter what, she’ll encourage you no matter what. She may not be able to tell you, you may not have been raised by your mother, but you’ll always be her son and she will always be your mother.”

She hugs him, offers to make him a cup of hot tea and cuddle on their shared bed, and he doesn’t resist. He misses his mother, wishes he could know what she could have taught him, but as he settles on the bed and watches as his partner shuffles around, he realizes that his S/O is right. He has a mother, who does care for him, who does forgive him (hopefully, he can’t be sure), he just can’t see or talk with her

His S/O returns to his side, hands him the cup and lays against him, her shoulder resting on the headboard behind him as she wraps her arms around him and settles her head at his shoulder. He relaxes against her as she strokes his back, and it occurs to him that while he didn’t know his mother, she must have acted similar to this - caring for him and loving him unconditionally

It occurs to him that his motherly S/O could ease the pain and grief that he carried with him from the beginning, and it’s her natural personality that does so

I don’t think that second headcanon was much shorter than the first one, but hey, this was written with Lance in mind and there’s not really a quick and easy way to explain Lance and his emotions lol.

Have a request? Ask them here!

But first, please read the rules list for asks!

#eldarya #Eldarya ANE #eldarya lance #Eldarya Lance ane #eldarya lance headcanons #fenristheorem writing #askfenris

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cultrem · 3 years

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Reiner X Reader

First post kinda nervous (ಥ﹏ಥ)

I did a few edits and made the reader gender neutral ? So reader goes by they/them pronouns. Just background info.

Slight mentions of smut, angst

(I personally don’t really like this one, I rushed to write this and didn’t really take much time to immerse into greater details. Sorry!)

Today was grey. Clouds filled the pretty sky, and made everything seem dark. I had recently been informed that Reiner had returned. However I had no intention of seeing him. My heart ached and told me I should see him at least once. But my brain continued to insist to me that he wasn’t worth my tears. I’d spent years hoping that someday I would properly be able to sit next to him. But those years were the same reason I spent countless nights crying. See I met Reiner when we were kids. I was training to become a soldier, that’s where we met. His eyes were often full with sadness but I could see that when he looked at me, adoration and admiration filled his heart.

As I was training I got badly injured. And I was no longer able to continue. However Reiner stuck by my side. And oh how I cried and begged him to not leave me when he revealed he would be leaving for a couple years. My heart shattered. He chose malice and war over peace and love. And I don’t blame him however. It is far too late for me to be with him, He doesn’t have many years left and once he leaves this earth, I don’t know what I’ll do with myself. I moved out a couple months ago from my parents home. Into a small small home. And here I was, thinking over every happy memory of me and Reiner. I’m sure he must have become more handsome over the years, that won’t do my attachment any good either. No guy could compare to Reiner. I got up from my table and slowly dragged myself towards my bed. I lied there on my back just starting at the ceiling. Eventually fatigue caught up to me and my vision slowly started blurring. Darkness engulfed me as I fell asleep...

-2 hours later-

I heard knocks on my door. Which is strange because it’s dark outside. I sat up slowly. My heart beating In my ears. The knocks almost sounded desperate, and I was way too paranoid to just open the door. “Y/n? Y/n are you there? It’s Reiner” my breath hitched and I could feel my heart dropping to the pit of my stomach. I slowly got up and walked through until I got to the door. I hesitated a bit before opening my door a little bit. “Can I help you?” I said looking down to avoid seeing him. “Can we talk?” I sighed “who told you I was here” I asked. “I passed by your parents house and they informed me you no longer lived with them. And then they showed me where you lived” shit “okay.” I said as I completely opened my door and finally looked up. Oh was he so handsome. I stepped aside as he slowly stepped in. He took off his shoes and afterwards I guided him to my table. I guess nothing works out in favor for me. I asked if he wanted anything to drink and he shook his head. After that the room went quiet. And I slowly say at the other side of the table. Looking down at my hands for a couple seconds before he spoke “how...how have you been?” I looked up “I’ve been fine and you?”

“I’ve been good as well”

“Are you allowed to be out this late?”

“No”

“Oh..”

“Have you been dating?”

“No...have you?”

I could feel my face slowly heat up soon after I asked that question

“No, the women where I was were not up to my standards. They weren’t you”

“Oh..okay”

“Yeah...how has your foot been?”

“Better. I’ve gotten used to limping haha..” The air was awkward. And I wasn’t prepared for any of this.

“Reiner be straight forward. Why are you really here” I saw as his eyes widened and his cheeks flushed.

“I was truly just hoping to see and talk to you. You were on my mind all the time and I couldn’t forget you”

“Reiner you left...why are you making yourself seem like the one who was left instead? I understand you’ve been through many things. But this isn’t fair. I saw you a handful of times and I was never allowed to go near you. Why are you here now, when I’m trying my best to get over you”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Believe me, I know it isn’t fair. However, you were the first person I was able to grow comfortable around, I know it’s stupid But I just wanted to know, would you give me another chance. You know I don’t have long. But I want to spend my remaining time with you. I truly missed you, and if you tell me to leave I will do so, it might hurt my heart buti will be fine as long as I know you still love me” he said as his eyes became glossy under the light.

My chest felt heavy. “Yes. I still love you. But what should I do once you’re gone...”

I said as my own tears filled my eyes. I saw him get up and get closer to me. He cupped my face in his hands “I will always be with you no matter what”

After that night, almost every day Reiner would come by. Sometimes he would pass by at night.

His hands would roam my body. He would pound into me relentlessly sending us both over the edge multiple times.

When he would leave marks all over my chest. When he would kiss me passionately. When he would make love to me under the pale moonlight. I would grow to attach myself a little more to him.

When he would whisper lovely compliments into my ear. When he would kiss my stomach which I grew to be to insecure about. When he would use his tongue to bring me pleasure. I grew to love him a little more.

His groans would fill the room. Tears would escape my eyes as he stretched me. His fingers bruised into my hips. His hands over mine as he kissed my neck. He would paint my walls white until I couldn’t take it anymore.

After a night full of activities I would wake up with sore legs. And bruises decorating my body.

I knew that my happiness would be short lived. However I didn’t expect it to end so soon.

As we all gathered the events of the night were all confusing and happened very fast. As they explained things about paradis. As they explained about the mysterious Eren Jaeger. As the titan emerged, it was all a blur. How did I end up here. With a huge piece of god knows what over my legs, I could no longer feel them, breathing was becoming a harder task than usual, The world slowly slipped away. Darkness engulfing my senses.

“Reiner...”

Third person POV:

When Reiner heard the news of his Lovers passing, he was devastated. His heart ached each time the thought of them crossed his mind. He wasn’t able to sleep as much anymore. Guilt rooted deep within his heart. Was this his fault? He would every so often return to Y/n’s place where he would look at all the things they had kept from him. Gifts and what not, things he would give them as a gift, he would remember how excited they would be to get them, He would sink down and cry, restless nights. His heart was heavy, his conscience was painful and each time his only peace was when he imagined them hugging him as he broke down. He swore to keep fighting, no longer for the sake of humanity, but for the sake of Y/N’s soul, heart and mind. And too for the sake of his poor heart ache. He would not give up.

#reiner x you #aot x reader #imagine #aot angst #reiner braun #eldians #snk spoilers #snk x reader #season 4 #aot imagines

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unchartedwcters · 3 years

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{zión moreno, 21, trans woman, she/her/hers} || yazmín navarro montes is a mutant with the ability of hydrokinesis (water manipulation). they’ve been in new york for eight and a half years where they spend most of their time as student attending xavier’s/unwilling omega. when i think of them, i think of words and pictures carved into desks, a pool of water’s wobbly reflection, necklace chains tangled in hair, and fast footsteps following the sound of a schoolbell.

UNCLASSIFIED

SECRET

yazmín navarro montes was the apple of her parents’ eye. despite being the middle child of three children, she didn’t linger in the background or have to fight for attention. her mother and father always had plenty of time and love for her, no matter what. they let her express herself however she wanted. because of that, she would, soon enough, realize she was trans. her parents accepted her wholeheartedly, as did the rest of her family, embracing and supporting her. they even moved churches the moment the one they attended attempted to disapprove. their new and lifelong one would be loving and kind, and yazmín would see it as her second home for a long time.

unlike most kids, yaz didn’t bemoan going to church, praying, or all the time spent there that other children would say is ‘wasted’. she herself felt close to god, as if he smiled on her and her family. the cross her grandparents had given her on her fifth birthday almost never left her neck. her sister teased her for how much of a “kiss-ass” for god she could be, but it didn’t shake how yaz felt. when she was within the walls of the church, it was as if a wave of energy would fill her bones. it was magical.

schooling proved to be more of a challenge, as she found herself easily bored. that was until she got a taste for science, chemistry specifically. she dove head first in, eager to read, learn, and watch whatever she could get her hands on. there were more than a few times they had to air out the house when one of yaz’s experiments went awry. most of those incidents could be explained away easily, but there were one or two her parents always wondered about. it was as if yazmín would have access to chemicals or tools that she’d have no way to get. they’d soon find others who shared in their concerns.

much like any tween about to become a teen, yaz would have spouts of moodiness. she filed in behind her sister in one of those moods, irritated by everything and anything, even the surge of energy she got entering the church. as they sat down, the priest came down the aisle to bless them all with holy water. it was a routine he liked to do every first sunday of the month. yazmín rolled her eyes as he passed their row, unhappy her outfit would get stained. that was all it took. the water never touched her, standing still as her eyes met the ceiling, before sprinkling to the floor in front of her feet. she didn’t notice at all, nor did her family.

but the priest did.

he didn’t want to believe it. right before his eyes, the water meant to bless a devoted child of god had repelled itself from her. he even tried to bless her again, yet the same thing happened.

to yazmín, nothing had happened. it worried the priest even more. at first, he did nothing with this information, unsure of what to do. as time passed, more odd instances happened around her. she took her brother to the park, and the park’s sprinklers rose but no water came out. once they left, water exploded from each opening. her mother would notice she’d come home bone dry despite a spring shower outside. every once in awhile the faucets in the house would only run warm right away despite the winter biting at people’s heels outside.

it’s six months what the priest witnessed when he came to her parents. he explained his concerns, and they were distraught. mutants were becoming a more well known entity in the last decade, but many churches had found themselves distrusting. they thought, instead of a scientific explanation, the manifestation of powers was evidence of demons or the devil itself. people who showed signs of these abilities had to be saved for the sake of themselves and others.

when yazmín came home from school that day, she was met by all three of them and a priest she didn’t know. her sister was away at college and her brother had been sent to stay with their grandparents. it was an unsettling silence that would last for two years.

that evening yazmín went through her first exorcism. they didn’t explain why or what she had down. it scared her, despite how little they did. the way her parents looked at her, how the priest flinched under gaze, she couldn’t understand what she had done wrong. it took the third exorcism for her to find out what it was. holy water sprinkled on her, until it suddenly halted in the air. she stared at it, eyes wide, before turning her head and the droplets hit the exorcist right in the face.

“the hold the demon has on her grows stronger,” the man gravely spoke.

it finally dawned on her. she tried to defend herself, tell them she wasn’t doing it on purpose, that she hadn’t done it at all. she would know if she were possessed, and she wasn’t. she cried, shouted, but no one listened. none of it worked. her parents were desperate to save their daughter, and the priests wanted to save her soul.

the exorcisms continued, increasing in their length and intensity. days blurred together, prayers ringing in her ears and her hope for a light at the end of the tunnel growing smaller and smaller. her father would cry out, “please save my little girl! please bring her back!”

“i’m still here, papa,” yazmín sobbed. “i never left!” but after awhile, even that didn’t sound true.

somedays she’d fight back, although unintentional. her hands curling into fists would freeze the pipes, a glare could boil a drink, a missed kick would bring a wave of water over from their neighbor’s pool. each time they grew more convinced of her possession, while yazmín realized she wasn’t without options. she made a few attempts to run away, only to fail because she was only thirteen.

then, quite suddenly, that daily routine came to an end. it all started with the newest exorcist coming in, and wondering aloud if there was any saving her. her mother had gasped, and father looked ready to cry. he and the other priests went to another room, and came back with a new plan. they would take her out of this environment, to somewhere no demon could survive. it could take months, years to return, if she ever did. it was their last resort.

yazmín didn’t give her parents a chance to answer. “i’m not leaving my home!”

“now, young lady, that isn’t-”

“i didn’t do anything wrong!” her cry shook the house, the pool next door sloshed, and the dam holding back the river above the down cracked ever so slightly.

“baby, please--” her mother tried to calm her, but yaz shook her head, tears already on her face.

“i’m-” the sink heads burst off. “not-” cracks filled the area around the pool, “leaving.” every pipe in the house ruptured, breaking the drywall apart with the force of the water coming out.

a similar scene took place in other houses, backyards flooded other backyards, and the crack of the dam grew longer.

“she must be stopped!” the priest cried out, unsheathing a dagger from beneath his robes and headed toward yazmín, quickly. “or else she will take us all!”

there were screams and yells all around her. time slowed down. yaz watched each muscle of his body raise the dagger towards her, and she grabbed for anything to help her. water interlinks with her finger and forms a sharp knife of its own. his dagger dragged over a centimeter of her neck, and the pain woke her up. she used the weapon in hand and stabbed it through his body.

metal clattered to the floor with a thud of a body. everyone was staring at her. within moments, yaz passed out.

the next few months of her life would be hard to account for. the government had gotten involved, as did charles xavier. her meltdown had brought their town a lot of attention, along with questions. no one found out that she caused it. authorities wished to keep her with them, but charles had somehow convinced them to let her attend xavier’s. later, yaz would find it ironic her attempt to stay home would send her away anyways.

things were hard for awhile, but she grew accustomed to her new life. she even enjoyed it, being around people like her and free to use those powers without consequence. nearly a decade later, the year of exorcisms was becoming a distant memory. but the government hadn’t forgotten about her.

someone powerful enough to nearly sink an entire town at thirteen, who could surly do even worse now, was not easily filed away by those in charge. they had contacted professor xavier in the beginning stages of the omega project, then reached out to her. they offered her a deal: a complete wipe of her record in exchange for her participation. yazmín hated them for it. they made her an offer she couldn’t refuse, and she accepted it with gritted teeth.

now, yazmin is moved out of the comfort of xavier’s and lives in a cold compound with strangers she prefers to keep at arms length. her life is a whirlwind again, and she’s not sure when it’ll stop this time, if it ever will.

#c23intro #eyes like sinking ships on waters so inviting —「 appearance 」#like the oceans dancing with a storm —「 walkman 」#reaching out across the sea. —「 interactions 」#exorcism tw #murder tw

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