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i-am-infinite · 3 years

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Guilt (Part 1): The Rescue

(Din Djarin x ForceSensitive!Fem!Reader)

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Slight Chpt 12 and 13 spoilers. Read at your own risk.

Description: Moff Gideon has found someone else to run his experiments on and word gets back to Din. Will he take his son far away and try and find somewhere safe? Or will the guilt of an innocent being put in his son’s place eat away at him? (No Y/N or ___ used)

Word Count: Slightly over 4K

Warnings: Mentions of blood and needles. Broken glass. Fainting. Blood loss. Canon type violence. Possible bad writing (first fic pls go easy on me). If I’m missing anything please let me know, I’ve never done one of these before.

A/N: This is my first fanfic I’ve written so it might be really bad but I couldn’t get the idea out of my head so here it is. I also made up a planet/system and don’t know if star wars has alarm clocks but i wrote it in anyway. I also wrote this in Word first and then realized I couldn’t copy it over so I tried my best to type it over in here.

Normal. That is what was used to describe your life. Nothing out of the ordinary. Life wasn’t boring per se, but it definitely wasn’t compelling enough for your tastes. Studying to be a healer help keep it somewhat interesting but not enough.

Bzzzzz. Bzzzzzzzzz. Crust littered eyes creak open as your face unsticks from the textbook scattered across the desk. Bzzzzz. Bzzzzzzzzz. Your stiff neck cracks as you finally sit up. Fell asleep studying again. You loved learning about healing, you really did. But the long nights and barely sleeping was enough to make your head explode. Looking over at the clock with bright red numbers blinking at you. 8:15.

8:15! I’m late! You think as you force yourself awake. No not again! Being a student means you need to do hands on hours down at the nearest medcenter. All the late night studying also means that you oversleep most days. Grabbing your work bag filled with a change of clothes, in preparation of these events, you run out the door.

Your feet hit the wet cobble stones as it echos through your little part of the city. Vendors lining up the street ready to start their days. Passing the shop you went to yesterday, your mind too preoccupied to notice that it’s empty today. You know that theres is a faster route to the medcenter, but is it a path you really want to take today? Dark and windy path that you can barely see five feet in front of you on mornings like this. Too foggy and muggy for your liking. You’d rather stick to the main road where there’s people, where if anything were to happen, people would see, they would know. Regardless, it shaves fifteen minutes off your commute. You loathe having to be late for another shift. Making the sharp turn in between tow booths, you pace quickens to get through as quickly as you can. While not having much visibility, you swear you can see a pair of eyes in the dark. Has to just be my imagination, you convince yourself, I just need to keep going. It’ll be fine.

Footsteps echo behind you. Hands grab your shoulders. A scream rises in your throat, but no sound comes out. Everything goes dark when you feel something hit the side of your head.

Sigh. “Grogu get back in your seat.” The little baby waddles down off the controls and into his father’s lap. “Not what I meant,” Din grumbles with a smile hidden under his helmet. He grabs Grogu by his little robe and places him in the seat to his right and tells him to buckle up as a holo comes through from Greef Karga.

“Mando, we’ve just got word that Moff Gideon might have been seen in the Braic system. It looks like they found a substitute for the baby for the time being. I would use this time to go find a hide-out and lay low. He could still come back for the little one. Be well,”

Din goes to start the ship and find coordinates to stay out of trouble for a while when he hears the baby whine. Looking back at his adoptive child, all Din can see is Grogu, then a nameless kid, lying unconscious on a metal table, trapped underneath a contraption. Din starts breathing heavy and feeling sick that he ever gave his son up to those Imps. All he can hear is the beeping of the machine he’s hooked up to. Anger boiling back to the surface as he hears himself yell at the doctor all over again in his memories. No, he tells himself, He’s here with me. He’s fine. He’s safe. He shakes himself out of it and goes to fly the Razor Crest off planet.

Before he even gets off the planet, all Din can think about is that innocent person in his son’s place. They were going to kill Grogu, just for his blood for their experiments. Din can’t bring the kid anywhere near those people, he can’t risk losing his family, not when both of them have formed such attachments to each other. But he can’t stop thinking of this person who is in the that position now. He should’ve made sure Gideon was dead. Because of that now more people are going to get hurt.

Without thinking he turns on his holo already asking, “Where is he taking them?”

Feeling groggy with heavy eyes, you are able to open them just a bit to a blinding light. Reluctantly closing them again, you lift your arm to rub your eyes, but only they don’t move. What? The rest of your senses start coming back and you can feel the cool metal against your back, the same metal wrapped around your wrists and your ankles attached to the table. Finally bracing the light and opening your eyes, lifting your head slightly off the table and oh no the room is spinning now. There is an IV in your arm drawing your blood out into some odd machine, explaining the dizziness. Second time in two days you’ve had to deal with your own blood.

Walking through the shops on your one day off, you pick up a flower hair pin. The glasswork is so intricate and entrancing, you can’t help but turn it over and over in your hands. A pearl bead sitting in the center of iridescent gray and white petals. Placing it back in its place, your had scrapes against another glass design that is not yet finished, slashing open your palm. “Oh, dear let me help you with that,” the lady running the stand says. She looks you with her white hair barely covering her forehead. Tattoos liter her arms. A design peaks your interest as you swear you know but can’t quite place.

“It’s fine, I can take care of it myself,” you state already inspecting your hand. No shards in it so thats good.

“Oh no I insist. It happened at my booth, let me help clean it,” she declares taking your hand in her own. It feels like she squeezes the wound causing you to wince in pain slightly. Knowing she should just be cleaning it and wrapping it, you’re a little confused. Maybe she just doesn’t know how to tend to these sort of things, not wanted to embarrass her at her stand, you keep quiet. She finally gets a clean rag to help blot away at the blood on your hand. You didn’t think anything of it at the time, but it appears she has put it in a bag to the side.

“I don’t have any gauze to help wrap it up,” the stand lady says.

“Oh, don’t worry, I have plenty of my own,” you mention, “It will be fine until I make it back to my place.” Smiling you walk away. Without looking, you can feel her move the piece you cut your hand on into the bag. Must just be because it’s a dangerous piece, you think, not knowing there’s still some of your blood on it too.

Closing your eyes again, you try to wonder why that is so significant to you right now. It was a harmless thing in passing, so why is it at the forefront of your mind? You are strapped to a table and all you can think about is that little cut you got the day prior. If your head didn’t feel like it was a spinner top right now, you would have laughed. Opening your eyes again you see men all in white armor and helmets guarding the door to your room, while a man in a white coat is working on the machine where your IV is attached. I thought the empire was dead. The same symbol that keeps going through your mind is the same one sewn into the man’s white coat. Your breathing gets shallower as you feel the panic rise in your chest. I’m never getting out of here, you realize as your vision becomes black once again.

You’re losing a lot of blood. You know that. You can feel it when noise wakes you up and your eyelids feel like lead. All the noise is muffled, as if you’re underwater. Frankly it feels like you are. It would be so easy to let the waves of darkness just wash over you right now, to let the water take you under. No, you can’t give up the fight and drown into unconsciousness just yet. You force yourself to stay awake.

Barely getting your eyes open, bright red lights flood your vision. You imagine you’re still in bed, or at least asleep at your desk, with the alarm clock blaring, not here with blaster fire. Wait, blaster fire? You attempt to turn your head to the side to look, or to dodge, you aren’t to sure in your current state. The fast action causes you to feel like you’re spinning, or it might be the room, either way your eyes can’t focus on what is going on. Closing your eyes again to make it stop, you hear voices surrounding you. They sound so far away at the moment but finally, after what feels like ages, one voice sounds clearer.

“Please help us. Help us get out of here. Her m-counts aren’t nearly as high as the child’s. They’re demanding more blood. She’s already lost 2 liters, I don’t know how much longer she can last.”

Child? They wanted to do this to a child? You’d choke down a sob if you could just thinking of that poor baby. What did he even say about what-counts? What the hell are those? All these questions are making your head spin more and more. Taking most of your energy to open your eyes, you’re met with a chrome stormtrooper trying to unbind you. Wait no, not a stormtrooper. You’ve heard stories about him and his people. What were they called? For the life of you, you can’t remember right now.

“You’re going to need help getting her out of here,” you realize that the man in the whit coat was the one who spoke before and is now pleading with the metal man, “Please Mandalorian take me with you and I’ll help you get her out of here.”

That’s it. He’s a Mandalorian. He gets your wrists free as the doctor takes the IV out. Pushing off the table to sit up, the world starts spinning again. You don’t even realize you’re about to hit the table again until the Mandalorian grabs your shoulders to keep you semi-upright. You hear some sort of static come from his helmet. “Fine.” he grumbles, “help me get her out of this thing.”

With a flip of a switch, the rest of your body is free from restraints. Eager to get out of there, you swing your legs over the edge of the table, hands finding the arms of the Mandalorian with his hands still on your shoulders. Nauseous and woozy, you try to use the cold metal of his pauldron to ground yourself, to get the room to stop spinning. He can see you start to sway and wraps his arms around your waist as he lowers you from the table. Your feet hit the floor and black dots start to cloud your vision. Blood pounding in your ears trying to tell you to stop and lie back down. Muffled voices come from beside you again as you feel another arm wrap around you from the other side. Your feet dragging against the floor as both men on either side of you go towards the door.

You feel the heavily armored man to your left let go. Eyes that are still fuzzy and unfocused sort of see him peak out the door with his blaster drawn. He leaves the room and all that can be heard is the pew pew pew of blaster fire. Vision start to come back the tiniest bit, you can see him standing in the door way waving his hand as to say Come on.

The three of you hurry as fast as you can down the corridor to get to an exit. Lots of twists and turns, just for you all to come up at a dead end. So much for rescuing, you think to yourself as the doctor still holding you up, leans you up against a pillar as the two of them survey the situation. More of the Mandalorian assessing the situation and the doctor just frantically pacing back and forth.

Sitting down now that the adrenaline of being kidnapped and “rescued” die down, you feel your breathing getting shallower and harder to breath. Eyelids getting heavy again. You just want to lay down and go to sleep, hoping that will fix things. Starting your descent from your upright position to close your eyes, two hands grab your shoulders and jerk you up. It takes a second to realize this modulated voice was talking you you. “Hey, you got to stay with me now,” he pleads, one hand going to the side of your face. Pain spreads across your features due to being struck there earlier, a bruise starting to form in its place. Pulling his hand away like seeing the your face contorted burned him, he continues, “I’m going to get you out of here, you just have to stay awake.” You open your mouth to speak, but your throat feels like it’s filled with sand from Tattooine, so you just weakly nod your head yes. “Okay good,” the shiny man says after letting out a deep breath.

Still holding your shoulders, he helps you stand up and tells the doctor to take you and go further down the hall. Taking something small and circular out of his belt and placing it on the far wall, he speed walks back toward you two. It starts blinking red as his arms come and cage both of you in. Peeking over his shoulder, you see the wall disappear. Well explode, but one second ago it was there and now it’s not. When the explosion first rings in your ears, you reflexively reach out for the Mandalorian’s arm and feel him tense under your touch.

When he deems it safe to move again, letting go of his arm, he hops over the rubble to the outside world, blaster drawn. Looking out you think it looks like a desert, but one you’ve never seen before. You have no idea where you are, even what planet you are on. You eyes go to where the chrome man is stalking towards. It seems he found two speeder bikes that the troopers use, sans the troopers. Your feet hit the gravel and you realize you aren’t wearing shoes anymore. How long was I out? You begin to question when you see a stormtrooper take aim at your rescuer. Right when he pulls the trigger, you reach your hand out and scream, “NO!”

You could’ve sworn it was going to hit him. It should’ve hit him. But at the last second it bent and went in another direction. You knew stormtroopers were bad shots, but nothing like that has ever happened. The Mandalorian whips around at your scream and shoots the trooper down. He goes back to what he originally planned to do, but not without turning to you. You see his chest plate heave up and down a few times before turning back around. After a beat, the only sound you can hear is the Mandalorian starting up the speeders and your heartbeat pounding in your ears. The doctor helps guide you to the bikes and as you’re about to get on behind him, the Mandalorian picks you up bridal style and sits on his own respective bike. You make a noise of discontent at the sudden action and are then seated in front of him, yet again caged in by his arms with your legs draped over one of his. You can hear him breathing through the modulator as he states, “Just in case you pass out again. Can’t have you falling off the back of the bike.” You go to adjust how you are sitting when he takes off.

Gasping in shock, you hug your arms around his neck with you head in his cowl as you take panicked breaths. His hand touches your back as you hear him shout over the noise of the engines, “Put your legs around me, you’re slipping off.” He holds your waist as you sling your right leg around and hook it with your left one behind his back. Not the position you thought you’d end up in as a blush creeps up on your face, but neither the less here you are. His hand lets go of your waist and back to the handlebars as he steers.

Suddenly getting the feeling like you’re being followed, you say into his neck cowl, “Go left!” You don’t know why, but you just get a gut feeling to go that way. He follows your lead, not without a brief hesitation. The doctor follows on his speeder in the same direction. Finally looking up you see two stormtroopers in the distance. I wish their speeders would just stop or something, you plead with yourself and you think back to what happened with the blaster. Testing the waters, you unhook one of your hands from Mando’s neck and hold it out and... nothing. Okay focus, you close your eyes and picture their speeders stopping, or malfunctioning, or anything at this point.

The sound of a crash comes ringing into your ears. Opening your eyes, you can see the troopers flip over their handlebars as if their engines just died. You slightly chuckle to yourself as your eyelids feel heavy again. You try to get them to stay open, but sleep just feels so much better at the moment. And with that, you’re out like a light.

Din feels you go limp against him. His arm once again going to grab you by your waist to keep you in place. He wills his speeder to go faster, to get back to the Razor Crest sooner as he’s panicking thinking he somehow made the situation worse. He exposed you on the bike by having you sit like this. Your arms, legs, and head were all exposed to possible blaster fire. Have you been hit? He heard a crash but couldn’t look back without moving you more, risking leaving you more unprotected. His blame for himself spirals as his grip on you grows tighter. He can’t explain why he’s so distraught over a stranger, but still every time he blinks, he swears he sees back on that table. The next time he swears he sees his son on that very table again. First he gave the kid up to those people, now he didn’t finish Gideon off and let you, an innocent stranger who he is now clutching onto for dear life, get in the crossfire. Too many people have gotten hurt because of this. Because of him. He needs to make it right.

Finally Din and Dr. Pershing arrive at the Razor Crest where Din is already lowering the hatch and carrying you in. Kicking some crates together, he gently lowers you down onto this makeshift bed. He uses his thermal setting to see your body temperature, to see how you are recovering from the blood loss. He isn’t thrilled to see it still low, you were getting your energy back slowly before, along with more body heat, bit not enough to Din’s liking. Turning his helmet to Pershing, the doctor says, “She’s going to need more blood.” Din, already standing ready to run out and get some, not even knowing where or how to do that, is stopped by Pershing telling him that he’ll go get it, that it would look less suspicious. Agreeing, Din sits by your side while using his comm-link to tell Greef that he could bring Grogu back to the ship. How Din always finds someone to babysit still surprises him.

You wake up with a start. Eyes not yet adjusted to the lights overhead. Looking down you can see an IV in your arm again. Now towards the side, you can see the same doctor from before asleep up against a wall. Please tell me it wasn’t a dream, tears well up in your eyes as you think you’ve made the whole thing up to cope. It wasn’t until you felt your hand come to wipe away your watery eyes that you realized it just might not be a dream. The IV isn’t taking blood this time, it’s giving it.

Finally looking around, you realize you’re on a ship that feels like it’s moving. Confused by this, you try and sit up. Not nearly as dizzy as before, you slowly swing your legs off the wooden crates you’re lying on. Noticing your still barefoot as a chill gets sent up to your spine by the cold metal floor, you grab your IV bag off what appears to be just a hook poorly attached to the ceiling. You venture around the small area of the ship, noticing there isn’t a lot besides these boxes and what appears to be two storage type of units. You don’t even tempt to look in, too intrusive. You do however see a ladder going higher up on the ship. Taking the IV out and ripping a piece of your shirt off to wrap around your arm for pressure, so you can use both hands to climb, you start your ascent up.

Once you finally reach the top, you hear cooing? Didn’t that doctor say something about a child earlier? Looking forward into the cockpit, you see your savior flying while looking to his right at one of the co-pilot chairs. Clearing your throat to get his attention, two little eyes peer at you from the seat. A bright smile appears on this little green things face and you can’t help but stifle a laugh because its ears are the size of his body.

Distracted by this cute baby, you don’t notice the way the Mandalorian swivels his chair to face you. Finally looking at the man who saved you today, your breath hitches. You don’t know how to thank him for what he did, so you sort of just stand and stare for a second. He stands up and lightly grabs your arm with your homemade bandage on it. Tilting his helmet to the side you hear static coming from it. Did he just sigh at you? “You were supposed to keep it in your arm,” he finally states, with a tinge of annoyance.

Eyes not wanting to meet the T of his visor, you direct your gaze to the ground. “ I jus- I-,” you stammer, not able to find the right words. “Thank you.” It comes out more hushed than you’d like, but he still hears you. He just gives you a slight nod before releasing his arm and heading back to his seat. All your muscles turn to stone as you stand there not knowing if you should leave or not, until he cocks his head towards the seat to his left. On shaky legs you find your way to the seat. Before even sitting down fully, the little green child is already trying to get into your lap. Giggling to yourself you let him up onto your lap.

Once you do the strangest thing happens. You can feel what he’s thinking, his emotions, his past. How he was trained with the special abilities, much like the ones you just displayed before. How he was scared and in hiding until the man sitting in front of you found him. How he thinks of him as a father, his dad. Your chest tightens at that one. Still confused as to why the same people who wanted this child, Grogu, for his powers, also wanted you, you pull him to your chest to comfort you both. You finally speak up again and ask, “Did they want me because I might have the same abilities as this one?” You meant it to sound strong, but it just came out sounding weak.

Without looking at you, the Mandalorian replies shortly after a pause, “Yes.” You swore you can see his grip tighten on the ships steering as he says that. Turning to the two of you finally, he says in the sincerest voice you’ve heard out of him, “They wont get to either of you again. I can promise you that.” Your chest swells at this statement and Grogu looks up at you with a smile as if he felt the way your heart fluttered. You wish you were the one wearing the helmet right now because you can feel your cheeks heat up. To ease the situation in the best way you can, awkwardly, you clear your throat before asking, “So where are we headed now?”

Swiveling back in his chair to hit a few buttons, you’re confused not knowing what they are supposed to do until he pulls up a map and points a place out. He tells you that he’s going to drop off Dr. Pershing at one of the squiggles you see and then try and figure it out from there. “So, I guess thats where I get off too?” You meant it to come out more as a statement than a question, but after what you just went through, you’d rather not be left to fend for youself.

“If that’s what you want,” he finally utters after a while. “ But they’re not going to stop coming after you. Either of you. It might be safer for you to stay here with me, us.” The last part comes out so quiet, it’s almost as if he didn’t want you to hear, out of fear of your response.

Trying to not answer too quickly, you take a deep breath and finally say, “Yes. I’d like that a lot.” With a curt nod, he turns back around. Warmth fills your chest yet again at this stranger’s kindness. It’s just because I have the same abilities as his child, you try to convince yourself. But deep down you’re hoping it’s more than that. The child in your lap grips your fingers tightly and coos, as if he’s trying to tell you your hopes might not be too far off.

Oh, it’s going to be an interesting adventure with these two, you smile to yourself.

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alj4890 · 3 years

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Angst Prompt

(Liam x Riley) with the prompt of Riley getting shot in another country while Liam was in Cordonia and it have been ordered by King Bradshaw as requested by Anonymous.

A/N Oof. What a way to knock me off my fluff kick, LOL. This isn't a part of my AU's but let's see what I can do for your prompt, Nonny. This takes place after the Bradshaw/Isabella mess but before Barthlemy's challenge. I guess I will ruin that brief moment of peace, LOL.

@gkittylove99 @krsnlove @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @hopefulmoonobject @yourmajesty09 @mom2000aggie @ofpixelsandscribbles @twinkleallnight

Masterlist

News

The Royal Palace, Cordonia...

"Here we go, princess." Liam settled his seven month old in her swing. "How about you help your father with reading through these proposals the Council is considering?"

Eleanor smiled around the teething ring she had put in her mouth.

Liam pressed a quick kiss to her cheek then started the swing.

He settled behind his desk, finally feeling a sense of calmness. With all the ups and downs he had gone through since his brother's abdication, he rested in knowing that he, his family, and country were at last entering into a season of peace.

He intended to keep it that way.

The gurgles and coos from Eleanor drew his attention. She waved the teething ring a few times before putting it back in her mouth.

He chuckled at her antics.

He was enjoying these few days of one-on-one time with his daughter. Riley had been asked to be the guest of honor at Lancelin St Clair's fashion grand opening. The renowned designer had created a place where his creations could be not only sold, but created specifically for the customer.

Lancelin had completely renovated a four-story building in Paris's Faubourg Saint-Honoré district, turning each floor into one with a definite purpose. The first floor was a shop that housed various sizes of his most popular creations. The second floor was part runway/part design on demand for the shopper looking for something completely original. The third floor would debut his new bridal line. And the fourth was set as his personal work area/apartment for when he needed to stay late and work on his designs.

All this was to be shown to the public to set off Paris's fashion week.

Since Riley had walked his runway during Liam and Madeleine's engagement tour, he had invited her to be part of his grand opening. Ana De Luca was traveling with Cordonia's queen to do an exclusive spread of Riley in some of the dresses Lancelin had made specifically with her in mind.

It was just the sort of news the people of Cordonia would enjoy after months of uncertainty.

****************

"I really don't want to go without you and Eleanor." Riley told Liam the night before she left.

"I don't want you to either." He held her close. "But I have to meet with the Farmers' Association about the progress of the apple orchards." He pressed a tender kiss to her lips. "I've already had to reschedule twice with them. They need to see I take their concerns seriously."

"I know." She sighed. "And I know that Eleanor would distract everyone from Lancelin's moment." She eased out of his embrace. "This will be the first time I go out without you or any of our friends."

Liam took her hands and tried to ease her worries. "You will do great." He smiled at her. "You charm everyone you meet. I believe I am proof to your effect."

Riley shook her head before kissing him. "If anyone is the charmer, it's you."

He chuckled while tugging her toward their bed. "Do you want me to find someone to go with you? Penelope or Kiara perhaps?"

"No thanks." She snuggled closer to him. "I wish Hana was well enough to go. She was looking forward to it."

Liam gently rubbed her back. "With Maxwell in Hollywood and Drake in Texas, we don't have anyone left."

"I wish Olivia was back." She muttered.

"Amalas needed her expertise." Liam reminded her.

"I know." Riley sighed again. "If I can't have you with me, I do tend to depend on the others to be there. I need to learn how to stand on my own."

"The world will once again be amazed by Cordonia's queen." He kissed the top of her head. "You'll see."

********************

Liam glanced at his desk clock. It was nearly time for Ana's live report of Lancelin's grand opening.

His princess had fallen asleep in her swing, drawing another smile from him as he carefully lifted her out. Cuddling her close, he sat down on one of the sofas and turned the television on.

Finding the right channel, he relaxed as the first images appeared.

Cordonia's Queen Riley has been given the honor of walking the red carpet first. Lancelin St Clair awaits, giving her the shears to cut the ceremonial ribbon.

He readjusted Eleanor in his arms as he watched his wife's bright smile flash towards the cheering crowd.

Ana continued to detail what they would soon see when shots rang out.

Liam stood up, causing Eleanor to whimper at being rudely awakened.

Ignoring her fitful cries, he watched as the camera caught his wife and Lancelin falling to the ground.

Then the feed went dead.

"BASTIEN!" Liam shouted over Eleanor's wails.

The head of the King's Guards hurried inside while talking on his phone. Regina rushed in behind him.

"Give me the baby." She insisted, gently taking the fussy little one in her arms. She left the study, allowing Liam to be able to focus on what Bastien was saying.

"And the shooter?" He asked. "I see. Where is her majesty being taken?"

Bastien wrote down the information. "Keep me updated."

Once he ended the call, he faced Liam.

"What happened?" He demanded.

Bastien cleared his throat. "A lone gunman shot both Riley and Mr. St Clair."

"Is she alright? Have the plane prepared. We must get there as quickly as we can!"

"Sir," Bastien hesitated. "I must insist you remain here. The gunman was killed by one of our guards. We don't know if there is another and--"

Liam shoved past him and called the airfield. Declaring it an emergency, he then rushed to tell Regina.

"Liam." She teared up as she took his hand. "Be careful and call as soon as you know more."

"Your majesty, I insist you remain here while I go to Paris." Bastien followed after him. "Once my team has investigated, I can then guarantee your safety--"

"Do you honestly think I give a damn about my safety?!" Liam rounded on him. "My wife was just shot! She is alone in another country and hurt. If you think I will sit here behind these so called protective walls, then you do not know me at all." He went back to his study and quickly packed his briefcase. "Now get me to the airport."

*****************

Early evening, Paris...

"Her majesty is at one of the private hospitals." Bastien explained as the car continued through the city. "Interpol is working with us to identify the shooter."

Liam stared blindly out the window. "Is my wife conscious?"

"She was." Bastien tried to explain. "She lost some blood from her wound and--"

Their car stopped at the front entrance.

"Liam!" Bastien shouted as the king didn't bother to wait on guards or to check that it was safe.

The young king ran inside, pausing long enough to ask where he should go.

"Je suis le roi de Cordonia. Ma femme a été amenée avec une blessure par balle. Où est-elle? Est-ce qu'elle va bien?" He said quickly.

"Elle se repose dans la chambre 138, Votre Majesté. Dr Miller a dit--" the receptionist blinked when he took off running once more.

Liam slid on the freshly waxed tile floors, barely catching himself as he followed the signs.

A doctor and nurse were just leaving Riley's room when he arrived.

"My wife," Liam gasped, trying to catch his breath. "Is she alright?"

"Oui. She was struck in the shoulder." He paused as both King's Guards and Interpol Agents joined them. "We removed the bullet while she was unconscious."

Liam reached for the door handle as the others began to question the physician.

He paused at seeing his wife laying there, looking so fragile.

One of the first things he had first noticed about her was her inner strength to face any obstacle she encountered. He realized he had taken that he had taken that for granted. The only other time he had seen her like this was when she collapsed during Eleanor's birth.

Liam knew there were only a few things he feared in this world. But those few things centered on something specific: his family.

He could face an entire firing squad and not bat an eye. But let it be Riley or Eleanor that was to be threatened, and he could not take it.

He collapsed in the chair by her bed and pressed a kiss to her fingers. Bowing his head, he waited by her side until she awakened.

****************

A few hours later...

Liam stood up when Riley became restless. Soft cries escaped her lips as she slept. He reached for the buzzer.

Explaining that his wife was in pain, he waited for a nurse to come in.

Bastien entered first.

"Have you learned anything about the shooter?" Liam asked in a low voice.

"We have." Bastien stopped the nurse.

He and an Interpol agent patted him down and checked the IV bag of morphine he held.

They stepped back and allowed him to tend to Riley.

Liam watched him replace the bag that had been on a slow drip.

"Can she have more?" He asked as she cried out again.

"Yes sir." He showed Liam the button he could push if she needed more, reassuring him that it wouldn't administer any past the dosage she could have. He increased the flow and left.

Riley's eyes barely opened. "Liam?"

He went back to her bedside. "I'm here, my love."

"My shoulder." She sucked in a painful breath. "What happened?"

"A man was in the crowd." Liam gently explained, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "He shot at you and Lancelin and--"

Her eyes widened. "Lancelin! Liam, he was bleeding so much!"

Bastien cleared his throat as he stepped forward. "He is in intensive care at another hospital, mam."

He pointed at the right side of his chest and mouthed lung to Liam.

Liam frowned some before turning back to Riley.

"Where's Eleanor?" Riley asked, turning her head. "Did you bring her?"

"No. Regina is watching over her at home." Liam eased down on the bed. "Do you need anything? Is there something I can do to make you more comfortable?"

"No." Her eyes filled with tears as she looked up at him. "Liam, if...if I had died...you...my baby..." She began to cry.

Unable to take her in his arms, Liam did his best to comfort her. He wiped her tears while speaking in a calming tone that he wouldn't let anything happen to her. That she was safe. That they would soon be home with Eleanor.

Riley tried to calm down but she shook her head. "We'll never be truly safe, will we?"

Liam paused in his assurances. He felt exhausted from the trials they continued to face. Should he now fear peace, knowing it would end horribly in some new threat?

Running a hand through his hair he spoke of what he did know. "No one is ever truly safe, my love. Even if we were locked away somewhere, accidents can happen. Sickness can strike. Bad things happen just as good ones do."

She sniffed and closed her eyes. "I know you're right," she opened her eyes and met his steady gaze. "I just wish we didn't keep having trouble."

"I do too." He cupped her cheek and softly kissed her. "All I need to know to make it through our trials is that you and Eleanor are taken care of." He struggled with swallowing. "I should have been there today to protect you."

She weakly raised her hand and caressed his cheek. "Then you might have been hurt or..." She couldn't finish that sentence. "I can't lose you, Liam."

He nodded, kissing her again. "I refuse to lose you." His words came out in a harsh whisper. "I will find who did this and will make certain they never do so again."

Riley rubbed her cheek against his hand and closed her eyes.

Liam relaxed once he saw her drift into a peaceful slumber.

"Sir?" Bastien motioned for him to step outside.

"What did you find?" Liam asked.

"The man was a hired gun from America." Bastien began. "But he was born in Auvernal."

Liam's eyes narrowed. "And who hired him?"

"King Bradshaw."

********************

Cordonia, a week later...

Riley was rocking back and forth with Eleanor sleeping in the crook of her good arm. She heard voices outside the nursery door. Curious, but unable to hold her daughter properly, she remained where she was.

A few moments later, Liam slipped quietly inside and smiled at her.

"Is she down for the night?"

"She fell asleep long ago, but I wasn’t ready to let her go." Riley let him put Eleanor in her crib. "I missed her so much. I'm so thankful to be home with you both."

"Nowhere near as much as I am." Liam wrapped his arms around her waist.

"I heard voices earlier. Is everything alright?"

He nodded. "Everything is fine."

Riley chewed on her bottom lip. "You never told me what was found about the gunman."

"There wasn't much to discover." He told her.

"Was he just some crazy person or was he hired by someone?" Riley prodded.

Liam let her go and motioned for them to leave the nursery when Eleanor made a disgruntled, sleepy noise.

"I don't want you thinking anymore about this." Liam insisted. "We are taking care of eliminating the threat."

"Eliminating?" Riley's brow furrowed. "But that means he was hired--"

"I want you to rest."

His nearly cold evasiveness alarmed her.

"Liam," she reached for his hand. "Please talk to me. I can handle whatever you have found."

Remembering how upset she was in the hospital, he averted his eyes. "We'll talk about it tomorrow."

Her lips parted to insist. She shut them when he escorted her to their chambers.

"Do you need anything?" He asked after helping her change.

"No." She murmured.

He covered her up and began to leave the room.

"Where are you going?" She sat up in surprise.

"I have somethings that require my attention in the study." He explained. "I'll be back in an hour or so."

She quietly watched him leave, feeling even more uneasy than before.

*****************

A little after three in the morning...

Riley awoke when she felt the bed dip down.

"Liam?"

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to wake you."

She checked the time. "Are you just now coming to bed?"

"Yes. It took longer than I planned." He stretched out beside her.

"What did?" She demanded, turning a lamp on.

She gasped when she noticed his bruised face and bloody knuckles.

"What happened? How did you--"

"It's nothing." He winced as he tried to get comfortable. "I'll be fine."

"Liam!" She snapped. "Talk to me." Her eyes narrowed. "Now."

"I took care of the one who tried to take you from me." He snapped back.

"So there was someone else involved?"

"Yes. And he will never have a chance to hurt anyone again." Liam declared.

Riley gently touched his face. "Liam, you didn't..."

"I wanted to." He admitted. "I was so close to beating Bradshaw to death." He closed his eyes at that memory.

It would have been so easy. A few more strikes, a quick twist and the king that had caused Liam’s world to nearly crumble would have had his last breath.

"I allowed Interpol to take him." He opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. "Olivia found all the evidence we needed to make certain the only way he will ever leave prison is to attend his own funeral."

Riley blinked back tears.

She then punched Liam in the arm.

"Riley!" He sat up when he noticed her shaking with rage. "What--"

"How could you?!" She screamed. "How could you risk your life when you already had everything in place to arrest him?!"

"He tried to kill you!" Liam yelled back. "All because we caused him embarrassment." His eyes narrowed. "Did you think I would do nothing to the man who set out to take my wife from me? Take my daughter's mother?!"

"He wasn't worth you taking a chance on him having a weapon or one of his guards kill you! What would Eleanor and I do without you here?" Tears fell, nearly blinding her. "How could you risk our family?"

All of Liam's anger disappeared at hearing that she had his own fear. Gently pulling her close he silently held her as she cried. His own tears mingled with hers as he thought of a life without her.

The sun was beginning to rise as their tears came to an end. They still held to one another, speaking in low tones of their life together. An occasional hitch in one's words caused the other to try and comfort the one temporarily unable to speak.

As light crept through the drapes, the two remained upright, still clinging to the one they loved.

Riley lifted her head off his shoulder. "Eleanor will be awake soon."

"Yes, she will." Liam pressed a kiss to his wife's forehead. "You should rest. I'll take care of her."

"I'll help you." She hugged him close with her good arm. "I don't want to be apart from either of you today."

His arms tightened around her. Unable to say all that filled his heart, he simply nodded while muttering that he didn't either.

She pressed a tender kiss to his lips and smiled. "It's a new day, my love. A new day just for us."

#choices the royal romance #choices the royal heir #liam x riley #king liam #liam x mc #trr liam #trr riley #trh liam #choices stories you play

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amariaamaris · 3 years

Text

Of Revelations and Shattering Part 2

Here’s part 2 of what was originally called Bennett’s Saviors, let me know what you think and if there is anything you would like me to add/give more detail to!

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When Klaus gets back to the mansion he gathers the heaviest and warmest blankets he can find. Klaus Mikaelson - the so-called ‘big bad wolf’ - proceeds to wrap up Bonnie Bennet - the witch that almost killed him twice - with all of the blankets. He then moves onto getting the fire going so that it can heat up the whole room.

Right as Klaus turns to check out Bonnie a rumbling overtakes the whole house as her magic force field makes itself known. He looks around the room as it eventually calms. He allows his eyes to fall to Bonnies form (which is swallowed in blankets) and he takes note that her breathing and heartbeat seems to be getting better.

Klaus allows himself to just sit, watch, and listen to make sure that the little Bennett witch will survive. He doesn’t acknowledge his brothers until they make themselves known. Elijah by walking up and carefully putting his hand to Bonnie’s forehead. While Kol stopped to the side of Klaus and dropped his hand onto Klaus’s shoulder. “Well brother... I believe the little witch will survive. She will definitely awaken changed.” Elijah stands up and faces his younger brothers, “Yes, I do believe Miss Bennett will come back changed. Only time will tell whether the change is good or not.” Kol gives a humorous snort in response while Klaus mindlessly nods his head; his focus still on the young witch.

Klaus abruptly stands up and starts moving to leave, “And where are you going brother?” Kol’s question causing Klaus to pause. “I’m going to find a nurse or doctor to compel to come help with any physical needs. After all the little witch has been comatose for at least a week.” Klaus is gone soon after leaving Kol and Elijah to exchange humorous and contemplative looks.

-------

Soon after leaving, Klaus comes in with a dazed looking nurse who immediately goes to Bonnie and starts to take care of her physical needs. Kol barely looks up from the old Grimoire that he is reading, while Elijah looks up from his book and hands Klaus a glass of bourbon; who in turn gives a nod of thanks.

They all watch as the nurse sets up an IV drip full of fluids to keep the witch hydrated and give nutrients to her starved system. The nurse carefully holds Bonnie’s wrist to check her heartbeat and mindlessly nods when it come out to a good number. Carefully the nurse covers Bonnie in the blankets again and checks her temperature.

Then the nurse just quietly sits down on an open seat; her job being done for the moment. The Mikaelson brothers use different things to occupy their time; Kol with his Grimoire’s, Elijah with old books, and Klaus with drawing. They are perfectly at ease, Bonnies magic still in its protective mode. So, they don’t have to worry about anyone uninvited entering their house.

After three hours they hear their sisters voice yelling in aggravation. They immediately drop what they are doing and speed to where their sister is. The moment Kol sees Rebekah he starts laughing. “A sister dearest, why are you so angry? Were you not the one that said you would never come back?”

Rebekah lets out an angry huff, “Did you seriously find a witch to lock me out -- no, keep my off the property?! It’s good to know how you all really feel about me!”

Klaus chuckles a bit and shakes his head trying to hide his amused smirk. “Sister, we haven’t done anything to cause this. You just have to have no ill intent and you can come through. We’ll explain to you once you come inside.” Then he grabs a still cackling Kol and speeds back inside.

Leaving Rebekah to gape after them and finally turn towards Elijah with a flabbergasted look on her face. “Elijah...?” All Elijah does is adjust his cufflinks and lightly smile at his sister. “I can’t do anything to help you Rebekah, for once I am in agreeance with what Niklaus told you. We’ll see you inside.”

Then Elijah is gone leaving Rebekah standing outside of the Mikaelson property, so shocked that she is dead still as her brain tries to catch up with the information given. She scoffs as she throws her hands up in the air and walks closer to the forcefield. She puts her hand on it and quickly pulls it away with a hiss shaking out her hand as the angry red welts heal.

Rebekah clenches her jaw and mutters to herself, “This is bloody ridiculous... Fine!” She forces herself to breathe out and let any and all the hostility she is feeling go. Then Rebekah hesitantly steps forward and the shield wraps around her with a soft, healing, loving, and strong warmth. Rebekah can feel a shiver go through her entire body at the feeling and has to shake herself once she passes through.

She speeds herself inside to where her brothers voices are coming from. “Care to explain yourselves broth-- is that the Bennett witch?”

“Yes, sister it is... what gave it away?” Rebekah gives Kol a harsh glare that causes him to mockingly throw his hands up in a sign of peace. Elijah lets out an exasperated sigh as he pinches the bridge of his nose at his younger siblings antics. He quickly explains the situation to Rebekah before Klaus can step in and make the situation worse. By the look on Klaus’s face, he knows exactly what Elijah’s true intentions are behind informing their darling sister of the situation (Elijah promptly and smoothly ignores his look).

Rebekah lets out a quite huh and looks to Bonnie’s tiny form still wrapped up in blankets. “Let me guess her rotten friends had no clue what was going on with her?” Rebekah can’t stop the scoff that escapes her, not that she was going to bother. “Of course they wouldn’t, they only bother with her when they need something from her. Bonnie Bennett deserves so much more than that, at least she was civil with me if not a little kind.” Rebekah can feel herself sneering at the thought of the rest of the scooby gang (bar Matt). “I have half the mind to kill the lot of them.” Her brothers could hear the dark violent intent in her voice and they all exchange uneasy looks.

Klaus goes to say something but Rebekah almost violently cuts him off before even a sound can escape him. “No! Nik, I don’t care if you fancy that dull blonde bimbo! I will kill her and that dull as a dishwasher doppelgänger. I still haven’t fully gotten payback for her stabbing me in the back! You don’t need those useless hybrids you have all of us! I want bloo-”

They barely see Klaus move before he is right in front of his sister with his hands firmly on her shoulders, but in a placating manner. “Rebekah! Calm yourself! Caroline was a passing fancy, I quickly lost interest in her.” He slowly drops his hands from her shoulders as Rebekah blinks in surprise, Klaus can practically feel his brothers surprise too (which he chooses to ignore).

“As for the doppelgänger, I no longer have a need for her blood. As much as I would love to kill the whole scooby gang for everything they have done... I do believe that the young Bennett witch should have a say in what happens to them. Or perhaps we could just take her away from this godforsaken town and never come back. I wouldn’t mind watching the town burn from the Salvatore's childish actions.”

Elijah steps in before his three younger siblings can start planning death and destruction. “Right now, we need to make sure that miss Bennett awakes and that she is completely healthy. We’ll have to make sure that she is stable with her magic. Miss Bennett’s hair happens to be completely white, we don’t know if that has something to do with her magic; her magic... well, we all have had run ins with how it is at the moment.”

Klaus’s eyes immediately flick to Bonnie and narrow upon seeing that she is shivering as her eyes flicker beneath the lids. He speeds over to her and crouches down next to her and intently listens to her breathing and heartrate. He frowns as he notices that her heartbeat is faster as well as her breathing. He goes to call for the compelled nurse, but is stopped by Ayana’s voice.

“My descendant is physically perfectly healthy, you can allow the nurse to go.” The Mikaelson siblings immediately move to face Ayana as she softly smiles at all of them. “Thank you for helping Bonnie. Right now she is in a comatose state allowing for her to see everything from a very different perspective, get her full potential of magic... and to learn just how connected she is to a certain person...” Ayana’s eyes flicker to Klaus and rest on him for a few moments, then she looks away.

Ayana walks towards Bonnie’s body and studies her for a few moments as the siblings silently watch on. “She’ll be awakening soon,” Ayana looks towards the siblings. “she will be in a state, you’ll want to give her space and try to help her calm down. I know that you have all lost the art of truly being able to comfort one another...” Ayana gives them all a soft, loving, understanding smile “Human touch can go a long way to help comfort, as long as its not crowding the person.”

Then she’s gone, leaving Rebekah reeling and the brothers all contemplating. Rebekah allows herself to collapse onto the couch behind her. While Klaus keeps watch over Bonnie, not even realizing that his wolf has come out in his eyes.

His siblings take notice right away and exchange knowing looks. That quickly turn to warning looks when they notice the mischief and amusement in Kol’s eyes. Kol just grins at them and before they can do anything else... a rumble takes over the whole house.

When it stops it feels as though all the air was sucked out of the room and it’s dead still. It causes all of the siblings to straighten and come to attention while Klaus closely watches Bonnie with sharp eyes. Then the feeling disappears as Bonnie shoots upwards with a sharp scream. That quickly tapers out into a whimper and hyperventilation as her magic starts wiping around. Bonnie barely has time to process that she is surrounded by Mikaelson’s before she's tightly wrapped up in Klaus’s arms.

She finds herself clutching tightly to his arms as she closes her eyes with tears running down her face. Everything she has learned and everything that Bonnie’s ancestors have shown her are running rampant in her mind. While her body feels like it is burning from the inside out from the amount of magic that is now inside of her. Her ears are ringing and she can’t seem to catch her breath, it feels as though she is being choked. Bonnie’s hands detach from Klaus arms as she starts to claw at her neck. She vaguely hears him say “Bloody hell!” then she is being wrestled into a different type of hold.

With her back against his chest and Klaus tightly holding her arms as it feels as though he wraps himself around her. He starts whispering calming words into her ear as he rocks her to help her get control of her breathing. His siblings watch on in shock and horror, they couldn’t believe what they were seeing.

Bonnie, the strong Bennett witch that seemed to never falter or become scared. Had awoken and she is caught in a vicious panic attack causing her to claw at her throat. Rebekah looks worriedly at the small Bennett witch, mindlessly acknowledging that Klaus’s eyes are back to his wolf.

Bonnie knows that she should be fighting to get out of his embrace and away from all of the Mikaelsons… but for the first time in her life she truly feels safe. Even though she had just woken up from a how long coma? She could feel herself losing energy and quickly fading. The panic attack was taking a toll on her and against her will she could feel her eyes slowly fluttering to sleep. Bonnie feels her body go lax as she falls into a deep peaceful sleep. Not yet realizing that this sleep is meant to integrate the changes to her body, mind, soul, and powers.

All of the Mikaelson’s exchange shaken looks then Klaus moves Bonnie around in a way where he can bring her to his bedroom. He speeds off with her before any of them can question where he is taking her. Elijah turns toward the nurse, “You will not remember any of this, you took time off for yourself and had a wonderful time.” she repeats his words, gathers her things, and then leaves.

-------

Bonnie awakens in a room she has never seen before she feels a shock of fear run up her spine; causing her to freeze. As she looks around the room, everything comes back to her, her memories of why she is at the Mikaelson’s mansion, and everything that her ancestors showed her. Bonnie allows herself the time to get a hold of her breathing and relax herself. Once she finally calms, she slowly, carefully stands up from the unnaturally comfy bed.

Once she’s standing, Bonnie takes the time to really study the space that she is in and automatically takes notice that it has a much more masculine look to it. Everything is either dark or neutral tones, with a huge fireplace, big windows, and an oversized bathro--. Bonnie’s jaw drops as she walks into the bathroom. Who needs this big of a bathroom? It could fit Bonnie’s room and bathroom in it!

Right as she was about to turn to head back into the bedroom, Bonnie took notice of her body screaming for relief. She quickly rushed to the toilet and allowed herself to relax as her body found the relief it was screaming for. After Bonnie flushed and washed her hands she started to leave the bathroom.

She came to a quick halt and whipped around to face the mirror. The gasp that escaped her caused her to slap her hand over her mouth. Bonnie couldn’t believe her eyes! Her hair is white! Bonnie allowed herself to carefully touch it and run her fingers through it. As she watched herself touch her hair in the mirror she took notice of her eyes. The green in them looked even more otherworldly that they originally did. They look unnatural, Bonnie moves further away from the mirror to start looking at the rest of her body.

Nothing else seemed to have changed, everything physically was the same except for her hair and eyes. Her hair looks completely different and it’s not just because of the rapid color change... It looks wild, but Bonnie finds that she likes it that way... it matches her inner change perfectly; the same thing can be said for her eyes.

Bonnie lets out a quiet sigh as she walks back into the bedroom and as she once again look around at it. Bonnie gets a deep knowing inside of her that this is Klaus’s bedroom. Bonnie knows that it should bother her, but it doesn’t; not even a little bit. Bonnie slightly opens the blackout curtain just enough to look outside, after seeing that the sun it up she lets the curtain go. Bonnie sighs, knowing that she can’t hide in Klaus’s room any longer and she walks to the door.

Once she slips out and starts to make her way through the house, Bonnie quickly takes note of where the voices are coming from and quietly pads down the long spiral stairs. As Bonnie gets closer to the voices her padding turns into tiptoeing. She doesn’t know what she is supposed to say to the Mikaelson’s… should she thank them? Or should she apologize for doing the things that she did to them and helped the others do to them?

When she finally gets up the courage to walk into the room Bonnie is shocked to see all of them (except Kol) moving around each other and making what Bonnie assumes to be brunch. Klaus is the first to take notice of her (ever since he felt her wake up he has been hyper aware of her every move). “Little witch, good to see that your awake.” His words bring Elijah, Rebekah, and Kol to take notice of her.

Bonnie gives a wavering smile and goes to speak, but finds it come out as more of a croak. It causes Bonnie to cough at the unnatural feeling. Which also makes her take notice of the fact that 1. her throat is parched and 2. she has completely lost her voice. She reaches a hand up to rub her throat when she quickly drops it with a hiss of pain. Bonnie vaguely remembers taking notice of red welts on her neck, but she was to distracted by her hair and eyes to really take notice.

Bonnie is surprised by Klaus handing her a cup of water, which she carefully takes from him with a small smile of thanks. “Come now darling, how about you sit down. You seem to be swaying a bit little witchling.” Bonnie blinks a few times at Kol and then glares at him for his witchling comment, but she does sit down... three seats away from him. Causing Kol to give her a playful offended look, Bonnie starts a bit when Rebekah appears out of nowhere with a whiteboard and dry-erase markers.

“Miss Bennett, what all do you remember?” Bonnie’s eyes land on Elijah upon hearing the question. She studies him a bit and slowly drops her eyes to the whiteboard. Bonnie allows herself to marinate in all of the information in her head. She settles for uncapping the marker and simply writing EVERYTHING. She shows it to them causing them all to show different levels of acceptance through their body language.

Bonnie erases what she wrote and picks up the marker again. She can’t stop the uncomfortable fidgeting and hesitation in writing what she is feeling. The siblings notice her hesitation right away. “Love, just write what you are wanting to write. We aren’t in any place to judge you.” Bonnie’s eyes catch Klaus’s and she can feel a blush trying to work its way onto her face. She quickly looks back down at the whiteboard and her now white hair curtains her face. With her hair blocking them from looking at her face she quickly scribbles her question.

Did my friends even notice or care what was happening to be? DON’T LIE.

The look on the siblings faces reinforces everything she was shown. She can feel tears prick her eyes. Bonnie can feel a the hard lump in her throat return, the one that has been there since the supernatural bullshit started. She can also feel the fight or flight response trying to take over, but just like her emotions; she swallows the feeling down.

She misses the dark looks that come upon the Mikaelson’s faces as she focuses on erasing what she wrote. Bonnie takes a long drink from her water and takes that time to harden her resolve. She writes one last thing before she closes up the marker, grabs the class of water, and leaves the kitchen. Klaus reaches for the board to read what she wrote. What he reads causes him to clench his jaw so hard that he was sure a couple of his teeth broke. His siblings all have a bad feeling upon seeing his eyes go gold as his vampire visage ripples across his face.

He tosses the whiteboard on the kitchen table and is gone before either of his siblings can react. When they read what she wrote they all have varying reactions: Kol gets a wickedly violent look in his eyes, Elijah’s only physical reaction is his hands clenching, and Rebekah looks ready to slaughter someone or multiple someone's (the scooby gang minus Matt). The writing?

Keep them away from me, I don’t want to see any of them. I don’t care what you have to do, keep them away. I’m done.

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I hope you enjoyed! As always, constructive criticism is welcome! Let me know if you want a third part!

Peace, Love, and Joy!

#klaus mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #kol mikaelson #bonnie bennett #rebekah mikaelson #hurtcomfort #protective mikaelsons

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dearlazerbunny · 5 years

Text

Lie to Me (Ch. 20 of 28)

Pairings: Loki x Reader

Genre/Ratings: M eventually (aiming for a slow burn here); warnings for kidnapping and subsequent anxiety/PTSD (will be marked before every chapter)

Words: 1700

Summary: If you had to guess what the captured, traitor, trickster god Loki Laufeyson wanted or needed at this moment, a babysitter would be far, far down on the list. (Set after the events of Avengers 1.)

SHOUTOUT TO @molmcb and @jessiejunebug, who have achieved golden thrones in whatever afterlife they deem worth enough to house their awesomeness for all eternity

Requested Tags: @deraniel, @iamverity, @yasnooshka24, @wegingerangelica, @themusingsofmany, @dark-night-sky-99, @tarynkauai, @stuffandstuff-stuff, @angelicshinigami, @my-current-fandom-is, @geekysimmerthings, @lokis-butter-knife

WARNING: mentions of extreme anxiety

There’s a very annoying beeping somewhere to your left, and it simply will not shut up.

At first you think it’s your alarm, and you move to shut it off, but then you find moving to be very, very difficult. Excruciatingly so. Everything is burning and also sore at the same time, and something is making it hard to breathe…

You open your eyes. Everything is white for a moment, blinding you, but it eventually recedes into something more tolerable. Only just, though, your eyes hurt along with the rest of you. You’re tucked into a bed, a sheet pulled over your chest, with various machines tapped into the crook of your arms. They itch, but you can’t scratch them. There’s also a murmuring to your right, and when you look over you have a hard time processing what you’re seeing.

Loki, in a plain metal chair, handcuffed in those same weird manacles he’s always restrained by. There’s a gash on his cheekbone that’s faded to almost nothing. His hair is a mess like you’ve never seen it, his clothes- his armor, not the prison uniform- are disheveled and… bloody? It’s hard to tell with the black leather. His eyes are closed and he’s murmuring things in a language you can’t understand, but it seems awfully familiar… “Are you… praying?” You try to say, but the words get muffled by something.

Loki’s eyes snap open, though. You’ve made enough noise to get his attention. For a moment, he stares at you like you’re the answer to every question Aristotle ever asked- wait, wrong culture- and you look back at him for help, confused, hoping your eyes will talk for you since you can’t seem to speak.

Loki bangs on the window behind him with a heavy fist, and you wince at the noise. He looks at you apologetically. A second later, Thor comes rushing in, disheveled in a similar manner. What the heck happened…? “Is the lady awake?” He asks frantically, and you try to say yes of course you’re awake, why were you asleep in the first place-? But again, everything gets garbled.

Thor reaches for something- your face- and panic washes through you so strongly you startle hard enough to jerk the bed. Tears flood your eyes- what are you doing? This is Thor, he’s not going to hurt you. But your body doesn’t seem to get the memo, trembling like it has a mind of its own.

The god hesitates, something sad in his eyes, then starts in a little slower. “I am sorry, my lady. I do not mean to frighten you. I only want to help…” gently, he tugs a plastic mask off of your mouth and nose. You hold absolutely still, only releasing your breath when he’s backed up a few feet.

“Thor?” You croak. Your voice sounds horrific. “What-”

“Shh. You are safe.” Safe from what? “How much do you remember?”

Loki’s gaze on you is fierce and draws your eye to him. “I…” flashes race through your head. Pain. Screaming. Loki, standing over you, fury in his eyes, magic crackling around his unbound hands- your eyes widen. “Oh my god- oh my-” The beeping to your left gets faster as your heart rate ratchets up a thousand paces. They took you. They- they tortured you, oh god, it hurt so bad- something closes around your wrist, cool and solid, and this time you don’t flinch. Because you know that hand. It had held your own until you slipped in and out of unconsciousness, flirting with death.

“Witling,” Loki says softly. “Focus on me.” You do so, blinking away tears. “Breathe. You’re going to be alright, darling. You are safe,” he says firmly, and you nod, because if you’re going to believe anyone right now it’s him.

There are a lot of doctors and nurses who filter in wanting to look at you, wanting to give you this and that, pills or syringes full of mysterious clear liquid that immediately makes you suspicious. But Thor is standing in the corner, arms crossed, watching everything. He won’t let you get hurt. So whenever they push another syringe into the tubing connected to your arm, you simply look at Loki rather than whatever they’re doing to you. He never lets go of your wrist, though he does eventually take your hand when a particularly sharp pain flares through you, making you grab for him. The words don’t stop either- some are in English, some Norwegian, some Asgardian (you assume), but all have the same connotation: I’m here, you’re safe, I’ve got you, we’ve got you. Everything is going to be okay.

The doctors talk about very scary things with passive and emotionless voices. You suppose that’s their job, but you can’t help but tighten your grip on Loki’s fingers when they casually explain your concussion, your broken ribs, a shattered ankle… the list goes on. Eventually, you close your eyes and tune them out, choosing instead to listen to the comfort spilling from the man at your side.

“Loki,” Thor says softly. “You need to change clothes, brother. And attend to- your other business.”

“I’m not going to-”

“Brother.” Thor’s voice is a warning. “I will stay with her. She is safe with me.”

He looks at you reluctantly, considering. “I will be right back,” he says, and you nod as he leaves with one last careful squeeze of your fingers.

Once the door closes, you waste no time. “Thor, what happened? I don’t remember everything, and he- he’s not going to tell me, I don’t think.”

Thor doesn’t argue with you. “I think he does not want to scare you any further,” he says. Then he tells the tale. How they watched you get taken, and when Loki found out he demanded he be let out to go to you. You had been missing for three days at that point. A lot of damage done. He glosses over the battle part, which is fine with you, skipping to where Loki found you huddled in the closet, and then-

“I shot you?” You shriek, a little hysterical, when Loki comes back into the room.

He immediately gives his brother a hard look before resuming his place at your side. “It is not that bad, Witling. Asgardians heal very quickly.” From underneath his tunic you can see clean bandages wrapping his shoulder.

“I- I still-”

“You were out of your mind with pain and fear,” he corrects. “You were only doing what the situation demanded.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“I would rather have you alive and a few new scars than the alternative.”

And that was the end of that.

The next hurdle was preventing you from ripping out your own IVs when they wanted to give you something for pain. “Please don’t,” you beg, knowing the medicine will only make you sleep, and that makes you defenseless, and that means you’re in danger. The fact that you have two gods in the room hell-bent on protecting you isn’t even a thought in your mind. Not even Loki’s gentle coaxing can get you to calm down this time.

“I have an idea,” Thor says, and returns with Mjolnir around one wrist. Loki is immediately on edge, but Thor holds out his hand. “Peace, brother. Wait and see. May I?” He offers you Mjolnir, and you’re confused, but then he goes to the other side of your bed and gently unfolds the hand not clinging to his brother. Mjolnir goes head-down into your open palm. It’s surprisingly not heavy at all- just a slight pressure. “Now, you are not going anywhere.” You actually grin when you realize his plan. You know only someone worthy can lift the hammer- so even if someone wanted to snatch you from your bed, they wouldn’t be able to pull you out from under Mjolnir.

“Thank you,” you giggle, still wondering at the fact that you’re basically holding an ancient, all-powerful hammer that you’ve studied all your life in the palm of your hand. You almost ask someone to take a picture. Trickster visibly relaxes at your laughter, and Thor claps him on the shoulder. “I will leave her in your care,” he says, and then the two of you are alone.

You’re still anxious waiting for the drug to get into your system, so you ask what you’ve been dying to know: “how the hell did you get SHIELD to let you loose?”

“There may have been a few threatening tirades involved,” he admits. “And Thor lobbied on my behalf. Once you were safe I agreed to any conditions they required to let me stay here.” He raises his hands a little to gesture to the handcuffs. “Mysteriously, they could not seem to find the silencing mask,” he says, looking at you carefully.

“How strange,” you offer, but then you grin. You’d hidden it in an air vent so they couldn’t use it again.

“I am afraid I may have rubbed off on you, Witling.”

“I don’t think that’s the worst thing to happen to me, considering,” you say wryly.

“I am so very sorry, darling. None of this would have happened if not for me. And then I did not get to you sooner…” the guilt in his voice is horrible. You wouldn’t even need to know him well to see that he’s persecuting himself for what happened.

You shake your head slowly, so you don’t make anything hurt. “It’s not your fault, Loki. The fact that you even came for me at all is incredible.”

“Of course I came for you. Did you think that I would not?”

“I mean, I’d hoped Thor would. But you were in a cell, I wasn’t going to expect the impossible from you. And I doubt anyone else really would have cared.”

“Hush. You would be severely missed.”

By now your head is drooping from the medicine coursing through your system. “You would have missed me?” You ask sleepily, and tuck your head down into your pillow so you can fall asleep.

You don’t quite catch the words he says in response, too intent on letting unconsciousness pull you into its grip.

A/N: whoever can write the best line for Loki at the end (where Reader doesn’t hear what he says) gets the next chapter gets a prize! A ficlet, a request, next chapter preview, whatever!

Comment down below! I wanna see what y’all come up with :D

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ofcrofts · 4 years

Text

『JOE KEERY ❙ CIS MALE』 ⟿ looks like ELVIE CROFT is here for HIS FIRST GRAD year as a LAW student. HE is 23 years old & known to be LOYAL, OPEN-MINDED, SCATTERBRAINED & OBSTREPEROUS. they’re living in NOLAND, so if you’re there, watch out for them. ⬳ SAM. 23. EST. SHE/HER.

hey there demons! *ba dum tss* i’m sam and elvie is one of my favorite muses, so i hope you like him too and please feel free to message me if you would like to plot!

i. stats

𝖋𝖚𝖑𝖑 𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖊: elvin tupelo croft

𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖋𝖊𝖗𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖊𝖘: el, elvie, the ghost guy

𝖍𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖙𝖔𝖜𝖓: salem, massachusetts yes, really

𝖉𝖆𝖙𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖇𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖍: october 31, 1996 yes, really

𝖟𝖔𝖉𝖎𝖆𝖈: scorpio

𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓: demisexual

𝖋𝖎𝖊𝖑𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝖘𝖙𝖚𝖉𝖞: law

𝖕𝖔𝖘. 𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖙𝖘: loyal, open - minded, exuberant.

𝖓𝖊𝖌. 𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖙𝖘: scatterbrained, obstreperous, impulsive.

ii. history

elvin tupelo “elvie” croft was born in salem massachusetts ( yes, really ) on halloween day ( yes, really ). he’s an only child and his dad is the county district attorney while his mom owns a small local business that sells witchcraft supplies such as crystals, herbs, grimiores, etc. fun fact: she’s the descendant of an accused witch, meaning that elvie is as well.

he was five years old when he saw his first horror movie ( an apathetic teenage babysitter let him stay up long past his bedtime to watch nightmare on elm street ) and from that moment on he was hooked.

when he started school, two things about him became apparent: 1) he was highly intelligent and 2) he struggled greatly with tasks such as sitting still and staying focused. he was tested, and it turns out that he has a through the roof genius level iq and he also has adhd, which he was put on a few different medications for until something finally seemed to work for him.

he could have been one of those child prodigies who finished high school at the age of ten and then college at the age of fourteen, but his parents decided that they didn’t want him to miss out on the experience of going through school with people his own age.

as the smartest kid in class with glasses and braces and a strong obsession with all things horror and halloween, he…was picked on. mercilessly.

he didn’t really have friends, but he also didn’t mind. he was perfectly content to go right home after school and spend the rest of the day reading comic books or watching horror movies or researching local urban legends and paranormal stories.

he started his youtube channel when he was a teenager and it was…trash honestly. it was basically buzzfeed unsolved if buzzfeed unsolved consisted of one ( 1 ) dorky teenager yelling at the air in the middle of abandoned house at 3am could be two if his wc gets picked up wink wink, but it turned out that people found it entertaining. his first few videos were flops, but he would soon start amassing subscribers in the hundreds, then thousands, then hundreds of thousands.

so, when he got to his senior year of high school, he was a shoe - in to become the class valedictorian and he was even getting ivy league offers. at the same time, his youtube channel was starting to gain momentum. his parents mainly his father were really pushing him to attend college and elvie, genius level iq and all…didn’t want to go at all. he wanted to focus on his youtube channel, but his dad was absolutely not having it.

he was pre law at harvard while he was an undergrad but when it came time to start law school, he’d had enough of simply doing what his dad wanted and decided to go to radcliffe and he chose to do so solely because he heard it was haunted. he’s even living in noland because he figures that the oldest building = highest likelihood of ghosts.

this is his first year and second semester at radcliffe. he can usually be found not studying, smoking weed, and probably trying to get the campus witch to go out with him.

iii. extras

his name is elvin but basically no one ever calls him that. his own parents don’t even particularly like the name. long story. most people call him elvie and some who are super close to him just call him el.

while he is the “ryan” aka the believer of his youtube series, he’s definitely NOT a scaredy cat like ryan the poor guy. in fact, all his life there’s been this running joke that he doesn’t seem to be afraid of anything, and who knows? maybe he isn’t.

he’s kinda...acing all of his classes without even trying because he’s honestly just that smart but i cannot stress enough that he absolutely does not give a fuck about his classes. he HATES law school. he probably ditches as often as he can, but he doesn’t really push it because y’know attendance points.

he’s literally embarrassed of the fact that he went to harvard so he straight up lies and says that he went to salem state

he has slight Daddy Issues™. slight. when he was born, his dad was hoping that he would get a star athlete kid who would go on to follow in his footsteps and one day become a successful, respectable lawyer but instead he got…elvie. he’s never outright said that he’s disappointed but he didn’t need to. elvie’s a really difficult person to rattle but every time, without fail, he ends a phone call with his dad and he’s in a bad mood for the rest of the day.

he smokes A LOT of weed. like, A LOT OF WEED. like…A LOT of weed. he started off doing it every once in a while as a teenager, and now he’s always high. 99% of people he knows have most likely never seen or interacted with him when he wasn’t high.

he’s obsessed with all things horror, halloween, and 80s. he makes a lot of film references that are often so obscure that most people don’t even catch them.

he’s got jokes. lots of jokes. lots of self - deprecating jokes.

has a really thick boston accent that he doesn’t seem to realize he has.

most people don’t know how smart he really is because he intentionally plays dumb and he’s really good at it. being high all the time and his natural chaotic energy is quite helpful in hiding his intelligence. he just doesn’t like to be seen as smart, so the whole brilliant law student thing? not common knowledge whatsoever.

and yes, he has SO MUCH chaotic energy. he’s the kind of person who will stick a fork in his microwave just to see what would happen out of sheer boredom. he has two pet mexican redknee tarantulas that probably aren’t even allowed on campus named freddy and jason who he just…fucking loses track of every other day. his favorite drink is literally black coffee mixed together with a can of monster energy and 5 ( f i v e ) teaspoons of sugar. he is c h a o s. he has absolutely no impulse control whatsoever.

his car is this PIECE OF JUNK giant turquoise van that he painted to look like the mystery machine

he suffers from chronic nosebleeds that are usually triggered by stress, but he doesn’t get them that often.

he has a HUGE sweet tooth. his favorite food is halloween candy and his favorite candy is black licorice disgusting i know

he takes adderall for his adhd and it’s basically the only thing he’s really consistent and responsible about.

he’s good at…a lot of things because he’s a really fast learner. he can play the guitar, he can draw, he did drama in high school. he just has to watch someone do something once and then he can usually immediately do it himself. this skill doesn’t extend to physical activities such as sports, however. he’s terrible at those.

iv. wanted connections

best friend

friends

cousin ( their grandparents would probably be from boston but otherwise anything really goes for this )

smoking buddies lmao

people who don’t like him / find him annoying

peers he tutors for some extra money

maybe someone who knows how smart he really is

exes, etc.

( these are just ideas and i’m trash at coming up with these, so please don’t feel limited by what’s listed here. )

#radintro #drugs tw #medication tw

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vexedtonightmares · 5 years

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last dance (elu ballet au) chapter dix

Lucas is in his final year at the Paris Opera Ballet School and he’ll be damned if he lets his former friend-turned-rival Eliott steal the lead role in their production of Swan Lake.

aka- lucas and eliott are rivals who are forced to room together for their final year of ballet school before they try to enter the company. we can all see where this is going.

i. ii. iii. iv. v. vi. vii. viii. ix. x.

ao3

**tw: eating disorders/ idealization of disordered eating**

Jeudi 15:33

Imane and Lucas were taking a break while the director ran through a few things with Manon and Eliott that they, the understudies, didn’t need to be a part of. She was studying him carefully as they stretched side by side, and he pretended not to notice. He had no idea why she was watching him as such, but it couldn’t mean anything good.

Eliott looked so beautiful as he danced, Lucas could hardly keep his eyes off him. Technically, he was supposed to avoid looking at Eliott at all costs, but watching him practice had to be an exception. He didn’t get as hot and bothered when he was focusing on how Eliott was dancing, so that’s what he did.

Lucas had always envied Eliott’s turn out, even when they were kids. His turn out rivaled even Manon’s, and hers was so spectacular that she could nearly rotate her entire leg so her calf faced upward when she held her leg up in a la seconde. Lucas had worked for years on his turn out and, while it was pretty good, he’d never be anywhere near where Eliott was naturally. He allowed himself to be annoyed by it now, only because he knew he could get extra kisses from his annoyance later.

He watched the veins of Eliott’s arms as he extended them out to Manon before lifting her and continuing with their choreography. They were pronounced enough that they flexed through his skin slightly with each movement, drawing Lucas’ gaze up and down his arms. So much for not getting hot and bothered by watching Eliott dance.

“I wasn’t going to say anything, but what the hell is going on with you?” Imane asked in a low hiss.

Lucas dragged his gaze away sharply, hoping his cheeks weren’t as red as he assumed they were. “What are you talking about?”

She sighed like he was the biggest idiot in the world. “First you go off on Eliott at that party, then you disappear for days, then Manon says you’re acting all optimistic and sappy, both of which are so not you—”

He opened his mouth to argue but she held a hand up, silencing him before he could even get a word in.

“—Yann says you haven’t talked to him at all since the party, you’re not spending all your time in the studio for extra practice, you look like you’ve actually been sleeping, and you keep glaring at Manon and Eliott like they ran over your puppy or something. I know you hate Eliott, we all know, but come on. Weren’t things getting better between you two recently?” she finished with an exasperated breath.

Well, at least his lovesick staring was interpreted as glaring. He’d been so sure Imane had been onto his and Eliott’s relationship. She was pretty smart, after all, and not as oblivious as he wished she would be sometimes. Maybe he was better at hiding his love than he thought he was, which was another cause for celebration.

He mulled over what to say in his head, knowing that no matter what Imane probably wouldn’t be satisfied. “I’ve been really behind on our online classwork, hence why I was MIA all weekend. Also I was sick, just a small bug I guess, because I’m better now. As for yelling at Eliott at the party… I don’t know what to say, he deserved it. Yes, I was a little bit drunk, but he’s an asshole, so…”

“Lucas please, we’ve talked about this,” Imane groaned.

He glared at her. “You were the one who asked, if you didn’t want me to profess my hatred for Eliott, you should have let it be.” It was thrilling, in a small way, to talk about Eliott as if he wasn’t head over heels for him. Part of him felt a little bad he was keeping up this ruse, but they’d both decided it would be easier to hide their relationship if everyone thought they still hated each other. Or, that Lucas still hated Eliott, because apparently it had never quite gone both ways. “Things will never get better between us, I’m just riding the rest of the year out and hoping to end up in a company that he’s not in.”

That was a lie, a bit fat lie. All he’d been thinking about recently was him and Eliott joining a company together, falling a little more in love every day and supporting each other through it all. What a dream it would be to live together outside of the school, going on dates or just staying in bed all day on their days off without anyone interrupting them.

Imane didn’t look entirely convinced, but she let it go. “I’m just worried about you, Lucas.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Oh yeah?” he asked with a small smirk.

“Shut up.” She nudged him with her foot, rolling her eyes. “I’m allowed to be worried about you.”

“Because you love me and you care about me?” he prompted, fluttering his eyelashes.

“I’m not even dignifying that with a response.”

He leaned closer to her grinning widely and posing with his hands under his chin. “Because I’m your best bud?”

She scoffed. “We are not best buds.”

“We so are.”

“The gay guy and the muslim. Best. Buds.”

“Not a chance,” she said with a small smile. Lucas met her eyes and the two of them laughed together, hiding their mouths with their hands so as to not draw attention and get kicked out of class. She sighed once their laughter had subsided. “Ok, fine. We’re buds.”

“Best buds?”

“Don’t push your luck dingbat.”

Lucas laughed so hard that he had to pretend he was having a coughing attack, Eliott catching his eye halfway through, biting his lip to keep from laughing as well. Lucas rolled his eyes at his boyfriend, fond smile working its way over his face. Forcing himself to focus back on Imane, he coughed one last time. “Dingbat is a new one.”

She wiggled her eyebrows mischievously. “There’s plenty more where that came from.”

“I don’t doubt that for a second,” he agreed. The director called them back up to participate a moment later, and not a moment too soon because Lucas was mere seconds away from either bursting into another fit of laughter or staring Eliott down despite the promises he made to himself.

Eliott was probably going to be the death of him, but he found that he didn’t mind going out this way. He’d die a thousand times for Eliott’s smile.

Samedi 18:21

Lucas and Eliott had been in the studio all day working on Polaris. Since Eliott had asked him to compose, Lucas had been anxious to begin, even if he still had some doubts about his composition skills. So far he’d played a variety of melodies until Eliott heard something he liked, then built off that. He had no idea if this was how composition was supposed to work, but Eliott’s excitement was contagious.

“Not to be gay, but if you don’t come over here and kiss me in the next two seconds I might explode,” Lucas said from the piano bench, watching Eliott go over various phrases he’d created, trying to match and adapt them to the meoldy Lucas had been working on.

Eliott paused and raised his eyebrows, but came closer until he was standing above where Lucas was sitting down. He leaned down, whispering softly to Lucas before bringing their lips together. “Why would you say ‘not to be gay’ and then do just that?”

Lucas broke away from the kiss, pouting. “I can’t help being gay around you.”

“Can you ever?”

“Yes. I could totally pretend I was straight if I wanted to, you’re just lucky I don’t want to.”

Eliott hummed, leaning back in. “Lucky indeed.”

Lucas opened his mouth to invite Eliott in further, leaning back unconsciously until he was lying down on the piano bench, Eliott hovering over him, still locked in a passionate embrace. Lucas pulled him closer still, never getting enough of Eliott. He didn’t think he ever would, he’d always crave everything that Eliott was, a hunger never satisfied.

Thinking about hunger, he realized that the two of them had been working so long they’d completely forgotten to eat. A part of Lucas was satisfied, glad that Eliott wasn’t watching over him like a fragile piece of glass that might break under pressure anymore, and another part felt guilty. He shoved that part down, choosing instead to focus back in on the taste of Eliott, the way his hands moved from Lucas’ hair to his face, to his ribcage, to—

A loud thud sounded as Eliott’s hand slipped off the edge of the narrow piano bench and he tumbled to the ground, nearly taking Lucas with him. Lucas sat up, looking stunned down at him on the ground. Eliott gazed back up at him for a second before Lucas burst into laughter. Eliott frowned up at him.

“Really?” he demanded, but the corners of his mouth twitched. Lucas laid back down on the bench, this time on his stomach so he could look down at Eliott. He was still laughing, body bouncing up and down with each inhale and exhale. Eliott reached up with one hand and Lucas laced their fingers together, closing his eyes to the simple bliss of holding hands with the boy he loved until he felt Eliott pulling him and he slid off the bench, onto Eliott.

“Really?” he mimicked, but now Eliott was laughing too. “Why is that your go to move?” he asked, giggling and pressing his head into Eliott’s chest. He shifted so he was straddling Eliott, lifting his head and fixing Eliott with a desire filled gaze. Eliott’s laughs subsided and his eyes softened, neck stretching up as Lucas bent back down, meeting each other halfway.

There was nothing in the world Lucas wouldn’t do with Eliott, and he intended to start now. Just as Eliott placed his hands underneath Lucas’ shirt, fingers tracing the lines of his ribcage lightly, the door to the studio rattled. It must have been the director coming to do studio checks.

Lucas scrambled off Eliott, both of them standing up and gathering up their things. They could hear a voice on the other side of the door and they panicked. Their allotted studio time was supposed to have ended a few hours ago, and they’d be in trouble if anyone found them in there past when the studio had been booked.

Eliott nodded to the only other door in the room, the door to the closet that held the studio cleaning supplies, weights, thera bands, and anything else anyone might need for practice. Lucas didn’t spare a moment, grabbing Eliott’s outstretched hand and letting himself be led into the small enclosed space. They’d barely closed the door behind them when the director walked in.

Only… it wasn’t the director. It was Manon and Daphné. Lucas squinted through the slatted gaps in the door, allowing them to see out— barely so— but not allowing anyone to see in. Lucas groaned internally, they’d be stuck there all night. Daphné and Manon had both been freaking out about getting extra practice time earlier in the week, so of course they’d had to choose the one studio Eliott and Lucas had been using.

Eliott tapped his fingers on Lucas’ wrist, looking at him questioningly. Lucas sighed dramatically as he could without making a sound and nodded to Eliott’s phone, pulling his own out.

Lucas: We’re going to be stuck in here a while

Eliott: i don’t mind ;)))

Lucas: :)

Eliott: just a smiley ? :((

Lucas: Ha, sorry

Eliott: u good lu?

Lucas snapped his head up, catching the way Eliott’s eyes were illuminated by the light of his phone. It wasn’t the first time Eliott had called him Lu, but it was the first time since they’d gotten over themselves and gotten together for real. It struck a chord in his heart, making heat rise to his cheeks, almost making him forget the fact they were stuck in a dark, small closet.

Eliott frowned, raising his eyebrows and nodding down to his phone. There was so much earnest in the way Eliott looked at him, and it was exactly what Lucas needed at that moment.

Lucas: Yeah

Lucas: Just a little uncomfortable is all

Eliott: oh? i can try to move a bit

Lucas: No, no, that’s not why

Eliott: are u claustrophobic ??

Lucas: No

Eliott met Lucas’ gaze again, question in his eyes. Lucas didn’t want to say it out loud, or over text, because Eliott would probably laugh, and then Manon and Daphné would find them and they’d have a lot of questions to answer. Also, who was scared of the dark at his age?

Eliott: lu…

Lucas: It’s nothing, let’s just see how much longer man and daph are going to be

Eliott: bs

Eliott: u don’t have to tell me, i guess, but i don’t want u to be uncomfortable :(

Lucas: Please, Eli

Grudgingly, Eliott put away his phone, leaning his head back against the side of the closet. Their legs were somewhat entangled, knees pulled up, and Lucas tried to focus on that instead of the overwhelming darkness. His phone timed out and turned off, causing him to stiffen involuntarily, turning it back on in a hurry. Eliott caught the movement eyes going wide as he brought his phone back out.

Eliott: you’re still afraid of the dark

Lucas: No I’m not

Eliott: yes u are

Lucas: Please don’t laugh

Eliott: why would i laugh?

Lucas: Because you always used to laugh about it

Eliott: i’m very mature now, i’ll have u know

Lucas: You pulled me into a fountain

Eliott: only after you pushed me!

Lucas: Yes, but I never claimed to be mature

Eliott: … fair

Lucas snickered quietly, earning him a light kick from Eliott. He bit his lip, shrugging and pretending he had no idea why Eliott was glaring at him.

Eliott: ok so u can laugh at me then?

Lucas: Yes, it’s outlined in the rules of our relationship

Eliott: before or after ‘lucas gets no kisses if he laughs at eliott’

Lucas: *gasp* You wouldn’t.

Eliott: …

Lucas: Ok, fine, I take back my laughter

Eliott: :)))

Lucas: Idiot

Lucas: Why do I love you again?

Eliott: you love me?

Shit, had he really just texted that? He’d wanted the first time he said it to be, preferably, not over text while hiding in a supply closet. Literally anywhere else. Eliott wouldn’t meet his eyes, watching his phone like it held the answers to the secrets of the universe.

“Yes,” Lucas whispered, voice low enough that the music from outside covered it, “I love you, Eliott.”

His brain didn’t tell him too fast too fast too fast, it didn’t tell him that Eliott didn’t actually love him back, despite saying so, it didn’t tell him that he was all alone. Instead it was bursting with love and light, thinking about them, their future, the ways Eliott’s eyes told him that he would always have a home with him, the way a brushing of their hands communicated so much more than a faint touch. It didn’t scare him anymore, and he figured if he could find someone to help him get over his fear of being unloved and abandoned, he could get over his fear of the dark with the same person.

Eliott: i love you too

Eliott: but you already knew that

Lucas: Eh, doesn’t hurt to hear it a few more times

Eliott: good, because i plan on telling you every single day for the rest of our lives

Lucas: Promise?

Eliott: promise.

Lucas couldn’t help himself, didn’t care if Manon and Daphné heard them, he dropped his phone in his lap and leaned forward grabbing the back of Eliott’s neck and pulling them together. He could feel Eliott smiling against his mouth, and he was pretty sure he was doing the same. Eliott’s hands found their preferred resting spot on both sides of his face and Lucas melted into the touch, wondering once again how he’d gone without it for so long.

The music shut off and Lucas became aware of his breath, of Eliott’s breath, of the sudden silence that engulfed the room. The two of them froze, pulling apart and peering out the gaps in the door to the best of their ability.

Daphné was walking to the door and Manon was looking at her as she went, laughing at something Daphné must have just said. There was a moment, a blink and you’ll miss it moment, and suddenly everything became glaringly obvious. He anticipated it barely a second before it happened, only because he knew Manon nearly as well as he knew himself. How could he have not seen it before?

“Daph, I have to tell you something,” Manon’s voice rang out through the studio, reaching out for Daphné’s hand. Daphné looked at Manon’s hand on hers, then wrinkled her brows in confusion.

“Yes?”

Manon shut her eyes, biting the inside of her cheek. Lucas could practically sense every feeling she was feeling, the fear and the doubt and the urge, nonetheless, to air all her feelings in the open. “I… I think that I—” she cut off, taking a deep breath.

Daphné gripped Manon’s hand harder and Manon’s eyes shot open. “I think I’m in love with you Daphné.”

Daphné blinked in surprise but she didn’t pull away. Eliott reached out to tap Lucas a few times disbelievingly, accidentally smacking his face as they watched Manon look at the ground, Daphné pulling Manon closer a bit before she took a few steps herself, closer and closer until their lips touched.

Lucas slapped Eliott back letting him know, yes, they were seeing the same thing. He was happy for them, it was hard for him not to be, especially given the conversation he had with her earlier in the week. He felt bad for not realizing it earlier, but he supposed they’d both been a little bit too wrapped up in other people that they hadn’t seen what was right in front of them.

Manon and Daphné were still kissing, which was all well and good, but Lucas really wanted to leave the closet sometime soon. The literal closet, not the figurative one. He wondered if Manon would tell him about Daphné, but then figured it would be a bit hypocritical for him to be mad if she didn’t, given his own secret relationship.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity to them, but probably only an instant to Manon and Daphné, they left hand in hand. He hoped Imane was already asleep, he didn’t know if she would be too pleased with her roommates hooking up in the suite they all shared. Not everyone was as lucky as Lucas was with Eliott.

As soon as he was absolutely certain they were gone, Lucas pushed open the doors, wasting no time tumbling out. Eliott followed him, closing the closet door gently behind him before turning to Lucas with wide eyes. “Manon and Daphné! I never saw that one coming, Charles and Manon always had that sexual tension or whatever…”

“I know,” Lucas said in disbelief. In all honesty, he was glad it wasn’t Charles. He hadn’t treated Manon the best, but always framed their disputes in a way that Manon blamed herself, at least from what Manon had told him over the summer, so he was happy she’d fallen for someone who saw her worth. At least he hoped so, if Daphné didn’t… he knew where to hide her body.

“Like you and Lucille, right?” Lucas added with a smirk. He didn’t really know or care much about Eliott and Lucille’s brief relationship, but Eliott had all but told him he’d never really loved Lucille in the way he loved him, so he wasn’t too worried about it.

Eliott laughed at the insinuation, ruffling his hair with one hand. “Appearances aren’t all they seem to be, noted.”

“You didn’t know that already?” Lucas teased. “Everyone still thinks I hate you.”

“Yeah, about that, you could take it a bit easier on me now, right?” Eliott grinned, holding out both of his hands so Lucas could fold them into his.

Lucas scoffed, faking a loud laugh. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“You’re right,” Eliott conceded, “The only thing that keeps me away from you in class is knowing that everyone thinks we hate each other.”

“That’s all?” Lucas pulled Eliott closer to him stretching their arms out to the side. His face was level with Eliott’s chest, so he looked up at Eliott, glint in his eyes. He loved their height difference, he really did.

“Mmmm.” Eliott leaned his head down, brushing their noses together before scrunching his nose up against Lucas’ intentionally. Lucas repeated the action and the two of them dissolved into giggles, Lucas pulling away long enough to make sure they had everything they’d brought to the studio with them before planting a quick peck on Eliott’s lips and pulling him after him into the hallway. It seemed that this was how most of their nights in the studio ended, and Lucas wouldn’t change a thing.

Lundi 17:03

That had been the worst day of practices Lucas had in a long time. Not because he, or anyone else, did anything wrong, but he could tell that the pressure was getting to them all, instructors included. The show was approaching rapidly, even though it still seemed so far away. Eliott was back in the director’s good graces, which was good because rehearsals probably would have entered an entirely new level of hell if he hadn’t been. Lucas couldn’t even imagine what it would be like if Manon somehow fell from grace.

Lucas had stayed behind after class to walk back to the suites with Manon, wondering if she would say anything about the weekend’s events. It was fine if she didn’t, but Lucas hoped she would. Maybe he would confide about Eliott too, without saying his name.

“Well that was something,” she said, and he nodded in agreement.

“It’s do or die time, if things don’t start looking perfect it’s the guillotine for all of us,” he said.

Manon smacked his shoulder, but he heard a small laugh. “So dramatic.”

“I know, how did I not know I was gay until I kissed Chloé?” he professed, spreading his arms wide in faux disbelief.

“You’re ridiculous,” she said, shaking her head, “Why do I love you again?”

The words punched him in the gut, a brief reminder of all that had transpired between him and Eliott, stuck in that tiny closet. She didn’t know about any of that, though, so he smiled wider than the conversation probably prompted, and slung an arm around her shoulders. “Because we match.”

If he wasn’t gay, Manon would definitely be his soulmate, and he hers. Because they did match, in so many ways. She was one of the only people that knew everything, the good, the bad, the ugly, and stayed anyway. He did the same for her, knew everything about why she was living in a flatshare over the holidays instead of with her parents just like he was. So many times neither of them had to say a word, knowing exactly what the other needed, and it felt so good to have someone like that in his life after going so long without it. Eliott had become a new source of that same kind of comfort, and Lucas hoped Daphné would be able to do the same for Manon.

“I have to tell you something,” Manon said quietly, and Lucas knew what she was going to say. He pulled her closer to him, looking at her earnestly. She continued, “This weekend, I took your advice, and I—”

“Lulu! Finally!” Arthur interrupted the two of them, poking his head out the door to his suite as they walked past. Lucas glowered at him in a way that said not now, but Arthur continued to grin at the two of them.

Manon, surprisingly, slipped out of his grip, grinning widely. He grabbed her hand before she could walk away. “Hey, Manon, wait a second—”

“No, don’t worry about it. I’ll talk to you later, I promise!” she shook her head, and Lucas narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Why was she acting so happy all of a sudden? He could tell it wasn’t a ruse, because he could tell when she was being genuine and when she wasn’t.

“Ok…”

“Bye Lucas, Arthur. I have to get back to my suite anyway, Imane’s making dinner,” she said, waving over her shoulder as she walked a few doors down. Lucas watched her in confusion before turning back to Arthur. That was odd, to say the least.

“What? We were kind of in the middle of something,” he said angrily.

Arthur sighed, raising his hands in surrender. “Sheesh, sorry, this is just basically the first time I’ve seen you in like a week. Forget about your future husband so fast?”

It took Lucas a moment to remember what he was talking about, and then he blushed fondly at the memory. Sure, that conversation seemed almost ridiculous now, given the state of his relationship with Eliott, but it was nice to know Arthur had been genuine, drunk as he was. “No, no, of course not. Just busy,” Lucas said.

“Right…” Arthur said, but didn’t question him further, which Lucas was grateful about. He shook his hair out of the way of his glasses, leaning against the doorframe. “Anyway, want to have a guys night? Sof said he was going to force Eliott to go out to eat with him and Idriss, so we figured you should take advantage of a night without your nemesis and his friends.”

“Eliott’s not my nemesis,” Lucas said, rolling his eyes.

“Right, sure, archenemy then, I don’t care what you call it,” Arthur backtracked, “What do you say?”

What else could he say? If Eliott was gone there was no excuse to say no. “That sounds great.”

Arthur whooped and let Lucas into their suite, where Yann was already sitting on the couch setting up a video game. Lucas was a disaster when it came to video games, but he figured he might enjoy a night with his best friends, doing something completely mind numbing. If anything, it might tear his thoughts away from that day’s disastrous rehearsals.

Lucas sat beside Yann, giving him a fist bump. Arthur called to them from the kitchen area. “Yann and I are putting a pizza in, do you have a preference between cheese and pepperoni?”

Lucas shook his head. “I’m not very hungry, plus I have leftovers that’ll go bad if I don’t eat them when I get back tonight.”

“You sure?” Arthur asked, choosing a pizza and setting the oven to the proper temperature. Was he sure? Rehearsals that day had frazzled him, making him remember why he’d all but stopped eating in the first place. He couldn’t be at the top of his game if he was eating pizza and playing video games all night, so he’d just have to choose one to make himself feel better. There were no leftovers in the fridge back in his suite, but the lie came so naturally to him. He didn’t have a problem, he didn’t. If he did, he wouldn’t have eaten the pancakes Eliott had made him the night before for dinner. Granted, he’d almost thrown them up but that had more to do with Eliott’s horrible cooking skills than anything else.

“I’m sure,” he said, ignoring the voice in his head that told him it was the wrong thing to say.

Mardi 13:30

“You’re not eating?” Imane asked as he came to sit down beside her. He shook his head, fumbling for an excuse and finding one easier than he probably should have.

“I’m too nervous, I’d probably throw it all up,” he said. It was partly true. He was a bit nervous for the rest of practice that day, but he hoped it would be better than the day before. Plus, his muscles always looked more defined when he didn’t eat before practice, so none of the instructors could accuse him of slacking if he looked like he was at the top of his game.

Imane nodded like she understood, which made his stomach roll in guilt. Just his luck, he’d end up throwing up anyway. “I feel that. What is it about this week? I swear no one was this on edge last week…”

Emma sat down at the same table as them, slamming her food down with a loud bang. Imane and Lucas both looked up at her in surprise, then at each other. They were both friends with her, but she usually didn’t join them when they were hanging out. Actually, Lucas usually didn’t join Imane for lunch either, but he knew Eliott would notice if he wasn’t eating, so he told Eliott to go get lunch with Alexia since they hadn’t seen her in a while. In some ways, they also had her to thank for them finally getting together, she’d invited them to that fateful party after all.

“Hey, Em,” Lucas said slowly.

She took a bite of her sandwich, looking at him like she’d just noticed he was there. “Hey?”

“Did you need something?” Imane asked, always direct and to the point.

Emma widened her eyes, finishing chewing before she spoke up. “Oh, shit, did I interrupt something? Were you gossiping?”

“What? No,” Lucas laughed, “You just came and sat down without saying anything. Not that we aren’t pleased to have you with us…”

“Oh, I just wanted to escape Manon and Daphné,” Emma said simply. Lucas’ gaze flickered to Imane again, but she just looked confused. He didn’t know whether this meant they’d told Emma about the two of them, but not Imane, or if they were all still in the dark.

“Why?” Imane asked.

Emma shrugged. “They’re both acting super weird. I think they must have gotten into a fight or something, because it seems like they’re both walking on eggshells around each other. I told them to go out to lunch without me and sort out their differences.”

Lucas was pretty sure they’d been “acting weird” to get rid of Emma and go on a pseudo date, but he wasn’t supposed to know that, so he said nothing.

“Oh, so we’re second choice?” Imane teased, and Emma snorted throwing one of her chips at Imane.

“It was either you guys or Ingrid…” she trailed off, and the three of them shuddered more dramatically than probably necessary. Everyone else dealt with Ingrid, but she’d personally been a total asshole to the three of them more times than they could count, so they didn’t even pretend to have patience for her anymore.

“I would have chosen Ingrid,” Lucas said, trying his damndest to keep a straight face. “I’ve missed her homophobic jokes.”

This time Lucas got a chip thrown at him, but he smiled, unable to maintain a serious expression. Lucas was glad that, despite the fact Yann was his best friend, he and Emma had also been able to maintain a nice friendship. It was nothing special, they would never be close in the way he was with Manon or the boys, but she always had his back, no questions asked, so he always had hers in return.

The rest of the lunch hour flew by, and Lucas found that he was quite glad Emma had joined them. She took his mind off the things he should or shouldn’t have been worrying about, depending on who you asked. It also made him realize how much he’d missed in his little bubble with Eliott, because Emma always had all the gossip.

Apparently, she and Alex had kind of been seeing each other since the party. She claimed it was just for sex, but he hadn’t seen her talk about anyone like this since Yann. Arthur, also, had supposedly hooked up with someone but refused to say who it was, even to Yann and Sofiane, who’d been pestering him about it. He was usually ready to spill about all of his adventures at the drop of a hat, so this was odd indeed. Basile had confessed his love for Daphné, the likes of which she had gracefully declined, but he didn’t seem to beaten up about it from what Emma knew from Yann.

It was hard to take in all the information, but it was good to reenter the real world every now and then. After all, this meant that, since he was caught up on all the happenings of the students, he could disappear with Eliott again for a while and not worry about what he was missing.

Jeudi 19:19

Lucas couldn’t quite believe what he was doing, but he couldn’t let Eliott know the truth of it. Eliott was in the shower, which usually only took about twenty minutes, give or take, so he had limited time.

Take out an egg, crack it into the sink, wash it down the drain, leave the shell in the sink so it looked like he’d just forgotten to put it down the disposal, put a pan on the stove, melt butter over the surface, let it sit, wash it out, place it on the drying rack next to a plate and a fork he ran under the sink to give the guise of use, and wipe off the counter as if he’d spilled or gotten crumbs on it.

It was just a one time thing, of course it was. There was just such a need for perfection that week, and none of the pressure from Monday had subsided, so Lucas figured it didn’t hurt to fall back into old habits until everything was back to normal. It wasn’t a problem, not if he controlled it.

The door opened just as Lucas was finishing up, and he forced a smile on his face. “Good shower?”

“It would have been better with you,” Eliott confessed, standing in the doorway to the bathroom with just a towel around his waist.

Lucas raised his eyebrows. “I don’t remember receiving an invitation.”

“Well, just know that it goes without saying from here on out,” Eliott said, and had the audacity to wink. Lucas nearly dropped the towel he was holding. Eliott smirked, knowing the effect he had on Lucas. “Did you have dinner already? I was going to make you something.”

“I decided I’d very much like to avoid food poisoning for the night,” Lucas shrugged, and Eliott’s smirk disappeared.

“You said you love my cooking!”

Lucas winced. It was quite possible he’d only said that because he was too lovestruck to claim otherwise. “I’m sorry, your cooking is god awful.”

“Lu!”

“Eli!”

“Don’t make me come over there…”

“Oh yeah? And do what?” Lucas teased, knowing by the glint in Eliott’s eye and the way he shifted his position and his grip on the towel that he was driving Eliott as crazy as Eliott was driving him.

Maybe he should have felt guilty about how easily Eliott believed him, but the satisfaction that rose in its place felt too good to even consider feeling guilty.

It wasn’t a problem. He had it under control.

Vendredi 3:58

Eliott’s soft breaths tickled Lucas’ chest as he ran a hand through Eliott’s hair. Eliott was sprawled out on top of him, deep in slumber and Lucas checked every once and a while to make sure he hadn’t woken him.

Eliott either slept like the dead or the very much alive, jolting with every touch, refusing to stay in the same position for more than thirty seconds. That night, thankfully was a sleep like the dead night. It was comforting to Lucas to know that, even when he couldn’t sleep, Eliott could. He liked making Eliott feel safe in his arms.

He wasn’t sure why he was still awake when he knew he had to get up in about two hours, other than his mind and body hating him. For the most part, sleeping next to Eliott had helped him with his insomniatic patterns, but there was still nights like these where sleep felt like an illusion, a dream in and of itself.

Every now and then he found himself drifting, but his body could never commit to it, jolting him awake before the sweet bliss of thoughtlessness could consume him. So, instead of focusing on the fact that he couldn’t sleep, he focused on another of the many things running through his head.

Polaris was at the center of his thoughts, even though Swan Lake was probably more demanding at that point. Though that was just it, wasn’t it? Part of why he thought about, committed so much time to thinking about Polaris was because it wasn’t as demanding. He could take all the time he needed to make all the music perfect, and he had Eliott supporting him every step of the way. It was nice to feel like he was wanted in something he was passionate about.

Rehearsals made him feel that way at times, but he and Imane had pretty much been cast to the side recently, working on their corps choreography instead of practicing with the leads now that they knew all of that choreography. It was frustrating, to have put so much energy into something and still be treated like he was disposable, but such was the life of a ballet dancer. He was sure it would only get worse once he entered a company full time.

If he entered a company full time.

It was easy to pretend, with Eliott and with everyone else, that he had no doubts. Of course he’d get into a company, and from there he’d work his way up to principal dancer, no matter how long it took. But none of that was certain. He could audition for a hundred different companies and get rejected by all of them. He wasn’t the type of person that was anyone’s first choice.

He wasn’t even Eliott’s first choice, if he really thought about it. Not that he should think about it, but it was hard not to sometimes. Lucille, even if Eliott hadn’t loved her as much as Lucas, had been the first choice, and there was probably some part of Eliott that would always be aware of that. Lucas knew that there was always some part of him that would, despite the fact that he knew the love the two of them shared had nothing on Lucas and Eliott’s love.

Lucas was the type to refuse to let himself fail in all areas of his life, so his relationship with Eliott had just become one more thing Lucas would try his hardest to make work against all circumstances, because this failure would mean losing all the light he’d come to know in the past few weeks, plunging back into the darkness he was accustomed to, but afraid of nonetheless.

Even though he was the type of person to refuse to let himself fail, a voice in the back of his mind always reminded him that it was a great possibility. He couldn’t afford to fail, to do anything other than dance. University didn’t interest him, but neither did any other menial jobs he would need to get to survive outside of the ballet world. Maybe he had a future in composition, but he’d always wanted people to see him, not see other people dancing to his music. Why couldn’t he have both?

Maybe he’d been conditioned to be humble to the point that he was afraid to ask for the spotlight, even when he knew he deserved it. He could talk to his friends about wanting a lead role, but he always just accepted it when he didn’t get one as if he’d known all along that this was the way it would turn out. It was frustrating, but he didn’t know how to go about changing it.

Eliott probably could have quit dance tomorrow and been melancholy for a while, but found a new passion that he excelled at, not caring much so long as he had someone he loved by his side. Lucas wasn’t like that. He’d like to say that he was the type of person to be satisfied with a life full of love or happiness, but he knew himself. He knew he could never be happy if he wasn’t trying to make a name for himself or be the best in whatever area he pursued.

Here he was, happiest he’d ever been, but he still wasn’t satisfied. He still wanted more. Call him ambitious, prideful, he knew it was all true, and he accepted it.

Pride was one of the deadliest sins, but Lucas saw no universe in which he could let his go. It was a part of him just as much as his hair or his eyes or his own brain. Maybe he should have tried to let it go, just a little bit, but he didn’t really know who he was without it.

He never understood how to feel that way about a person, either, to not know how to be without them. He’d never felt like that with his mother, certainly not his father, and Manon was the only one who had ever really come close to being like a true family, but he could still survive without her if he had to. It worried him, lying there with Eliott on his chest, that Eliott might be the first person to ever make him lose himself if Eliott ever left his life. He didn’t want to be dependent, didn’t want to live a life so precariously to the point that he couldn’t exist without the love from another.

Living without love for so long had made him capable of handling the world on his own, but now Eliott was here, and Eliott loved him, and he didn’t know what it meant if he craved that love he’d lacked for so long.

Heartlessness was a curse only to those who didn’t know how to wield it the way he’d learned how to over many years. If he couldn’t find it in himself to be heartless anymore, did that make him weak? Did it make him weak to fall asleep with another body wrapped around his every night, finding comfort in the way it helped settle his thoughts and turn his mind off enough to breathe freely even if only for a night?

Granted, he wasn’t finding that comfort at the present moment, watching the clock tick minute by minute as if it were scolding him for being awake. Eliott shifted his body, placing a sleepy kiss on Lucas’ collarbone, one that Lucas was certain he wouldn’t remember in the morning, before settling back in, cocooning himself around Lucas like he was his lifeline.

In that moment, Lucas didn’t care if it made him weak, he snuggled right back into Eliott, shutting his eyes and tuning his mind to the sounds of Eliott breathing. He could worry about the rest of his life tomorrow, right now he needed to allow himself to be weak, if being held in the arms of someone who loved you was what weakness was.

#skam france #elu fic #elu ballet au #last dance #eliott demaury #lucas lallemant #elu

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hotoffthepressfics · 5 years

Text

Broke But Not Broken: Chapter 4

MASTERLIST

Part IV

Previous | Next

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 2,304

Summary: You are slowly learning bits and pieces about Bucky, but is that a good or bad thing? CiCi continues on her mission to help get your life back in order.

Warnings: Angst

Inspiration/Chapter Soundtrack:

“Come Alive” - Rachel Taylor

“Hello My Old Heart” - The Oh Hellos

A/N: This is turning out to be a very slow burn, which is killing me so I’m sure it’s killing you! But all good things come to those who wait! ;) I promise it’ll be good! Again, thank you so much for your support!

“Can you hand me the needle – nosed pliers…”

An hour later found you sitting cross – legged on the floor next to one of the dryers, periodically handing over whatever tool Bucky asked for.

You rummage through the cardboard box and grab the handle to pliers with elongated tips. You assume that was the correct tool as you place it in his hand and he continues his work.

Looking around the laundry room your eyes once again fall on the upright piano tucked in the back. When you first walked in you had honed in on the instrument. As Bucky led the way to the broken dryer you drifted towards it. The piano wasn’t in the greatest condition. The finish on the wood was chipped and dinged; the keys worn over from countless hours of playing. You could see it had been well loved. You placed your fingers lightly on the keys.

That’s it, my little songbird, play a tune for me.

You drew your hand back, clenching your fingers into a fist. Phantom pains shot up your right arm from your hand. You pulled it up to your chest and rubbed at the puckered scars across your knuckles.

“Do you play?”

Bucky’s voice snapped you back to the present, but the memories still clung to you like tar. You turned to him, brows furrowed in confusion.

“W-what?”

He gestured nonchalantly towards the piano.

“Do you play? You could play something if – “

“No.” You stepped back away from it, turning fully to face Bucky. You shook your head to emphasize your word.

“Oh. Alright… well it’s been there for about a month now. It used to belong to this old guy, Omar. He lived on the first floor – really nice guy – anyways, he would play that thing day and night. He died recently and no one wanted to claim the piano so I tried to get rid of it but here it sits. Now people have grown so used to it, it’s just become part of the scenery.” He turned and motioned to the dryer.

Bucky had launched into a series of stories about the tenants of the apartment building. He had seemed content to just talk without any feedback from you, and for that you were grateful. Like all one – sided conversations though he soon fell silent and concentrated on his task at hand. Now you alternated between gazing across the room toward the piano and sneaking glances of Bucky.

There had been a time that no one could separate you from a piano. Even when you couldn't be behind one you would tap your fingers along to a silent melody in your head. The music flowed through you and you drifted away with it. Then your mother died and you became even more of a slave to your music, using it to escape from your heartbreak. If only you had known what that would lead to...

You close your eyes, lost in memory. When you open them again you peek under your lashes to watch Bucky. With his attention solely focused now on the dryer repair you feel safe enough to study him as much as you like.

You had decided that Bucky was an attractive man, albeit a little unkempt. He had pulled his shaggy hair back into a tiny bun at the back of his head while he worked. You found it a little silly and, admittedly, a little cute. Your eyes travel from his profile down to his arms. Studying his metallic left arm, you can see that it's made of interlocking metal bands. It appears to be more than just a prosthetic because as you watch him work you can see the metal bands shifting and realigning. You wonder how it works but know you will never ask. It was hard enough to endure interaction with him when it was unbidden. You weren't about to draw attention to yourself or the fact that you had been ogling him.

So instead you settle on watching him, now viewing the muscles in his right arm bunch and release. You followed the curve of muscle in his forearm, the rest hidden under the sleeve of his dirty baseball tee. The fabric of the shirt hugs him rather nicely allowing you to see he is well toned underneath. Heat slowly spreads up to your cheeks. Nervously you shift a little away from him, pressing your back against the side of the dryer. Now you'd be less likely to let your eyes roam over him, but it left you staring back at the piano.

You huff, lean your head against the metal siding, and allow your eyes to shut.

Another moment of silence passes. It was beginning to make you feel edgy. You suddenly want Bucky to start rambling again. At least then you could focus on his voice and stories. What could you get him talking about that would be unobtrusive.

"Bucky..."

"Hmm?"

"...Is that your real name? Did your parents really name you Bucky?" That seemed like good neutral ground.

Bucky guffaws. You crane your head to see him smiling again, all teeth and crinkled eyes.

"Naw. My given name is James Buchanan Barnes. I got the nickname "Bucky" when I signed up to be a soldier."

"A soldier?"

"Yeah. Being the orphaned son of one, it seemed like the right path for me to go on."

You ponder on that for a moment. So, he used to be a soldier. That must be how he lost and got his metal arm.

"You know, I'm just now realizing I haven’t caught what your name is?" Bucky pauses in his repair job to glance over to you expectantly. You delay a moment then take a breath.

“Y/N.”

He grins wide, rubbing his right hand against his jeans. He sticks it out to you. You hesitantly place your hand against his. His fingers clasp around yours in a firm but gentle handshake.

“Nice to make your acquaintance, Y/N. Even if you did try to take me out with a shoe today.” He winks and releases his grip on your hand.

You can’t help it. A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. You give a little shake of your head and glance away to hide it, but not before Bucky notices.

“I saw that smile. Knew I’d get one out of you even if it killed me. Now that I know you look so pretty doing it, it’s my aim to make you do it more often.”

You blush and draw your knees up, wrapping your arms around them. You aren’t used to being complimented and you still aren’t sure if you mind it or not. You didn’t know how to respond but it seemed you wouldn’t have to as Bucky just returned the dryer repair.

“I thought I heard voices in here.” A dark -skinned, thin man with a shaved head pops around the corner carrying two, black garbage bags.

If not for the voice similarities you wouldn’t have recognized CiCi. The white t-shirt and black cargo pants a stark contrast to the crystal bustier and hot pink skirt you’d seen her in the night before. CiCi smiles and wriggles her fingers at you.

“Hey sweetheart, I’m glad to see you out of the apartment and not holed up in it like I thought you’d be.”

You raise your hand and wave back to her, unsure if you should be insulted or pleased to exceed her expectations.

“Has he been nice to you?” CiCi inclines her head down towards Bucky.

Bucky snorts. “Hey! I am always a gentleman!”

“Oh really?” mocks CiCi, one eyebrow raised.

At that same moment someone behind CiCi clears their throat. Bucky looks up and stares at CiCi.

“Do… you have company?” CiCi shakes her head.

“No, but it seems you do.” She steps back to reveal a voluptuous, platinum blonde haired woman. She beams when she sees Bucky.

“Baby!” She breezes past CiCi coming up short when she sees you sitting close by. The smile fades a little and she slightly glares at you. You inch away, becoming a little shaken by the instant hostility. You were just here to help, nothing more.

Bucky groans and lets his head fall against the dryer door with a metallic thunk.

“Why did you let her in here?” He hisses.

CiCi leans closer, arms folded in front of her.

“I didn’t. She ambushed me the second I opened the door. Now, I could have dealt with the situation, but then I realized, it’s not my problem. This is what happens when you let the little head think for the big one!” She gestures first towards Bucky’s groin, then to his head.

You watch their interaction then flick your gaze over to the blonde. The beaming smile has completely disappeared, replaced with a scowl that mars her pretty features. Her arms are crossed and she looks like she’s about to throw a fit. She senses your stare. You look away before she can level her glare at you.

CiCi straightens and reaches out her hand to you. You take it and she hoists you up to your feet.

“Time to clean up your mess, Buck.”CiCi pats his cheek as he gives her an annoyed look.

Cici beckons you to follow. You keep your head down and stay close. Bucky sighs.

“C’mon Rachel we need to t – “

“My name’s Rebecca!” The blonde shrieks.

You wince and hear CiCi mutter, “Lord, have mercy.”

•••

“That boy just keeps gettin’ himself into trouble, and all because he refuses to see he’s got a problem.”

CiCi had brought you up to her apartment, trash bags in tow. When you entered she upturned each bag to reveal piles of women’s clothing. Just before she had gone to her day job CiCi made some calls and collected more clothing for you.

You thanked her over and over, swearing that you would make it up to her, to which she simply waved you off and sent you to go through the piles while she got more comfortable.

So you rifled through mounds of clothing, picking out the pieces you liked while CiCi sat at a vanity table applying her makeup and ranting about the drama from downstairs.

You weren’t sure what to make of what CiCi’s words insinuated and the incident you witnessed between Rachel/Rebecca and Bucky. You pause in your sorting.

“Does… Bucky always bring girls like that here?” He didn’t seem to be a bad person, but you also didn’t want to get tangled up with someone who treated women so… casually. You were starting to think it would be best to keep your distance.

CiCi blows out a breath. “I’m sorry, I’m painting Buck in a really bad light, aren’t I?” She swivels in her seat to look over at you.

“No, it’s not a common occurrence. Poor Bucky has some… demons that like to hang on his back from time to time. So, he does everything he can to forget them – everything except what’s healthy.” She makes a gesture of throwing a shot back.

“Most of the girls come with the understanding that it’s a one – and – done situation, but sometimes… they get a little carried away.” With that explanation CiCi swerves back to the vanity and reapplies another layer of lipstick.

You mull over this information as you watch her work. A quick swipe along her lips and CiCi rubs them together with a pop. She stands, smoothing out her blue fringe dress and posing for you with a wink, tossing the hair of the lavender wig she’d put on. You grin up at her. This was more the CiCi you remembered.

“You look good CiCi.”

“Look good, feel good! We should do your makeup. I bet you’d look pretty as a picture.”

The grin falters a bit and you shake your head emphatically. The last thing you needed to do was start drawing attention to yourself.

“No, thank you.”

Eyes narrowed CiCi points a finger at you, her other hand propped up on her hip.

“Mark my words, we are gonna get you outta this little wallflower phase. You are too much of a stunner to be looking so sad and defeated.”

You cast your eyes down to the fabric wrapped around your hands. “We’ll see.”

CiCi sighs. Changing the subject she walks over to her bed, snatching up the small stack of papers she had pulled from one of the bags before dumping it out.

“I also snagged you some applications while I was out. I figured you could get a head start in finding employment.”

Eagerly, you take the papers from her. The sooner you could find a job, the sooner you could feel less like a burden and pay back CiCi’s generosity. Sifting through the papers, however, you begin to feel dismayed. You lean back on your heels, crestfallen.

Inspecting herself in a full length mirror, occasionally fluffing up her wig, CiCi catches your dejected form.

“What’s wrong?”

“Th – they want my social security and proof of identity… I don’t have any of that…. Even if I did I can’t…” you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, worrying it.

How were you going get a job if you couldn’t use your information? The moment you put it out there they would know where to find you.

CiCi bends over and slides one of the papers from your hands. She skims through it.

“It seems to me they just need a social and any proof of identity.” CiCi’s mouth curled into a mischievous grin.

You furrow your brows, puzzling over her choice of words. Somehow you weren’t sure you were going to like this.

EVERYTHING TAGLIST:

@booktvmoviefangirl @lowkeybuckyb @mrsdaamneron @xxashy999xx @c-ly-g @coal000 @rroguebones @ghostlyrose2 @part-time-patronus @emelielwh @peaceinourtime82 @buckysforeverprincess @geeksareunique @amnahs9695 @v-2bucky @scarlet-skywalkers @lokilvrr @thisismysecrethappyplace @sacre-bluhm @tatertot1097 @until-theend-oftheline @amoonagedaydreamer @marvelouspottering @thatfanficstuff @chuuulip @littlemarvelfics @averyrogers83 @ellaprime68

BUCKY BARNES TAGLIST:

@bloodiedskirtts @igotkatiepowers @misplacedorphan @superwholockwannabe @moonstruckhargrove @ladysergeantbarnes

BBNB TAGLIST:

@imaginecrushes @that-bearshark @jademox @theraputicwritings @marvel-fanfiction @aubri1313 @xcriminalmastermindx @regulusirius @lostinspace33 @directionerfae @rainbowkisses31 @marie-is-in-the-dark @msgrungie @mrsbarneswillseeyounow @getmedeacon @owhatshername1 @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @mizzzpink @aveatquevale- @sweetlydecaf @absolukeyrh

#bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes series #james bucky barnes series #modern au #bucky fluff #bucky angst #bucky smut #marvel fanfiction #the winter soldier

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short-origins · 5 years

Text

Stay Safe.

(Fun fact: I had no idea I was queer when I wrote this. How I didn’t know is beyond me, but whatever.)

So, you’re heading out?

The bubbly scrawl appears along my left arm. A small smile works its way onto my face as I read the white script. I am not supposed to communicate with anyone outside of my command at this time, but screw it; freedom of speech and expression still apply, yeah?

“Hey, could I borrow a pen?” I turn to my friend Jonah, who gives me a ‘really?’ look. “Yes, really. Now may I borrow a pen or is that a no?” I ask.

“Yeah, yeah. Here you go,” he sighs as he reaches into his pack to pull out a black pen. “I need this one back, L.”

“Yes sir,” I say with a lilt in my voice as I snatch the pen from his grasp. “Thanks.”

Yeah, planned patrol. Shouldn’t be too bad.

“Pen away, Liz,” Commander Zolt orders gruffly. “We’ll be out of this stinking truck in five minutes, you’ll live.”

“Yes sir,” I say as I yank my sleeve down over my olive skin and hand the pen back over to Jonah. “Thanks again,” I say. Wordlessly, he takes the pen back and puts into his pack and pulls out some jerky to snack on.

“So, what’d you tell ‘er this time?” he asks while peeling the wrapping open. He wiggles his eyebrows and I just roll my eyes at him.

“It’s not like we had a ton of time to chat and it was just about our day; nothing ‘juicy,’ you idiot.” I say.

“Rats.”

“Shut up.” I smile and lean back into my seat. In the back of the truck are three people besides me and Jonah. Commander Zolt, who has never seemed to like me, along with the siblings Colt and Bel. who mostly chat with each other, but they are good people to hang with otherwise.

As the ride to Quintar continues to draw out, my mind thinks to the writing on my arm. I find myself focusing on the faint pin-pointed pressure of Tiana’s response. Despite how tempted I am to look, I can almost feel Commander Zolt watching and waiting for me to slip up, which keeps me from doing anything of the sort.

I’ll read it later, when I get the chance. Tiana and I have been chatting for almost fourteen years now. She reached out to me first.

Does this work?

The pale blue color had bloomed on my arm. I remember running to my mom immediately after. “Mom! Mom! Look!” I’d said. Seeing the messy scrawl for the first time had been a happy surprise. “Look! They wrote. What do I say back?” I’d asked her mother.

“Well say hi to them at least. Talk to them,” she said.

The feeling of the truck suddenly slamming on the brakes snaps me back into focus as our bodies jerk towards the front of the truck. “Alright, buzz-cuts and ponies, time to move!” the commander orders us as we begin to pick up all of our items. I pack up any material I took out of my pack and grab my gun from behind my seat as I stand.

“Three years. We’ve been doing this job for three years. Last run for you, L,” Jonah says as we get ready to go. “You lucky shit.”

“What can I say? I don’t want to be away from home any longer than I have to be.” I laugh and punch his upper arm, “Plus, once I’m back, I plan to finally meet Tiana in person, rather than over a video chat,” I say as I glance towards my left arm. “But we’ll have to meet up once you’re out. You are out soon too, yeah?”

Before he responds, we are pushed out of the truck into the dry, dusty heat of Quintar. The truck takes off to make room for the next truck as Jonah speaks. “Three more months. Better no forget about me in that time, L.” he says, securing some of gear to his belt.

“Yeah, yeah.”

We are all corralled into a group once the rest of the command gets out of the other trucks. We split into groups of six and spread out along the surrounding area. Major Beth leads our group based off of her mutt’s nose.

We arrive to a mostly deserted part of the town as we keep watch outside of each building while the mutt tries to sniff out any bombs, drugs, weapons, and other dangerous material.

‘Clear!” Major Beth yells out as the mutt sniffs out another crumbling building. As we transition to the next building and continue our check, I lag behind a few paces and pull my sleeve back to see what Tiana wrote.

Stay Safe.

The clumsy handwriting makes me smile, as it always has since she accepted my position.

Why the HELL are you doing that!?

I could practically hear her screaming at me through the bold marks on my skin. She knew that I had been thinking about doing this, and had voiced her concern many times prior, but when I told her that it was going to happen, I could feel her anger radiating from the lines on my skin.

I’m calling.

Moments later my phone rings loudly. I take a breath, before deciding to answer. I deserve any anger she has. “Hey.”

On the other end of the line I hear her strained voice as she asks. “Dammit, Liz. You’re going to get yourself killed out there,” her normally soft and happy voice sounds like it’s on the verge of breaking. “Of all times to go into service why-” she pauses for a moment, swallows and continues, “why now? Why not community service, policing, fire fighting even. Why would you go work in a war zone?”

I understand her concern. “No one else will by choice. I’m not going to be away long. I’ll be back before you are out of college, and when I come back I’ll have the money to meet you so you don’t have to leave your studies. I’ll be fine. Plus, when I get back I’ll be able to get veterans discounts,” I say, half honest, half joking. Tiana lets out a breathy scoff.

“Fine. Stay safe.”

“Liz! We need you to check this out,”Major Beth calls out.

“Yes Ma’am!” I jog inside the building Major Beth and her dog are in. “What is it?”

Major Beth gestures towards three cabinets, two of which were opened. “We found a variety of weapons which were modified.” Major Beth opens the third cabinet and turns to look at me. “You’re the weapons specialists, what do we have here?”

I take that as a cue to begin pulling out the weapons and inspecting them. The first cabinet and much of the second are full of semi-automatic rifles with additions which were added with basic supplies, mostly duct tape. Most of the guns had added on knives and various blades to make basic bayonets. Other guns, though appearing ordinary on the surface, were modified to shoot ammunition other than bullets. Pistols are limited to small rocks and pebbles, but larger guns were altered to use things such as stones and incendiary cartridges depending on each gun.

“Besides the obvious attempt at recreating bayonets, the guns were modified to use more mundane things as projectiles, so they wouldn’t run out of ammunition,” I say, sparing her the details as she comes over to inspect the weapons. I walk over to the third cabinet to find it full of explosives. I hesitate in picking up anything from the third cabinet before walking back towards her. “It’s full of bombs and the bottom has a layering of of gunpowder. I recommend that we use any spare water we have and douse the powder,” I say.

She nods and I begin to walk towards the door to get a jug of water, but I am interrupted when a loud banging sound ruptures throughout the area. Pulling my gun out, I quickly turn around to try to locate the sound. But I see nothing. The sound was of a gun going off, but I can’t tell from where.

Another banging sound goes off, and suddenly the cabinet full of explosives is set off. The gunpowder lights on fire and then there is an explosion.

My body is pushed back into the opposite wall, and my vision blurs to black.

Clunk Click.

The sound of a door rouses me from sleep. My bleary eyes open and I have to blink a few times to see clearly. I turn my head to the right to see a nurse changing what my IV is connected to.

“Your awake. How do you feel?” he asks.

“What?” I ask before comprehending what he said. “Oh, I- uhh- good? Where am I?” I can feel parts of my body secured by bandages and the air smells too clean,

“You are in a hospital in Ann Arbor, Michigan,” he says. “You were injured while in Quintar, and since it was so close to your release date, it was decided that once you were stable you would be sent here,” he explains upon seeing my confusion. He walks to the door and just before he leaves he adds, “There will be a doctor here to check up on you in a few minutes. Until then, you have a visitor.” He walks out the door, and I can see his silhouette pause to say something to someone just outside the door through the hazy glass.

A moment later the door opens, and a girl walks into my room. Her hair is an auburn color and her skin is fair. She has many freckles spattered across her nose and cheeks, and her green eyes light up when she sees me awake.

“You never listen? Do you?” she says as she walks over and sits down in the chair next to my bed.

“Selective hearing.” I smile up at her. “You were able to convince people to send me here, I’m impressed.”

She shrugs. “What can I say? I’m majoring in English, I make the best arguments, and I wouldn’t stand for any more delays. By the way,” she stands and slightly leans over the side of the bed to hold out a hand, “it’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Liz.”

I smile and take her hand, “I wish this were under better circumstances. I am happy to meet you in person as well, Tiana.”

#Hint: its gay #I didn't realize before #but #its gay #lgbtlove #Lesbian story #lgbtq+ literature #LGBT literature #Lesbian Short story #science fiction #Lesbian Fiction #Mentions of war #Mentions of violence #Lesbians in the military #Oh no #What will the government ever do?#Short story

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gojayson-blog1 · 5 years

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Autobiograpy by Jayson R. Gomez

I am Jayson R. Gomez , I was born October 13,1999 at Brgy of Mulanay, Quezon Province . We are two siblings in the family . I am the first child . My father’s name Valentine Gomez he’s from Mulanay quezon province and my mother’s name is Editha Rejano and she’s from Mulanay,Quezon province . I took my elementary education at Teodoro Yangco Elementary school located at Dandan St.,Tondo,Manila and highschool at Dr.Juan G. Nolasco Highschool located at Tioco St.,Tondo,Manila. When I was 3 years old we moved to Tondo,Manila to lived permanently .

During weekends, we usually spend our time with bonding or hangout with family and friends . During my high school days I spend my free time playing basketball or playing online games with my friend outside of school . I was a sacristan in school who loved and serve to God everyday . Our school was only a public .

My hobbies are drawing , playing basketball , listening any kinds of music , watching movies and playing billiards . I spend my free time with my friends . when I was a kid I had a lot of dreams that one day I become a pilot or become a captain of the ship but I have a financial problem that’s why I took business administration for my college education .

There a lot of things I like to do , I like to fun with my friends and playing computer online games , I like painting Im essentially interested in creating works, and theres a lot of things I don’t like to is like eating fish that I don’t know what is, I also don’t like people who smoke on front and side of because I don’t like the smell and I have a headache when I smell the smoke of cigarretes .

And right now I shared many some of my personality and tell you some more , my personality is im friendly to anyonelse , and im a joker to class because im also funny i also had a lot of jokes , I love singing also and jamming with my friends , some of my badpoints im quite forgetful and sometimes I had a bad mood well every personality

We lived in manila because my grandfather’s had a poperty in tondo , we use to lived here because its would be a great experience to work and lived in manila. Its easy to find job here because manila is land of many opportunities theres a lot of companies and the education is good as well , mostly that suit to your courses . The difference here and province that’s its hard to commute here because of a heavy traffic happens every day and every night and the bad effect of pollution is very bad in health so its hard to breath . because of traffic mostly ive been late to go to school

Theres a lot of obstacle in life happen some of them I still have , like time management . Im quite forgetful sometimes I memorized words and after a minute I forgot the words that I memorized . And also the biggest obstacle happen in my life is lack of focus , I don’t know why but happens to me sometime but its okay because the greater the obstacle the more glory overcoming it .

For a long time its seemed to me that life was about to begin in real life . But there was always some obstacle in the way . something to be gotten through first. Come unfinished business, time still to be served ,a debt to be paid at last it downed on me that these obstacles were my life

Being a student is not easy, being a student is all about studies , school life requires hardwork and discipline but it can also be fun being devoted student . I have developed a routine of getting up early in the morning . The life of me being a student is a combination of joy and challenges because of the requirements in school that need to be fulfilled , but it is also a place where things can be learned

I am a good person as the youngest child and honest . my family raised me to be a kind, honest and have fear with god . my mother told me that never give up in my dreams and fulfilled my ambition that’s what give me strength that they trusted me and giving my guts to continue exploring things . when I was on high school I thought its easy to live but many problems come so do I do my best to become successful in the future to give my parents give all the sacrifices they gave to me .

My biggest achievements in life is , when I walk with my mother to stage and accept my diploma in front of many people in graduation day . That day is so special and very memorable to me , the day that im very proud of myself , because the achievement that achieve specially being an honored student is very worth it . my parents are very proud of me the joy in their face is joy to me . the achievements , successes or accomplishments we gain in school life years . Those achievements in middle, highschool or college student life that include my personal academic achievements . it may be the greatest the best or the bad but I never forget .

My mother is the best mother of all time she is a cheerful,kind,and beautiful. She is never afraid to speak her mind and can be very convincing when she want to . She sometimes upset a bit too easily , but she is just as quick to forgive and forget. I love my mom for all that she is – even when she’s angry. For all that she has done for me and for all that she’s taught me . My mom has been through a lot throughout the years, but she always kept fighting.She taught me to never lose hope even in the direst of moments, and she showed me how to look for happiness in the small things. She’s been trying to teach me to be more organized as well, but hasn’t succeeded yet. I love her for that too.

My father is quiet, patient and calm, and he has an adorable hit-and-miss sense of humour. I may not always find his jokes that funny, but I love him for trying. Dad almost never gets angry and he is always polite, friendly and nice to everyone. He is not the one to verbalize emotions, but he always shows his feelings through sweet gestures and little surprizes. He is the pacifist in our family and never goes against mom’s wishes, but he runs a large company witha firm hand. I love my father for all these characteristics and for all he’s sacrificed to build a better life for us. He’s worked day and night to ensure we afford good education and have a rich, wonderful childhood, and he has passed up many great opportunities for the benefit of our family. I love dad because he’s taught me that you cannot have it all in life, but with hard work and dedication, you can have what matters most to you.

Mom and dad may be very different people, but they complement each other perfectly. Together, they formed a super-team that was always there – and, thankfully, still is – to provide comfort, nurturing, and support and help me grow as a person. Their complementary personalities bring balance in our family, and each of them steps in whenever they are needed the most. Together, they taught me to believe in myself and have turned me into a fighter. Their care and dedication towards me and each other has served as an example of what healthy relationships should be like, and I love and admire them for that.

I love my parents because they are my parents, my good friends, my heroes, my role models, my safe haven, my pillars of strength.I am who I am today thanks to them, and I know that their support and affection will play an essential role in what I will become in the future.All I can hope is that, when I have children of my own, I will be half as good a parent as they were to me.

Life is a journey filled with lessons, hardships, heartaches, celebrations and special moments that will ultimately lead us to our destination, our purpose in life. The road will not always be smooth in fact, throughout our travels, we will encounter many challenges. Some of these challenges will test our courage, strengths, weaknesses, and faith. Along the way, we may stumble upon obstacles that will come between the paths that we are destined to take. In order to follow the right path, we must overcome these obstacles. Sometimes these obstacles are really blessings in disguise, only we don't realize that at the time. Along our journey we will be confronted with a lot of obstacles and hurdles that we will have to jump over and pass. What we go through our life and how we react to life situations determines the outcomes of how the rest of our life will be. At times in our life things won't go how we want it to go so we have two choice to either accept the fact that things didn't go the way we want it to go and let it pass or we can learn the lessons being taught by our mistakes, we should just accept the fact that life is not permanent but temporary and we just have to live one day at a time. we should realize that time wait on no man, it does not owe us.

As the only son in the family I was very hardworking person , That is shown through my determination and harkwork because id I didn’t believe myself I wouldn’t try as hard . I was taught to be caring anf thoughtful . I wasn’t taught anything elsa from anyone other than not to trust people .

I worked hard to get to this point of my life and working even harder to get to the successful and graduate part of my life.

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meteora-writes · 5 years

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Hide These Scars

Fandom: DC’s Legends of Tomorrow Pairing: Mick Rory / Ray Palmer (Pre-slash) Warnings: Blood, Mild Angst, Hurt Comfort, Emotional Hurt Comfort, Happy ending. Minor trigger warning? Description: Mick doesn't trust many people with the truth about how bad the damage from his burn scars actually is. He really should have told at least one of the other Legends... Authors Notes: This is for my Doesn’t Realize They’ve Been Injured square for @badthingshappenbingo Read on AO3

Very few people knew just how badly scarred Mick Rory was under all of those layers of thick clothing he so often wore. Len knew, but he was there when Mick got most of the burns. Lisa knows because she tracked Mick down after he escaped the ambulance after the damage was first done and helped take care of him during those first excruciating weeks. Stein had seen his upper body from a distance once, but the man never said a word about it. And then there was Ray. Ray, who has seen every inch of his scars thanks to their short time spent together in that Russian Gulag. He caught him staring in the shower before they were tortured, and he nearly ripped his head off for it.

The other legends saw hints of the damage over time. The burns that showed at the edge of his shirt collar or on his hands when he took off his gloves. He’s made a point of always wearing long sleeves around them. Around anyone that he wasn’t fully comfortable with. Because his scars look like a weakness to others. Can be a weakness if the wrong person finds out the extent of the damage done. And he is not weak. He doesn’t ever want to be viewed that way.

It’s fairly common for burn scars to be incredibly sensitive. It’s just how the skin heals. But a lot of people don’t know that if the damage is bad enough, and not treated properly right away, it can do major damage all the way to the nerves or even bone. Some people that kind of damage causes to have chronic pain. Others, well it gives them patches of skin without feeling. You can feel pressure. But warmth, cold, pain, all that is lost if the damage is deep enough.

Mick has several places on his body that had the latter type of damage. On both arms, his right side over his ribs where they wrap around and under his arm, his left thigh. Even a section of his back is without sensation. He feels pressure if it’s applied, but he can’t discern what’s causing it or if he’s injured there if he can’t see it.

Nobody knew that bit of information but Len and Lisa.

He probably should have told at least one of the Legends.

The creature they had been after on their latest mission was a tough one. Large and clawed with a tale like a whip. It looked like nothing any of them had ever seen before. It had struck Mick across the chest with said tail, grabbed him with a massive clawed hand when he was on the ground, and tossed him into the muddy river not even twenty feet away.

He’d insisted he was fine after. Bruised and pissed off. But otherwise fine.

He was wrong.

He’d started to feel dizzy on the walk back to the ship. So, of course, he ignored it. Figured it was probably from being thrown around like a ragdoll. He didn’t feel hurt worse than some scrapes and bruises, and as far as he could tell he wasn’t bleeding anywhere.

Everyone told him to go hose off when they got back to the ship. He was muddy and dripping all over the floor as they entered through the hatch in the cargo hold. He grunted a response about they weren’t much better off, but otherwise didn’t protest and headed off to go get cleaned up.

The dizziness only got worse as he walked down the long stretch of hallway that led to the closest bathroom to his quarters. He’d started to stagger, vision blurring as he leaned heavily against the wall to support himself. He was unconscious moments later.

Ray had been heading to the storage room he kept the mop and cleaning supplies in. Intent on trying to make Mick mop up after himself once the pyro was done showering and changing clothes. He didn’t get very far down the hall before he noticed something off about the color of the mud that was left behind in Mick’s wake.

Crouching down near one footprint, he reached out and dragged his fingers through the muddy mess. When he pulled them back for closer inspection, he found a bright red sheen of still warm blood mixed into the dirt and grime.

“Gideon! Where’s Mick?” He asked as he jumped up and took off sprinting down the hall.

“Mr. Rory appears to be unconscious in the next corridor. Shall I alert the other Legends?” The smooth voice of the A.I. asked.

“Yes!” Ray replied loudly, already rounding the corner to the next hallway. Mick was slumped against the wall, body at an awkward angle where he’d slid to the floor upon passing out. There was a puddle of blood forming on his right side, the color of it only just noticeable on his slowly drying clothes. If he hadn’t gotten the dark material wet they might have noticed sooner.

“Gideon can you tell me where he’s injured?” Ray asked, already trying to move the pyro so he was laid out flat on the floor and easier to search for injuries.

“There appears to a laceration across Mr. Rory’s right side between the fourth and fifth ribs.”

Sure enough, when Ray checked there was a small cut through the other man's jacket, and a larger one through his shirt where a claw likely got through the material. The wound wasn’t bleeding very fast, but it was still bleeding enough that over the twenty minutes it had taken them to return to the WaveRider Mick lost enough blood to pass out.

Ray pressed down on the wound to try and stop the bleeding, grateful when Nate and Constantine appeared around the corner a moment later to help bring the pyro to the med bay.

They had to cut Mick’s shirt down the front to get access to his injury, which, once that was done several of the others looked away. Clearly feeling like they were seeing a part of Mick the older man never wanted to share. The scarring was bad, not as bad as his arms or back, but it was still a gnarly mess of mangled tissue where it had never been treated by a doctor and allowed to heal properly.

They got the bleeding under control, and Gideon was able to close the wound and set Mick up with fluids and a transfusion.

The other legends all filtered out as soon as possible once Mick was in the clear. Even Sara, who made Ray promise to let her know when Mick was awake enough to tell her what happened.

Of course, Ray stayed. Waiting for the other man to wake up in his own time. He was too worried to be anywhere else right now, even if he wanted to be. He knew Mick would be fine. But what he couldn’t wrap his mind around was Mick not telling them he’d been hurt so badly. It was a deep cut. With enough blood loss that he had to have been feeling out of it long before he collapsed. He just didn’t get it.

A deep groan pulled Ray from his worrying, drawing his eyes up from the floor to where Mick was raising a gloved hand to rub at his eyes. When he took his hand away, he blinked a few times, hazel eyes taking a moment to focus. He grunted in annoyance when he realized he was in the med bay.

“Hey,” Ray said softly, drawing the pyro’s gaze to him. He gave a small smile, which Mick stared blankly at. “You passed out. That demon got you pretty good. You lost a lot of blood, but we got you patched up and Gideon has you on an IV.”

Mick’s eyebrows rose in surprise before he lifted his head and looked down at himself. His jacket and shirt were still on, though his torso was exposed where they had to cut his shirt. There was a bandage over his ribs where they had covered up the gash that ran through an intimidating mess of scar tissue.

“Son of a bitch...” he grumbled, letting his head fall back against the headrest of the medical bed.

“You’re going to be fine. Gideon said it missed hitting anything vital. Just a deep flesh wound.” Ray explained, eyeing the other man carefully as he rose from his seat and took a few steps closer. He stopped beside Mick’s bed, noting that he had closed his eyes again.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Ray asked after a moments silence, his voice low, with a clear note of confusion in it.

Mick snorted in response before opening his eyes and looking up to meet Ray’s gaze. “Didn’t feel it.”

Ray almost scoffed at that. “How could you not have felt it? That was a really bad cut, Mick. Frankly I don’t even know how you walked back to the ship without passing out sooner.”

Making a sound of annoyance, Mick forced himself up to sitting to be closer to the other man’s eye level, much to the protest of the younger man.

“I got nerve damage all over my body, Haircut. Can’t feel a damn thing in at least half my scars. I always gotta check ‘em after a mission t’ make sure I didn’t get hurt someplace I can’t feel,” Mick explains, his voice rougher than usually and clearly looking uncomfortable sharing this bit of information.

“Why didn’t you tell us? We’re a team, Mick. We’re supposed to look out for each other.” Ray asks after taking a moment to process this new information.

“Would you want everyone knowin’ you got a weakness like that? I c’n literally be stabbed in the back ‘n not feel it 'til it's too late.” The pyro grumbles, pointedly not looking at the other man now.

Before he could change his mind, Ray lays a hand on Mick’s shoulder, making the pyro turn his head back, hazel eyes meeting Ray's brown ones. “You know I would never hurt you like that, right? You could have told me.”

Mick studies his face a moment before looking at where Ray’s hand was still resting on his shoulder. He didn’t look annoyed by the contact, more like tired and resigned. He heaved a sigh before meeting Ray’s gaze again. “I know. ‘m not good at all this, ‘kay...” He says quietly before letting his eyes close again. He looks exhausted, and still a bit pale.

Ray gets it. Mick’s only ever had a few people he’s really trusted. One’s dead and the other is back in their own time having her own life. “I get it,” he says softly, letting his hand squeeze Mick’s shoulder lightly. Mick lets out a little huff of a sigh at it and leans into the contact a bit subconsciously.

“Why don’t you rest a while longer and when you’re up for it we can watch one of your favorite movies? I’ll make popcorn.” Ray offered, smiling when Mick opens his eyes again and looks a bit surprised.

“Real popcorn. With butter. Not that crap with yeast flakes that you try t’ make everyone eat ‘nstead.” Mick counters after considering Ray’s words with a wary expression on his face.

“Real popcorn, Scouts honor.” Ray promises, smile growing into a grin. He gives Mick’s shoulder one last squeeze before letting go and turning to walk away.

“Hey, Haircut,” Mick calls after, making him stop and turn back at the door. “Thanks.”

The look Mick is giving him is one of those rare unguarded ones, and it makes Ray feel warm all over. “Any time. Get some rest. I’ll see you in a few hours.” He promises before disappearing out the door, mind going over this new development and level of trust between them.

Back in the med bad Mick is doing much the same, a warmth in his chest and a smile on his face as he lays back down and tries to get some rest.

#legends of tomorrow #Mick Rory #Ray Palmer #AtomWave #blood #emotional hurt comfort #hurt comfort #Happy Ending #Pre-Slash #badthingshappenbingo

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blueyesandleatherjacket · 5 years

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Ghost of you, 14/?

Volume: 1.

Number of parts: 14/?.

Pairings: Human!Nine x Rose; Human!Ten x Jack; Clara Oswald x Olivia Baxter (OC).

Synopsis: "Rose opened the interactive screen and changed the setting for the attached glass wall. It became transparent. Allegro turned around to see Maxence wandering around his cage, a washable felt tip in hand. He had a screen open with all the results his team had entered on their work space and all the other walls were covered with his handwriting."

A/N: I've started writing this fiction last year after I had a particularly weird dream (as usual) and after I wrote the prologue, I've put it aside to work on other stuff. I've gone back to it not so long ago and decided that it would be the fiction I would post next, after not posting anything for a while. I must have watched I am legend and Game of thrones way too much to come out with something like this but I hope you will like it. I am not a scientist, nor did I have a particular knowledge of sciences. I do my researches on the internet like everyone to make sure everything is as close to the reality as possible. I have a literature degree only. Writing is what I do and it makes me explore next fields, and learn new things.

“It is an absolute human certainty that no one can know his own beauty or perceive a sense of his own worth until it has been reflected back to him in the mirror of another loving, caring human being.” - John Joseph Powell.

CHAPTER 14:

Amy didn’t leave Rose any second while she worked. It was an offer Rose had made to her: observing her as she worked so she could make her own opinion on her. She wouldn’t be biased by anything her patient would have said. Rose was only natural when she was working. She wasn’t pretending to be fine. She wasn’t wearing a mask. She was just herself and being a witness of it would help Amy understand her patient better. The therapist was glad that this idea came from Rose herself and not from her. The woman wasn’t gonna refuse this opportunity and she wasn’t gonna abuse this benefit either. Rose had also offered her to be a friend and that was very unexpected for Amy. Someone asking to be a friend. Rose hadn’t asked questions about why she had had to leave the session for a few minutes. She was giving Amy the time to build a good friendship before opening up to her. The therapist was sat beside Zachary who was keeping his eyes on the screen before him. He was trying to fix the intrusion that had happened a couple days ago. The hacker had left a real mess inside the codes and he had to fix this. Amy’s eyes were focused on Rose though. Standing in front of Allegro’s cage, she was reading the updates on his condition. She was studying the scans from two days ago and the ones Tegan had done in the morning. There was a clear evolution. Being exposed to the UV lights had caused him to develop some symptoms of the virus and react consequently. Now that the lights were off, he had gotten back to normal and was being completely normal again. He was a bit shaken by the situation but he was talking to Liv when he felt the need to. He refused to speak to Amy. He trusted Liv more than the therapist to be honest. The security guard came to the intercom and pressed the button. He was curious about his own situation. Except for Liv and sometimes Zach, no one was speaking to him. And no one was telling him much about how things were evolving for him, for Maxence, for the cure. “How is he going?” he asked. Rose raised her head from the notes she was taking and glanced at Allegro. She tucked her pen in the pocket of her white coat. She pressed the button to answer. “He’s better. Kyle has been brave by going inside unprotected to save his life. I’ve released him today. He hasn’t developed the virus thankfully.” “Antibodies?” “We’re working on that. His body has rejected the noctiagus very fast.” “It’s good. He’s very young. Would have been a really bad thing to lose him too.” “We haven’t lost you, nor Maxence.” “But we’re both in a cage, and he’s infected.” “Both of you are helping us to find the cure.” “How?” Rose opened the interactive screen and changed the setting for the attached glass wall. It became transparent. Allegro turned around to see Maxence wandering around his cage, a washable felt tip in hand. He had a screen open with all the results his team had entered on their work space and all the other walls were covered with his handwriting. “Someone hacked the system and made us believe that his sensors had to be changed. But when we proceeded to the change, the phial wasn’t the right one. Someone has replaced the sensors with a supposed cure that did more damages than anything else.” “Have you found who did this?” “Not yet. But we have a couple of detectives here. Maybe they will find this for us.” Rose chuckled lightly. It was her first joke in a while. She set the wall back to opaque. For a second, Allegro was silent. He put his hands in his pockets. “Who are those detectives?” “Camden McCarson and Donna Noble. Jack has recommended them. Him and Clara think the virus has been created by someone and the detectives are looking for the patient zero.” “Is there any chance to find him or her?” “Very little. But if we don’t try, we’ll never know.” “Indeed.” Their talk was over for now. Allegro walked back to his camp bed and lay back down. His hands behind his head, he looked at the ceiling. Rose finished taking her notes and put them aside. She went to Maxence’s cage and read the new formulas on the walls. He was doing quite a nice work. She was a molecular biologist too and all of this made sense to her… except for one thing. She pulled out her own washable felt pen and wrote down another formula right under the wrong one. She did it backward so he could read it from his cage. Then, she knocked on the glass wall to draw his attention. Maxence raised his head when he heard the knock and walked closer to where Rose was. She pointed to the formula she had written. He took his time to read it and checked his notes. He shook his head and pointed to another formula. He was trying to explain her how he had come to this conclusion and she was trying to tell him where she thought he was wrong. It was a silent communication, all in hand gestures and written formulas on a glass wall. It was fascinating for Amy. Any other couple of scientists wouldn’t have had this alchemy between them. They were working together as if they were the same person. If there was a picture next to the soulmate definition in the dictionary, it had to be them. They were the perfect representation of this word. Even in the darkest times, they remained together, hand in hand. Amy grabbed a pen and a piece of paper to note her observations. Usually, she was recording them but she couldn’t record what was happening here. She could later ask for the videos but they wouldn’t be as convincing as seeing it happen live. She was envious. She had never had this kind of love with someone. Not even with her ex-husband. The thought distracted her and, for a minute, she was unable to focus on Rose without thinking about what she had lost on this terrible night. She could hear it still. The screams, the screeching of the tyres on the road, the gasp of surprise, and that sound. That so terrible sound that was haunting her nightmares. She closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath. She needed to push it away quickly, before anyone could see her weakness. Now wasn’t the time but she was vulnerable and had troubles controlling herself. “Are you okay?” Amy jumped when she felt a hand touching her shoulder and turned around. Rose was done with Maxence. They had managed to find a solution to the problem they had found in the formulas obviously and Maxence was using a new colour to distinguish his new notes from the old ones. “He’s a busy bee,” she remarked. She hated how her voice was trembling, how Rose was seeing clear in the poker face she was showing. She hated being this vulnerable. Rose glanced quickly at her husband. “Yeah. We found something. I’m waiting until he’s done to compare our results.” If he happened to have the same as hers, it meant that they were on a good path. They couldn’t be wrong if the two of them were coming to the same conclusions. “He’s almost done.” Rose knew she shouldn’t do what she had in mind but she would do it anyway. She had promised to be a friend for Amy and her mission was to help her to get better. So she was gonna take her to the room she was sharing with Maxence and she was gonna force her to have some rest there instead of going to her office like she always did. The therapist was as exhausted as Rose and a bit of rest was hardly a luxury. Maxence concluded his formulas and Rose checked them. She smiled. They had the same results. They hadn’t used the same way to get there but the result was there. She pressed the intercom button. “Add this on your interface. I’ll transfer it all to Tegan.” Maxence nodded. He would do just that. Rose watched him sadly for a minute. She really wanted to come in there and hug him tight to tell him that everything would be alright. She would find this cure. She murmured an ‘I love you’ and told Amy to follow her. “Where are you taking me?” “To a place that used to be my oasis of calm before.” Amy had to admit that she was intrigued and it didn’t get any better when she recognised the private parts of the building. They passed by the dormitories but didn’t stop before they reached the kitchen. “First, let’s eat something. I’m rather hungry. Aren’t you?” “Sort of.” Amy wasn’t eating much. It had been this way since that night. She was eating just enough to have strengths for the day. This meal was the first real one she was eating in a while. But Rose wasn’t letting her refuse. She was even forcing her to eat a bit more than necessary. After that, she took her to the room she was sharing with Maxence, the room where all their pictures were. A room where she was supposed to find her own peace and have a better night of sleep.

Tegan was standing in the middle of his office, his arms folded on his chest, and his foot lightly tapping the ground. He was being impatient and angry all at once. Soon as he was done with the detectives, he had sent them to work. Jack had tried to stay and find out what was annoying him so badly but Tegan had resisted and convinced him that this matter only concerned Martha, Colin and him. He would let him know later maybe. No one else should know about this attempt of sabotage. Martha and Colin were there now. Both were sat on the couch and they were waiting for Tegan to speak. Martha was rather worried about this sudden summoning and Colin… Colin was Colin. He was sat there, impassible. Tegan couldn’t do anything against him. He was the real boss here. So he wasn’t worried. “Are you gonna look daggers at us all day or tell us what has made you summon us?” His words were sweating with sarcasm but he was trying to be as nice as he could be in front of Tegan. There was a witness and he couldn’t be caught bullying him once again. He doubted Martha would intervene between them but she could spread rumours just by talking with her stupid boyfriend, Ricky. Or Mickey. Whatever he was called. Tegan grabbed the report on his desk and threw it on Colin’s lap without a word. He was so furious he wanted to punch him in the face. But that wasn’t the attitude of a leader. So he was containing his rage. “One of you had mixed a new cure without telling me and this cure was given to our patient number one.” “And? What’s the matter? Isn’t that why you’re keeping him downstairs?” Tegan swallowed the anger rising in his chest. Colin was obviously looking for troubles with him. Martha was glancing at them worriedly. She didn’t know the story between the two of them but it didn’t seem to be a nice one. “This cure hasn’t been registered and it has been given without any consent. Everything is supposed to be given to me first for approval before anything.” “I haven’t mixed anything,” admitted Martha. “I’m still waiting for the new results. They haven’t been approved yet since…” She gave a look to Colin. He wasn’t in the elite team so she didn’t know what she could say before him. She didn’t want to make a mistake and be yelled at for it. Tegan was in a murderous mood and she wouldn’t cause him to have a go at her. “Martha, you can go. Not a word about this to anyone.” “What? A couple words and you believe her?” Tegan made a gesture of the hand to signify Martha that she was dismissed. He believed her. He would believe anyone but Colin. Martha hesitantly left the office. This matter was interesting but she wouldn’t know the final word of it obviously. “I have reasons to believe that you’re trying to sabotage our researches. I have no proof but I am convinced you’re still working on this cure, that you’re trying to beat us to it.” “Why would I do that?” “We both know why. You’ve been removed from the noctiagus researches and you’re angry. You hate me and I’m your boss now. To me, there are enough reasons here for you to get on my way.” “You’re being paranoid.” “You’ve created that cure.” “Maybe.” “Don’t try to lie. I know you did. I have access to all the cameras in this building. I’ve seen the videos.” He was bluffing and hoped that it would work because he wasn’t a good liar usually. Lying in his bully’s face was harder too. Colin didn’t let any reaction appear on his face. It was infuriating Tegan so much. “So, how’s good old Maxence? He hasn’t gone mad in that cage of his?” “Maxence hasn’t come back from his last mission.” “Oh, don’t play fool with me. I know he’s down there. Everyone knows. It’s not because you created this special team that keeps secret everything they do that there aren’t leaks.” “If you had good narks in this building, you would know better.” Colin was done with Tegan’s assumptions on him and his hidden threats that would lead nowhere. If the man had had the courage to do anything, he would have done it already since he had full power now. He had admitted himself that he didn’t have proof that he was guilty of what was done to Maxence. It was an attempt of murder. Despite his condition, Maxence was still the head and heart of this department and of this team. Attacking him was attacking the whole team. It had been made to destabilise them. But Colin was too clever to admit that he was guilty. “The same works for you, Smith. If you had good narks in this building, you’d be better informed about what is going on in your department.” Colin was playing it nasty. He was playing on the guilt that was eating out Tegan. He was the one who made that injection who could have killed his so precious mentor. He was the one who made a mistake and that was torturing him. “Shut up, Appleton. My mistake was created by some freaking bastard that messed with our stuff. And that freaking bastard is you, you can’t convince me otherwise.” Colin got up and grabbed Tegan by the throat. He pushed him so hard that the young man had to step backward to keep his balance. Tegan noticed for the first time that he was taller than Colin. The man was more aggressive but he was just like small dogs who kept barking and never really were able to hurt. Tegan was one of the bigger dogs who never hurt anyone in anyway, a dog that could attack and kill at any time. He hated this comparison because that just wasn’t defining him at all. He refused to be mean and evil for free. It just wasn’t in his character. “Careful what you say, Smith. You might be the boss now but there’s no witness at the moment and I can destroy you with a snap of my fingers.” “Go on then. Let’s see if you really have that pair you’re boasting about.” Colin had reached the point of no return this time. His fist collided with Tegan’s beardy jaw. The punch resounded in the silent office and the sudden shock threw Tegan against the wall behind him. For a moment, all he could see was black. He shouldn’t have provoked Colin that way and this punch was more than enough to sack him. It was one more reason added to the long list of why Colin shouldn’t be working here anymore. “There’s nothing you can do against me. I’ve created this cure and made sure you would inject it to him. His reaction to it wasn’t the one expected but I’m not gonna apologise for him almost dying. I should have taken his place when he was infected. But he gave it to you instead.” Tegan just laughed despite the pain of his jaw. Colin was so overwhelmed by his jealousy that he wasn’t doing anything right anymore. He was giving himself away – certainly thinking that Tegan would find no clue to prove this – and beating his superior. As if nothing mattered anymore. “You won’t find that cure, Colin. You’re fired.” “Oh, who’s firing me? You?” “Maxence promoted me to this position. So yeah, I am firing you.” That second punch met his face properly. He would have a black eye for sure but he couldn’t help but laugh. It was infuriating Colin but laughing was relieving him from all the pressure Colin had previously put on his shoulders. Now he wasn’t fearing this man anymore. It was over. Even when Colin threw him to the ground, he kept laughing. He didn’t even try to protect himself. “You’re so done.” “Shut up! SHUT UP!” The door was unlocked and suddenly two security members were surrounding Colin. They grabbed him by the arms and arrested him. They would throw him into a locked room for now. Tegan had pronounced his sentence but he wasn’t cruel enough to force Colin to leave the building and live among the infected. He wasn’t wishing it to his worst enemies. “Liv is on her way,” said one of the security members. “We’ve told her you would need her.” Tegan nodded to thank them. Indeed, he would need Liv. But it was only for the physical part. On the psychological part, he would need Amy. Later. When the adrenaline would have come down. When he would realise what he had done and what it would imply now.

Camden and Donna were surrounded by dozens of cardboard boxes full of results of different patients across the world. There even was a list of all the infected people – that was updated every day – and a list of some of dead. No one could keep clear records about the dead because no one was staying outside long enough to keep track of it. Camden wasn’t gonna blame them. Outside was hell and this place was safety. Even if it was too sterilised for his liking. And people were too serious. No sense of humour. Lots of glaring if he was making a remark. Most of them were wondering why they were here. Why would Tegan hire detectives? It was a mystery and Camden wouldn’t tell them about his mission. He was too focused on it. He would go to the end of it and go back to his little life in his manor. Donna was just as focused on their mission as he was. Highlighters in hand, she was adding colours to the documents she was reading. She was also writing down notes. In front of her, there were bottles of water and snacks. They had been brought earlier by Clara so they wouldn’t be starving or become too thirsty if they were working too much. She had also taken that opportunity to speak with Camden that she hadn’t seen in a while and given him some clues for his own researches. She doubted she would be of any help but better try than do nothing. “How have you met her?” Camden raised his head from the documents he was reading and glanced at Donna. She was having a break and drinking water from one of the bottles before her. She picked a snack and opened it. She had been curious about how Camden could know people like Clara Oswald and Jack Harkness. Two people that were very different from each other but also from Camden. Too joyful, too flirty. Not that Donna minded Jack flirting with her. “Who?” “Doctor Oswald.” “She wasn’t a doctor when I’ve met her. She was just a little girl.” “Are you that old?” “Oi!” “Just kidding. Relax.” “Her parents owned a paper shop. They had really good stuff. I used to order my notebooks to them and I was coming to get it when I was around. Clara was always playing in the shop. A girl full of energy and always smiling.” “I didn’t know you liked kids.” “I don’t. But she was different.” “That’s what we say.” Camden sighed and went back to work, ignoring Donna’s chuckle. She had had her answer, now they could go back to work. He was currently reading a report from the early days of the infection. Something dragged his attention. A name. “Wait, isn’t the nickname Missy ringing a bell?” “Nope.” “I’m sure to have seen that name somewhere.” He looked into the files he had already flipped through. This name had appeared somewhere. He remembered it well. He had a very good memory. It wasn’t in a list of names. It was a report. A report from before the infection. Missy or Myrtle Appleton. Sister of Colin Appleton and mad scientist. What was she working on at the moment? He glanced at the different reports he had under his eyes. Xeroderma pigmentosum. Disease of the sun. If you were suffering from this disease, you wouldn’t be able to go out unless it was night and the lights would be a bother. A terrible disease and a very short longevity. “Xeroderma pigmentosum,” he murmured. “Hm.” “There has always been this disease. The disease of the sun. People who can’t stand the ultraviolet lights. They are living a very short life and suffering from multiple complications.” “What’s the link with that Missy?” “Myrtle Appleton was a specialist of this disease. She was leading researches to find a cure.” “Was?” “Her methods weren’t very conventional.” And this was why she had been sacked from the lab she was working in and the reason why she had been forced to continue her researches in the deepest secret. If there was a path to follow for their mission, it was clearly this one…

To be continued...

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In the next chapter:

However, for Maxence, things were getting complicated. His brain seemed to have switched to a standby mode. A sort of sleep that wasn’t really sleep. He was just laying there with his eyes closed. Zachary was keeping an eye on his vital signs. His brain activity had reduced to the minimum, to the very minimum. If Zach didn’t have the other information under his eyes, he would think that the man was dead or about to be. Maybe he was dying. Zachary wasn’t very qualified on this field but he was clever enough to understand that something was wrong. The vital signs weren’t good at all. He entered an alert on their interactive group work. Someone needed to come and do a check up on him. Just to be sure that the fake cure given to him wasn’t having any effect on him anymore. Just a precaution not to lose him all of a sudden.

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#doctor who #ninth doctor #rose tyler #tenth doctor #jack harkness #doctor x rose #ficandchips #ghost of you

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vincent-marie · 6 years

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A Look Back on TREASURE PLANET

So recently I rewatched TREASURE PLANET for the first time in about fifteen years and… I'm not gonna lie, it's still my personal favorite of the 2D Disney animated features from the early to mid-2000s.

Let's be real. Of the 2D features Disney released around that time period, TREASURE PLANET is one of the more solid films. ATLANTIS: THE LOST EMPIRE had some interesting ideas and some really nice design work and animation, but it really needed to be at least two hours long if it wanted to flesh out the characters and the world-building without requiring supplementary material (like a special edition of Disney Adventure magazine). Hardly anybody remembers BROTHER BEAR was even a thing, and the less said about HOME ON THE RANGE, the better. (Seriously, that movie wasn't even worth the Steve Buscemi cameo.)

The only other film of that era that has really held up was LILO AND STITCH, and I'll admit it's probably a better film than TREASURE PLANET. It took more risks in terms of character, setting and originality, and emotionally it leaves more of an impact. (That scene when Nani sings to Lilo makes me cry like a baby every time.) My only problem with it is it always felt like two entirely different movies collided with each other and it never felt like they really meshed well. Otherwise, I agree with most fans that it’s a good film.

Also, of course, there was the excellent THE EMPEROR’S NEW GROOVE, which was just such a huge departure from Disney’s normal schtick and trying something more Tex Avery-esque, only for it to be a perfect storm instead of a total crash and burn. That is much to be proud of.

Going back to TREASURE PLANET, I can understand that most folks walk away saying it’s an "okay" film. I, however, am not one of those people. I've had a real soft spot for this movie ever since I saw it, but now I appreciate this film for additional reasons.

Namely, the animation and effects work. Holy crap, is this movie gorgeous! It's like watching Don Bluth's ANASTASIA, except I don't have to feel guilty about historical inaccuracies. (Now it’s just scientific inaccuracies, but STAR WARS gets away with that all the time.)

Directors John Musker and Ron Clements had apparently wanted to do a sci-fi retelling of "Treasure Island" since before they started working on THE LITTLE MERMAID. With that in mind I do feel like this movie would have fared better with critics back in the early 90s during the Disney Renaissance. However at that time they would not have had such elaborate and detailed CG effects within arm's reach. There's something I really enjoy about the use of 3D backdrops so that they may do sweeping camera movements, and that's not even getting into the lighting effects to establish atmosphere.

What's more, there are a lot of subtleties to the character animation that I never appreciated until now. You could just pick one character and focus on him or her during the whole movie and find a lot of fun little quirks in their dialogue or walk cycles.

Admittedly, much of this film’s appeal probably depends on how much of an animation fan you are. In my case I was watching John Silver’s animation and I suspected that Glen Keane was probably in charge of animating him (as there are moments when Silver looks so much like Ratigan). Those suspicions were confirmed during the end credits and I was delightfully geeking out about it.

It’s also easy to see where this film might not have had a lot of mass appeal. Most of the focus on the story is on Jim Hawkins and his daddy issues, which by the early 2000s was already a cliche of a character arc. And it’s not helped by the fact that Jim himself is... well, kind of on the bland side as a protagonist. There’s not a lot about him that makes him any more or less interesting than any other teenage male lead. But for what it is I think the movie did fine at establishing and building the relationship between Jim and Silver, which does have its warm and comforting moments. For both of them.

And at least the film is straightforward with its plot and characters and it’s not a structural mess like HERCULES, a previous venture by Musker and Clements.

Something I’ve noticed over the years is that TREASURE PLANET has a little bit of a cult following. I distinctly remember this one time when I was taking a storyboard class in college; we were assigned to do a “Master Study” assignment by recreating the key story frames in our favorite scene in a favorite animated movie. One of my classmates picked the scene when Jim is brought home to the inn by the police and embarrasses his mother. I recall being so impressed, and even a little envious, that she got the character design style down to a T. (If you’re wondering what movie/scene I picked for my Master Study, I picked the Big Ben scene from THE GREAT MOUSE DETECTIVE.)

Then, of course, some friends and I suspect that TREASURE PLANET might have fared better if it had been released a bit later, more towards the height of the Steampunk craze. It’s not quite what I would call “Steampunk”, as it takes place in a sort of alternate universe version of the 18th century and not the Gothic era, and most of their transport is solar-powered and not steam-based. Nevertheless it’s easy to see how fans of Steampunk could find it appealing, with its mostly earth-tone color pallet to evoke the painted illustrations of the classic novel it was based on. Also that combination of a pre-20th century aesthetic with out-of-this-world science fiction elements is pretty much, in my opinion, what makes Steampunk so much fun to play around with. Also, a robot made out of copper. End of story.

In terms of why this film didn’t do so well when it was released, I suspect what stunted its success was the marketing. I could be wrong, as I was actually living in Honduras at the time of the film’s release, but we got some TV stations from Denver, Colorado. I remember a lot of the TV spots spent most of their time highlighting the goofy comic relief moments with Morph, and there was a real emphasis on the presence of B.E.N., even though he's in less than one-third of the movie. In other words, the film's success might have been partially sabotaged by a marketing team that seemed to think if you don’t take your film seriously at all that will somehow draw in the crowd.

Although speaking of the comic relief characters, I actually don’t mind them that much. I always thought Morph had a lot of cute, funny moments that weren’t too obnoxious. As for B.E.N., I kind of have mixed feelings for him. On one hand, the directing team made better use of Martin Short’s improvisational skills than PEBBLE AND THE PENGUIN or WE’RE BACK! ever did. But on the other hand, does B.E.N. have to be so loud and shouty? However, while B.E.N. is a real screw-up, he’s not so much to the point where I want to see him get smashed with a sledgehammer. He’s generally likable, not at all loathsome, and just annoying enough, but not TOO annoying.

However while we’re still on the subject of B.E.N., I’d just like to add that the CG animation on him is really nice. Making him 3D gives him a sort of sense of solidity compared to his hand-drawn humanoid compadres, and to top it off his animation isn’t at all stiff or feels like the CG is holding him back. There is some really expressive squashing and stretching going on with his dialogue. It’s so subtle in places that you’d probably miss it if you’re not looking for it. A lot of CG animation studios at the time like Pixar and Dreamworks had not quite mastered squashing and stretching themselves, so kudos to Disney for pulling it off so well.

Now if I may indulge a little on why I remember this film fondly, my favorite characters were always Dr. Doppler and Captain Amelia. They are both fun and engaging on their own, but together they are weirdly adorable. Granted, I've always thought them getting together at the end was a bit rushed, but I still totally buy it.

(What I don't buy is that they'd be so eager to have kids after Doppler showed such annoyance and revulsion towards that toddler alien girl at the beginning. I get that the creators wanted some visual shorthand to indicate that they're an official couple, but they could have just been wearing wedding rings or throw in a little more of them dancing together.)

Part of the reason I love these characters on their own is the casting. I was already familiar with Emma Thompson from Ang Lee's adaptation of SENSE AND SENSIBILITY, and her character of Eleanor Dashwood was very quiet and reserved. You can imagine my disbelief and delight hearing her play an assertive, witty badass as Amelia. (As if I didn't already think Amelia’s design was cool.)

As for David Hyde Pierce, I had only occasionally watched FRASIER growing up, but when I saw this movie I was familiar with him through some other memorable voice acting roles, particularly that excellent Season 8 episode of THE SIMPSONS, “Brother From Another Series.” In other words, I already knew him to be funny, snarky and charismatic.

While I'm on about the casting, I feel like there's a totally wasted opportunity to have these two characters in a room together, say, before the black hole scene, exchanging witty banter to show how compatible they are in a casual setting. It’s a shame that Emma and David didn’t record their dialogue together, because with her being an accomplished writer and with his skills at improvisation, there could have been some good verbal combat by way of “Much Ado About Nothing-Meets-Frasier.”

But looking back, I remember I immediately loved Captain Amelia just on principal. As a kid I never really gravitated that much to any of the Disney princesses. I can’t really describe why, but it was mostly how they were marketed as just looking pretty and (arguably) kind of passive in their own stories. Not to mention how when Disney Princess became a brand, they really amped up the girly cutesy-ness to their preexisting images. Not to say there’s anything inherently wrong with cute or feminine things, but it really made me feel like a weirdo who somehow wasn’t fit to be called a girl.

Captain Amelia, on the other hand, had her own style of femininity by wearing a classy, more masculine captain’s uniform along with thigh-high high-heeled boots (that she has no problem running in). She had a no-nonsense attitude, she was focused and cool-headed in a stressful situation, she was downright snarky and took crap from no one. In other words, she was the type of woman I wanted to be when I grew up, and to this day she is my favorite Disney Lady, bar none.

And while I’m at it, I’m just going to add that I’ve always found Dr. Doppler more attractive than your standard Disney prince. Besides his character design looking like a canine version of Roger from 101 DALMATIONS, he just always seemed like he’d be fun to get a coffee with.

Well, that’s about all I really want to talk about regarding TREASURE PLANET. It’s a shame it’s not remembered by more people as it does have some really good elements to it, but in some regards I can kind of see why it wasn’t a huge critical success. If you haven’t seen it already I recommend checking it out as it’s a pretty solid standalone film that doesn’t need supplementary material and covers all the bases with the plot and some fun character moments here and there. If you’re an animation fan I cannot stress enough how you really need to watch it, or even rewatch it, because, again, the animation and effects work is just a real feast for the eyes.

#treasure planet #disney #animation #review #captain amelia #dr. doppler

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magicalgirlpropaganda · 3 years

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Things that are hot and sexy (because i do them)

• being unable to cite sources no matter how long you spend on it or how long you try

• getting a boost of motivation to work but on the wrong thing

• actually don't mind doing school work and have a thirst for knowledge but hate failure and not having time to finish assignments

• "wow i can't believe i finished all my assignments for the week! So fast. I have time to study and actually perfect my work and get better grades" *gets more assignments* *cries*

• i can't meet my own high standards

• being so stressed because of mom that i have horrible mood swings and im in a constant state of rage and anxiety

• being relieved when my friends invite me to do things because then i see it as an obligation and im "forced" to go (even though they'd understand if i said no, i see it as an obligation for my own mental wellbeing)

• wanting desperately to help others but struggling to even take care of yourself

• i can do the work, i can handle the workload. But i can't handle the pressure of my mom checking my grades

• i know that I'm smart and i know that I can do it. Ive been working so hard and my work is paying off but i need my mom to trust me

• overeating due to stress and went on an etsy shopping spree. Had to force myself to stop "stress buying" stuff and "stress eating"

• my dumb little passion project went on hiatus because im busy. Which is fine but a bit dissapointing

• i love it here. I don't want to leave. I love the art program. The work is a lot but i love my classes and my friends and my life here. What if one day something horrible happens and i have to leave because its too expensive?

• everything in my life is going good but my mom stresses me out so much that it's no longer going good

• I'm sorry for being incompetent... Even on my medicine. I am much better off than before and i can actually think but. I can't focus and i often miss intructions on assignments unless i write down absolutely everything. Why am i like this?

• my high empathy problems are coming up again because im so emotional.

• i am fine on 6 hours of sleep a night now but i wonder how long that will last. I don't have enough time to sleep for 8 hours every night. And maybe its because i take too many breaks but if i dont take breaks, i can't focus and everything just because thoughts that don't make sense

• im so stressed. Please just let me get my work done. All i ask is to be able to just sit down, relax, get my work done. I want to do so well on the exam later this week that I bump my B to an A or just even a high B.

• at least i enjoy school. High school and before was... Much worse. I don't enjoy spending hours trying to find out how to cite very specific topics and i dislike that one of my professors is a big perfectionist and so i often lose points on assignments (everyone does) no matter how hard i try to make it perfect. And i dislike having to check canvas so often because its difficult to navigate and i swear they try to hide assignments from us. And i hate that i have so much work that some weeks i wonder if i can possibly get it all done. And i hate group projects and i hate writing boring essays. But i love my classes at least. And i want to do well. I will do well. I am going to make all A's if it kills me. I was a B/C student in high school with occasional A's. If i just studied more (i never studied), i could have been one of the best students there, i believe. I didn't study, but I'm glad I didn't because it didn't matter as long as I got ok grades and I passed. I enjoyed my youth (not that im not still young...not that those years weren't the worst). But now i have to make A's or at least high B's because I know i can and I have to prove to my mom that I can do it. Maybe if i get good enough grades, she will back off some. Then I can prove to her that i really don't need her "help".

• this is way too specific of a list

• i want a job. If only i had time for a job. I have a strong work ethic. Im a good little capitalist slave. Please give me mone- i mean. Work. Yeah... Work...

But I dont have time for a job. Im very thankful that i dont need one. But I need to grow up and get a job because it will help me in the future

• speaking of which....a job i applied for months ago just called today... A lite late, buddy. Im 2 hours away now.

• but god... I so want to work there. I hear its a great place to work and the owner is gay (aka, not going to be homophobic to me)

• i wish i had my suitemate/neighbor's life. Like loudly talking on the phone and slamming doors as loud as possible all day long? And she's an RA so she gets paid.

• im calling my mom soon and getting this shit over with. Also i have somewhere to go with friends tonight so we can kidna- i mean recruit ppl for the theatre club. Im no theatre person but i am there for my friend and to make props.

• i can't do it.

• but if i do this, ill be free....

• maybe a quick meditation beforehand. Maybe self hypnosis so i can emotionally numb myself for a few minutes... Idk if im experienced enough to do that yet... But I've been doing it for years so might as well give it a try

• have i really resorted to self hypnosis to deal with the stress of calling my own mother?

• am i really so weak that even though everything is going well, something as simple as my mom calling to check my grades once a week makes me so upset that I cry almost every day about it?

• i know what she is doing is not legal. But what can I do about it?

• my mom thinks that im incompetent as well. That's why she checks my grades. She thinks I can't do it. She didn't even think that I had the ability to live by myself. I proved her wrong there.

• im working so hard partly because of her. So why does me working hard and thus not having time to call make her upset?

• it will all be over by tomorrow.

• perhaps calling her on the phone in a public space would be better. Maybe if she realizes that im not just in my dorm....

Luckily, my mom cares a little too much about social norms. She's used against me this all my life but perhaps it could be beneficial to me.

•thats right. I can just pack my stuff i need for my work. Then ill meditate for a bit and take a tea break. Ill go take everything to a public place with lots of people and call her then.

• i don't want to bring my friends into this, it wouldn't be right. But i wish that they would just sit next to me while I was on the phone. For emotional support at least. But i wouldn't ask them to do that, especially since we haven't known each other long. But i think it would make everything better if i had someone else to back me up

• people must be sick and tired of these posts. Im sorry.

• my mom says she's proud of me, but she doesnt act like it. She used to trust me. When i was 16/17, she would say that its up to me, my responsibility, that I knew what I was doing. Now, im 18. Why does she no longer trust me? I am an adult now. It doesn't make sense. I'm more responsible than I was at that age and im an adult now. It doesn't make sense at all, shouldn't she trust me more?

• i check my own grades religiously. Why is it necessary for her to do so too? What does that accomplish?

• i have an A, 2 almost A's, 2 low B's (but i know i can get the grade up and im studying hard to do so) and one C (it was an assignment that everyone did poorly on and another homework assignment that i did poorly on because I was exhausted). I know a C is bad but it's my drawing class. My favorite class. I do well in there and i think I'm probably one of the better peforming students in there. The C was just a small mistake and since we have more work in there now, getting that grade up will not be difficult. But i feel like all of my hard work just doesn't matter anymore. It will not satisfy her either way. Even if I had all A's, she would probably still be upset that I didn't have high enough A's. One of my professors says that she doesn't give A's on projects because "mistakes happen in art and you have to accept it".

• heavy workload... Im fine doing it but... I can't do it well with the amount of time I'm given. If i just had the weekend as well and not just the rest of the week. If i had just one full day more.

• this weekend will probably be dedicated to next week's work if i can do it early

• i can't call her. It's too stressful.

• im lightheaded just thinking about it

• i have every right to be angry. I have every fucking right to be angry.

• my day should revolve around schoolwork and studying. My weekends should revolve around taking breaks and light workloads. But every moment of every day revolved around my mom instead.

• and to think... If i lived in a place where college wasnt so expensive... Perhaps she would leave me be. Perhaps my grades would be so much better and perhaps I would be happy.

#vent post #rambles #long post #rambling

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