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#i'm still thinking about having an emergency cane to help me get up when my pain is bad but idk if it's worth the investment
uncanny-tranny · 9 months
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I'm still thinking about how ashamed I was (and am) with being open about my pain because I am so young. It's so hard to feel worthy of having your pain taken seriously when the people around you insist that young bodies are always in pristine, untouched condition and that you must earn your pain through aging. Never is it considered that young people aren't lying or being a hypochondriac for expressing their pain.
Young people can be in life-altering pain. Young people can have debilitating pain. It doesn't matter what age it happens because pain doesn't discriminate. Complaining about pain and doing things to prevent needless pain aren't something you have to "earn" through aging.
If you want young people to be in less or lesser pain, then encourage them to do whatever they can to minimize it. Don't downplay what they're experiencing. Not everything is a lie, not every experience that is different than yours is exaggeration or deceit.
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This post is a shout out to all my chronically ill friends ❤️
"If you are in that much pain just go to the emergency room" 🤣🤣🤣 no, just no. The ER does not do what most people think it does. It exists for people who need to be stitched up or suddenly broke a bone. They do NOTHING for pain management and actually will verbally harass patients for going in and wasting their time. I know. I've been one of those patients harassed by the people who are supposed to help me.
"They gave you a referral to a specialist right? Are they going to see you next week then?" - it took 3 months for me to get an appointment with Neurology after getting the referral. Genetics took 2 months, cardiology was a month, and I'm still waiting to hear back from St. Louis about seeing a neurologist there (that referral was put in on August 9th). It takes months to get in to see these doctors, then they spend about 5 minutes (10 if you're lucky!) talking OVER you. Every visit is a fight against the doctors ego to see if you will actually get help this time.
"Maybe you should go to Mayo Clinic or some other place out of state!" - cool, who is going to take me? Who is going to take a few weeks out of their own life to drive me there and stay with me while the doctors do their thing? I can't see so I can't drive myself. I haven't worked since July because of being sick, so I can't afford a ride or place to stay.
"Can't you go a couple days without medication? I know the pharmacy ran out, but it really can't be that big of a deal right?" - I don't even know how to respond to this one. Seriously? The doctor put me on the meds for a reason. Most of them have serious and dangerous side effects when you go through withdrawal. Also depending on how long I'm without them, I have to start back at a lower dose and work back up to the dose I was originally on. Which means TWO prescriptions that I now have to pay for.
"Do you really need to bring your walker/cane with? It's annoying to try and get it in and out of the vehicle. Plus it just slows us down" - do you really need your legs with? It's annoying having to wait for you to put your shoes on. Plus when you wear those specific shoes you walk weird. If you can't stand someone using a mobility aid to help them get around then go find a new group of friends to do things with. I have just as much of a right to be able to go out and enjoy things as anyone else.
There are plenty more things I could add to this post but I'm exhausted.
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loveroftoomanyfandoms · 11 months
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Meet Me in the Aftermath
Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader
Summary: After Matt cancels date night because he has to stay late at the office, Reader decides to bring date night to him, only to figure out that Matt had lied to her about working late, and not for the first time.
Warnings/Tags: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Make-Up Sex
Word Count: 4k
A/N: Enjoy!
"I'm sorry, sweetheart, I'm going to have to cancel our date tonight. Something came up at work so I'm going to have to stay late at the office ." 
Y/F/N Y/L/N sighed as she listened to the voicemail her boyfriend, Matt, had left on her phone a few minutes before. The perils of dating a defense attorney, she thought. There's always a work emergency.
She had met the kind, handsome lawyer about eight months prior, having literally run into him while getting her morning iced latte.  
Y/N had been rooting around in her purse while heading out of her favorite coffee shop and hadn't noticed someone entering as she was leaving. "Oh shit," she had gasped as she bumped into a man wearing a business suit, the lid on her iced latte popping off and the sweet drink soaking through his crisp white shirt. Good going, dumbass, she thought as she noticed that the man was carrying a long white cane. You just spilled iced coffee on a blind man.
She had grabbed some napkins from the counter near the door and begun dabbing at the man's shirt. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry, sir, here, let me get that." 
"It's alright, miss," a smooth, deep voice replied. "It's my fault anyway. I'm afraid I wasn't watching where I was going."
Y/N's eyes had immediately snapped up to the man's face, her own heating as she took in the five o'clock shadow on his chiseled jawline, the eyes of unknown color hidden behind red-tinted sunglasses, and the dark hair that had appeared to have been freshly trimmed. Holy fuck, he's hot.
She had huffed out a laugh, the tension disappearing with the man's obvious joke. “In that case I can probably forgive you.”
The man’s plush lips had turned up into a grin. "Let me make it up to you by buying you another coffee?"
Y/N had nodded. “Deal.”
The man then offered a hand for her to shake. "I’m Matt, by the way."
Y/N had taken it, her heart picking up at the feel of Matt's fingers brushing against her own. "Y/N."
Matt had gestured towards the counter. “Well, Y/N, shall we?”
They had gone up to the counter and placed their orders, Matt ordering a large black coffee for himself and correctly identifying Y/N's drink. "Any modifications?" he had asked.
Y/N had shaken her head. "No, just regular."
They had chatted while waiting on their coffees, and by the time Y/N had left the café that day she not only had a replacement latte, but also a date for that evening.
Y/N shook herself out of her reverie. Matt's been working late a lot lately, she thought, so maybe I should surprise him with dinner at his office. He still has to take a break to eat, right?
She placed a to-go order from Matt's favorite restaurant and picked up a bottle of wine from the bodega down the street from her apartment, then picked up their food and headed towards Nelson and Murdock.
She slowed as she approached Matt's office. The windows were dark, but that wasn't necessarily surprising if Matt was working alone.
She frowned as she tried the outer door. Locked. 
She called Matt's office, and when there was no answer she tried his cell. Straight to voicemail. 
Y/N wasn't sure what to do, so she walked to Matt's apartment thinking maybe she had just missed him and he had already gone home for the night even though it was still early.
He didn't answer the door there either, so Y/N tried his office one last time before giving up.
As she stood outside of Nelson and Murdock, she couldn't help but come to the conclusion that Matt had lied about having to work late, and wondered if all of the other times he had canceled dates with her due to 'work' had probably also been lies. 
Anger and embarrassment shot through her. I'm such an idiot.
She called his phone one last time. "It's me," she said to his voicemail. "Since you couldn't make it for our date tonight I thought I'd surprise you by bringing our date to you, but I guess I was the one who was surprised when you weren't at your office or at home. Hope you're enjoying whatever it is you're actually doing instead."
Her voice broke. "I thought you were different from every guy I had ever dated, Matt… I thought I could actually trust you. Guess I was wrong. Stupid me."
She hung up and marched into the alleyway next to Nelson and Murdock, throwing the long-since-cold takeout into the dumpster before slumping down onto the dirty asphalt and bursting into tears, the fight drained out of her. 
Clearly Matt had gotten bored with her, but what Y/N didn't understand was why he was still stringing her along rather than having broken up with her already. Probably just waiting until someone better comes along.
A sudden noise came from her right, drawing her attention.
She sniffled, feeling even more pathetic as she saw Daredevil standing near her.
He took a careful step towards her, reaching out with one gloved hand. "Are you alright, miss?" he asked, worry lacing his tone.
Y/N sighed and shook her head. "Yeah, I'm okay. Well, physically, at least. Emotionally, however…" She trailed off with a hiccup.
"Anything I can help you with?"
Y/N shook her head. "Not unless you can give me some dating advice."
She sniffled once again and wiped her eyes before standing. "I was supposed to have a date with my boyfriend tonight but he canceled on me because he said he had to work late, so then I decided to surprise him by bringing dinner to his office but when I got there his office was closed up."
"Maybe he's working from home," Daredevil replied reasonably.
Y/N shrugged. "I thought about that, so I went by his apartment. He wasn't there either. And when I tried calling him his phone was turned off."
She shook her head. "If this had been the first time it wouldn't be a big deal, but he's constantly canceling dates because he has to 'work late'. At first I thought it was fine because I mean his job is really important and what he does truly helps people so it makes sense that he'd work late pretty often, but if he lied about working late tonight then were all of the other times he said he had to work late also lies?"
Daredevil remained silent.
Y/N sighed. "He's probably either bored with me or seeing someone else and just doesn't have the decency to break up with me."
"Do you honestly believe that?" There was an edge to Daredevil's tone that if Y/N didn't know any better, she would have described as hurt .
Y/N started to tear up again. "No, not really, but what else am I supposed to think? He's constantly canceling on me and when we do actually get together he's always distracted and barely shows me any affection. Wouldn't you think the same thing?"
"How long have you two been together?"
"Eight months." She shook her head. “I always do this. I pick emotionally unavailable men and I wind up getting hurt."
She sniffled. "I should've known he was too good to be true, that he would be just like every other lying jerk I've ever dated. And you know what the worst part of it is? It’s that unlike with all the others, I actually let myself--" She cut herself off.
I let myself fall in love with him. 
Y/N took a deep breath. "You know what, never mind. I'm just gonna go home and drown my sorrows."
She picked up the bag containing the bottle of wine, which she had wisely not thrown out along with dinner. "Thanks for listening."
Daredevil put a hand on her arm to stop her as she went to pass him. "Can I at least escort you home? You probably shouldn’t walk alone."
Y/N shook her head. "I'll be fine. Besides, you have a city to keep safe -- which, thanks for that, by the way. You're one of the good ones, no matter what anyone says."
Daredevil nodded. "Good luck with everything, then."
"Thanks."
Y/N trudged back to her apartment, took a shower to wash off the alleyway grime, changed into her comfiest pair of pajamas, then poured herself a large glass of wine.
She had just sat down on her sofa when her phone rang, Matt's name flashing on the screen. Must’ve finally gotten my message.
She ignored it and let it go to voicemail. 
Her phone rang a second time, Matt's name once again flashing on the screen.
After it stopped ringing the second time, it immediately rang a third.
Y/N turned her phone off.
Suddenly there was a knock on her door.
She got up, peeking through the peephole to see Matt standing outside her apartment. Great. 
She opened the door a crack. "What, Matt?"
"Can we talk?" Matt replied.
Y/N took in Matt's rumpled appearance. He was wearing a worn pair of sweatpants and a Columbia hoodie, and his hair was disheveled, as if he ( or someone else , Y/N thought as her heart twisted) had been running their hands through it. 
She sighed and opened the door wider. Might as well get this over with. "Fine."
She turned and walked back over to the couch, leaving Matt to close the door behind him.
He sat next to her, an uncomfortable silence filling the air.
Y/N waited for Matt to speak first, not trusting herself to not immediately start crying.
Matt seemed to be weighing his words carefully. Finally, he spoke. "First off, I want to tell you that it's not what you think."
Y/N snorted, anger washing over her once again. "Oh, so you didn't lie about working late tonight in addition to blowing me off for date night for the 5th time in less than 2 months?"
Matt winced. "Okay, maybe it is what you think, but it's not for the reasons you think."
"Then what were the reasons?"
"I… I can't tell you."
"In that case, I'm done talking. You can let yourself out." Y/N stood.
Matt reached out and gently grabbed her wrist. "Wait, Y/N, please," he pleaded.
Y/N's heart squeezed at the look of pain on Matt's face. Damn it. As hurt and angry as she was, she still felt like she owed it to Matt to hear him out.
She sighed and sat back down, adjusting to face him head-on. "You've got 1 minute. Countdown starts now."
"Thank you." Matt let go of her wrist and took a deep breath, seemingly gathering his thoughts before speaking. "Yes, I've been lying to you about having to work late, but I promise I had a good reason. There are things you don't know about me, things that I haven't been able to tell you, but I need you to please, please just hear me out."
Y/N shook her head. "Thirty seconds."
"I promise I never meant to hurt you, sweetheart, and I know what it looks like and what you probably think I've been doing, but I swear to God I'm not cheating on you, Y/N, I'd never even consider cheating on you. I--" Matt's voice broke. "I love you."
Y/N sucked in a breath. Ever since she had realized that she was in love with Matt she had imagined all sorts of different scenarios in which they would exchange their first affirmations of love, but never had she imagined Matt telling her he loved her for the first time in this type of situation. "Te-- Ten," she said shakily.
Matt shook his head. "That's not how I had planned on telling you I love you for the first time--"
"Nine, eight, seven--"
"--But it’s because I love you that I’m trying to protect you--"
"Six, five, four--"
Matt let out a frustrated growl and ran his hands through his hair, messing it up even further. "Damn it, Y/N, I'm Daredevil!"
"Three, two -- what?" Y/N stopped mid-count. "What did you just say?"
Matt’s head dropped to his chest. "I said I’m Daredevil," he repeated quietly.
"No, that's not -- you-- what? You can't be, I just -- How ?"
"The accident when I was a kid… the chemicals that blinded me also enhanced my other senses beyond normal human capabilities."
"I -- I don't -- I can't --" Y/N shook her head in disbelief. "I talked to Daredevil tonight, I --" 
She mentally ran through her earlier conversation with the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. That was hurt in his voice. "Oh my God."
Matt nodded. "I was so scared when I realized that it was you crying in that alleyway by my office. I thought maybe you had been attacked or had gotten hurt somehow, but then when I found out that the only one who had hurt you tonight had been me, I --" His voice broke. "I’ve been so focused on trying to deal with this new threat to Hell's Kitchen for the past couple of months that I hadn't even realized how I've been neglecting you. I'm so sorry, sweetheart, and I swear to you that I'll spend every single day for the rest of my life trying to make it up to you if you'll let me."
Y/N's mind was reeling. On the one hand, Matt really had been lying to her about having to work late all those times, but on the other… Matt is Daredevil .
Matt took his glasses off and wiped his eyes with his shirt. "Please, Y/N, say something."
Y/N stopped him as he went to put his glasses back on, taking them from him and setting them on her coffee table.
"You love me?" she asked, looking directly into his warm brown eyes.
Matt nodded emphatically. "I do. I do love you, sweetheart, with my entire being."
"And you promise me, no more secrets?"
Matt shook his head. "No more secrets. I swear."
"Then there's probably something I should tell you too, something that I've been keeping from you for a while now."
Matt tilted his head in confusion. "There is?"
Y/N nodded. "Yeah. You see, Matt, the thing is, is that…" She took a deep breath, unable to contain a grin. "I love you too."
The bright smile that lit up Matt's face could've powered all of Hell's Kitchen. "Well now, that's a pretty big secret you've been keeping from me," he said cheekily. "I don't know if I can forgive you for that."
Y/N huffed out a laugh and playfully swatted at Matt's chest. " Matt --"
She was cut off by Matt catching her wrist, pulling her to him, and pressing his lips to hers.
Y/N relaxed against him as he deepened the kiss. "How about --" she said between kisses. "--We call it even."
"Deal," Matt replied, sliding his hands down to grip her thighs. 
Y/N linked her arms around his neck as he pulled her over to straddle his lap.
Y/N shivered as Matt's hands slid under the sides of her sleep top. Before he had become distracted over the past several months, Matt had been an extremely tactile person, always finding little ways to touch Y/N, be it by letting his touch linger when passing something to her, holding her hand while they walked together, putting his arm around her while they cuddled on one their sofas, or (this last one admittedly being Y/N's favorite gesture) by being the most attentive lover Y/N had ever had.
The first time she and Matt had made love he had explored every inch of her before taking her apart, his mouth and hands making Y/N feel things she had never experienced with anyone else before. You’re so beautiful, Y/N, he had whispered as he slowly sank into her. Feel so good, like you were made just for me.
Matt always seemed to know exactly how Y/N wanted it, and tonight was no exception.
He pulled her sleep top up and over her head, discarding it on the floor before sliding his large hands across her bare back.
Y/N arched into his touch, gasping out a moan as Matt took the opportunity to circle one nipple with his tongue before sealing his mouth over it.
She shoved at the hem of Matt's hoodie. "Off. Need this off."
Matt nodded, giving her breast that was currently receiving oral attention one last gentle suck before letting go with a soft 'pop' and pulling his hoodie over his head.
Y/N gently ran her nails down Matt's now-bare chest as she ground down against him, relishing the feel of her clothed core brushing against his burdening erection. "God, Matt, you're so hot, want you so bad."
Matt groaned. "Bedroom then?"
Y/N nodded, grinding against him once again. "Uh huh."
Matt slid his hands down to cup Y/N's ass. "Hold on."
Y/N wrapped her arms and legs around him as he stood and carried her to her bedroom.
She sat up as soon as he had deposited her in her bed, barely giving Matt time to get his socks and shoes off before she was reaching for him and pulling him to her for a kiss.
Matt guided her into a lying position and began kissing his way down her body, his hands following down to her pajama pants. 
He sucked in a breath as he hooked his fingers in the waistband. "No panties?"
Y/N shook her head. "Forgot to grab some and didn't feel like coming back to my room to get any."
Matt smirked. "Lucky me."
Y/N raised her hips in silent permission as Matt slid her pajamas down her legs, discarding them on Y/N's floor.
Y/N let out a gasp as Matt licked a broad stripe up her folds.
Matt groaned. "Jesus Christ, Y/N, you're dripping for me."
He carefully inserted two fingers into her. "Wanna take care of you, sweetheart, make you feel good," he said, slowly pumping his fingers in and out of her. "Need to get you nice and ready for me, don’t want to hurt you. Never want to hurt you, Y/N, love you so much."
Y/N bit her lip to keep from crying out as Matt curled his fingers to hit just the right spot, adding his tongue to the mix for more direct stimulation. 
He had learned very quickly how to make her come using only his hands and mouth and seemed to be on a mission to make her get there as fast as possible tonight, appearing to be just as desperate to be inside Y/N as she was to have him inside her.
"Matt…" Y/N panted as her core began to tighten. "Matt, baby, please ."
Matt groaned as he began to pump his fingers faster. "That's it, sweetheart. I gotcha."
"Matt, I --" Y/N shattered as he gave her already-sensitive bud a gentle suck.
Matt groaned and carefully pulled his fingers out of her.
Y/N pulled him up to her, kissing him thoroughly and moaning at the taste of herself on his tongue.
She shoved at the waistband of his sweatpants. "Need you now, Matt. Want you in me."
Matt sucked in a breath and shoved his sweatpants down and off, kicking them away then fumbling towards Y/N's nightstand drawer for a condom.
Y/N sat up and grabbed his arm. "No, wait."
Matt froze and turned back towards her, his brow furrowing. "Did you change your mind? Do you not want to--"
Y/N shook her head. "No, that's not it. I…"
She took a deep breath. "I've been on birth control for the past three months. I meant to tell you when I first went on it, but, well…" She trailed off.
Understanding dawned on Matt's face. "Sweetheart, are you sure?"
Y/N faltered. You literally just accused him of cheating and now you're telling him he can go bare? Way to send mixed signals, Y/N. "I-- I mean we can still use a condom if you want, I just… I thought--"
Almost as fast as Y/N could blink, Matt had cupped her face in his hands and pressed his lips to hers. "I love you," he said in a hoarse voice. "I love you, and I swear I'll never betray your trust again."
Y/N nodded quickly. "I love you too." 
Matt kissed her once again, guiding her back down and adjusting himself over her.
He took himself in hand, sliding against Y/N's folds a few times before notching himself at her entrance.
Y/N gasped as he eased into her, her hands wrapping around his back.
Matt hissed. "Shit , you feel so good, sweetheart. Wanna take this slow, want to savor you."
Y/N nodded. "Uh huh."
It felt like the first time all over again, with Matt kissing and caressing every inch of her he could reach as he made love to her. "You're so good, Y/N," he whispered. "So beautiful, both inside and out. I'm so lucky that you're mine."
Y/N's breath hitched, her eyes beginning to well with tears. "Matt…"
"God , I love you," Matt continued, his voice breaking. "Only one for me. Don't want anyone else, Y/N, just you."
Y/N shook her head. "Me either. Only want you, Matt."
"I'm yours, Y/N, only yours. You have me, body and soul." Matt hissed in a breath. "I'm close, sweetheart, want to feel you come with me."
Y/N could feel the familiar tightening in her core beginning again, begging for release. She nodded. "I'm right there, Matt, almost."
Matt slid his hands behind her and picked her up, shifting to sit back on his haunches as he picked up his pace.
The new angle drove him even deeper into Y/N, making her see stars. 
"Yes, Matt, yes, yes-yes-yes-yes-YES --" she chanted as her orgasm washed over her.
Matt groaned. "Y/N, fuck, sweetheart --"
Y/N shuddered and clenched around him as he pulsed inside of her, filling her with warmth.
Matt nuzzled her nose with his then kissed her softly, gently laying her back down before carefully pulling out of her.
He kissed her again. "I'll be right back, okay?"
Y/N hummed blissfully. "Mmhmm."
She laid there with her eyes closed, vaguely registering the sound of water running in her bathroom sink.
She roused when she felt Matt gently cleaning between her legs with a damp washcloth, which he added to their pile of discarded clothing before pulling her to him for a snuggle and burying his face in her neck.
“God, I’ve missed you,” he shakily whispered against her skin. “I hadn’t even realized how checked out I've been. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”
Y/N ran her fingers through the sides of Matt's hair, tilting his head up and placing a gentle kiss right between his eyebrows. "It's okay. I understand."
Matt sighed. "Thank you, by the way. For believing me. And for being kind and caring enough to try and surprise me with dinner."
"Of course." Y/N paused. "I'm sorry for thinking the worst of you."
Matt shook his head. "It was like you said, what else could you possibly have assumed?"
Y/N grinned. "Certainly not that my boyfriend is secretly a vigilante superhero, that's for sure."
She rolled them over so she was straddling Matt's thighs. "Now," she said, trailing a finger down Matt's torso, "why don't you show me how some of those enhanced abilities of yours work?"
Matt smirked and reached for her. "Oh sweetheart, I'd be happy to."
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tarrenterror25 · 10 months
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thoughts no one asked for but my mind has no mouth and must scream
Alfred Pennyworth x Vampire!F!Reader
Rating: M
Word Count: 2.1K
Tags: horror, mentions of experimentation/chemicals, medical stuff, vampirism, blood, side effects of vampirism, victims of vampirism, blood withdrawal, biting, found family
Notes: This has bounced around in my head for awhile (as with most of my thoughts) and finally I had a breakthrough with it! Not only do I love vampires, but it was inspired by me thinking about how Alfred might be with someone who needs a different kind of taking care of from the standard illness and cuts and bruises. I hope you guys like it! I wrote most of this in one sitting and it's been in the drafts for awhile so I'm finishing it up, but it's not super cleaned up or anything, just wanted to get it out the drafts finally.
Line in the moodboard is from "I'm Not A Vampire" by Falling in Reverse.
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Was it desperation?
Was it curiosity?
Were you looking for a cure of some kind? Jealous of whatever breakthrough he was on the verge? Were you merely clumsy and contaminated yourself?
Whatever the reason was didn't matter anymore. All you know is that you should not have messed with Kirk Langstrom's work.
It changed you.
Altered you.
God, it felt like fire under your skin, in your bones. It's was like you could feel the change brewing in your insides, your blood raced through your body and you could hear it. Your pulse throbbed at the points and it felt like hammers pounding.
You went home hoping to take a few days and get over your sickness, but it only progressed. For days you were sweating, coughing, not keeping any food down, and your body was constantly cramping making you fold and want to cave in on yourself. You asked yourself if this is what dying felt like, you were in so much pain. After a week, you caved, you picked up your phone to call for help. Just before you could finish dialing the emergency number, you blacked out.
When you woke up, you found yourself in a dark alley laying on the damp ground. You sat up and found yourself covered in blood; it was on your hands, your clothes and....your chin.
A bloodied and mangled body lay next to you.
And then the Batman showed up.
You were hysterical when he found you and he explained that you had been on the hunt for weeks now, feeding on the citizens of Gotham, lurking in the shadows, and evading him. You thought he would hurt you, arrest you, but what you didn't expect was for him to help you up and take you back to his home.
The Batman, Bruce Wayne, was and is still convinced he can help you, cure you, it'll just take some time, until then you've been at Wayne Tower recovering from your prolonged frenzied episode of draining Gothamites of their blood.
Enter Alfred Pennyworth.
When Bruce brought you to his home, he set you on a table in the batcave and the butler set aside his cane and immediately rolled up his sleeves to get to work on you.
The first few days at the Wayne home were tough; Alfred watched over you since Bruce was busy moonlighting as a vigilante. The butler set you up in a guest room to recover.
He kept a journal on a nearby end table in your room where he would take notes on your condition. He asked you standard medical questions, jotted down some observations, it was all very clinical and made you feel like....well, like a monster.
"Is...all of that really necessary?" you ask from where you sit up in the bed. "Well, if we are to cure you, then yes," Alfred replies matter of factly. "How come you never ask me anything else?" "What do you mean?" he asks placing his hands behind his back and looking to your curiously. "Like...how my day is? Or about the weather? Just...normal stuff." His brow quirks up a bit and he closes the journal, removing his glasses as he looks to you. He says, "Miss, you have been in this room for the past few days and as the one tasked with watching over you, I know very well how your day is and as for the weather, Gotham isn't known for its varying climate apart from the rain and fog, so not exactly a riveting topic." You actually chuckle at his snark and he smiles seeing that you take to his style of humor. "Then I'll ask about you then," you say.
From then, Alfred would come in, take his notes and make sure to sit with you to chat with you about...well, anything.
As for your vampirism, Bruce and Alfred were able to make note of your symptoms and condition: No sunlight. It won't disintegrate you like in the movies, but some component from Langstrom's formula made you susceptible to it. It hurts the hell out of your eyes, like they'll melt right out of their sockets and it makes your skin crawl, like a violent itch that's inside you. Artificial lights are okay, but it still hurts your eyes so Alfred keeps the curtains drawn in your room and tries to keep the rest of the home dimly lit if you're up and about. This does mean you've become a bit of a night owl. They found that you can see much better in the dark than the average human. In fact, all of your senses were heightened, not to superhuman levels, but far more than the average person. Also, yes, you indeed had fangs. They ache when you hunger and elongate. When they aren't out, they are still quite prominent in your mouth. You practice in the mirror talking in a way that doesn't bare them too much.
You don't have super strength, but you're stronger than you should be. Alfred came into your room and discovered "claw" marks on the wood floors. This was during the end of your first week when your withdrawal was setting in.
Blood.
Bruce and Alfred discovered that unfortunately you needed a sizeable intake of human blood in order to stay sane and lucid otherwise you would frenzy again. The pair was doing all they could to find a decent substitute, but you couldn't keep any of it down.
Finally, Bruce had to cave, you couldn't take it anymore and you needed sustenance. He left to retrieve something for you from the local blood bank. Alfred stayed beside you until Bruce could return.
You skin is clammy, sweat covering your body, your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head as the will to stay conscious and sane threatens to leave you. It's Alfred sitting in the bed with you, holding you, cradling you to him, telling you to fight your urge just a little longer that helps you stay lucid. You weakly wrap your arms around him, in tears because your body aches terribly, your teeth hurt, the root of your fangs throbbing in your gums as they beg to come out and tear into flesh. "I..I can't," you weakly say. "Yes," he says firmly as he holds you against him hoping to stifle your trembling body. "Yes, you can, just hold on a little longer." You look up at him with half lidded eyes. "I don't want to hurt you, Alfred," you plead softly. "You won't," he says firmly. The conviction in his voice, the trust he places in you wills you to hold out just that much longer. Finally, Bruce returns with sustenance for you.
Fast forward to now.
It's deemed that you aren't safe to leave the home unless it's an emergency. Bruce just doesn't want anything to happen to you or anyone else. He's not sure how tempted your condition will be to harm an innocent.
When he's able, Bruce continues working on a cure for you. In the meantime, he has finally managed to make a synthetic blood substitute for you so no more runs to the blood bank.
Alfred came to terms that you would be living with them for awhile so he's taken it upon himself to try and make you more comfortable with your condition.
You have a special part of the fridge dedicated to you. Alfred helps concoct the blood mixture and puts it into drink pouches that conceal the contents. And he was the one who suggested to Bruce to add flavor to them.
He's bought you black out curtains for your room and did his best to soundproof it a little so you won't hear him when he's bustling about doing his chores or work while you sleep.
Since he's the only person you really get to see, the two of you have grown quite close, like really close.
Alfred can't stay up for very long once the sun goes down, but he tries to for you. Since you can't really go anywhere, he's done his best to bring entertainment to you. It's become a hobby to sit on the couch together in the parlor and watch movies complete with popcorn and box candy, well, for Alfred anyways.
Human food was tricky now. Consuming it was off the table. You learned this when tried to scarf down a plate of food Alfred brought to you. It only took some ten minutes before it unceremoniously came back up. It left you in agony for a couple of days. Even tasting it was hard because it made you gag, but you could smell it. Despite not being able to consume it, you asked Alfred to teach you a few things around the kitchen.
You're a decent match at chess and since the two of you have nothing but time, you've convinced him to partake in other board/card games. There's a scoreboard on the fridge with tally marks under the three of you for each of your respective wins at Uno.
You asked Alfred if you could dive into the collection of books in the library since you're up alone at night with nothing to do. He happily obliges and eventually it becomes part of your routine for him to read to you in the morning. He wakes up, gets his morning coffee and eats breakfast just as you settle into bed for sleep. He comes to sit by your side and reads a few pages to you until you sleep.
Cooking, reading, gardening, games, and even some Batman related research, all things you and Alfred started doing together.
You physiology changed and you're kinda curious if...everything else works the same.
It does.
While sitting outside with you, soaking up the moonlight, Alfred looks at you for what feels like a minute too long to be any normal look. You find yourself glancing over at him more than usual, thighs pressing together when he gets close to you.
Alfred started off as being wary of you, but the more time he spends with you, he sees just another person, no matter the "how", a victim of circumstance. It ignites his need and desire to protect. And his kindness towards you where others would be scared has attracted you to him.
When the two of you finally admitted feelings and took things further, that's where it gets dicey.
Your first kiss with Alfred had the hairs on the back of your neck standing up as soon as his lips met yours and when his hand gently found its way to your waist you had to firmly push him away.
"I'm...I'm sorry," he says. "I've crossed a line haven't I?" You just stare at him, your hand still on his chest. Some hypotheticals churn in your mind before you grasp the front of his pressed shirt and tie and pull him to you for another kiss, a little more passion this time. He's taken aback by the strength with which you pull him to you, but responds to you. As soon as his tongue meets yours, you push him back again, hang your head and shake it. "No," you say with a sigh. "Can't do that." It was...awkward to explain to Alfred that your uh, feelings down below made you feel other things as well. "It feels the same like...like when I'm hungry. Like...really hungry," you explain. "I understand," he says with a soft smile and takes your hand in his. "We'll take it slow for now? How does that sound?"
Taking it slow was...difficult.
The two of you spent more time together, did more together, and never went past a chaste kiss or a warm embrace, but in your bones you wanted more. It was started to burn you like fire.
Even when the two of you graduated to soft touches and caresses, your heart pounded fervently. You needed more, but if you became too passionate you'd frenzy. But the slow pace was agonizing and borderline felt like torture.
But Alfred's understanding; the two of you find other ways to satisfy your needs in a way that doesn't compromise either of your safeties.
You jokingly suggested wearing a gag to keep you from biting him and the two of you laughed, but then a silence fell between the two of you. You both looked at each other and blinked, silently both considering the idea.
Some days, Alfred feels thankful for your circumstance as being at the Wayne home can be lonely. He appreciates the extra company to entertain. There's a dysfunctional element to household, but it certainly is starting to feel like the makings of a family.
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floosies · 4 months
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Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas
steve harrington x poc!fem reader
summary: always the babysitter, but has the father figure found the mother figure to help put up with the nonsense?
warnings/tags: friends to lovers, fluff, cursing, (p.s. despite mentions of s4, eddie is still alive here)
a/n: stevie deserves the world and if a fic is how to do that then so be it. merry xmas to my favorite golden boy ❤🎄☃️
tagging: @reidsbtch for the beautiful moodboard 🤍
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The holiday season in previous years for the Harrington's meant trips to Australia or Florida, anywhere else where there isn't midwestern cold air blowing around them. Steve would begrudginly string along, forgotten in a hotel room or given spending money and told to have fun in the resort.
It was 1990 now though, and at 23, he was spending this Christmas at his own place with his own traditions now. One of which was choosing a Christmas movie or show to watch as a group. Though his and Robin's place was considerably small they always made it work. This year however Home Alone had just come out and the plan had been to get tickets on a night everyone could make it.
Only scheduling was becoming hell, everyone had plans or work. The Wheelers were planning a family trip with the Byers, Eddie had gotten a new job with more hours so his uncle could have some more rest time, Robin and Vickie as well as Lucas and Max were planning family centered stuff, which left the always trustee Dustin to promise Steve he would go with him.
It was all he would talk about to her, how everyone else had basically ditched him and here he was again relying on Dustin to step in. She heard him intently as they shelved vhs tapes onto the tinsel topped displays, "how do you think I feel? This is my first Christmas away from home. Although I do enjoy being able to hear Wham singing and not my folks yelling over it." She quipped as he sighed, his eyes rolling, "at least your parents hung around for the holidays, I think mine are in Florida right now." She shrugged, "oh Steve lighten up tis the season and you have little Dustin to cheer you up." She further taunted him by throwing him one of the candy canes from their small tree they had on the check out counter.
She'd moved to Hawkins earlier in the year with the only goal of surviving on her own away from her previous situation. Within a month she was hired at the Family Video and met both Steve and Dustin in the middle of a heated debate about batteries and star wars. It was Dustin who vouched for her to join their friend group especially after seeing her homemade twilight zone pin and weird al cassette in her car. However he only ever regretted it when he got into trouble, because now he wouldn't hear the end of it from her and Steve.
Considering Dustin, he had come in before the store closed, ever thankful he ran into her first and not Steve. His face worried and guilt ridden, "what'd you do this time dusty? Am I going to have to talk to your mom again?" She joked as he mocked back, "that was so not cool, but no. It's about the movie night with Steve...I messed up." She was curious now but before she could ask what he meant, Steve had come up from the back of the store, "Henderson you better be ready to get all the snacks dude, we are going in heavy this year since-" catching a glimpse of Dustin's sour face he stopped his ramble, "do we need to talk to Higgins and your mom again?" Rolling his eyes he shook his head, "again totally uncalled for and embarrassing. You guys didn't need to be there" She quipped back "Then why are we on your emergency contact list?" He groaned, "whatever anyways no, that's not why i'm here. I'm sorry dude I royally screwed up my schedule -" "No. No. No! Not you too!" Steve cried out in frustration, "I literally had to beg Keith to give me Saturday night off." Dustin felt like shit about this, "I'll make it up to you I promise. It's just Suzie is coming down from Utah with the whole family and my mom has this whole dinner planned. I'll bring her by so you can meet her!"
She really felt bad for Steve now. He was genuinely hurt by now, it was written over his face. In the back of her mind she knew better but before she could regret it or overthink it, the words flew out of her mouth, "I'm free Saturday night if you still wanna go see that movie? I still haven't been to the theatre here so it would be cool to see the rest of Hawkins?" Steve looked at her about to decide whether to shoot down her kindness or ask if she's serious when Dustin speaks, "problem solved! Thanks so much! You guys'll have all the fun in the world. I got run." He started for the door with a 'merry holidays!' as he ran out and back into his mom's car.
Steve took his hands into his face with a loud sigh, "I was being serious Steve you literally said you did this every year, don't let the tradition fade out because those gremlins can't make it." He looked up at her, "well I guess it couldn't hurt." She smiled at him nudging his side with her shoulder, "see theres the holiday spirit. I'm going to start getting the store ready to close now though." He watched as she walked off to start turning off the window lights while thinking about how happy she seemed at his approval. He didn't want to read too much into but could it be that she might like him?
-
What was she thinking? Sure he was cute but from what everybody had mentioned so far, he was some sort of big shot around the area. He did say yes though, but it was probably a pity yes, still she could always say it was some christmas kindness is all. That's what she told herself for the rest of the week, because deep down she wasn't sure what to make of him entirely.
He spent the rest of the week pestering himself with the notation, the very idea that maybe he had missed something entirely or he was so full of himself that he was misinterpreting the whole thing. Robin was tired of hearing the same ramblings at work and as he dropped her off at home, "don't be a dingus, dingus. She literally said she wanted to go with you, she even brought up having zero plans." He shrugged as he pulled up to Robin's house, "I mean what if she just feels bad for me?" "Oh I think we all feel bad for you." She said opening the car door, he rolled his eyes, "ha ha laugh it up." Slamming the car door behind her she looked back through the car window, "it's gonna be fine Steve."
-
Saturday came by way too quickly for both of them. After multiple outfit changes and hair stylings they both found themselves waiting for the other. Well Steve found himself waiting in front of her apartment door with flowers in one hand and the other in his pocket where he was fidgeting with his car keys.
When the door opened and he saw her in a black mini skirt with sheer tights and a red knit sweater. She had clearly done something right based on the look he was giving her, "hey Steve those for me?" She asked pointing to the bouquet in his hand. He suddenly came to again, "yeah. Yes! I mean yeah, got these for you, I umm...I didn't want to come empty handed?" He was messing this up already, but in her head it was cute how nervous he seemed, She took them gently from his grasp, "well that was very kind of you. Now I feel bad I didn't get you a gift." She stepped back waving for him to enter. He shook his head, "no no, you tagging along to my misery parade is gift enough." This made her giggle, "c'mon it won't be that bad. Plus everyone is saying this movie is really good." He groaned out in frustration "yeah which was why it was so hard to get some damn tickets." She had placed the flowers on a coffee table behind her, "well lets get going then. Don't wanna miss those trailers." Before they could step out he stopped her, "think you need a coat first." Shit, there went the cool look she was going for, "oh yeah. One sec."
For two adults, they both seemed to come off like thirteen year olds, while they did enjoy the movie, they were sneaking glances at each other much than they were paying attention to kevin mcallister's boobytraps. Still they found themselves laughing at the mayhem the kid was making. She hadn't heard Steve ever really laugh like how he was laughing now and it made her smile, no wonder all the girls of Hawkins were into him. Which just made her that much more nervous. He had felt just as nervous since their hands had accidentally touched while trying to get popcorn at the same time.
The movie was great, as expected and they left the theatre in happier mood even arguing about which trap they could make while they walked around the town. It had happened gradually that their arms were linked together while he showed her around adding small stories here and there. Despite the cold and the dark of the night, it was still fairly early but Hawkins was small enough that all the nice scenery could be seen in a half hour or so. They headed back to his car when he suggested the idea of food, "we could get some burgers or a pizza." She perked up at the idea of spending more time with him, "I just got this new christmas record and a new tin of hot cocoa mix?" He smiled at the idea, "take out?" She nodded.
They got the food and headed to her place. The conservation continuing on about both the movie and the stories he'd told her. It'd been a while since he'd felt this comfortable with someone. Maybe it was the hot chocolate or her very decorated home, but he felt good around her. She felt the same way though, he hadn't made her feel the need to keep her guard up. Into their second mug of cocoa she quipped, "you know, you sure do know how to show a girl a good time." He let out a breathy laugh, "I sure hope so. I was worried I was going to bore you to death. By the way you looked great tonight." Her eyes widened in a playful manner, "is that so? Well so did you, that sweater is pretty cute." He smiled at her, his eyes linger onto hers.
The moment grew while the christmas music played in the background, her hand reaching for his as they sat on her couch. His hand also inched closer towards hers, in a soft voice she spoke up "so...christmas tradition saved?" Matching her tone Steve replied, "oh totally, in fact made even better." There it was again, the laugh he was growing to love more and more. They looked at each other a bit more, his thumb rubbing circles over her top of her hand, in the same hushed tone he mustered up the courage to ask, "am I reading this moment right?" She simply nodded, he leaned in closer towards her "got any mistletoe in here?" With a small shake of the head she spoke, "oh I don't think we need that now." Closing the gap their lips met into a tender kiss they didn't pull away from for a while.
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xoxo-bunnydumpling · 2 years
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We've been fighting over how I don't need him to carry me the toilet, or dress me, or feed me, and how I'm not on death's door when I absolutely do need him to help me into the bath. It annoys the fuck out of me that I don't even have to ask him for help, he's ready, he's been standing in the hotel bathroom waiting to help me in and out from the moment I started running the water. Infuriates me that he was sitting on the counter by the sink until I turned and pulled my hip...my yelp of pain had him up and kneeling next to the tub so fast I'm surprised we don't both get whiplash.
He has his arm propped up on the edge of the tub and is definitely staring at my stomach while I simmer in a vanilla mint hell broth to curb some serious fibro flare-age. It's so hot it's steaming a little still and it really makes me wonder if this is what it's like to be a potato, or maybe a carrot, or maybe a pissed off parsnip.
"Stop."
He looks up but doesn't really smile. "What do you think she'll be like?"
I can't stop calling the baby "they", despite what we've seen in the ultrasound in the emergency department. 12 weeks is pretty early to tell but they seemed confident. I guess we'll see when we get home and give it a few more weeks. Eli is just going for it though...he wants to know everything he can about this baby right now and connect however he can.
"They'll be very cute." I have to reach out and touch his face, even if it gets him wet. Because I shouldn't talk to him the way I have been all day, I shouldn't shut him out. "And they'll wonder why their papa is frowning like that."
He has been having a hard time today, and not just because I've been a bitch. My trip to the hospital really wrung him out and he does not have the little smile at one corner of his mouth like he usually does...like something is always a little funny, like he always just talked to someone he likes a whole bunch.
"I'm fine. Just worried about you."
"Well I'm fine and just worried about YOU. So it seems we're at an impasse."
He takes my hand, and kisses it. "I don't like those." He halfway gets up and I think he's going to leave to go take a nap, eat something, any of the number of self care things he's been neglecting but instead...he gets into the bath with me. Clothes and all, he rolls himself into the bathtub, taking great care not to smash my tummy...hissing the whole way.
"Why are you cooking my daughter?! Holy shit, hot hot hot."
"She's a little sweet potato and she'll be nice a soft and squishy when she comes out now."
He arranges himself until he can hang his legs over the side of the tub, flamingo socks dripping water onto the floor. His hands fly up and he's off talking.
"I just...feel so MUCH. And my feelings are very BIG right now and they're so big they don't even fit inside ME." This is the most inelegant explanation he's ever given for anything but it is remarkably effective in letting me know where he's at. Bless him, I forget how much of shock a baby can be for a newbie. How the terrifying and joyful can collide and how purely fucking confusing it can be to your heart.
"If they don't fit, where do they go?"
"Fuck if I know. That's a good question, though."
I can play therapist. This is fine.
"So you're here in your socks..."
"I am."
"What's your next step?"
He thinks for a moment. "Well...they're soggy and bothering me so I will probably either take them off or get out. Then...we should eat and I will probably feel completely differently about my situation after that."
After dinner, he apologizes to me.
"I don't want you to think I think you can't handle yourself."
With my cane in my hand I think it's the perfect, most fitting time to be completely honest with him.
"Sometimes I can't. I shouldn't pretend that I can." It frustrates me, how much less I can do than I could before. How much stronger and able he is than I am and I try so hard not to hold it against him. "I think I get annoyed with you when you help because I don't want to have to need help. It's not you."
The side of his mouth ticks up just slightly, along with the eyebrow on the opposite side. "Oh, were you annoyed with me? I had no idea. I was pretty focused on watching you take a bath." He pulls me closer, we're in the same side of the booth when we don't have to be again, and thinks he's whispering but isn't. "It's disrespectful how into your little belly I am. I get ideas and fully half of them involve my tongue in your bellybutton."
Someone behind us drops their silverware and I have to lean back and breathe or I'll piss myself laughing.
"It's going to get bigger. I might not even HAVE a bellybutton."
"Please...I pride myself on never having jizzed in my pants at Chili's before, don't break my streak."
We get glared at by two old ladies on their way past us, headed towards the door. Eli smiles sweetly at them and one softens up and smiles back a little. Can't take him anywhere, but I'm still gonna.
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colorfulbard · 3 years
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Healing touch
Summary♥︎You were supposed to be studying and enjoying the nice breeze. Too bad a certain someone ruined that for you.
Pairing♥︎UA Student! Touya Todoroki x UA Student, fem! Reader
Warning♥︎Not much to worry about it. Very, very light NSFW content.
Words♥︎3.7 words
A/N♥︎I'm excited for this one. It might be my favorite thing that I've written so far. Everyone in this AU is happy and doing okay! No sadness here, unless I feel like writing some angst. Anyway, I'd love to keep this AU going for a little bit and I do have some ideas, but if you have any ideas go ahead and lemme know! I'd love to hear them.
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The curtains covering the window swayed as a light breeze blew into the room. Pink petals dancing in the air accompanied the wind and began to settle down inside when the breeze slowed down. Those petals were a telltale sign that spring was finally here, and winter was over. That thought brought a smile to your face as you scooped the petals into your hands.
The smile grew when you gave them a quick sniff. The smell was faint, but there. It was a sweet, delicate smell.
"Oh dear, it's still so cold." A frail old women shivered at her desk. "Can you close the window dear?"
You felt your cheeks heat up in slight embarrassment and dropped the petals on a table. "Right, sorry, Recovery Girl," you said sheepishly, "I forgot you're not very fond of the cold." You quickly closed and locked the window, but not before taking in one last feeling of the sweet breeze.
She waved it off and gave you sweet smile. "Don't worry about it, dear," she said whilst standing from her chair, "I'm just going to go grab my sweater really quick." She grabbed her cane, which was resting against her desk.
Recovery Girl murmured to herself as she walked towards the door. "I think I left it in the teacher's lounge." There was a hand on her chin while she thought.
The teacher's lounge was pretty far from the nurse's office, where you currently were. You knew Recovery Girl wasn't as weak as she seemed, but it would be better for her to stay in case of any emergencies. "Are you sure you don't want me to get it for you?" You offered.
She shook her head and was already halfway out the door. "I don't mind walking a little. Let's me stretch my legs a bit," she chuckled to herself, "take over for me while I'm gone." She then left and closed the door behind her.
You nodded and took a deep breath. Despite already having done it a handful of times, being left alone in her office still made you nervous. You were still learning, after all. Your knowledge on medicine didn't match hers by a longshot.
Another issue came when no one was around to ground you and stop you from overusing your quirk. It was similar to Recovery Girl's, except the drawback affected you and was way worse.
The healing part wasn't the issue, you could do that just fine. The issue came when whatever pain they were feeling would be immediately transferred to you. Their pain would fade as it would slowly be felt by you instead. Whenever someone would ask for a more simple explanation you'd bring up the time you had to heal Toga's, a little girl you babysat, papercut. When you did, you felt the stinging sensation on your own finger and she was perfectly fine.
You began to rub at your finger when you thought about it. In hindsight, you could've just let it be, Toga definitely didn't mind it too much. However, the drops of blood coming out were distracting her from homework you were helping her with. So, you quickly healed it and went back to tutoring her. She whined when you did.
A giggle escaped her lips at the memory. Hopefully she was doing alright at her new school. She always seemed so sad whenever you picked up on the days her parents couldn't. The frown would fade when she saw you though. You've tried asking, but she always brushed it off and talked about something else.
With time, it wasn't hard to figure out what was bothering her. Her teacher had talked to you multiple times in the past and told you to tell her parents about quirk counseling. You immediately snapped at her and dragged Toga out before the teacher could say more.
Fortunately, when you briefly mentioned it to Toga's parents, they wholeheartedly agreed with you and switched her school.
Speaking of school and studying, that's what you should be doing. Instead of quirk training, which is what your class was doing at the moment, you were sent to Recovery Girl to train with her. You used to be a part of quirk training until you accidently overworked yourself to the point of exhaustion and passed out.
It mostly involved reading medical textbooks she had on hand. Better to be prepared considering your quirk wasn't always safe to use.
Recovery Girl was most likely going to quiz you really quick when she came back. One thing you loved about studying with her is that whatever grade she gave you on those, it never affected your actual grade. You felt like you were improving and retaining the information that way. When you had asked why she always gave you an A for quirk training she said: "Quirk training is basically a free A for your classmates, I don't see why I shouldn't do the same for you."
You chuckled to yourself and sat down on your desk, which was next to the window, and pulled a book out of your bag. The book was fairly big and heavy, courtesy of Recovery Girl. It fell onto the desk with a light thud. You opened it to where you last left of and tried your hardest to retain the information. You wrote any questions and notes you had on a notebook next to you.
Focusing on the giant book in front of you grew harder as your thoughts drifted off to the breeze from earlier. Your leg began to bounce while you tried to bring your focus back to it. It was to no avail, all you could think about was the nice breeze from earlier.
You glanced back at the door and then at the clock above it. Recovery Girl had been gone for about two minutes now. The teacher's lounge was pretty far, which meant you could enjoy the breeze for a little longer. Five more minutes at most. You smiled, excited, and stood from your chair to quickly open the window.
The moment you did, the familiar sweet-smelling breeze came and caused a couple of papers to go flying. You looked back after hearing them being blown around and quickly went to pick them up. "Whoops," you mumbled.
"Hopefully now I can focus." You placed the papers in a drawer and sat back down on your desk.
You had barely read two lines when the door slammed open, and someone yelled your name.
You jumped in your seat with a yelp because of the sound and turned to whoever called your name. Before you could think of scolding whoever it was, you recognized Tenko and Shuichi with a familiar white-haired menace's arms around their shoulders. They were all still wearing their gym uniforms.
Immediately, you were on your feet and directed them to the vacant bed. When you got a better look at him you flinched. There were various burns covering his arms, along with one on his cheek. "What happened to Touya?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Tenko, who was in the same class as him, began to explain that they, the big three (Keigo, Touya, and Tenko), were invited to a first year class to show off their quirks and help them train. Unfortunately, Touya thought it would be a good time to show off and pushed himself too far. Apparently, some new teacher stopped him before he could. Tenko explained her quirk was some sort of mist that knocked him out.
On his way here he had run into Shuichi who offered to help carry Touya.
You nodded and unzipped his jacket to remove it to get a better look at the burns on Touya's arms. Good thing he had an undershirt on. As you examined the burns, you felt the strong urge to give him a bruise that would match the burn on his cheek. Ultimately, you decided against it. There was no point if you were gonna end up feeling your own wrath when you healed him.
"Alright, Tenko-" his eyes were on you when you called his name with that authoritative tone- "grab that basin and fill it with cold water." You pointed towards a plastic basin sitting on the ground near the bed.
He nodded and left, most likely to the cafeteria.
"Shuichi-" he turned away from Touya to look at you- "I'm gonna need you to try your best to hold him down." He rose a brow, questioning your order.
You explained, "if he wakes up, he's gonna try to stop me from healing him. I need you to make sure he doesn't stop me." It had happened multiple times before when you healed him when he was unconscious. He always grabbed your hands to stop you.
Shuichi nodded and held down the parts of his arms free of burns. You took in a deep breath, preparing for the worst. You rested your hands on his arms and activated your quirk. The second you did, the pain began prickling on your skin. It grew to the point where sweat accumulated on your forehead and you teared up.
"Touya, you idiot," you hissed through your gritted teeth.
It felt awful, you had no idea how Touya manages to do this without flinching. Your skin felt like it was being torn apart all at once. That horrible sensation continued to worsen as his burns slowly healed themselves. From the corner of your eye, you could see Shuichi was considering letting him go to stop you.
"Not yet," you snapped, forcing him to freeze, "wait until his burns are first-degree."
A pained moan managed to sneak past your lips causing Touya to stir and open his eyes. "Wha...?" He asked groggily. It took him a second to realize where he was and what was going on. It didn't take long for him to remember what happened and to realize what you were doing when his eyes were on you.
Touya frowned and tried to sit up, growling in frustration at the feeling of something holding him down. He glared at Shuichi when he noticed it was him. "Let go, lizard." He commanded.
Shuichi ignored him when you said no and because he was called lizard.
Touya directed his glare to you instead. "Y/N, stop it." He squirmed in Shuichi's grip to get out or at least removed your own hands.
When you opened your mouth to respond, a pained groan came out first. "Gimmie a second, you moron," you said, your eyes were clenched shut and your sentences clipped.
Even with eyes closed, you could feel the rage radiating off of him. You didn't let that stop you. He could be angry all he wants when you were done, but you had a job to do right now. You opened your eyes, it took some effort to do so, and finally let go when he had first-degree burns rather than third.
Shuichi let Touya and was by your side in seconds. You would've collapsed without him holding you up. He sat you down on a stool near the bed. You rested your elbows on the Recovery Girl's desk, which was next to the bed, and sighed in relief as the pain faded away.
Touya was sitting up when Shuichi let go, flinching because of the burns, and grabbed your shoulders. "What did I tell you about using your quirk on me?" He demanded, shaking your shoulders.
You glared back at him and slapped his hands away. "I wouldn't have to if you'd just take care of yourself," you retaliated.
Tenko finally returned with the basin, cutting off Touya's response. The basin itself was covered in small icicles on the outside, causing you to raise a brow. After considering the situation at hand, you decided to ask at a later time and prepare to treat his burns.
"Besides, you can't tell me what to do." You stuck your tongue at him while grabbing a some clean rags from the medicine closet. You dipped one of them into the water and sighed at the pleasant feeling of the cold water on your hands.
Another breeze came in as you wrung out the excess water back into the basin. The feeling of the cooling breeze on your skin, paired with the ice-cold water, was heavenly after the pain your experienced. It was a good thing you opened the window again.
You went to place the cool rag on his skin and held in a laugh when he flinched. You went to grab another and handed one to Tenko and Shuichi each. "Dip this in the water and press it to his skin," you instructed.
They both grimaced, but didn't protest at the sight of your exhausted eyes. Meanwhile, Touya was protesting for all three of them combined.
"I don't want that lizard and crusty touching me!" He exclaimed with disgust.
"Should've thought of that when you pushed yourself past your limits! Now stop whining!" You snapped.
Tenko rolled his eyes, "yeah, because me and Shuichi are so excited to touch your gross body." His tone was laced with sarcasm.
Touya scoffed, "look in the mirror," he responded.
"Great comeback."
"Better than those lips of yours."
"What are you looking at my lips for, huh? Don't you have a girlfriend?" Tenko nodded his head towards you.
You held in a sigh that threatened to escape after hearing their banter. From an outsider's perspective it almost seemed like the two genuinely disliked each other. You thought the same at first, but you knew better now. It wasn't until you made a comment to Touya about it that he told you it was all in good fun.
He walking home from school with you by his side when you had complained to him about Tenko.
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You had finished watching them playfully, you didn't know it was playful at the time, berate each other before finally saying goodbye. The moment Tenko was out of earshot, you huffed.
"I don't understand why you two hang out together." You shook your head with a frown. "All you do is make fun of each other." You grabbed Touya's hand when he held it out to you.
Touya rose a brow at you, "what do you mean? It's not like we're being serious." He shrugged it off until he saw your expression. You were shocked with a nervous sweat on your forehead.
Touya held in a laugh. "Did you think we were being serious?" He asked in between concealed laughs.
You turned away from him and scoffed. "Of course not! That would be stupid," you said hastily.
The laugh Touya had attempted to hold back came out full force. He began laughing so hard he had to clutch his stomach. You began to smack his shoulder after letting go of his hand and yelled at him to stop laughing at you.
When he finally stopped, he wiped a tear in his eye and snorted at the glare you were giving him. It made you look like a petulant child. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest. "You can be so cute sometimes, doll." He pressed a kiss to your head.
You gave his back a harsh punch after wrapping your own arms around him. You let out a satisfied noise when he yelped. "I think you mean all the time."
"Of course, my mistake."
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Your cheeks heated up when you thought of the memory. It was a little embarrassing to realize that after two weeks of watching them interact you hadn't picked up on that. You shook it away from your head and went back to the matter at hand. You were currently shuffling through the medicine cabinet, looking for something in particular.
You beamed when you found and pulled a small jar of petroleum jelly. "Alright, children, that's enough." You cut off their little spat. You closed the doors of the cabinet and reached into a drawer right under the cabinet doors. You pulled out a new package of sterile bandages.
You walked back over to his bedside, but before you reach it you stepped in a small puddle. You looked down to see the ice surrounding the basin melting away. It reminded you of the burning question you had earlier. "Tenko, I almost forgot to ask-" you bent down to clean to puddle with unused rags- "where'd you get the ice from?" You asked, pointing to the basin.
"Oh," he turned from Touya and dropped the rag on his arm, "that was Todoroki Fuyumi. She saw me in a hurry with it and asked what happened. I told her it was for this idiot-"
"Hey!"
"-and she used her quirk to freeze the outside to keep it cold," he finished explaining after shoving a rag in Touya's mouth.
You growled and glared at Touya, he spat the rag out and averted his eyes from you. You tossed the petroleum jelly at his head. You grew satisfied when he shrieked in pain. "You idiot! I can't believe you let your little sister worry about you like that!" You exclaimed in anger, ready to toss the bandages too. Even if they wouldn't hurt.
Touya wasn't the least bit fazed by your statement and glared back. "Watch where throwing stuff! That hurt!" He yelled.
"Maybe this'll hurt less!" You tossed the bandages and grumbled when he dodged them. He laughed at you when he did.
That laughter began to fade when he saw you stalking to him with a glare that rivaled his father's. It left completely when you pinched the healthy skin of his cheek harder than his mother ever did. You continued scolding him, paying no mind to Tenko and Shuichi's fearful expressions. Their eyes met and one glanced at the door while the other nodded. Both quickly and quietly went out the door.
After escaping unscathed, they both sighed. "Man, Y/N sure is scary when she wants to be," commented Shuichi after making sure the door closed behind them. Last thing he wanted was for you to hear that and get mad at him.
Tenko shuddered after remembering all the times you had scolded the two of them for going too rough on each other after sparring. "You have no idea." He walked away, determined to get as far away as possible. Shuichi followed close behind.
Meanwhile, back inside the office, you were still scolding him and pinching his cheek. Touya seemed to finally become fed up when you grabbed your hand and pulled it away. "Alright, alright. I get it." He averted his gaze away from you.
When you heard the defeated tone in his voice, you felt a pang in your heart. You knew you probably went a bit too far and felt guilt grip claw its way into your gut. He was probably berating himself in his head already and you probably made it worse. You grimaced and slowly brought your hands to rest on his cheeks, careful of the burn, and forced him to look at you.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have scolded you like that," you said, "I just made you feel worse." You couldn't hide the guilt on your face and began to avert your gaze after dropping his face.
Touya rolled his eyes and grabbed your wrists, making you look at him. "It's fine, you were right." He pressed a kiss to your palm, "besides I like it when you scold me. It's kinda hot." He hid his growing smirk behind the palm of your hand, which was still pressed against his lips.
You could feel your cheeks heat up, and you glared down at him. "Touya..." You grumbled, fighting against the grip he had on your wrists.
"Hmmm?" He had the nerve to act coy.
"Don't act coy, you pervert! Let go!"
When he finally freed your wrists, you flicked his forehead when he did, you began to smear the petroleum jelly on his arms and his cheek. After rubbing the jelly on, you wrapped bandages over it and secured them. For his cheeks you were forced to use a regular bandage. The process was a little tedious, but you did it with the upmost care like always.
After checking with him to make sure the bandages weren't too tight, you pressed a kiss to his arms and cheek. "Just a little something to help heal you faster," you said with a wink, "I'm sure you feel much better now." You idly caressed his bandaged arms.
You stopped and turned away to put away the remaining jelly and toss out the excess bandages. Touya grabbed your arm and stopped you from walking too far. There was a sheepish look on his face, which you rose a brow at. He grabbed you by the back of your neck and forced you down to his level, you tried to ignore the growing heat on your cheeks.
"I think you missed a spot, doll."
You looked down at his lips and pressed a quick kiss there. He smiled and shook his head. "Thank you, sweetheart. But I didn't mean there." The corner of his mouth twitched when he said that.
You rose and pulled away. "What do you mean? Where?" You asked, looking over his body quickly. You didn't see any burns, other than the ones you covered.
You didn't realize the mistake you made until you saw a smirk come to his face. Before you could force him to stop he began to lift his shirt to reveal his toned chest. You shrieked and grabbed his arms to force him to pull his shirt down.
"Touya, quit it!"
"I'm being serious, come on~."
"NO!"
While the both your fought against each other's grip, you hadn't noticed the doorknob of the office turning. It was when the door opened with a squeak that the two of you froze and turned to the door. On the other side of the door was Recovery Girl, Fuyumi, and Keigo.
Recovery Girl and Fuyumi stared in shock, while Keigo had to hold in a laugh. "My, oh my, spring really is in the air, huh?" He teased with a raised brow, "why don't we leave these lovebirds alone for a bit, huh?" He grabbed them both by the shoulder to lead them out.
"Wait, it's not what it looks like!"
"Quit smirking, birdbrain!"
159 notes · View notes
silentxoxaria · 2 years
Text
A Marvel Christmas Special.
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Matt Murdock - ER on Christmas
word count: 770
genre: fluff
warnings: none!
pairings: Matt/You
A/N: I don't know any medical things, so if any doctor things I wrote sound terrible, I'm genuinely sorry.
-
It was Christmas Eve, and of course, you had the night shift in the emergency room; you hated working holiday shifts because every time you did, the only people who were to come in were drunks who got into fights and people with cooking burns.
So far, it was a slow night with some drunks here and there and no cooking burns; people must be eating out instead of cooking.
You were admiring the Christmas tree the hospital set up in the waiting room when two men came in; one had an arm slung over the others shoulder while his other hand held a walking cane, "Foggy, I'm fine." the one with the cane said as they arrived at the check-in desk. "Matt, you're not okay. I found you on the floor of your apartment-" The man supposedly named Foggy whispered yelled as you cut him off. "Hello, how may I help you two today?" you asked them. "Yeah, hi, I uh was wondering if you could give my friend Matt here a check-up. He uh-" "Fell. I fell in the apartment and he thinks I got hurt." Matt said, cutting Foggy off. "Okay, follow me, and I'll make you sure you didn't bruise or sprain anything," you say to Matt, offering a soft smile to his friend, who looked angry but also nervous for his friend.
Matt denied the wheelchair you offered him, so Foggy helped him make his way to an exam room because he could not put his weight onto one of his legs; and Matt sat down on the table "okay, um, ill be right. Outside okay, Matt." Foggy said as he left home, leaving you and Matt, "Okay, can you take your shirt off so I can check to make sure nothing happened to your shoulders and ribs." You requested, "Alright." He said, unbuttoning his white button-up, revealing his upper body.
As you were checking his shoulders for and sprains, you decided to make conversation with him so it'd be less awkward than just examing this poor man in silence, "So Matt, you got a last name?" You asked, moving your hands down more near his collarbone. "Murdock." He answered, not paying any mind to your desperate act of trying to make conversation because he didn't even want to be there in the emergency room at almost midnight on Christmas eve. "Alrighty, Matt Murdock is going to exam your ribs now, okay," "You're wasting your time; I'm fine." He uttered, and you sighed, "Listen, I know you don't want to be here, but your friend out there thinks you might've hurt yourself, so let me just finish up examing your ribs, and I'll let you go and just tell your friend you need pain relievers and rest, okay?" You said counting with the exam, and he didn't reply.
After a couple of seconds, Matt spoke up, "You know what, I never did get your name." He asked, "Y/N, my name is Y/N," you answered. "So Y/N, do you have any plans for Christmas?" "Nope, no plans. What about you?" You asked, moving your focus to his other side. "I have no plans ether." He replied. You were happy, to say the least, that he started talking to, but your happiness soon faded when you touched a specific spot on his side, and Matt flinched at the pain, and you could tell something was wrong. "Matt, were you punched?" You asked, "Umm, yeah. I sorta got mugged; they probably thought I was an easier target because I'm blind." he responded, "Matt, you should've told me earlier." you sighed, "I hoped you at least showed them whos boss." you joked, and Matt laughed "I managed to get a few hits in."
"Alright, Matt Murdock, you can put your shirt back on; you're not seriously hurt. You have a bruised side; I'm recommending you take ibuprofen and put ice on the area to relieve pain, and do not wrap anything tight around your ribs while they are healing." You recommended as Matt rebuttoned his shirt.
As you were about to leave the room, Matt spoke up, "Oh Y/N, if you're still not doing anything tomorrow for Christmas, would you like to come with me to dinner at the Panna II Garden in the East Village around six?" he asked, "Sure, I'd love to." you responded to him as you left the room.
Maybe working the night shift on Christmas eve wasn't such a bad thing.
17 notes · View notes
takuyakistall · 4 years
Text
letters. | floyd leech
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@loolabunnbai
length: 4.5k words
Taku's notes: I'm so sorry for the wait ! I enjoyed making this, fufu~ 
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Huffing, you enclosed your letter inside the white envelope- 'To Jade Leech' you wrote, already feeling giddy and excited over his reply. The letter contained a long rant about your shared interest- mountains, the both of you exchanged letters enough to be called pen pals. It all started when you visited NRC to visit your friend who was in Octavinelle, getting in as an outsider wasn't easy- so you had to sneak in. You were unfortunate enough to run into him while sneaking in, all dressed up in hiking clothing. You were a mountain lover- just like him and you just couldn't help but get distracted. Commenting about his gear and asking him about where he was heading to, though Jade didn't let your questions divert his attention from the fact that you, an outsider, was sneaking into Night Raven College.
He almost exposed you to the school staff if it were not for the 'mushroom lover' badge on his bag and you acting quickly enough to mention a hidden cave you discovered a day ago- ever since that day, the both of you became pen pals and often went hiking together. That was three months ago; you just sent another letter to him about how you wanted to visit his school to finally meet his twin brother and the octopus he keeps on talking about in his letters. You just hoped that he could find a way for you to go in, after all- you did say that you were bringing in a rare specimen of fungi if that ever happened.
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Jade had a small smile on his face as he opened the door to his shared room with Floyd, a letter in hand. Floyd perked up when he heard the doorknob turn, his twin brother having a gleeful expression on his face and his gaze fell on the letter in Jade's gloved hands. "Ne, Jade~ Is that another letter from your mountain buddy? You look really happy~" Floyd asked in his usual carefree tone, he'd been curious about his twin brother's pen pal ever since the very first letter arrived. "Ee, Floyd. It seems like they sent me another letter, fufu~" Jade neatly opened the letter, his hands scrambling to see the contents of the envelope. He unfolded it and skimmed the whole thing first before taking it all in.
His eyes fell on the words 'rare fungi' and he couldn't help but pay more attention to that part more than anything else. Floyd approached Jade from behind, wrapping an arm around his brother's neck to get a closer look at the letter. "Hehe~ What's this? Your little mountain buddy wants to visit NRC and meet me and Azul?" Floyd giggled, suddenly feeling excited about this whole situation. He was curious about this mountain buddy and it seemed like he was about to meet them. After all, Jade was willing to do anything to get his hands on those rare specimens. Letting in a guest into their school was nothing but a menial task to be completed for his mushrooms.
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"Uwah~! So this is what it looks like inside your dorm!" You stared in awe at the aquarium just outside the Mostro Lounge, slowly taking in the sight as Jade guided you inside. You went inside the lounge, the jazz music, and the voices of the customers filling in your sense of hearing. Your eyes darted around, the scent of various dishes overwhelmed you as you walked further into the lounge. You continued to follow Jade, no questions asked, you were too busy taking everything in. Jade simply hummed in delight when he glanced at your awed expression.
Both of you came to a stop in front of a door and your eyes started to sparkle, were you going to meet the others now? You sucked in a breath, hyping yourself up for an energetic greeting. However when Jade opened the door for you, like a gentleman, you suddenly got tackled by someone- making you lose your balance and fall on your back. "Eh~? You're not Jade." You stared at the culprit, he looked exactly like Jade just with droopy eyes and the darker strand of hair was on the other side- opposite to Jade.
Jade chuckled, looking down at the both of you- that little…! Did he know about this? Is that why he let you go in first? The culprit was atop of you, his arms hung loosely around your neck. It seems like he was supposed to give Jade a hug, though you caught it in place of him. The culprit let out a dry sigh, getting off you as Jade helped you up, muttering a small apology for putting you in the spot. Though you doubt that he really meant it, he had that same smile on his face after all.
"Floyd! What did I tell you about doing that?" Another figure emerged from the door, he had purple hair and glasses- shorter than the other two. Floyd just let out a sigh, "Ahh~ I get it, I get it. No need to repeat it the second time." He whined, raising his arm up to sling it around Jade's neck. "Ne, Jade~ who's the little shrimp you got there?" Before Jade could answer his question, the bespectacled man quickly interfered with the conversation- "(Y/N) (L/N), correct? I'm Azul Ashengrotto, Octavinelle's Dorm Leader." He had this suspicious aura around him, something about his smile was off- you knew it deep inside your guts. "I've heard a lot about you from Jade." He added and you glanced at Jade- wondering about how much he's told them about you. You nodded in response to Azul.
"You're correct. That's my name," and you glanced at Floyd who was next to Jade. "and may I know the name of the one who tackled me?" Azul's smile never faltered, "That's Jade's twin brother, Floyd Leech. I'm terribly sorry for what he did earlier, he tends to be quite a handful."
You just smiled reluctantly, "A-Ah! No, it's okay." You felt a pair of eyes scanning you up and down, you turned around to see that it was Floyd- lazily leaning on Jade with an arm wrapped around his neck. You suddenly felt conscious, very conscious and you didn't like it one bit. Floyd was giving off bad vibes and you immediately knew that you should try to avoid him. "Then, shall we go inside for some tea-" Azul's invitation was cut off. "Dorm Leader Azul!" It was a fellow dorm member. Azul raised his eyebrows, signalling the random man to go on. "Th-This is bad! Someone is trying to cause a ruckus at the entrance!"
Azul could only let out a sigh, Jade chuckled while Floyd didn't look even the least interested. "Jade, Floyd. Come with me, let's take care of this matter." Jade put a hand to his chest, "Understood." While Floyd didn't even bother replying properly- "Ehh~ I'm not in the mood." Azul's grip on his cane tightened as he let out another sigh, 'It's one of his mood swings again, oh well.' he thought.
"Very well. Jade, let's handle this by ourselves. Floyd, keep Jade's guest company while we're away." Floyd didn't respond and you were just dumbfounded. Ruckus? You wondered what that might be but- you decided that it wasn't important for the time being. All you know is that you entered the room- that looked like an office, with the person that you just swore to avoid. Life was sure treating you well. You sat down on the velvet couch, not knowing what to do as you watched Floyd plop down across you on the other couch. Well, this was a bit awkward. The silence remained for a few minutes.
"Hey Shrimpy~?" Shrimpy? Was that your new name now? You furrowed your eyebrows in annoyance.
"Excuse me, I have a na-"
"Eh~ whatever. Tell me, what's your relationship with Jade~?"
What was up with this guy!? He cut you off mid-sentence and didn't even bother apologizing. You clenched your fists, trying to keep your smile and keep calm in front of Floyd. Through gritted teeth, "That's none of your business." Floyd stared at you menacingly, you tensed up. He suddenly felt dangerous to you. He stood up from the couch, walking towards you as you suddenly back up- sliding further along the couch as Floyd kept on getting closer. "What do you think you're doing?"
Floyd didn't answer, he just continued walking towards you until he was only inches away from your face. "What did you say to me?" He asked you in a threatening tone- his mismatched eyes looking right towards your own. He took a hold of your wrist, squeezing it tightly and you wince- it hurts. Fear was rising inside of you and you couldn't help but tremble a bit, you didn't answer his question. He squeezed your wrist even tighter, you flinched. Before you could speak up, the door swung open- revealing Azul and Jade. Azul's eyes widened in surprise "Floyd! What do you think you're doing?"
With a click of his tongue, Floyd let go of your wrist and backed away- scratching the back of his head in frustration. Jade kept a straight face, he approached you and gently took a hold of the wrist Floyd took hostage. There was an evident red mark around it- shows how hard Floyd squeezed it. It was painful- yes, painful enough to the brink of tears. It felt like your wrist was about to snap, how was Floyd strong enough to be able to do that? Jade just let out a sigh and stood up to grab the first aid kit placed on a nearby shelf. He went back to you, treating your wrist and wrapping a bandage around it. "I apologize for my brother's behaviour. I shouldn't have left you alone with him." He actually looked regretful, it's rare for him to show such expression. "No, don't apologize. It isn't your fault." You shook your head and averted your gaze to Floyd instead, you lowered your voice and whispered to Jade. "It's him who should be apologizing."
That concluded your first visit.
The second visit was even more of a mess than the last- you thought that Floyd would be still as troublesome as the last time you saw him. However when you opened the door to the VIP room, where Jade told you to meet them, you didn't expect to see Floyd alone. He was leaning against the desk, his hands in his pockets. When he heard the doorknob turn, his head immediately snapped towards the door. He expected you, Jade and Azul cornered him to apologize- and that was he was going to do.
You froze, the unpleasant memories you had with him from the last visit suddenly flooding back. You were very tempted to slam the door just to turn around and run away. However you decided against it- you steeled yourself and entered the room, you didn't sit anywhere and just stood up. You felt like Floyd was going to try something and you were preparing yourself just in case you needed to run away. Floyd took a step closer to you, you took a step back. He took another step closer, and you took another step back- you were having none of this. The cycle continued on for about two more times before Floyd groaned, "Argh! Can't you just stay still for a moment!?" He told you before running towards you- you shrieked and ran away, going in circles around the room. It was a mouse and cat chase, and you definitely did not enjoy it one bit! You let out a painful cry when you suddenly hit your knee against the corner of the couch- you fell down on one knee and was unable to escape Floyd any longer. "Ah~ finally." He had this grin on his face, you could tell that he was about to do something.
He towered over your kneeling figure and you immediately got intimidated- Oh god, what was he going to do now? You didn't really expect his next words. "I'm sorry." He said in a normal tone, his gaze not meeting yours as he placed his hands in his pockets once again. Were you hearing that right? Floyd was apologizing? It shocked you to the core but the apology wasn't unwelcomed- you were willing to forgive him for last time. You were about to, until- "Jade told me to say sorry or else we're having mushrooms for a week." Ah, you should've expected this. Jade forced him to apologize, not surprising but- it's still very disappointing. You rubbed your knee as you stood up wobbly, an unnatural smile plastered on your face. "I see… so Jade forced you to apologize." You clenched your fists tightly in anger, "It seems like we won't be getting along that well, Floyd." You walked towards the door, swinging it open and ran outside- you heard no protests from Floyd.
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"Argh! That stupid Floyd! I knew that we weren't suited well for each other but I didn't know he was going to be this bad!" You cried out, kicking over an empty can of juice you found by the hallway. It rolled all the way to the other side of the courtyard, you jogged over to retrieve it but you gasped when you saw where the can hit. It hit someone's eye, a bruise slowly forming around the victim's eye- he suddenly started to bark out orders to the men who were with him. "Grr-! Find out who did this! We'll make 'em pay for what they did!" The other men around him just grunted in response, taking out their magic pens- ready to attack. You felt your pulse quicken, you quickly hid behind the shrub that was conveniently placed in front of you.
You heard footsteps approach you and you sucked in a breath when someone grabbed your shoulder- "Aha! You're the culprit, aren't ya?" Judging from the colour of his armband- the one who caught you was from Savanaclaw. You didn't say anything and stared at the man, you didn't have your pen with you and you weren't ready to have a fistfight with almost 5 people with no help whatsoever. "Hey, answer me." He poked your shoulder harshly, you still stayed silent. The constant poking suddenly got stronger and stronger until it was a full-on shoving now, you stumbled back- falling on your bottom. You couldn't resist the urge to scream at the man now- "Hey-!!"
"Hey." A voice cut you off, you took a moment to glance at the person who just called out- it was Floyd. He had a smile plastered on his face as he suddenly started stretching his arms, "Don't go bullying poor Shrimpy over there~ Why don't you play with me instead?" The man who caught you froze in place, his expression perfectly capturing the essence of his fear. He scrambled away almost immediately, tripping over himself as he escaped. Floyd clicked his tongue, "Chicken." before helping you up. The man was scared away when Floyd appeared, what was up with that? Did Floyd have a bad reputation or something? If he did, it wouldn't be surprising in the least- not after your unpleasant first encounter with him. "Hey Shrimpy, are you okay?" The concern lacing his voice was surprising, though your thoughts didn't linger on that for too long when you questioned him about why he was here.
"I followed you." In a nonchalant tone, Floyd shrugged. You massage your temples as you tell yourself 'I should've expected this.' Though a huge part of you was thankful for his presence- it was a lifesaver. Had it not been for his actions, you would've probably ended up with a few bruises from the Savanaclaw student. Floyd stared at you, "Why didn't you fight back?" The serious tone of his voice caught you off guard, he was curious- and for once, you answered his question. "Do you think I could handle all of them if I picked a fight?" Sarcasm laced your voice as you dusted off the dirt on your clothes, fixing your hair in the process. "Besides, it's not like I wouldn't fight back. I was just about to explode before you made your grand appearance." You trailed off, aggressively looking away from Floyd as you continued. "Thanks for that, by the way. I appreciate it."
Floyd stared at you for a second or two before bursting into laughter, a smile on his face. You felt your face burn up from embarrassment and you couldn't help but walk away- though Floyd didn't allow you to. He grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you towards him, swinging his arm around your neck- just like how he usually does with Jade. He leaned down to whisper to your ear, "Heh~ you're pretty interesting. I like you~" Before letting you go and going on his own way, leaving you as a flustered mess. You buried your face in your palms as various thoughts haunted your mind- "Ahhh, what does he mean by that?" Perhaps Floyd wasn't so bad after all. You were once again willing to get to know him better.
You composed yourself from your flustered state, fanning your face with your hand as you walked away from the courtyard. It was time for you to go back home- and you already knew deep inside that your next visit wasn't going to be peaceful as well. You did manage to catch the interest of Jade's twin brother after all, and a small part of you didn't really mind and looked forward to it. Ugh, what was wrong with you today?
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Your head was filled with thoughts about Floyd- about what he did and what he said. Hell! He even started sending you letters in the past few weeks, his handwriting looked sloppy but it was still readable. He often talks about how his day goes in his letters and mentions a lot of unknown people to you such as 'goldfish' or 'crab'. Even though you didn't know of the people he's talking about, you enjoyed reading his letters just as much as you enjoy reading Jade's. Though lately, you found yourself looking forward to Floyd's letters more than Jade's- and that already says a lot. Your replies to his letters were often about your day too- and some small comments about his day and some of the questionable actions he did (according to his letter). You could still remember his first letter.
Shrimpy~!
It suddenly became boring here when you left, you should've stayed longer. Ah~ I completely forgot about squeezing you. I'll make sure to do it the next time you come back- speaking of that, hey~ come back soon m'kay? Goldfish shouted at me when I tried to squeeze him and even compared me to Jade, can't I just squeeze him? There's also Crab-kun running away from me again~ it's so funny to see his panicked expression hahahaha!
- Floyd <3
The nonsense contained in his letter and the sloppy handwriting made it hard for you to like it at first, some letters were flat out unreadable while some were really neat and fancy- you guessed that it was depending on his mood. The playfulness seeping through his letters got to you and you found yourself giggling at them, making small comments as you read through his letters. Floyd had a small habit of adding a lot of doodles in his letters- a goldfish, an eel, an emoticon, or whatever. He used it often and it was contagious. You started doodling in your letters more, sometimes adding a bit of colour if you felt creative and honestly, Floyd wasn't such a bad pen pal to have.
The exchange went on for about three or four months until Floyd suddenly mentioned something in his letters- he whined about how he wanted to see you. You were embarrassed, your heart rate going faster by the second and you couldn't help but just let out a muffled squeal. Floyd wanted to see you? Ah-!! You couldn't believe that you developed feelings of attachment and infatuation for him, especially because of your first meeting- it wasn't exactly pleasant. Though love truly is mysterious if you ended up liking him more than just a friend. You quickly wrote a response letter saying how your next visit was in a week or so and even added a small note at the bottom about how you wanted to see him too. It was a bold move, and you really didn't mind it if Floyd gets the message. In fact- you'd be elated if he did. Now visiting NRC was the only thing occupying your mind- you were excited.
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"Jade~! Have you seen Shrimpy's letter? Shrimpy is coming over soon!" Floyd waved the letter in front of Jade's face, looking happier than he ever was this week. Jade just gently pushed the letter away from his face, "I know. Exciting, isn't it?" Jade was excited too, he wasn't just as excited as Floyd was. You mentioned that you found another cave near a mountain and asked Jade out on another mountain date to look for mushrooms. Jade was ready to talk to you for hours and he will do it. Nobody but you shared the same passion he held for mountains and mushrooms, that's why you were special to Jade. "Fufu~"
Floyd seemed to misunderstand a teeny tiny thing about the two of you- ever since your first meeting with him, he hasn't exactly gotten a clear answer as to what kind of relationship you held with Jade. So he just assumed that Jade liked you and you liked him back- he assumed that you were lovers because no one bothered to answer his question. Though after your second visit to NRC, he decided that he didn't care if you liked Jade or not- he was interested in you and he was about to whisk you away from Jade if he wanted to. Floyd didn't particularly care if Jade liked you or not- he was the more selfish one out of the two and it shows. Even if Jade liked you, there was no way in hell that he's just going to be stopped just because of that. This is Floyd we're talking about after all.
Floyd just grumbled under his breath as he lied down on his bed, reading your letter once more before flushing red when he finally saw your small note at the bottom. You wanted to see… him? Floyd couldn't help but grin, suddenly bursting with energy as he rolled on his bed- "Shrimpy is so cute~!"
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Floyd didn't really think this through. He was overcome with jealousy when he saw Jade place a kiss on the back of your hand and how flustered you looked when he did that. He clenched his fist tightly as he walked away from the scene, "Tch." You saw him walk away in the corner of your eyes and you quickly followed suit. You caught up to him and grabbed his shoulder "Hey-" "Let go of me." The venom laced in his voice was strong enough to make you flinch in fear and immediately let go of his shoulder when you saw that look in his eye. It reminded you of your first meeting, he had the very same look in his eyes and that made your heart feel like it was being squeezed.
In anger, you stomped away to the courtyard once again. Why was he acting like that again!? Ugh, you didn't even know what you did wrong so why…? Numerous questions popped up inside your head as you tried your best to stay calm, "Why in the world did I like him in the first place…?" You muttered under your breath, calling yourself an idiot for falling for someone as problematic as him. It's only been a few months, your only source of interaction during those months were letters- you felt like absolute crap. You came all this way and he just got mad at you for unknown reasons.
You sat on a wooden bench placed near a pillar and wallowed in your own sadness as you tried to think of the reason why he got mad- Floyd was unpredictable, it made it even harder for you to pinpoint the exact reason. You were lost in your own thoughts when you felt a tap on your shoulder, jumping at the sudden contact. "Ah-!!" You almost screamed had it not been for the fact that the person covered your mouth with their hand.
You wanted to look at the one who was responsible for this but you couldn't- so you resorted into biting the perp's hand and was shocked when you heard the scream. "FLOYD!?" You wanted to apologize but it was his fault for using such suspicious methods! Could you really be blamed for biting his hand? "Shrimpy you-!" Floyd clutched the hand close to his chest, it was painful to say the least. Instead of lashing out at you, Floyd just let out a tired sigh and said, "Argh, nevermind that. Shrimpy, could you come closer for a second~?" His usual sing-song voice was back when he asked you to come closer- you raised an eyebrow in suspicion but you reluctantly agreed and walked closer.
You let out a small yelp when Floyd suddenly pulled you towards him, crashing his lips against yours. It started out rough, his sharp teeth grazing your lips as you tasted the metallic taste of blood. Good Lord, you didn't expect this- but it wasn't entirely unwelcome. Then the kiss suddenly turned gentle, Floyd calming down and just savouring the feeling of his own lips against yours. You pulled back, gasping as you desperately got oxygen back into your system. Your whole face was hot and dozens of things were flashing in your mind. Though Floyd's next words put an end to them all.
"I don't care if you like Jade, I like you and I'm stealing you away from him if I need to."
Your eyes widened from the shock, everything was slowly sinking in. The kiss, his confession- Hell! You were about to explode. Good riddance, Floyd really thought that there was something between you and Jade. Floyd liked you and that what mattered the most to you right now- you were racking your brain up for a response. "First of all- there's nothing going on between me and your brother. We're just really good friends. And secondly-" You grabbed his tie and pulled on it, making Floyd crane over his neck to look at you at such a small distance away. "I like you too."
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おまけ!
"Wait a minute! So the reason you stormed off was because....?" You tilted your head in confusion as you tried to rack your brain up for the answer. Floyd flushed slightly, ruffling his own hair as he averted his eyes somewhere else. "It's nothing."
361 notes · View notes
isolaradiale · 3 years
Text
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The dark hues of the evening blended to lighter, softer blues of dawn. With every minute, the creatures of the museum began to slow until they stopped altogether, all at once. Whatever they were doing, they dropped it, and began to move their way to the places they had been before the museum took a turn for the lethal.
The artwork climbed back into their frames, stepped onto their pedestals, and walked back into their display cases. A light rain outside washed all the street paint away, color emptying into the drains in the city. Landscapes let their prisoners out, shutting the windows to their world.
Those unlucky enough to earn a spot on the Wall of Shame reappeared in the lobby, their wounds appearing as colorful splashes of paint, and nothing more.
As the oranges and golds of the sun trickled in through the ornate windows of the museum, a blaring voice interrupted the stillness as the intercom museum sparked to life.
"Goooood moooorning, my lovely little visitors! The door to the museum will be opening shortly. Please make your way back to the lobby in an orderly fashion, and be sure to grab all your belongings!"
As Capella promised, the large wooden doors opened once again, releasing all the prisoners of the museum.
"Thanks for visiting the Tempus Museum! Janus, did you want to say any parting words?" "I'm mortified enough as it is, thank you." Came a muffled voice from behind, sounding much less enthused.
"Aww, somebody's cranky... Well, suit yourself!"
As if to add *Extra Enthusiasm*, as everyone exit the doors, they passed by Capella's invulnerable form as she personally waved everyone goodbye, stickers glittering in the morning sunrise. Janus was still sitting at the reception booth, head in his hands and rubbing his temples.
"Bye bye! Goodbye now! Goodbye! Buh-bye! Bye now!" was the chorus that trailed off as she spoke, bidding farewell to the museum's visitors...
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Thank you, everyone, for participating in our recent event: Canvas! As a reminder, you will receive event participation IF:
You've written a starter, thread, mini, or interacted with someone else using the event setting for parts 1, 2, or both.
You've written a 500 word drabble using the setting of the event for parts 1, 2, or both.
You did not have to participate in both parts to receive event credit (so if you only wanted to participate in part 1, it still counts!)
Remember that for participating in the event, you can give yourself 100 stars to use in the marketplace!
A few things have changed as a result of this event, also:
The Tempus Museum has decided to make its home in the Archimedes ward, for now, not far from the Theater of Calliope. Its structure and function is largely the same, but the Optimized Tools won't be there. The artwork won't come to life and attack you, either... during the daytime, that is. You can check out its full description on Archimedes' page!
Janus still takes his place as the museum's curator, and does his best to accommodate guests of the museum. It's not uncommon to see him taking and teaching courses and workshops in the museum, either! He's still polite and eager to help with anything involving the museum and its activities, but if asked questions about the Stars or Spirale, he'll politely explain that he doesn't want to get anyone into trouble. As in the event, on the odd chance that someone is hostile and violent toward him, they'll instantly be killed, and will respawn back in their room.
Thanks again for participating in Canvas! We hope you had a great time!
Frequently Asked Questions:
"Do the things we made turn back to normal?"
Yup! If you didn't destroy it in Part 2 of the event, whatever you made will turn back to normal.
"Will our artwork try to kill us at night?"
Nope! If you took it with you, it's of no danger to you. If you kept it on display at the museum, it's also no danger to you (or anyone else for that matter.) Only the original stock monsters of the museum come to life at night. But unless your muse breaks into the museum, you have nothing to worry about.
The monsters still have their damage invulnerabilities, so unless your muse has a death wish, maybe don't break into the museum without some serious planning. Shady art theft rings will buy your stolen artwork for a hefty price, though, so whether it's worth the risk or not is up to you.
The more often your muse breaks into the museum, the more the monsters will recognize their patterns. Breaking into the museum more than two times is almost impossible, and should be reserved only for the most cunning of thieves.
"What if we made weapons or jewelry? Can we take those back home too?"
Sure! Just know that the weapons will go back to being fragile, and will shatter if used in combat. Any jewelry will look very convincing, but if you try to sell them to anyone, they'll identify it as a fake. Not that they won't buy what you have anyway, but it certainly won't be worth the price of actual precious stones and minerals.
"Can we go back to the museum?"
Yes! It's open to the public from sunrise to sundown, unless there's a nighttime gathering at the museum (which you're free to come up with on your own if you'd like to use it in a setting for a thread.) You could also theoretically break in or sneak in, or hide until the place closes, but you run the risk of running into the guard patrols... or worse.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ (Epilogue)
As the visitors left the building, Capella skipped over to the front desk. Caelum emerged from the darkened corner of the lobby to join her, with the rubber stopper on his cane making soft thumps on the elaborate stone tile.
"Well, that was fun! Thanks for letting us use your museum, Janus." "You're... welcome, I suppose." "Good good! I'll come back here when I make more pieces to show off to the lovely people of our Spirale."
Punctuating this, her hands went up to playfully pat his cheeks.
"Ooookay! Well, until next time! And as for you, Dr. Caelum, I'll see you at this afternoon's meeting or whatever, right?" "Aha, yes I'll be there."
Saluting the both of them, her form vanished into a series of pixels, leaving the other two at the desk. Now that she was gone, the AI turned to give a pointed look at his father.
"...Mmm. Still angry, eh?" Came a chuckle, but the other didn't look so amused.
"You know, at one point, I would have congratulated you for feeling slighted. And I would have celebrated you experiencing such a thing. But you've been around for so long that these things come naturally to you now, don't they? Feelings like being angry... Now I just feel bad when you're upset like any other human."
Another more cheery laugh, and he walked himself over to the doors, motioning the other to follow. With the crowd gone, he could finally step outside and stand on the steps.
"...I am sorry for causing you trouble." "I know." "Good, I'm glad that came across." "I'm still irritated, don't get me wrong." "Yes, yes. I don't doubt it." "And I'm not sure if anyone will come back after such a thing. I wouldn't blame them. I just wanted a place to contribute to this whole thing, and now it's all..."
Sighing, he sat on the first step, watching the rest of the street illuminate in the warm glow of the sunrise. He only realized the old man beside him was trying to sit down when he gave a little huff of effort, and immediately helped his father down beside him.
"Ahh. Much better, thank you." "I could have gotten you a chair..." "Haha, that's alright. If you can sit on the steps, so can I."
For a while, the two sat in silence, watching the streets of Archimedes begin to wake up. Cars stirring, cafes opening, people walking their dogs.
"...Are you doing alright over there?" Janus asked, not turning his head.
"About as well as I can, mmhm." "You still have your migraine medicines down there, right?" "Mmhm. Dr. Lyra has been taking good care of my health, don't worry." "She's the nice one, isn't she? That's a welcome change from the other facility..."
A hand went to the Ai's shoulder, patting it reassuringly.
"Instead of worrying about my health, you should direct that concern inward, Mortimer. You have a place where you can walk around, do all sorts of things humans do. Talk to people, make friends. Play games, read books, paint your lovely canvases. You're not confined to the life we lived three years ago."
Silence followed for a little until the young man leaned against the older one. He must be pushing 70 at this point, right?
"...Are you in a place where you can refer to me by my name? And not that Star code that they made?" "Well, no. Not really. But I don't think anyone's listening. So I don't care~" "Ha! Rebellion got you into this mess, didn't it?" The AI replied with a laugh, earning another from his father.
"Well. Messes that they were, I can still sit with you without you being stuck behind a screen. So even after all the hells we've been through, I'd call that a success. Wouldn't you?"
A smile cracked on his face. They have gone through a lot.
"A success... it's nice to finally call something a success again, father. It's very nice."
17 notes · View notes
cumbercookiebatchs · 3 years
Note
About Marianne helping R get a gift for Enjolras.
Going out didn't take much convincing on her Papa's behalf. For all he knew, Marianne was going out with Amel-Louise, Marianne's best friend since they started maternale all those years ago.
While it was simple, Marianne shoot a quick text to her friend, explaining the plan, in case anything unplanned went down. Marianne knew her Papa trusted her, but that didn't stop him from unexpectedly calling Amel-Louise's maman to either pick her up early or make sure everything was going smoothly.
At 10 AM sharp that Saturday, Marianne was buzzing with anticipation, waiting for the doorbell to ring. She had to calm down before she met Grantaire, she still had a reputation to protect, but imagining her Papa opening the gift and being delighted, had her pretty much excited.
"Wow, eager much?" Her Papa looked up from his book, reading glasses perched on his nose. He looked good, as he always had, but he now had a distinctive glow that appeared after Grantaire came into their lives. Marianne will always be grateful to him for that.
She smirked. "You can have home for yourself. Clean. Read. Call Grantaire..."
Enjolras bit his lip and Marianne dared to say he was even blushing. "He's busy today, had to do some grading."
Marianne barked a laugh, so that's the magnificent lie her teacher came with to avoid meeting with her Papa. The action earned her a raised eyebrow.
"What's so funny, my dear?"
It was not that lying to her Papa was something easy --it wasn't-- but she also wasn't lying completely. "It's just I never thought he would turn down coming home to have sex with you."
"Marianne!"
"It's true, you're home alone, what better chances are?"
Her Papa was blushing as red as the jumper he was wearing, and huffed in annoyance. "Out."
Marianne gasped in mocked offense, "Now you want me to go? You were just complaining I wanted to leave!"
"That was before you were mean!" He pouted, and Marianne wondered if her Papa was really the adult in this scenario.
Her phone beeped with a notification, from Amel-Louise,she would take Marianne to the mall where she'd meet Grantaire to avoid suspicion. "Amel is here." She said before hugging her Papa tightly. "Love you Papa."
"Love you more, little bug." He smiled and kissed her hair. Marianne smiled and waved her Papa goodbye before she got into Amel's Maman's car.
As soon as she closed the door, Amel and her Maman asked some questions and gave some suggestions. Marianne sighed happily she and her Papa had so many people who loved them.
...
After eating lunch and visiting something like ten stores, Grantaire and Marianne parted for the first time in the afternoon. He went around some interesting stores and while browsing, something caught his eye: Marianne was eyeing a white dress with little flowers embroided all along.
"You like it?"
Marianne almost hissed. "You scared me."
Grantaire tilted his head. "I'm sorry, but you didn't answer my question."
"We're here to buy something for Papa."
He did his best to not start laughing. "So avoiding questions runs in the family, huh?"
Marianne looked at him with the same desdain Enjolras would when Grantaire said something that made him angry. He couldn't help the little upward twich his lips made, he wondered if these mannerisms were Enjolras' and Marianne took them on, or if it was the other way around.
"Go try it on."
"But-"
"Go try the dress on Marianne. Or I'll tell your Papa we're here."
He wouldn't do that, and Marianne knew but still she took the dress and tried to look annoyed, even though her eyes smiled thankfully.
She went out the fitting room some minutes after. "You look beautiful." Grantaire smiled, and Marianne blushed slightly.
"Thanks, but I think I'll need this is a bigger size." She motioned at how tightly it fit her, and the skirt was way too short.
"Sure," Grantaire called at one of the girls who worked at the store. "Can we get that dress in a bigger size?
Marianne went back into the fitting room and emerged with her jeans and shirt, the dress im her hands. "You don't need to do this."
"I know," Grantaire hugged her. "but I want to."
The retail worker came back with the dress and smiled at the scene. "Can I say you guys are the cutest father and daughter I've seen."
Grantaire answered by hugging Marianne tighter until she laughed. "Thanks" he said, but if it was for the dress or the compliment, he never said.
...
It was close to six now, and Grantaire decided to treat Marianne for one last thing. They were putting in the car the bags and boxes --of which one had Grantaire's gift for Enjolras, one Marianne's dress, other Marianne's gift for her father, and a smaller box with a more private gift Grantaire would give to his lover; Marianne eyed him weird, but didn't say anything about it-- and as they made their way towards Amel's house, Grantaire made a detour.
"You're not expected home until late, right?"
"Right." Marianne looked up from her phone. "Why?"
"I want to take you to a place."
More silence.
"The lady at the store. She thought you were my dad. Why didn't you correct her?" Marianne said when they stopped at a red light.
"Didn't seem important." Grantaire answered. "Why didn't you correct her?"
Marianne smiled. "I didn't mind being called your daughter."
Grantaire cried a little after he got home, but at the moment, he smiled too.
Even it was raining, they got rather quickly to the Musain, and Grantaire smile grew wider and they approached and he spotted some familiar faces.
He parked the car, and rushed to help Marianne out of the car, then ran together until they reached the Café's door.
Inside, sitting in a table near a window, a man loudly greeted Grantaire.
"And who's the lady?" Asked the man, he was bald and had an big smile.
"I'm Marianne."
She heard someone gasp behind her. Whem she turned around, another man, but with a cane, and a woman with curly hair where there.
"You are Marianne?" He asked.
"Yes." Marianne said, confused.
The woman laughed. "Oh dear, by the way R talks about you I was expecting a baby! Not this lady!"
Marianne blushed, "thanks."
They all sat in the table near the window, and talked. Musichetta told her about how Grantaire doesn't shut up when talking about her or her Papa, and Joly and Bossuet asked her questions about school and what are her plans for the future.
Soon, a waiter came with some milkshakes Musichetta ordered before Grantaire and Marianne arrived.
"Oh my God," she gasped as she took another sip from her milkshake. "Oh my sweet God! You need to bring Papa here."
Grantaire chuckled. "Yeah?"
Marianne nodded as she drank. "He loves candy, sweets, everything. And vanilla milkshakes, with lots of sprinkles."
"Rookie mistake," Joly mentioned.
"What?"
"Now that you mentioned that, everytime someone's drinking a vanilla milkshake Grantaire will sigh with longing because 'that's Enjolras favorite milkshake'"
"Not true." Grantaire tried to salvage his pride, but everyone was already laughing.
"Do you need me to remind you the time that–"
"Oh when we went to the beach and you–"
"Or when you stalked his instagram a week ago–"
"I get it!" Grantaire snaps. "Jesus."
And then everyone started laughing again.
...
"Papa?" Marianne called, closing the front door.
"I'm here," he answered, Marianne walked down the hall and got into her Papa's room. He was sitting cross legged in the bed, reading glasses still on, but he was now in pj's. He looked up from his book and opened his arms. "Come here."
Marianne obliged, kicking out her shoes and climbing on the bed to hug her Papa. She nuzzled in his chest and closed her eyes. He too sighed happily, and kissed her hair. But then he kissed again, and tensed. He sat back and buried his nose on the crook of his daughter's neck, to smell her blouse.
"Papa! You're smelling me?"
"Where were you today, Marianne?" He looked his daughter in the eye.
"At the mall, with Amel."
Enjolras frowned. "You smell weird."
"We tried on different perfumes, some cologne too."
That seemed to call him down, and Marianne smiled tightly. "I'll go leave my things in my room, wanna watch a movie after?"
Her Papa nodded, and Marianne stepped in the shower. When she got out, ready to pick out some cheesy rom com her Papa seemed to love, she went into his room.
He was asleep.
Taking his book and glasses aside, Marianne took the blanket, and covered him.
"Goodnight Papa." She whispered and kissed his forehead.
Yet before turning off the lights, she took her phone and opened the messages app.
Hey
I bet he's dreaming about you :P
Marianne snapped a picture of her sleeping father and hit send, and went to bed.
Grantaire checked the messages, and bit his lip. Sure, he was in love in Enjolras, but he also loved Marianne more each passing day.
(Bonus points if you guess what Enjolras gift is)
Oh this is so sweet! So sweet!!!!!!
But I don't know what Enjolras's present is 🙈🙈🙈🙈
PLEASE TELL ME 🥺🥺🥺
Marianne and Grantaire are SO CUTE together
16 notes · View notes
hellchilde · 3 years
Text
The Thing With Feathers
wow it feels like ten million years since i posted a real fic
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Sòng Lán | Sòng Zǐchēn/Xiǎo Xīngchén, Song Lan | Song Zichen & Xiao Xingchen, Xiao Xingchen & Xue Yang | Xue Chengmei
Characters: Xiao Xingchen, Song Lan | Song Zichen, Xue Yang | Xue Chengmei, Wen Qing
Additional Tags: Disabled Character, Blindness, Blind Xiǎo Xīngchén, Lack of Communication, Established Relationship, brief scene with blood, Recreational Drug Use, (but it's just weed), Alcohol, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Cock Warming, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Reincarnation Vibes
Words: 8970
Summary: Sometimes, all you need to throw your life into sharp focus it to stumble over a dying criminal in the street and let it consume your life.
Or: Xiao Xingchen finds Xue Yang injured alongside the road and the rhythm of the carefully constructed life he has with Song Lan no longer seems entirely stable.
It happens when he's walking home from class.
This time, the reason for Xiao Xingchen's loss of vision is not so noble or meaningful. Sometimes things happen for a reason, but sometimes things just happen and it's shit luck and you have to make due with the cards you're dealt. Sometimes you're too young when your vision deteriorates to nothing, but at least that means you don't have to see their pitying looks in the encroaching darkness. But sometimes, there is a good man who is there for you and can help you pick up the pieces when your life changes too quickly for you to deal with. That is a spot of good luck, because this man is someone you love and could picture a life with, even if it's not the life your parents had intended, or the life you set out to start back when the possibilities were endless. This time, Xiao Xingchen learns the lines of Song Lan's face with his fingertips before his sight is completely gone, and lets him reshape their lives to accommodate this unforeseen obstacle to what could have been a story of happily ever after.
With a white cane in hand and a determined set to his face, Xiao Xingchen walks the increasingly familiar path between home, subway, school, subway, home. Never did he plan on learning a new language in his late twenties, but that language is braille, and he refuses to be totally helpless in a world designed against him. Audiobooks help, but he can't listen to them while he walks, has to stay vigilant with his remaining senses or let himself be pummeled by people who won't see him. Shame the onus has to be on him. So it might be dark, but maybe it's not, when he trips over something and sprawls inelegantly, embarrassingly to the ground. His cheeks and ears are burning, he dropped his cane but finds it quickly. Stupid, stupid, he should have felt it.
He reaches back to feel what he tripped over, and feels fabric, flesh. He gropes his way up, increasingly concerned when the person doesn't move or make a sound, and he smells blood. Then finally he feels the blood, sticky and warm but cooling, and is worried he is feeling a corpse until he feels the chest rise and fall and hears the wheeze of breath. He snatches his hands away, worried, and scrambles for the phone in his pocket. It has a voice-to-text option, and that makes up for the lack of buttons. He's never had to dial 9-1-1, and he thinks his voice on the line to the operator is nervous and panicked. He can't even tell her for certain which street he's on, except that it's five blocks from the campus where he had class.
That must be enough. The EMT's arrive and take stock of the situation, and they reassure him, and when he asks them if he can ride in the ambulance, they agree without too much argument. The ride to the hospital is horrible, though, because he has no idea where he's going or how far away and every turn makes him motion sick. He still doesn't consider leaving behind the man he found. The emergency room is chaotic, but one of the EMT's spares the time to lead him out to the waiting room, and someone eventually gets him some water.
“He's in surgery, and then they'll be admitting him for observation,” one of the staff says to him. He's already given his report to the police, explained his innocent side. He's not a suspect for what appears to be a violent crime, but they took his contact information. Otherwise, Xiao Xingchen doesn't know much. “You don't know him, so … you can go home if you want. I'm sure he would appreciate the kindness of a stranger.”
“Were you able to find an emergency contact?” he asks. So far, he has been the only visitor present.
“No,” the staff says. “Don't worry, the police are looking into it.”
“I would prefer to stay with him,” Xiao Xingchen says, because he does always try to be noble, even without a sword in his hands.
The staff member, maybe a nurse or a receptionist but probably not a doctor, reaches out to touch his hands where they're clasped protectively around his cane. He makes a face because he wouldn't have accepted the touch if asked permission, but at least it's kind. “You're a good man,” the staff member says. “We'll help you to the waiting room near where he'll be resting.”
At some point, someone gives him a sandwich wrapped in plastic and a cup of coffee. The sandwich is ham and soggy, but he eats a little of it, and the coffee tastes old and watery. At some point, Xiao Xingchen sleeps in his chair. At some point, someone informs him that the man made it through surgery and is sleeping. At some point, Xiao Xingchen awakens to the feeling of his phone buzzing in his pocket.
“You didn't come home,” Song Lan's voice says, strained. “I was worried.”
“I'll be home soon,” Xiao Xingchen replies. “I have to make sure he made it through. I'm the one who found him, it's my responsibility.” He doesn't like the hospital, which is cold and antiseptic, and his chair isn't comfortable. He's still going to stay. He has to, even if he has to rely on the kindness of strangers to find the bathroom.
Song Lan sighs, too familiar with this side of him. “Call me to come pick you up,” he says quietly. “The hospital isn't far.”
Xiao Xingchen says goodbye and hangs up and only resents a little that the offer makes him feel helpless. He rubs at his eyes, which feel gritty and sore, and locates the remains of his soggy sandwich to at least get something in his stomach. He listens to the sounds of the hospital around him, beeping machines and ringing phones and quiet voices and people rushing by in non-skid shoes. He seems to be politely ignored, or perhaps forgotten, but he doesn't know how long it's supposed to take until he learns what happened.
At some point, another member of staff approaches him and sits beside him, clearing her throat softly. “I have some news, Mr. Xiao,” she says, accented Mandarin. He tries not to be insulted that they think his English isn't good. “The police have found out the identity of the man you found. Apparently … he's wanted for murder, and some other crimes. He works for some very bad men.”
Xiao Xingchen frowns, the information hard to take in. A criminal? He saved a criminal?
“You did a good thing,” she continues. “They'll bring him in to face justice. They wanted me to thank you.”
He manages to nod, trying not to reveal how shaken he is by the news. Why should it bother him so much? He doesn't know this man and has no connection to him other than finding him mostly dead on his walk to the subway. And yet he still feels betrayed. He did something good, he saved a man, and he turns out to be a criminal. It doesn't feel fair, but so little in his life feels fair.
His intentions have been to stay until the man wakes up and introduce himself, get to know him, but he no longer wants that. Instead he digs out his phone as soon as the nurse leaves and dials Song Lan's number to request a ride and pulls himself to his feet, legs feeling stiff from a long night spent in an uncomfortable chair. He still has that feeling that he should at least peek in on the man that he saved, but then, what's the use in that when he hasn't peeked at anything since his vision gave up on him?
It doesn't take very much help from others to make it down to the front of the building and out the doors – the elevator had braille, and the flow of traffic was relatively logical. He takes a breath of fresh air and stands by the curb to wait for Song Lan, his cane clasped in his hands. He hasn't bothered to ask the time, but by the temperature outside and the birds and the angle of the sun he can feel on his skin, he guesses it's midmorning. He's been out all night. No wonder Song Lan was worried.
He hears the car, and the door opens, and there's Song Lan's voice instructing him to get in. He reaches out to feel the edge of the car door and then climbs inside, settling gratefully into the familiar passenger seat to let Song Lan pull away from the hospital.
“Did he wake up?” Song Lan asks after a few moments of silence.
“I don't know,” Xiao Xingchen replies, collapsing his cane back down to make more room in the footwell for his legs. “They told me they found out who he was. A criminal wanted for murder, with mob connections. I didn't want to stay after that. I'm sure they'll arrest him.” He's still not sure how he feels about that. Bad, bad, like there's rocks in his stomach.
Song Lan thinks about that, his driving much smoother than that of the ambulance, mindful of not taking the turns too quickly. “Well, it's a good thing he's off the streets,” he says at last. “And good that you didn't let him die. It's best that he faces the consequences of what he's done.”
Xiao Xingchen nods and chews on his bottom lip, turning towards the window to feel the sun on his face. He's tired, more tired than before, and he thinks he'll sleep all day even if it'll totally throw off his sleep schedule. He feels depressed, for no reason he can put a finger on. How had he been the one to stumble on that man?
He takes Song Lan's help here and there to get inside, finding it reassuring to always reach out and find him there, and then they are safely behind a door and he finds the bed and collapses into it. When he wakes up again, Song Lan is stretched out beside him, breathing deep and even in sleep. Xiao Xingchen sighs, rolls over, and scoots unobtrusively out of bed to find the cigarettes he has hidden in a corner of the closet in case of emergency. He secludes himself on the fire escape to smoke in peace and rub his temple while he attempts to figure out what he's feeling.
He hasn't figured it out by the time he's finished one cigarette, and he has just enough self control to cut himself off after one, then retreats back inside to at least pretend to do some work.
~
The next time Xiao Xingchen hears about Xue Yang (which is the name of the man he saved, that murderer and mobster and … rapist, for all he knew) he is on the news. He emerges from their bedroom one morning in search of the coffee pot and some breakfast, and Song Lan actually has the TV on, a rare occurrence this early in the morning.
“... released from City Hospital this morning, in custody of the police,” the reporter says. “Xue Yang has known connections with alleged crime lord Wen Ruohan, and charges against him include murder, arson, assault, armed robbery, and fraud. Yang will be facing these charges in a court of law, following investigation into the listed charges, and is currently being kept in custody at an undisclosed location. Yang was found two weeks ago by a civilian on the street following a vicious stabbing, supposedly an attempt on his life carried out by a rival gang. The investigation into Yang's attack is still ongoing with no suspects.”
Xiao Xingchen feels his face fold into a frown, and he steps forward until he finds Song Lan, letting him press a bowl into his hands and starting to eat without really tasting.
“I guess he can walk now,” Song Lan comments with a dry voice.
“What does he look like?” It doesn't matter. Xiao Xingchen still wants to know, to satisfy some perverse curiosity about that evil man he happened to save from bleeding out on the street.
“Like a punk,” Song Lan says. “Like a smug little punk. Like he's going to get away with all of it.” He sets his bowl down and leans in to kiss Xingchen's cheek, running his hand over the other as if he can smooth out the frustration there. “Don't listen to too much of this. I'll be back tonight.” And then he leaves, the sound of his footsteps circling the kitchen island, pausing to pick up his coat and bag, pausing to slip on his shoes, and then the sound of the front door.
Xiao Xingchen takes a few more bites of the food – it's oatmeal, and it's alright, but it's not the way he would have prepared it – and the news is still on in the background, now on to some other story that he cares less about. He puts the bowl down and goes for coffee next, still half the pot left and soy creamer set out nearby. Thoughtful. Song Lan takes care of him.
He doesn't follow the direction. He gets his tablet and sets it up to search for this Wen Ruohan guy. He doesn't keep enough track of the news to have any idea about organized crime, but once his tablet understands what he's asking of it, it pulls up some articles. The text reader's voice renders the shocking events dry and bland, but at least it's something. It makes it sound like Wen Ruohan has fingers in pretty much every bit of crime in the city, maybe further out too. Not surprising that a criminal like Xue Yang would take up with him, do some of his dirty work. The top of the pack never lets that kind of thing touch him. That's why they can't make anything stick when it comes to bringing charges against him. The movies get that much right.
His next search is for Xue Yang himself. Most of what pulls up is the recent stuff about him being in the hospital, the stabbing, the murder charge they want him for this time. Few of the articles he finds come with image descriptions, so if there are pictures, he doesn't know what they are. He can access the public parts of Xue Yang's criminal record. People keep getting his name wrong, calling him “Mr. Yang.” He listens to the text reader list the dates and bare-bones facts of the previous charges. Some of them he had been arrested for, served time. Others seemed to disappear too quickly.
When Song Lan comes home, he is still on the couch, bent over his tablet, hair uncombed and falling over his shoulders and still wearing the loungewear he had put on that morning, which doesn't really count as clothes. He startles when he suddenly feels a hand on his shoulder, too wrapped up in what he had been listening to and thinking about to pay attention to the sound of the door opening or Song Lan saying his name.
“What are you … oh,” Song Lan says, and Xiao Xingchen feels the presence of him reading over his shoulder. “I see you didn't follow my advice.”
“I wanted to know more,” Xiao Xingchen says, feeling oddly defensive. He switches the tablet dark so Song Lan can't read over his shoulder. “Maybe he's a smug punk, but I saved him. I want to know what kind of man I saved.” Why he's weirdly obsessive about this, he still doesn't understand. Why he wants to know more of these dark details. It isn't like it gives him a thrill – well, not a good thrill, that would be kind of sick. It isn't like he's ever even interacted with Xue Yang. Except that he spent a good portion of one day covered in his blood and waiting for him to wake up at the hospital, and for some reason that made it feel like Xue Yang owed him something.
Song Lan sighs so it stirs the hairs on the top of his head, then pets them down again. Not the first time Xiao Xingchen has forgotten to comb his hair, especially on days he stays in. It's a worried kind of touch. “Will you please turn it off for a little while for dinner?”
Xiao Xingchen considers being contrary and refusing, but his stomach rumbles as a reminder that he only broke away long enough to eat some pickles and crackers in a lunch that required minimal effort but could hardly be counted as real food. He submits, then, pulling Song Lan's hand down from his head to kiss his inner wrist. He rises to his feet to follow Song Lan to the table, sits beside him and takes the prepared plate. Song Lan must have guessed some of his mood that morning, because a couple of the dishes are among his favorites from this particular restaurant.
That softens him, and he feels a little bad for considering being contrary or brushing off Song Lan's worry as being patronizing. Guilty, even. Doesn't Song Lan have enough to deal with without his boyfriend being bratty? It's the unfortunate truth of their circumstances that Song Lan shoulders more of the financial responsibilities, more of the housekeeping, more of the cooking. Xiao Xingchen does what he can, and he's gotten to be a pretty fair hand at cooking even without being able to read labels. It's still more for Song Lan.
Xiao Xingchen finishes up his pad see ew, wipes his mouth clean, and gets up to drape himself over Song Lan's lap. His chopsticks clatter lightly on the edge of the plate, and then his hands settle on Xiao Xingchen's waist. Xingchen feels a smile spread over his face, and his hands slide into Song Lan's hair, and he leans in for a kiss.
Being intimate like this has changed. As his sight faded, his other senses sharpened. In some ways it's useful, like being able to so distinctly smell the differences between spices, but his skin is now also more sensitive. Every touch, every brush of lips or teeth, has the potential to be overwhelming. It had caught him off-guard at first, the sheer electricity of it lighting him up more vividly than any lit room. It had been intense enough to scare him, and hence to scare Song Lan, and since then his touches had grown increasingly light and gentle, wary of startling him again. Or perhaps it is that Song Lan is no longer so certain of sharing himself with someone who can no longer see him. He has never been the most touchy-feely person, and Xiao Xingchen wouldn't blame him if the shine of their relationship had faded by now. Occupying that strange liminal space where he was part caretaker, part boyfriend – that can't be easy.
So how can Xiao Xingchen ask for that firmer touch, the way they could get so carried away with each other the way they used to when they were younger and more carefree? What right does he have to demand even more?
He still kisses Song Lan wild and reckless, soft lips and sharp teeth catching at Song Lan's mouth, kissing the flavor of Thai food off his lips. Song Lan sighs against him, hands slipping up under Xiao Xingchen's oversized cardigan and the t-shirt underneath, circling against his waist. There are calluses on his fingers, just rough enough to feel, and at least while they're kissing Song Lan isn't protesting. Xingchen squirms slightly, trying to get his hands to slide down, as if he could wiggle them down. They stay where they are, though Song Lan's grip tightens, starting to dig into his skin.
Xiao Xingchen breaks the kiss to pant softly against Song Lan's lips, only now realizing that he has one hand tangled up in his hair, the other pressed flat against his chest, feeling the steady thud of Song Lan's heart beneath his skin. His own heartbeat feels like it's echoing that beat, knocking up hopefully against his ribs. Maybe this time … maybe this time it would work out. Maybe this time he could somehow convey the kind of attention he was craving, and maybe Song Lan would be amenable to fucking his brains out.
Sure enough, Song Lan shifts his grip, finally down even if it is over his yoga pants, cups his ass and stands up with him clinging koala-style. Xiao Xingchen has no intention of letting go, pressing kisses into Song Lan's jaw, his throat, over his lips, wherever he can reach, his arms settling around Song Lan's strong shoulders and his back arching to press closer against him. This is better, this is closer to what he wants.
Song Lan deposits him on the bed, doesn't drop him, just setting him carefully on the mattress like fine china. But still he crawls over him, whispers kisses into his skin, teeth scraping lightly down his throat. The light touches make Xiao Xingchen gasp and writhe, his skin feeling so oversensitive that he can't even stand still wearing his clothes. Song Lan hovers over him, on his hands and knees, still barely touching him except for the brush of his lips.
“Zichen,” he breathes, needy, eager.
Song Lan pulls back, and Xingchen can just weather the feeling of being watched, breathing and trying not to feel self-conscious beneath the weight of Song Lan's gaze. His fingers are still in Song Lan's hair, twisting and trying to pull him back down. He bears it for a few moments, then stretches up to try and find his lips.
But before he can make it, Song Lan's hand takes his own, unpeeling his fingers from his hair and kissing his palm before pressing his hand to Xingchen's chest and sitting up. The gesture has an air of finality to it, and Xiao Xingchen can't help it, he covers his face with his hands. It's like being blind has erased any ability he had to control his expression, and he can only imagine what his face is doing right now, because it certainly feels all twisted up and hurt and mad and frustrated.
“I'm sorry,” Song Lan says, because he isn't good at reading people but he isn't blind, and he sounds regretful. “I'm sorry, it just wasn't...”
Xiao Xingchen rolls away, taking a moment, then sits up, his back facing Song Lan. “It's fine,” he says, as though merely saying the words will make it so, and he knows his voice sounds too tight. “It's fine,” he repeats. He wishes there was a switch in his body that he could just turn off, rather than having to sit with the coiling warmth still lingering in his stomach, refusing to dissipate just because Song Lan is no longer touching him.
He feels Song Lan touch his hair lightly, then the shift of the mattress as he stands up. The ensuite shower turns on shortly after, and entertains the vindictive thought of forcing his way in and pushing Song Lan up on the shower wall and just...
He doesn't know what. Song Lan had already made his “no” very clear, and Xiao Xingchen has no intention of crossing that particular boundary. He knows there wouldn't be any coming back from that. Taking care of himself feels equally out of the question. It's not what he craves, and doing it alone feels empty.
He goes to clean up after their dinner, finding some comfort in scrubbing off the plates and plunging his hands in the soapy water. It doesn't perfectly redirect his energy, but it takes the edge off. Then he steps out to the fire escape again, retreats, cowardice. The cold, damp wind slaps him in the face, and he takes a lungful of the foggy air, pressing his back into the wrought iron to feel it dig in.
He should tell Song Lan. There are things he should say, explanations, verbalizing his desire and upset and love and frustration. How it feels to be treated as an invalid, even when Song Lan does it so soft and gentle. Song Lan will tell his part too, the part where his desire can't always keep up with Xingchen's and that particular quirk where touching makes his skin crawl, where he treasures Xingchen and wants to protect him by wrapping him up tight in bubble wrap, kept and sweet and placed high on a shelf never to be touched.
He kicks the fire escape, just to make himself feel a little better, and wedges himself in. He should have brought his tablet. He could have done more research. Without it, he just listens to the sounds of the city at night, traffic and ambulances, someone singing, a baby crying in the distance. He lets it all flow and melt around him, lets his body relax into becoming the ambient temperature of the fog, cold and misty and amorphous.
By the time Xiao Xingchen retreats back inside, his thoughts are as cool and calm as the air outside. He slips into bed, fitting into the space behind Song Lan, slotting in, his knees in the crook behind Song Lan's knees, his cold nose tucked against the back of his neck. Song Lan smells clean, and Xingchen feels sorry for earlier, silly for letting himself get carried away. He's happy here. He is happy.
That thought circles his brain as he drifts off to sleep.
~
Time passes. Xiao Xingchen dials back his research to what he thinks is a normal amount of interest. There is always news to follow – Xue Yang seems to be at the same time the media's darling and their favorite villain. The tabloids keep commenting on how he looks, calling him angelic and sweet-faced while at the same time condemning him for what seemed like an ever-increasing number of crimes. Song Lan quickly learns to simply leave him to it, and in return Xingchen can moderate himself so he doesn't lose entire days to sitting on the couch and burying himself in news and police reports.
Life is pretty much normal. There's a routine, a rhythm, comfortable and familiar. Xiao Xingchen further adjusts to life in a world that isn't built to accommodate him, his steps ever more certain on his path. He can visualize his future stretching before him, and none of it looks bad. No surprises, no tragedy. He figures losing his sight is bad enough to fulfill the quota for drama for this lifetime.
Xiao Xingchen listens to the trial when it starts. From what he can tell, this is apparently very fast, but he doesn't know enough about the American justice system to confirm that. There's plenty of media coverage on it, but despite their efforts to highlight the most exciting parts, the trial itself seems to be fairly dull, nothing like the TV shows. That doesn't decrease Xiao Xingchen's interest, but it does help to prevent him from focusing too much on it.
Song Lan has a launch party for work. Xiao Xingchen doesn't know enough about computers to know what it's really for, some piece of software or another, something Song Lan has been working on for months. It's a cause for celebration, and while Xingchen doesn't relish the need to dress up, he lets Song Lan help him with it. Most of his wardrobe is in interchangeable shades of neutral, white and black and gray – he made sure of that before his sight was gone. But it's better to be safe than sorry and accidentally choose something inappropriate or clashing. Anyway, he knows Song Lan quietly enjoys dressing him, making sure he looks nice. It suits the same part of his personality that's so good at the nitty-gritty details of code, a fierce, strict streak of perfectionism.
Xiao Xingchen has no doubt that they make a sharp picture when they arrive. He left his cane at home, since it would be too cumbersome in a party setting, and thus holds Song Lan's arm to navigate their way inside. It's a club, it smells like a club, alcohol and bodies and several layers of perfume and cologne, and there's music playing with a low bassline that reverberates in his ribcage. It's probably dark, which means that people will be asking all night long why he's wearing his dark tinted glasses. Hopefully sticking close against Song Lan's side will decrease the need to explain.
Parties like this are always a little awkward. Xingchen is friendly and willing, but he doesn't speak the same language as these technology prodigies. Maybe he could have wandered and found other partners of Song Lan's coworkers, but he was always wary of losing track of Song Lan in an unfamiliar place. And Song Lan is good, he's considerate, but sometimes he gets so wrapped up in whatever conversation he gets involved in that Xingchen falls by the wayside despite being attached to his arm.
It's still fun and interesting to be out of the apartment, chatting with people, picking canapes off the trays, accepting the drink that Song Lan passes to him. It's one of the fruity ones that he likes, but strong enough that he can taste the alcohol under the juice. He's playing the role of arm candy tonight, but he lets it be fun, lets himself be the sweet and sparkly juxtaposition to Song Lan's dry, serious demeanor. Song Lan's coworkers forgive him easily when he doesn't know the more technical details and humor him by talking about other, more accessible topics.
Inevitably, though, they turn back to talking shop, and Xingchen tries to follow but it all starts to sound like gibberish. He sighs and ceases to pay much attention to the conversation since they're not really paying attention to him, and he sips his drink, wishing the music were better. Though, of course, the inevitable result of sipping a drink all evening is that he has to use the bathroom. Xingchen realizes it with some dismay. There's no good way to bring it up without sounding like a complaining toddler, but he doesn't even know which way to point himself to find it if he were to just wander off. So he just … waits. Song Lan will have to go eventually as well.
Except the situation is steadily growing towards urgent, and Song Lan shows no indication of breaking away from his conversation, focused the way he can get sometime. Xiao Xingchen starts to fidget anxiously, hoping to somehow telepathically convey what he needs. Unfortunately, he doesn't magically develop psychic powers. He's inches from giving in to the embarrassment of asking to be escorted to the bathroom when he feels another hand on his free arm.
“Hi,” a female voice says, one that he doesn't recognize. “Song Lan, do you mind if I borrow him for a minute?”
Xiao Xingchen could curse, and desperately hopes that Song Lan makes up an excuse to keep him from being pulled to another conversation with strangers. He can't focus on being friendly when his body is screaming at him. He feels Song Lan look up in surprise, finally breaking from his own conversation.
“Oh, right, of course,” he says, gently taking Xingchen's hand from his arm to pass him over to the woman. “Xingchen, this is Wen Qing. She's a doctor and a friend.”
“Alright,” Xingchen says, voice cracking, shooting Song Lan what he hopes is a desperate look before Wen Qing tugs him away. He's panicking, he thinks he might die, he wants the earth to swallow him up. He clears his throat and touches Wen Qing's hand, her pace never slowing. “I'm sorry, I'm terribly sorry, but...”
Before he can finish, she pulls him through a doorway. Their footsteps turn echo-y, and he feels a glimmer of hope. She continues pulling, then places his hand on what feels like the handle of a urinal. He makes a sound, desperate still, and feels for the edges of the porcelain before letting go of her entirely so he can relieve himself.
“You looked like you were suffering over there,” she says, only far enough away to give him the space he needs to get the job done. “I know how Song Lan can get too intense in his conversations and forget the world around him.”
“Thank you,” he breathes, shooting a small smile in the direction of her voice. “Unfamiliar places are always a little difficult, especially without my cane. I hope it wasn't too obvious.”
“Not to the tech nerds,” she says, putting her hand on his shoulder to help lead him over to the sinks after he gets his slacks fastened up. “They might be geniuses, but they're oblivious to any kind of subtlety. Feeling better?”
“Yes, thank you,” Xiao Xingchen says again, washing his hands and then relaxing a hip against the sink. He isn't in a rush to go back out to the music he doesn't like. “So you're a doctor?”
“Cardiac surgeon,” Wen Qing clarifies. “I normally don't get to see below the belt. But don't worry, I'll remain professional.” It sounds like she's smiling too. Xingchen isn't surprised to find that she's friends with Song Lan, with that dry kind of humor.
“I wasn't too worried about it,” Xingchen says. “Do you come to a lot of these things?”
“A few. I was dating one of them for a while, made some friends. They keep inviting me, and the appetizers are good, and every once in a while I get to help somebody's poor boyfriend find the bathroom.” He feels her pull his jacket straight, adjusting his collar slightly. “So. Been together long?”
“Since college,” Xingchen tells her. Maybe she isn't very close with Song Lan, to have not heard the story before. “Actually, we met in the airport when I arrived in America. I was so lost and overwhelmed, and he stepped in to help me find my way in a new country and a big city. It was just a happy coincidence that we ended up going to the same school while he was getting his graduate degree. And then from there, it's basically just history.”
Wen Qing laughs and touches his shoulder again. “Somehow, I doubt it's 'just history,' but we can leave it at that, if you want,” she says. “That's very sweet. I'm just glad you look as lost by all their talk as I am. Do you smoke?”
“Ah...” He doesn't want to lie, but also isn't sure about how likely it is his answer would get back around to Song Lan.
“Doesn't matter,” she says quickly, taking his arm again to lead him out. “Come hang out with the wives. We're all the wives, regardless of gender.”
Together, they wind through the party, past snippets of conversation and a speaker rolling out bassline in waves. Wen Qing pulls him out of a door, and the sound of music is dampened. A comforting cloud of cigarette smoke wafts around them, and there's a soft hum of conversation.
“Hey, wives,” Wen Qing crows. “I bring fresh blood.”
“One of us,” someone chants, and Xiao Xingchen grins and gives an irreverent salute.
The wives are apparently the company he was craving. He no longer has to pretend to understand or be interested in the technobabble, and instead he can pluck crackers smothered in cream cheese and prosciutto off of the platter that they stole from the catering staff and sip from the bottle of wine that they had also stolen. He can listen to one of them chatter about a thesis project on Emily Dickinson and steal drags from cigarettes and blunts passed to him. It's closer to the way he and Song Lan operated in college, parting for their own friend groups before drifting back together, and the wives are closer to the kind of people he would choose for friends, free to be bohemian while their significant others take advantage of the tech boom and bring home the bacon.
Xiao Xingchen hasn't bothered to check the time on his phone, but it feels late by the quality of the air and the conversation. They've stopped talking about anything of substance, and he's leaning on Wen Qing's shoulder. He's a little drunk and a little high and feeling soft and easy. Song Lan's touch doesn't even startle him when it comes to rest on his shoulder.
“Let's go home,” he suggests in a low murmur, and Xingchen peels himself up. The wives moan and complain, and someone reaches for him, fingers catching on the edge of his jacket with a soft cry of, “Chen-chen, don't leave us!”
Xiao Xingchen gives his goodbyes and makes his promises to stay in touch – his phone is full of their phone numbers. He leans on Song Lan to make their way out and down to meet their car. They slide into the back seat, and their hands find each other on the seat, fingers folding together in the most intimate touch Song Lan would allow in public.
“Time's it?” Xiao Xingchen asks, sleepy and smiley and soft.
“Close to one,” Song Lan replies. He sounds a little drunk too, and his thumb runs over the space between Xingchen's thumb and index finger, fitting into the hollow. “Did you have fun?”
“Mmm,” he hums and smiles more. “They were nice. Wen Qing was helpful, and you know how useless I am when you talk shop.”
“I should have known you'd get along with them. I should have introduced you earlier. I'm sorry you were bored with me.” He snorts softly. “Chen-chen.”
Xiao Xingchen's giggle is significantly less dignified, but at least it's not too loud out of consideration for their poor driver. “You know I can't help if they think I'm cute!”
Song Lan doesn't protest, but he doesn't have to. They're back home, and he thanks the driver, and comes around to help Xingchen out of the car and back into their building. They're quiet due to the late hour, so the sound of the keys feels like it echoes in the still night air. Xiao Xingchen lets himself inside with a sigh of relief and kicks his shoes off, and opens his mouth to suggest they go to bed only to have Song Lan's lips and teeth and tongue providing an effective gag.
Song Lan backs him against the wall in the entryway, and his hands span Xingchen's waist, broad and solid. Xingchen can taste the alcohol in his breath, but he probably tastes the same. His head spins, his stomach flips, feeling simultaneously over- and under-fed on those canapes, but thrilled with possibility. The kiss is rough, with teeth, not like delicate good morning kisses or gentle good night ones that he's gotten used to. This kiss demands, and expects him to answer – and so he does.
Xiao Xingchen moans into it and grips back at Song Lan's shirt, returning the kiss with equal fervor. Sleep is no longer on his mind. Instead, he has to get his hands on Song Lan's skin or he might just evaporate. He tugs until he can get Song Lan's shirt out of his slacks and he can slide his hands underneath, flat against the skin of his stomach. His skin is warm, solid, and he can feel the frantic rate of his breathing beneath his touch. It feels like a dream, like it's so much that it can't be real, and at the same time it's so real, so perfect, everything he wants.
It feels like Song Lan needs this as badly as he does. With hands tight around Xingchen's arms he pulls him away from the wall, further into the apartment. Xiao Xingchen assumes they'll go to the bedroom, to the bed as usual, but he finds himself bent forward over the couch instead, the familiar fabric under his fingers and the back digging into his stomach. Song Lan presses against him, rubs against his ass, pushes his shirt up and runs his hands over his back. Xiao Xingchen lets out a shaky breath and pushes back against him, just as demanding and desperate.
Finally, finally Song Lan reaches around to get his slacks unfastened, pushes at them impatiently, and locates the zipper to shove it down. Xiao Xingchen squirms to help get them down his legs and winds up with them stuck around his knees, but at least it's some relief. Song Lan seems to think that's enough; his fingers grip into the flesh of Xingchen's ass, squeezing and massaging and spreading. He pants into the couch cushions, his breath coming back hot and wet against his cheeks and the sensitive tip of his cock bumping up against the back of the couch in a way that isn't altogether pleasant but at least it is some sensation. He's hard, he needs it, his skin feels like it's sparking with heat at every brush of Song Lan's fingers.
He remembers with some despair that they don't have any lube in the living room and is just about ready to straighten up, drag Song Lan back to the bedroom so they can do it properly. Then he hears something tear and feels slick fingers slide against his ass. Song Lan came prepared. Such a good, thoughtful boyfriend, even if it is frankly out of character for him to anticipate sex like this. When it happens, if it happens, there's so much delicate kissing and foreplay and it's consistently in the bed or the shower where they're prepared. But he can't even speculate on it, Song Lan's fingers feel too good, pushing the lube inside him fast, impatient. He wants to spread his legs but he's trapped by his slacks and can only pant helplessly against the couch cushions.
Thoughtfully, Song Lan's clean hand reaches down to brush his hair out of his face, tracing the line of his jaw. The fingers inside him spread once more, then slide out, and that's all the warning he really gets before he feels Song Lan's cock press steady and inexorable inside him.
The sound he lets out would be embarrassing under any other circumstance, low and broken and wet. It's been long enough that he almost can't handle the stretch. It's almost too much and makes him choke. His knees feel weak. His spit is making a wet spot on the couch cushions. Song Lan still doesn't stop, not until his hips are pressed flush against Xingchen's ass. His breath is coming heavy now, ragged. He's thoughtful again when he pauses to let then both get used to it, his hands resting on Xingchen's hips, one of them tacky with drying lube, and he pets soothingly at one hipbone like Xingchen is a skittish horse.
Like that, Xiao Xingchen remembers that he's supposed to breathe, and he takes a deep, shaking breath before letting it out loudly, and he can feel it relax down his spine. Song Lan pets him again, approvingly, then eases out of him only to slam back inside. Xiao Xingchen chokes on another cry, and that seems to encourage him, the pace rough and quick.
Time ceases to exist. Xingchen can't see, obviously, but the pleasure feels like starbursts of color in his mind. The apartment is very quiet, except for the wet slap of skin and too much lube (Song Lan was always careful like that) and their labored breathing, punctuated with moans and whimpers punched out of Xingchen's throat. It is so rough, he knows he is going to be sore, aching and remembering this for days. But it's so good too, Song Lan's cock stretching him and hollowing him out, making a space inside him. He's so hard it hurts, and his own cock is leaking. Song Lan's hand reaches down to cup it protectively, preventing it from smearing over the back of the couch. The pressure is maddening without friction to go with it, and Xingchen sobs out his pleasure, trembling and pushing back on him.
When he cums it's a punch to the gut, fingers white-knuckled against the couch cushions and a cry ripping out of his throat. His heart feels like it's hammering so hard that all he can hear for a few moments is the whoosh-whoosh of his heartbeat. But he realizes quickly that Song Lan has felt it. He drapes himself over Xingchen's back, fucking him hard and fast, racing towards the end. It must crash into him too, because he grunts and transforms into a heavy, shuddering weight, pressing him into the couch, his cock twitching inside.
Time still doesn't really exist. They might stay draped over that couch for hours, for all Xingchen can tell. His ass is sore, he can barely breathe, he's going to have bruises where the couch is digging into his midsection, and he feels like he hasn't been this happy in months. It's not just the sex – though, to be fair, the sex is amazing and a big part of it. It's what comes with the sex. He feels connected to Song Lan like this, special, needed. And then, taken care of, because eventually Song Lan straightens up and helps him up, drops down to help him work off his shoes and slacks so they can walk back to the bedroom. His arm supports Xingchen around the waist because he's for surewalking with a limp right now. He helps him get his shirt off and brushes his hair back over his shoulder and kisses his cheek, so sweet.
Xiao Xingchen makes to go to the bathroom. He still smells like smoke and wine and sex, and Song Lan won't want that in their bed. But before he can pull away, Song Lan pulls him back in close, nuzzles his hair and kisses him again in a way that makes his heart feel soft and warm, honey in his chest. He lets Song Lan lead him to bed, even though he has the distinct sensation of cum slowly starting to leak out of his body.
“Here, keep it in,” Song Lan rumbles low, curling up behind him and pressing his fingers into Xingchen, pressing it back inside. Xingchen sucks in a breath, his body feeling oversensitive and raw but good. It's not too much. Then there are some sounds behind him, and then he feels Song Lan's cock press into him again. That is almost too much, and he makes a small sound, not sure if he could handle a second round.
But it's not to fuck him. Song Lan settles, their bodies pressed close, fitting perfectly. Song Lan's nose presses into his shoulder, and he kisses there a few times. Without too much preamble, they fall asleep.
~
The next morning, of course, they are stuck together. It's a little disgusting, but there isn't a thing that Xiao Xingchen would have changed about the night before. He stirs a little, then makes a sound of complaint, his body protesting the movement from the waist down. Song Lan wakes up next, and Xingchen can practically hear his grimace when he remembers the position they were stuck in.
He's as careful as he can manage when he pulls away from Xingchen's body, pressing a gentle hand to his arm to indicate he should stay still. There are some bathroom sounds, water running, and then Song Lan returns with a warm, wet washcloth to gently wipe him clean. Xingchen has to bite his knuckle; his ass feels raw, sore and swollen. He can feel precisely how hard they went. He still doesn't regret a moment.
Song Lan treats him soft and sweet that morning, brings him breakfast in bed and combs his hair. They're both quiet, Xingchen because he's hesitant to say anything that will break the spell, and Song Lan because he seems exhausted from socializing so much the day before. Sometimes it's harder than others. Then to recuperate, he's quieter than usual, minimizing his interactions, sometimes even with Xingchen himself. Xingchen doesn't take it personally, and usually uses the time to indulge his own inner introvert and work on his own projects.
Nothing wrong with that, except that they continue to not talk about it. Xingchen can't make the shape of his desire into words, the way Song Lan's touch lights him up, the way he craves the desperate way they came together after the launch party. Song Lan's touches feel apologetic, half guilty, wary of pushing too far, like he's afraid of his own attraction. They haven't had to navigate anything like this before, where before they were coasting on instinct and now the waters feel choppy.
Xiao Xingchen finds it a welcome distraction to turn to the trial. There's no shortage of material – Xue Yang continues to be the media's darling or scapegoat by turns, sometimes both in the same article. He figures out how to find the best news channel to listen to what he can, certain amounts of testimony from witnesses and arguments from lawyers. He thinks its a small blessing that he himself was such a useless witness when it came to the stabbing incident, so he hasn't been called to court. In any case, that's how he first hears Xue Yang's voice, surprisingly young, always irreverent and teasing, even when he's supposed to be taking the court show seriously.
And it really does seem like a show. The prosecution is fighting as best they can, but the defense is barely working at all, their questions lazy and confident at the same time. The judge doesn't seem in any kind of hurry to help the prosecution when the defense steps out of line. Everything is played to the media like a huge circus, and everyone is marching towards a foregone conclusion.
Then, as quickly as it started, it's over. The media coverage disappears overnight. It's not old enough to be old news, but that's how it's treated. Xiao Xingchen has to search and search to find anything about the conclusion, and all he can find is basically a footnote stating that a settlement was reached, which sounds frankly preposterous. The charges against Xue Yang included murder! He hadn't thought it was possible that a settlement could be found against a potential murderer, especially when the prosecution had brought witnesses and evidence galore. It feels profoundly unfair, a sincere lack of justice, and he wonders how natural-born Americans feel about their supposed “justice system.”
His dissatisfaction with the finale of the trial makes it hard to put it all behind him. He struggles with sleeping and focusing on his projects and his studies, he's snappish and short-tempered and withdrawn from Song Lan. Even if Song Lan asked what is troubling him, he has no confidence that he could articulate it to any understandable degree. So Song Lan can't help, and Xiao Xingchen doesn't know how to help himself.
It's on a random day when Xingchen hears a knock on the door. That's unusual – Song Lan left for work, but he would have texted if he forgot his keys, and Xingchen doesn't think they're expecting any deliveries. He debates just leaving it, pretending he's not home, but the knock comes again, more insistent.
Heaving a big sigh, he picks himself up from where he had been lounging, attempting to read and feel somewhat productive but mostly just feeling listless. It crosses his mind that Song Lan might have gotten it in his head to do some kind of gesture, getting him flowers or something – not that flowers aren't thoughtful, but he thinks the gesture is now lost on him since he can't see them. He doesn't think he brushed his hair this morning, but this delivery man will just have to tolerate him looking a little messy. He finds the door and opens it, trying to put a pleasant expression on his face.
“Hello, can I help you?” he asks, and waits for a response.
None comes. He waits a few moments, then frowns. Was something dropped off? He considers bending to check for a box, but there's a feeling rising, a prickling feeling on the back of his neck that tells him he's being watched. But if there's someone there, why aren't they speaking? Why aren't they telling him why they're there? Belatedly, he realizes this might be some kind of burglar who could take advantage of him. He doesn't have a weapon, but there's an umbrella in the stand next to the door and knives in the kitchen, and though it's been years he still has his martial arts training. How much that will help, he doesn't know, he hasn't even attempted to fight anyone even to spar since he lost his sight, and he doesn't think running through the exercises and stretches in the morning will really help if someone actually attacks him.
Whoever is at the door still hasn't spoken, and it's making his nerves go haywire, his heart pounding even though he hasn't even moved. Maybe he's being stupid and getting freaked out over nothing. Maybe there's no one even there, and there's no reason for his skin to feel nervous cold/hot. “Hello?” he says again, this time significantly less confident, his voice giving out halfway through.
There's another few moments of silence, then a wild cackle, not an attractive laugh at all. It feels familiar, somehow, though it's not until Xue Yang speaks that Xiao Xingchen recognizes him.
“Wow. I guess you're real, huh?”
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nerdpiggy · 4 years
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Tell us about your ocs!! I'm genuinely curios bc of the tags
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[ID: Meme of Hatsune Miku smiling. Top text reads "Thanks for sending me a message". Bottom text reads "You're very cute and I will be replying to you".]
Robin "Robbie" Fuller: The character i play in a DND campaign.
they/them pronouns. they're nonbinary and asexual and don't care to label their romantic attraction.
They're 22 years old and 5'9" (175cm)
Their birthday is November 12th. they're a scorpio
They started off as a Mundane MOTW character and they're now a level 7 warlock in DND. They're a human
They live in a small coastal town in massachusetts called Holyoak and they go to the local college to learn culinary. They live in a single dorm and they have a cute widdle black cat named Chickadee
One day (for various reasons) their life was flip-turned upside down with discovering the existence of monsters, portals, different dimensions, and rifts in spacetime
One of the reasons for them discovering all of this was them meeting a man named Thomas who's a human from a different dimension called the Palisades. He's a well-known Judge over there. (Thomas is @bevtastic 's character)
Robbie gets an offer to join the Interdimensional Defence Agency (IDA), says fuck it and accepts, and Robbie and Thomas stay friends by virtue of their similar jobs.
Robbie is tasked to go to a different dimension (A half-medieval half-wild west desert town called Argyle) to stop a threat that was growing there. Threat turned out to be a massive mind-controlling dragon who wanted revenge for the rest of her dragon species that were killed off by medieval "heroes". Robbie was not cut out for this as their first job. They (with help) subdue the dragon eventually but not before she burned down multiple towns including Argyle to a crisp. Robbie feels very bad about this.
Robbie, Thomas, and the rest of the party receive a mysterious letter leading them to an old abandoned mansion in Holyoak and get roped into a rescue mission to save Thomas's old friend Percy who has apparently been bodysnatched by a bad guy and trapped somewhere for what felt like thousands of years. This is the arc where we switched from Monster of the Week to DND, and Robbie gets connected to a nature deity Adelaide through a purple necklace. They also get a familiar, who is an owl with pitch-black feathers and glowing yellow pupilless eyes that Robbie named Mr. Muffins.
Robbie and Thomas become very good friends :)
Thomas dies.
Robbie goes to the Palisades to find out what happened to him. Turns out he wanted to reveal the secret of interdimensional travel to the public and work to make it open, free, and safe. The people in charge did not allow him to do this by legal means so he aimed to do it illegally, which was when he was murdered by a group of bandits.
On top of that, one of the main reasons why he wanted to reveal the different dimensions is because there is a HUGE interdimensional threat coming our way, and we need to act on it if we want to live.
Percy finds Robbie and asks them to help with this threat, who apparently is a singular person named Siris that has been locked in a prison for thousands of years and somehow got out. Robbie doesn't have much of a choice and accepts.
In the Palisades, there are monsters called Behemoths. they emerge from people who get bitten by a behemoth or who touch the black tar-like substance that runs like rivers in certain areas of the Palisades. During a battle, Robbie gets bitten by a Behemoth, and now they're a candidate for Behemism (aka turning into big giant monster syndrome).
Because Robbie has Behemism and Siris is part of the reason for Behemism existing, they're mind roommates now. Robbie and Siris do not get along very well.
There's more to Robbie but this is their main backstory!!!
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[ID: a drawing of Robbie holding a chrysanthemum. They have short pink curly hair, and they're wearing a yellow floral button-up and a purple necklace. They have bandages on their freckled face and they're looking down at the chrysanthemum with a neutral expression.]
Emile Azarel: A character i play in a different campaign that does MOTW.
He/him pronouns, he's trans, demisexual, and demiromantic.
He's 19 and he's 5'3
He doesn't know his actual birthday but the day he celebrates is January 23rd
His MOTW class is The Expert. He's a fire genasi
He was born in central Russia but he doesn't know his parents well because when he was ~8 months old there was a big monster attack that unfortunately killed his parents. A monster hunter named Avery Azarel found Emile, took him in and raised him.
Emile learned to hunt monsters with Avery and the two traveled around together as monster hunters.
Eventually Emile wished to have a solid place to live rather than constantly traveling, because he wanted friends. He found a town in the pacific northwest called Salmon Peak that had everything he wanted: Russian culture, a fairly small easy-to-get-around layout, and some very weird mysteries going on. (Just because Emile wanted to settle didnt mean he wanted to stop monster hunting!)
He moved to Salmon Peak and has met a bunch of new friends! He's also learning more and more about the town, which is turning out to be somehow even weirder than he expected.
Emile is a very sweet, polite boy, but considering the fact that he's only ever been around one person mainly for his entire life, he has a bit of a ways to go when it comes to interacting with people. The monster hunting life means that when there's a monster, you kill it and that usually solves all your problems. Emile has transferred this logic to people as well (if they're a monster, kill em!) and he's learning through friend influence that maybe human lives are a bit more sacred than that.
His favorite color is blue because he loves the sky!
A lot of people underestimate his skills because he's little and looks very young, but he is a very good monster hunter. Because of Avery (the best monster hunter in the biz), his last name has a bit of a reputation.
Emile is blind, autistic, and has vitiligo!
I have much more planned for Emile but I can't say it here because it is MAJOR spoilers!
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[ID: a drawing of Emile walking forward. He is wearing a blue shirt with stars on it, blue jeans, a fluffy white jacket, a belt with a star on it, star earrings, a moon necklace, and black shoes. His blue hair is swaying behind him and he's holding a white cane with a red tip. He's smiling slightly.]
Avery Azarel: Emile's parent! I've not played them as a character yet but I've made a character sheet for them.
they/them pronouns. They're agender, aromantic, and pansexual
their age is (???) and their height is 5'7
they have a birthday but nobody knows when it is
Their MOTW class is The Chosen. they appear human
They're widely considered the best monster hunter in the biz. Their name is well-known and they're requested for help all around the world
Because of this, they're constantly traveling and having a house would not make sense. They just pack their things, stay at motels/hotels/etc., camp in the woods and move around to wherever people need them.
Since they've been pretty much everywhere, they always seem to know at least one person from each town. They never seem to get too close to anyone, though
They are fluent in many different languages!
In the past they were paired up with another monster hunter and they made a great duo. That was a couple decades ago; they go solo now.
Years ago, an unexpected and incredibly destructive monster rampaged a small town in Central Russia. Avery came as fast as they could (they were nearby in the area) but they still couldn't finish off the beast before it tore the whole town to shreds. Dozens of homes were crushed, but surprisingly most people survived, with the exception of a couple of people who died under the rubble. Avery felt awful (this was their biggest failure in a while), and as they were searching through the rubble for any more casualties they found little baby Emile, miraculously unscathed. They took him in and raised him from then on.
Nobody, not even Emile, knows very many details about Avery's childhood, their family, their age, or really any information about them. (Emile has been trying to figure out Avery's birthday for AGES so they can celebrate, but Avery has refused to budge)
Their main weapon is 2 pairs of bolas! those are those chains with 2 balls on either end, usually made to be thrown at people's legs to restrain and trip them. they use the bolas both as restraining tools and as their main weapon, because i think weapons where you spin them really fast in front of you are cool
There's a scar over their left eye; whenever someone asks how they got it they always spin a different elaborate tale of an epic monster battle. Nobody knows which (if any) is the true story
there is a WHOLE LOT that I am leaving out if you couldn't tell. There's a huge chunk of their past that I'm leaving out because it's all a big bundle of spoilers. Someday I will be able to elaborate more on Avery!
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[ID: a picrew made by djarn of Avery. They're smiling, their head is tilted slightly, and there's a scar over their left eye. Their hair is tied half-up half-down. They're wearing a black shirt with "òwó" on it and a blue jacket with an aromantic flag pin and a pansexual flag pin. the background is an agender flag.]
These are my main OC's! I have more (Orion, Nottwyrm, "Noodlearms", etc.) but these 3 are the main ones that I post about. :3 thank u for asking!!!
If you have any questions about any of my characters I always welcome asks!!! 💖
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lovemalecforever · 3 years
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Chapter 7
When Sizzy meets Alec
It's been a few hours since Alec told Izzy about everything, and he was relieved that she was by his side. A few years back, he didn't use to tell her his personal life but was glad that she always understood and was proud of how she grew over the course of years.
A knock broke him out of the chain of thoughts, with a quick reflex he picked up a file and threw the book inside the drawer, but a familiar laugh made him turn towards the door then sighed with relief.
"Seriously, Izzy? Since when you started kn-" he stopped mid-sentence when he saw Simon beside her. "Oh! That makes sense! Coz my family and knocking!" He rolled his eyes, earning a deadly glare from Izzy.
Simon tried not to laugh but failed miserably, earning a kick on his shin from his girlfriend. "Ow! Babe! Hi Alec." He said while rubbing the spot.
"Hey..." Alec said in a flat voice then turned towards Izzy. "please don't tell me you told him everything?"
"Sorry Alec, but I did. And as a matter of fact, we're here to help." She said excitedly.
"Help!?" He eyed the vampire from head to toe making him visibly shiver.
"Ah... Ya... I'm... first things first, I'm happy for you both, happy anniversary in advance and I would like to help in whatever way I can, Alec." Simon tried to give a friendly smile but gulped when Alec kept staring at him. Noticing, Izzy intertwined their hands, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
"Si, why are you always scared of my brother? He's not going to eat you. And why are you looking at my boyfriend like that Alec?" She said in a fierce tone.
"I'm not looking at anyone in anyways, Isabelle! Can you both come to the point now!?" He exclaimed.
"Seriously Alec, is it because I told him everything?"
"Izzy! If it wasn't clear, I wasn't planning on telling it, you found out. And I have told you... I was waiting for the correct time. So yes, excuse me if I'm frustrated about you telling all this to this vampire here."
"Alec, big brother, he's my boyfriend, will you like it if I talk about Magnus like that?" Alec was about to say something when Simon interrupted.
"Hey! Hey! I'm standing right here. Izzy, calm down, please. And Alec, she didn't tell me, she was asking me the details about the bookshop. I got curious, so I asked her what's all that was about, that's when she told me about your research, about becoming immortal."
Alec rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry, Simon, sorry Izzy. It's just... I don't know about the complete spell yet, I want to tell everyone once I'll know about it. You, Clary, and Luke are my family too, I respect you all. I hate admitting it... but I do. Your opinions matter to me as well."
"Alec, I know, and I completely understand your point," Simon spoke, "everything has to be done at a specific time. And I'm happy for you and Magnus, I really am. actually, that makes me remember when you asked me to turn you into a vampire to save him from Edom. You really can go to any extent for him... it's inspiring... your love for each other... you guys are idols for others-"
"You literally can't stop talking, can you?" Alec raised his brow.
"Nopppe!" Simon gave an innocent smile and a second later, both men burst into laughter.
Izzy simply shook her head, she should have known better. The bonding between her brothers and Simon has grown a lot in all these years. He is still scared of Alec, but they have started joking around almost every time, and she's happy with the progress.
"Thank you, Simon, for your support and also for loving my sister." Alec said with all honesty, "and... I'm sorry Izzy for reacting like that. It's just....-"
"It's okay, big brother," Izzy said softly.
Alec sighed. "Thank you. Now, what was about the bookshop you people mentioned ?"
"Simon went to a mundane bookshop in New York a few days back which had a collection of mythology books. We think there can be something in them that can help your research." Izzy said excitedly.
"How can you be sure about that?" Alec asked, confused.
"Because I saw a book which had mention of Cane, his mark and possibilities and theories of him still existing. One of them was becoming a vampire which is actually true, so it can be possible to find whatever you're looking for in your research. Besides, it's not just one book, half of the bookshop is filled with these kinds of books." Simon said enthusiastically.
"Why are these books out in the mundane world!?" Alec questioned.
"Because mundane are curious creatures, big brother!" Izzy shrugged.
"Hey! I was mundane too if you remember..." Simon tried to speak in a fake hurt tone.
"Oh, come on, Si, You know what I meant." Izzy leaned in to give him an eskimo kiss but when Simon's hand snaked around her waist, she brushed their lips gently, then locked them in a kiss full of passion and love.
Alec cleared his throat, eyes trailing anywhere but at the couple.
"Really, big brother! You and Magnus do the same literally all the time," Izzy said after they broke the kiss.
"You people enjoy the show, but I'm not enjoying watching yours. Can we get back to the point!?"
Izzy opened her mouth to say something but then changed her mind. "We need to check that bookshop, so we'll be needing a portal to go to New York."
"I'll let Cat know about it. And what do you mean by 'we'?"
"We meant all three of us, we're helping you. And I meant Magnus."
"What!? Magnus!? Seriously Izzy, are you out of your mind!? What are you going to tell him why am I leaving for New York all of a sudden!?"
"I'll handle everything, big brother. And it's not just you who's concerned about him, since the time we're here we haven't met him at all."
Alec shook his head. "Finee! And Izzy, Look I appreciate your help bu-"
"I'm not asking I'm telling!" She said fiercely.
He looked at Simon who just simply shrugged and smiled. Defeated, he took out his phone and messaged Magnus but got no reply. Worried, he called him repeatedly, but the result was the same.
"He's not replying Izzy! Might be busy with his clients. Look, can we please call Cat!? I don't want to take any chances, and you can meet him whenever you want, Miss Head of the Institute!"
Izzy slapped his arms playfully. "Fine big brother!"
"Thank you! I'll inform Cat!" 'and let Magnus know I'll be late again.' he thought.
***************
Magnus was sitting on the couch, watching his favorite show Project Runway, sipping on the hot coffee, but he wasn't paying attention to the show; his mind was somewhere else entirely.
********* "ALEXANDER!"
Magnus was crying uncontrollably, shaking Alec again and again, but he wasn't moving at all. "No! HELP!"
"MAGNUS!" A voice came from inside the hall and soon Jace and Izzy were by their side.
"ALEC! Magnus, what happened?" Izzy asked, but when she saw her brother's condition, gasped and tears started pooling in her eyes. Jace was crying already.
"A scorpio... demon..." Magnus said in between the sobs.
"Help me! We have to take him to the infirmary!" Jace said while grabbing Alec and trying to stand him.
"J... Jace?" Magnus asked between his sobs.
"I can still feel him, he's not gone. Come on, help me!"
Magnus and Izzy quickly ran to his side and helped him to carry Alec to the infirmary. They informed the others and after hours, found that Alec fell into a coma and had no idea when he'll wake up. that made them relieved and scared at the same time.
Days passed by, the heat of the war was slowed down, but Alec was still in a state of coma nut Magnus never left his side. He sat there beside his husband 24 x 7.
~~5 days later~~
Magnus was a crying mess as he held his husband's hand against his lip. He didn't hear when somebody walked in, but when a hand squeezed his shoulder lightly, he looked up and noticed it was Izzy.
"Magnus... he's fine now, don't hurt yourself like this."
"It's all my fault! I shouldn't have let him go alone, I... I drained all my magic in the war that I couldn't help him, I couldn't save him. I couldn't save him, Isabelle!" He started crying again uncontrollably.
"Hey... Magnus, it's not your fault. Don't think like that." Izzy softly whispered.
"I should be there for him, it is my fault."
Izzy pulled out a chair and sat beside him. "Magnus, look at me, It's not your fault. You told us what happened, no one's blaming you, so don't think like that." Izzy patted his arms gently.
Magnus looked at her and nodded. "Thank you, Isabelle! But..."
"But what Magnus! If Alec will get to know you're thinking like that, he'll kill you! And I really hope he's listening to it right now, so he can beat your ass later." They both chuckled at this and gave a light laugh.
Magnus looked at Alec's sleeping figure connected with various medical supplies. 'Come back to me Alexander! Please!'
*******
A loud and constant buzz of his phone brought him back to reality. Before he could pick up, the ring died down. Frowning, he picked up his phone but gasped when he saw that there were 6 missed calls from Alec and two unread messages. 'Shit!' He was about to call back when it rang again, and he quickly received it.
"Alexander!? Is everything all right? Are you okay?" He asked in a panicked voice.
"Hello to you too, Magnus. I'm completely fine, relax. You didn't reply to the messages so I called you, are 'you' all right?"
Magnus sighed with relief. "Ya... I was in the... kitchen... preparing dinner... sorry." He lied.
"Oh!" Alec knew he was lying, he can tell that easily but chose to ignore it. "I was calling to inform th-"
'ALEC! WILL YOU HURRY UP, WE DON'T HAVE THE WHOLE DAMN NIGHT!' A voice called him in the background.
'5 minutes, Izzy! Coming!' "Ya... I was saying-"
"You're with Isabelle? Again?" Magnus asked confused.
"That's what I was going to tell, I'm in New York. There was an emergency, so I came with Izzy and Simon, I've messaged you, but you didn't reply. I've even called but then figured that you were busy with your clients. They both wanted to meet you before leaving, but you didn't pick up, so I called Cat instead for creating the portal. It's only for a few hours, I'll try to be back as soon as I can. I'm really sorry love, I'm ruining our dinners."
Magnus processed the information then took a deep breath. His eyes were pooling with tears he got from those flashbacks, so he blinked to clear his eyes and mind.' Damn it! How can I zone out like that!?' he thought.
"Magnus!? You there? Are you okay?"
"Yeah! I... I'm fine, Alexander. It's alright. Do your work... I... I was busy... so... I'll meet them some other time." He stuttered out and choked on his words.
"Thank you, I hope I won't get punished tonight as well!" He said playfully trying to lighten his depressed mood, which was clear from Magnus lies and chokings.
"No, you won't! But finish your work soon and get your ass back home! I'm waiting."
"Okay, Mr. Lightwood Bane! Love you, bye."
"Love you too." With that, they hung up the call and Magnus let out a deep breath. 'I'm going insane! I need a drink!' he thought then stood up and walked towards the bar area.
*********************
Alec sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew Magnus was lying to him, he heard him choking on his words which was a clear indication that he needs to go back home as soon as possible.
"If you're done talking to your husband, help me here! I'm NOT a book person!" Izzy yelled.
"Alec! Are you okay?" Simon asked as soon as he saw a deep frown on Alec's forehead. Izzy turned towards her brother and her expression changed.
"What's wrong, big brother?"
"It's Magnus, he was lying about being busy and was clearly crying again. Either he had the nightmare or was zoned out with the memories. I... it's killing me to see him like that, Izzy."
"Hey..." she rubbed his arms soothingly. "Why don't you try talking to him?"
"If that had worked I wouldn't be doing this!"
Izzy and Simon exchanged a look. "What!?" They exclaimed in unison.
"Izzy! Do you think I didn't try? I did, many times, but it only backfired. He became secretive, started crying, and hurting himself behind my back, that's when I knew talking isn't gonna work, I had to do something. I want to make our relationship better not ruin it." Izzy smiled at him and gave him a tight hug. "It's alright, Alec. I'm with you, you don't have to worry, everything will be alright."
"Thank you, Izzy!"
"Hey... ah... sorry to interrupt, but I found the book I read earlier."
They both quickly reached where Simon was standing with the book with the title The Book of Forgotten Legends: Myth or Truth?
"Wow, nice title! Open the list of contents." Alec spoke in a sharp tone.
"Here!"
"Wow, they are a lot!" Izzy was shocked. "Let's see, The Legends of Cain, is that what you read Si?"
"Yeah! A little."
"Focus!" Alec said harshly.
"Relax Alec! Okay, Lilith: mother of demons- the myth; Are angels real?; Raziel-the first angel?; Ramica: an epic love story; The creations of Ramica;"
"Those two sounded weirdly familiar!" Alec said interrupting her in the middle earning a deadly glare from her. "Sorry, continue!"
"The legends of Lucifer; Vampires: real or myths?; The oldest vampires' known- Salvatores or Mikaelsons?; The legends of The Originals; Werewolves: the myth; What is the Beast of Gevaudan?; Fallen angels and archangels- myth or truth?; Human or Angel?: Kasper Windermere; The-"
"Wait! What's the page no.? Kasper Windermere that one?"
"That's what you're looking for?" Simon asked.
"Yeah!"
"Here!" Izzy quickly opened the page and showed it to Alec.
"Damn it! There's nothing new! I already know all this!" He rubbed his temples in frustration.
"Wait! There's something!" Simon said. Alec looked at him. "It says the reference is taken from the book Kasper Windermere: Human turned Angel."
"There's a complete book on that Shadowhunter!" Izzy said shocked.
"Well, looks like it is! Search the whole bookshop! I want that book!" Alec said in his strong Inquisitor tone.
"On it big brother!"
They all separated and started searching each shelf and rows in detail. They had already spent an hour but found nothing. Alec started losing his hope when he heard Simon's scream.
"FOUND IT!" He quickly ran towards the source of the sound. He and Izzy reached there at the same time but went in complete shock when they saw what was in Simon's hand.
"What the-"
"Are you kidding me!"
"Alec! Ow! Can you please hold it, it's quite... ow... heavy."
Alec looked at him then at the book. "Let me activate my strength rune first." He quickly activated his strength rune and took the 5000 paged book from Simon's hands.
"A 5000 paged book for a one Shadowhunter! Who the hell was he!?" Izzy finally spoke.
"I have no idea, Izzy! I'll handle the book to Cat. I really hope this book will finally provide all the answers."
"Let us know if you find something, Alec. You're doing a big thing, Magnus is a lucky man."
"Thank you, Izzy, Simon, for your support. It means a lot. I should leave now. Bye!"
"Bye big brother! Keep us updated." He nodded then left.
Alec told Cat everything and went back to Alicante, going directly to her flat to handle the book. Cat was already waiting for him, pacing in the hallway.
"Hey, Cat!" He said breathlessly.
"Fina-" her eyes went wide and stared at Alec.
"Exactly my reaction too! Can you please take it, my strength rune is wearing off?"
She just nodded in reply then waved her hands to keep the book on the couch.
"I'll look into how much I can, rest we'll look tomorrow."
"I'll see you tomorrow then! Goodnight! Cat!"
"Goodnight, Alec!"
With that, he finally left for his flat eager to finally be in his warlock's arms.
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shawnpetermuffins · 5 years
Text
I Miss You
A/n: I hope this is good because I put this off for so long wanting to do it justice. And this is based very loosely off I Miss you.
Summary: you two broke up recently, and it's not sitting well with Shawn, even though he's the reason you broke up.
Requested by @it-isnt-in-myy-blood: Hi, I recently listened to the song 'I Miss you' (Clean Bandit, Julia Michaels). Maybe you could write a fic based on the song, angsty but with a fluff ending? Thank you... ❤️
***
Kinda_yourname
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2,158 likes
Kinda_yourname Cabo sunsets >>>> anything else
It may have only been a week, but I'm missing it here! 😭
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I shut my phone off and toss it to the end of the bed. I should have been with her on that trip, but tour got in the way. I got in the way. It's crazy to think that if you asked me three weeks ago, I would have said that my girlfriend and I could overcome any obstacle thrown at us. But ask me again a week later, and I would tell you I was wrong. That being away from her for months at a time was too much for me and I broke it off because I thought it would be what was best for both of us in the end.
Now ask me if I still believe that.
I don't.
I haven't told anyone about us yet. I mean, everyone probably suspects because there haven't been Amy preshow FaceTime calls for good luck, and I'm not texting like a madman during dinner or when we're on our way to the venues. And I know she hasn't said anything to anyone either. How? Because for one, she hasn't blocked me on any social media - I know, I've checked at least ten times just within the last two hours. And two, she hasn't deleted the three pictures of us that she has on her Instagram. They're still there for everyone to see, me included.
Now my fingers are hovering over the keyboard and I'm staring at her name on my phone which is still My Love 😍, and I'll probably never change it. Because she is my love, and to strip her of that title because I'm an idiot just isn't fair.
Hey... I miss you
I type and backspace and type and backspace at least ten times. Because I want to text her. I want so badly to text her, but what if she doesn't want to hear from me? I wouldn't blame her if she didn't want to. I was the worst. Breaking up with her over the phone, no less because I was hurting being away from her. Never once did it occur to me that, yeah, she was hurting too. Or maybe she's with someone else. Maybe she's found somebody new. I want her happy, sure. But I selfishly still want to be the one that makes her happy.
Y/n I miss you.
I delete it one last time and open my photo gallery. I have an album saved for photos of us. Photos that I never got to post because she wanted to keep us as private as possible without being a secret. Which is why both of us only have 3 photos of each other on our Instagram. One for our six months, a year, and a year and a half. Two more months and we would have had a fourth picture.
I'm swiping through the photos landing on one I took of her when we were flying back to Canada after our first trip together. We're on a private jet because this was before we went public with our relationship. Andrew made sure that we weren't seen together in the airport or anything. She's sitting in the seat across the aisle from me, legs up to her chest, earphones in, head resting on her knees as she smiles brightly at me. There's another one of us curled up together on this tiny chair in a green room in the UK that Andrew sent me. She's literally curled into a ball on my lap, sleeping peacefully and my legs are spread in front of me, arms wrapped tightly around her body, head resting against the back of the seat.
The next one Brian took. We were at my place for a very impromptu new years party. It was just gonna be me and y/n, but she insisted we invite the guys over. And we did. It was one of the best nights of my life. We're watching the ball drop, with her in my lap, arm around my shoulder. I have one arm behind her back, the other on her thigh. I think Brian knew something was going to happen because at ten seconds to midnight he pulled his phone out and captured out first new years kiss. She's holding my face and I'm practically leaning her back against the couch. It looks like I'm seconds away from crawling on top of her, and it be honest, I probably was. She's just too perfect for me to resist.
Then there's one that Josiah took of us just a few months ago at the studio house. I had y/n on the kitchen counter, she was in these jean shorts that I loved her in and a button up that she'd stolen from my suitcase. Not that I was complaining. It looked far better on her than it did on me. I stood between her legs, my hands on her sides, slipping under the shirt a little bit, leaning her hips exposed. Not that either of u cared with her fingers threaded in my hair as casually as they were. My face is blocked by her figure, but there isn't a doubt in my mind that I was smiling entirely too wide standing between her legs.
The video that follows knocks the breath out of me. She giggling like crazy, but the camera isn't on her, it's on me. On my back, more specifically. She laughs even more when I wince at the feel of her fingers on my red, raw skin that is now home of her fingernail scratches.
"Baby? What happened to your back?" She asked, amused.
"Don't know," I said, turning to face her, my cheeks still holding a slight blush. "But I think the real question is, what happened to your neck, missy?" I pluck the phone from her hands and turn the camera to her where she's trying to cover her face. I manage, however, to take her hands in my free one and the camera focuses on the flourishing bruises that litter her beautiful neck, my favorite place to rest my head.
I close my eyes, the memory of that night filling my mind. Watching her come down from her high, my face still buried between her legs. The weight and cold touch of her hands as she pulled me up to her, into her, because she needed me closer. I can hear myself murmuring the words 'I love you' all over her skin, still remember the way her back arched when I hit the right spot again and again and her finger ran down my back over and over, once more and she probably would have drawn blood. And I may not be home, but I can smell her on the sheets, that constant aroma of warm vanilla penetrating my nostrils. God, do I miss her.
I'm only making it worse for myself by doing this, I know that. But I should feel bad. I lost the greatest thing in my life and I didn't need to. So I got back to our messages, but instead of going to type a new one, I scroll through, reading through our old texts. There's countless paragraphs of us professing our love for each other. Lots of random pictures sent, most from my side. There's conversations about getting a home together, and a dog. And her telling me how much she loves my family and me telling her how much they love her, how much they ask about her. It's all hitting me too hard right now.
And it doesn't help that im literally sobbing at 2 in the morning, in Paris. The city of love. The place she told me was her favorite trip to ever take with me. Where we stood atop the eiffle tower and I gave her a promise ring, a ring that said I would love her and keep her forever. A promise ring that was now probably in the ocean in Cabo because I tore us apart so easily.
I sit up suddenly, struggling to catch my breath. It takes a few minutes, but I'm able to pull myself out of this empty bed that would only be comfortable with y/n laying next to me. I'm scrambling through the room, picking up the pair of jeans I threw off my body earlier and slipping back into them. I find a torn work out shirt in the bottom of my back and push my head and arms through before throwing my youth hoodie over my already overheated upper body. My passport is sitting in my guitar case, and I grab both things without a second thought. My suitcase trailing behind me.
It's difficult booking a flight and carrying a suitcase and guitar all at once, but I get along just well enough and adjust myself in the lobby while I wait for a taxi. I don't text Andrew until I've made it to the airport and am in my seat on the plane, ready for take off.
Emergency... had to fly home. Promise to make it back in time for the Paris show.
And I turn my phone off before he can text or call me back. Because there isn't a damn thing that he could say that would keep me there in a city that's meant for lovers, when my lover is across the world instead of laying in my arms the way she should be.
I know I shouldn't be doing this. I know there is someone out there who is better for her. Someone who isn't constantly on the move. Someone who can come home to her every night and help her make dinner. Someone who can cuddle her until she falls asleep when she's having a particularly bad day. I know there's someone who can do those things.
But I also know that he won't love her the way I do. He won't know all the little things that I do. Like how she only uses a blue toothbrush. Always has. And he won't notice the tiny scar that she has on her right middle finger from when we tried to make dinner together one night and she cut herself. He probably won't know that she wakes up at 3:34 every single night, because she hasn't been able to sleep fully and soundly through the night since she was four years old. And he'll mess up the way she likes her tea, using tea bags instead of leaves. (She like the herbal taste that you get when you use the leaves. And she likes when you do two scoops of them, and two scoops of sugar, but just cane sugar, the rock sugar makes it too earthy. And of course, she drinks it on ice because she hates burning her tongue with hot drinks.)
I'm thinking way too much as I get off the plane, reluctantly turning my phone back on only to see texts from just about everyone I know. They're all asking where I am, but I ignore them, because what I'm about to do is far more important than anything they threaten me with. I have to make things right.
Standing in front of this door that I've stood in front of hundreds of times should make me feel at ease. Remembering all the times I had her pressed against the other side of the door because I just couldn't wait to have her all to myself. But if anything, it's making me more nervous. So nervous that my hands are shaking, palms sweating, my breathing is jagged and I know if I don't knock right now I might never get the chance again and I can't lose her for real this time. So without giving myself the chance to rethink, I knock on the door three times and I wait, handing in the pocket of my hoodie.
I wait a solid thirty seconds, which feel like an eternity, before the door finally opens and I see my beautiful girl. Her face is bare, hair only halfway straightened, and she's in those shorts I love and my old Led Zepplin t-shirt.
"Shawn," my name still sounds like heaven spilling from her lips. "What are you doing here?" She crosses and then uncrosses her arms, shifting her weight from one leg to the other before standing completely straight.
I didn't even realize I was crying until I sniffled and heard my voice crack with just three words, "I miss you."
"Shawn," she shook her head.
"I tried not to," I insisted, still standing like a fool on her door step. "I swear I did. But I couldn't stop. I looked through all our pictures and texts, and I couldn't stop myself from missing you. And I know I have no right to because I broke things off. But I was in Paris and I was miserable because Paris was your favorite place, and that was where I promised to love you forever, and I'm still keeping that promise. I was an idiot," I continue to ramble. "If there's a better word for that, then I'm that too, because I thought it would be easier if I broke things off. This tour was going to be so long and to go that long without each other, I was scared that it wouldn't be enough for you. But it's not what I wanted, y/n. It's not, and I just-"
"Shawn, stop."
I shut my mouth instantly, ready for her to tell me to leave. But what she does instead throws me completely off guard. She pulls me into the apartment and wraps her arms around my neck, burying her head deep in my chest.
"I miss you, too." She mumbles and I exhale slowly, only to inhale that scent that I love so much. The scent that is naturally her. She starts to pull away, and even though I don't want her to, I let her but she only leans back enough to take my face in her hands and before I even have time to blink, her soft lips are on mine and I'm whole again.
She's mine again and I'm never letting her go.
***
Tags: @curlyshawny @shawns-badreputation @anamariel2301 @bbellbagel
This took me longer to write than it should have, but I kinda really like it. I hope you enjoyed and I'll see you Wednesday for more content! 💙
Like, reblog, and leave feedback!!
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iamknicole · 5 years
Text
Beat Down
A/N: After Landen tried to give Charles head.
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During their nightly call Charles sounded different and off and since Mitch had the kids, Lainey rode to the hotel to see him. She called Landen on the way to get some insight of what she was walking into but she got no answer.
Secret service greeted her warmly as she walked his hall and the one closest to Charles' door opened it for her. When she walked in Charles was sitting on the side of the bed in a towel. Clearly still wet from his shower. He was zoned out, she used that to her advantage and snuck on the bed behind him.
"Hey, Charlie Brown," she whispered with her hands on his shoulders. He jumped and pushed her away. It was his reflex. She landed on her back on the bed, she sat up slowly looking at him as he now stood before her. "Um, jumpy, what the hell is wrong with you? It's just me."
"Shit, I'm sorry. I thought ... I thought," he sighed rubbing a hand through his hair.
"You thought what?" Lainey asked now sitting up on her knees. She didn't bother to pull her thigh length nightdress over her knees.
"That you were someone else."
"Well who would be that close to you that you would push down like that? And if you say Candace, I'm gonna go put my foot in her ass then come back and put the other in yours."
Charles has to laugh a little at that. Lainey did not play and he loved it.
"No, beautiful, not Candace. She's not allowed anywhere near me."
"Then who?" She asked patting the bed for him to sit.
Charles sighed as he sat down. "Landen."
"Uuuh...Why would her be that close to you?"
"If I tell you, you have to promise not to get mad and tell your family." He said looking in her eyes.
Alaina rolled her eyes and nodded.
"We were drinking together, I said I needed to lie down, he was helping with my belt even though I kept telling him I could do it and I remember falling back cause I was so drunk," he paused to shake his head. "Next thing I know he was tryna pull my dick out and suck it."
Alaina glared at him. She was having a lot of thoughts mainly admit hurting Landen.
"I told you he liked you, Charles but nooo," she fussed, "You said he's fine, he's just dedicated. Yeah dedicated to having your dick down his throat."
"You promised not to get mad, Alaina."
"I'm not mad, Charles. I'm fine."
Charles leaned forward to kiss her. They kissed slowly before Lainey pulled away smiling.
"First it was Candace and now it's Landen. The next person who tries you like this," Alaina emphasized by grabbing Charles through his towel, "dick doesn't belong to me, they're gonna have an issue. And you stop letting random people touch you, that's irritating."
Charles tensed up into Alaina eased the grip she had on his dick, his eyes never leaving hers. "Yes ma'am."
"Good," she smirked letting him go, "Now go to sleep. I'll see you tomorrow for breakfast. You still have your key right?"
"I uh," he stuttered. "Yeah, I do. But you're not staying?"
Alaina looked from his lap you his face still smirking. "Nope. I'm gonna go back home. If I stay here, I'll be at his door kicking his ass."
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Of course she didn't go home.
Of course she sat in the hotel bar and called her brother and father to tell them what Landen did.
After months of putting up with Landen's antics to keep Charles away from her, his snide remarks and outright disrespect, Lainey had enough. She called then to come help her fuck him up.
Thoughts of calling Melissa came to her but she would just tell her about it much later. Melissa has loose lips, can't hold a lick of water.
When the men walked in Alaina got up to meet them at the elevators, on her way she stopped by Candace and smiled.
"Don't think we forgot either, your ass is still grass, Candy Cane. Someone just happens to be a bit higher than you on the list." Alaina stared at her still smiling. "You enjoy that drink though, girl. And remember always watch your surroundings."
When she got to the elevators, the doors were just opening. They allowed her to enter the elevator before them. Benny passed her the air forces, black tights and hoodie she asked for, quickly she put them on over her night dress.
"You know we got this, Lainey. You don't have to do anything. Not need info you hurting yourself," Eddie assured.
Zion and Cameron laughed.
"I appreciate that, Eddie but I don't like disrespect. Zi taught me not to take shit so I won't start now."
Quietly and quickly the family entered Landen's room. He was sprawled across the bed on his back. Alaina approached him, watching him sleep for a second then drew her fist back and punched him in his mouth. He jumped up in a panic holding his mouth with one hand and cutting his light on with the other.
"What the hell is your problem, Alaina? You can't just hit people!" He yelled wiping the blood from his mouth.
"Who the fuck you yellin' at?" Cameron barked.
Landen eyes landed on the five men standing before him, his eyes grew wide. "Lainey, wait. Wait, we can talk about it! It was an accident."
"My man, you accidentally tried to put my sister's husband's dick in your mouth? Do you hear how dumb that sounds?" Zion asked closer.
Caleb watched for a few seconds before speaking up. "Before me and my children whoop your ass, I want you to know this has nothing to do with how you love your life. This is for the disrespect. You disrespect Charles which means you disrespected Lainey. And when you disrespect her, you disrespect us."
------
"I can't believe he pissed on himself," Cameron laughed.
"Bet he won't try Charles again," Benny added with a nod.
They stood inside of one of Caleb's properties changing out of their bloodied clothes. After they took turns whooping his ass, they were nice enough to drive him to the emergency room.
Zion cussed loudly. "As hard as baby sis kicked his ass in his jaw, ion think he gon be doin a ghat damn thing with that muhfucker."
"I still think we should've shot him," Eddie joked.
"Your trigger happy ass don't need no more guns," Caleb laughed.
Lainey rolled her eyes and laughed at their jokes. She tjought she would feel a little bad about doing it but she didn't. Landen had been too disrespectful.
"Sooooo," she sung out making the room go silent, "Does this mean I can help with Candace?"
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