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jaeheewillalwaysbemyfav · 3 years

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Can u make mc is the actual owner of Cerberus when he was a pup but villagers killed him because they thought that he was a monster and what how would the brothers and the undateable react to that when mc started to cry when she saw Cerberus headcanons

Oh Beans! I totally spaced when reading this and only have the brothers.

I'll post what I have here right now, but this will also be on AO3, so if you keep checking/subscribe there, you'll get a notification when I've added the undateables! It might not be for a while though, since I'm about to start school again ^-^;;

Who's a Good Boy?

The Guard Dog of the House of Hades. A vicious, three-headed hellhound that only the fallen Morningstar himself could command. Unfathomably massive. Devourer of demons, angels, and humans alike. Notoriously difficult to groom.

That is Cerberus, Lucifer’s extremely volatile pet named after a figure from Greek mythology for reasons no one truly understands. The creature has struck fear into the hearts of its housemates, and the Devildom at large, for what feels like ages.

So when MC cries upon seeing the wolf-dog for the first time, none of the brothers are especially surprised. How could a human cross such a monster’s path and live, after all?

Except those who weep in fear usually don’t then barrel full-tilt into one of the monster’s furry legs, babbling incoherently about how they thought they’d never see him again.

One of Cerberus’ heads leans down to the human, and the brothers panic, fearing the worst. It opens its mouth, revealing razor sharp fangs—

And licks MC’s entire body in a saliva-filled canine kiss. Now covered in tears and drool, MC laughs as they shake themself off, teasing the hellhound by saying that they already showered today, thank you very much.

“So, did you miss me as much as I missed you?” they ask, giving Cerberus’ central head some under the chin scritches (the only part of its head they can currently reach).

Cerberus boofs loudly, enormous tail waving back and forth at an increasingly hazardous pace.

Lucifer

What.

Lucifer is dealing with a Lot right now. He almost lost the exchange student to his own dog, except apparently Cerberus used to belong to MC?! How?!

He orders Cerberus to back away from the human, part of him still convinced that this is somehow a combination of MC being mistaken and Cerberus playing with its food, but the hellhound actually growls at him and picks MC up by the back of their shirt, tossing them onto its back.

MC, in response, finds new places to scritch.

He stares at the scene for a few minutes, unable to process what his life has become.

Later, once Cerberus finally agrees to let MC leave, they explain to him that Cerberus used to be a puppy in the human world.

Obviously, he was immediately noted as strange due to his three heads, and the people of MC’s village believed him to be an omen of death. MC themself didn’t care, and just saw “lil’ Cerb” as a puppy like any other, albeit an exceptionally drooly one.

He used to be more or less normal dog-sized, but it quickly became obvious that Cerberus was growing fast, and would be much larger than even a wolf by the time he was done. He also became harder and harder to hide.

Unfortunately, one night they awoke to poor Cerberus being chased out into the night by a mob, never to return.

They assumed the worst, mourned, and got on with their life as best as they could. But seeing Cerberus— they knew it was the same dog as soon as they saw him — brought all those emotions right back to the surface.

It’s not hard to adapt to these strange circumstances. Lucifer is actually quite relieved to have someone who is both willing and able to safely help him in caring for Cerberus, and both MC and the hellhound delight in each other’s company.

Lucifer also won’t deny the pride he feels upon seeing MC, the one he loves, getting along so well with his son dog.

Mammon

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

The P A N I C of seeing MC within bite-chomp-murder-kill distance of Cerberus nearly killed Mammon.

What the hell is he supposed to do against that furball?! MC’s dead meat, a chew toy, he can’t save them again—

WHAT THE FUCK ARE THEY D O I N G ? !

Torn between passing out from fear and yelling about how brave and cool HIS human is!

So he kinda just… stands there, slack-jawed, as MC finds a spot on the creature that makes it thump its leg so hard the ground shakes.

Already he’s cooking up ways to use MC’s Cerberus-taming powers to get into all kinds of Shenanigans

Except he quickly learns that while Cerb is much more gentle with MC, it won’t let them distract it from its duties.

Has this resulted in MC semi-unwillingly riding Cerberus as it chases a terrified Mammon throughout the Devildom? Possibly~

Though when MC explains to Mammon how Cerberus used to be their dog, and what had happened to him… He can’t help but feel a touch more sympathetic to the hellhound.

Only a little bit though. It still does try and tear him apart whenever he gets too close, after all.

Leviathan

Levi’s fear metamorphoses into awe much faster than the others’. MC LOOKS SO COOL!! Riding the mighty Cerberus like a steed!

He desperately wishes he had the art skills to capture this iconic moment forever. But alas, a camera will have to do.

It’s a pretty good picture, the comparatively small human sitting on Cerberus’ back like something straight out of a fantasy novel. Levi even has a shot of them accidentally scritching a spot that makes Cerberus breathe fire (like a furry dragon!)

100% gets super emotional when MC tells him how they originally had— and lost— Cerberus as a puppy. It reminds him of his precious Henry 1.0 in some ways…

Begs MC to let him post the photos he took, along with their story as the caption. It’s just too good! It’s exactly like that arc in My Adventurer Boyfriend Keeps Adopting the Monsters He Beats in Combat and Now We’re Running Out of Space to Keep Them!

Like Mammon, Levi also quickly learns that just because he unlocked Cerberus’ tragic backstory, doesn’t mean that the hellhound will treat him any differently.

But sometimes, after a long “walk” with MC, the massive creature will be mostly asleep. And then, his hand shaking, MC will guide Levi to pet Cerberus’ flank. Its tail swishes softly, Levi’s own swaying in response.

Satan

He shakes his head and laughs, torn between relief, awe, shock, and lingering horror for MC’s safety. Of course they can tame even the ferocious Cerberus…

Guess all sorts of angry monsters like MC, huh?

He definitely wants to hear the story of MC owning Cerberus in the past, but first he’s going to drink in the absolutely dumbfounded expression on Lucifer’s face.

Toooootally doesn’t cry upon hearing MC’s story with Cerberus. No way, he’s still a cat person, he swears!

...No one is allowed to comment on Satan’s various burn injuries that occur over the next few weeks.

Not if they don’t want to be left with worse.

Asmodeus

OH SHIT!! Also, ewwwww

Once the fear for MC’s safety subsides, Asmo can appreciate the cuteness and hilarity that is MC with Cerberus. Truly no one is immune to their charms it seems, and their affections know no bounds.

...Is it that same quality that allows MC to continue to care for him and his brothers despite their past actions?

Asmo claims that the smoke from Cerberus’ fire breath is getting into his eyes, prompting him to leave. He has a good long stare-at-a-wall crisis for a bit.

Learning MC and Cerberus’ story only makes him mushier. Their tragedy got a happy ending after all!

As much as he loves MC’s charms, he still insists that they de-drool themself before touching him or any of his things. It stinks like brimstone!

Now if they need any help getting clean… That he can oblige~

Beelzebub

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH part 2

As one of the physically stronger brothers, when Lucifer’s not available it’s Beel’s job to groom Cerberus. He knows how dangerous that mutt is.

But apparently not for MC “Knows No Fear” over there!

As Cerberus continues to remain docile in MC’s presence, Beel starts to appreciate the cuteness of a human and their giant hellhound.

Unabashedly mushy upon hearing MC’s story about Cerberus. The themes of losing a loved one, only to find them much later in a new form… it kinda hits a little close to home for him.

(It’s not a perfect analogy: Beel knows MC isn’t Lilith, but having them as part of her legacy is undeniably cathartic. It’s why he doesn’t share these exact feelings with them, since he knows they’re uncomfortable with being compared to her excessively. Still, he can’t help but note the comparison.)

Naturally, he’s also very happy to have a very useful partner for grooming Cerberus. That living nightmare turns into an overgrown puppy whenever MC’s around. It’s much easier, and much safer, to work with this way.

Plus, it means he gets some quality time with MC! And there’s nothing quite like the fond smiles they share with him during these moments.

Belphegor

He has got to be dreaming. No way is this actually happening— nope, Mammon just stepped on his foot, and that hurt, he’s awake.

WHAT THE FUCK?!

Does MC not fear death? Is that it? Did that part of their brain just completely shut down when he killed them?!

Unlike the others, he can’t really shut down his panic. Sure, right now Cerberus is acting all cuddly, but that could change on a dime. That dog only listens to Lucifer, and right now all Lucifer is doing is staring gormlessly at it!!!

He nearly loses his hand trying to pull MC away from the creature (which it naturally did Not appreciate).

“Belphie, wait! It’s okay,” MC reassures him even as smoke blows out of Cerberus’ nostrils.

They explain their history with the hellhound, how they rescued it as a puppy and then lost it to the angry and frightened people of their village.

Belphegor can’t help but recall their expression when he told them about his imprisonment, the outrage there mingling with a much older emotion. Is that why they were so quick to help him?

He’s still wary of Cerberus. He refuses to be fooled by any facades the creature may be putting up.

But one day, MC invites him to one of their “playdates”. Cerberus watches him like a hawk, growling when he first approaches, but MC just shushes and soothes the monster until it allows him closer.

And maybe, after a few tense minutes, the pair begin to relax around each other.

And maybe, Lucifer has a picture of MC and Belphegor curled up in Cerberus’ fur as the three take a mid-afternoon nap.

And maybe, Belphegor lets him keep it.

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me cerberus #obey me scenarios #mine #my writing #lucifer #mammon #leviathan #satan #asmodeus #beelzebub #belphegor #mc

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five-rivers · 3 years

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Oh God, imagine the social media reaction to tinyMight, the feral adorable badass. Imagine his bullies and unfortunate small-time villains from 40+ years ago finding out who they tried to beat up. Imagine those few who have seen Yagi but don't know he's All Might wondering if skeleton man is All Might's twin or something. Imagine the shenanigans if the de-aging takes longer to undo. Interactions with Gran, Izuku, the other teachers.

Sequel to this.

Toshinori felt his smile grow progressively more fixed the longer the detective stared at him with that haunted expression. Was he in some kind of trouble? It sounded as if the villain had swapped him for another rookie hero, one named All Might (cool name!), but that shouldn't be Toshinori's responsibility. Maybe the quirk also linked them, somehow? That would explain why the villains had been trying to kill him, and why the banana hero- Present Mic didn't want him to leave. On the other hand...

Oh, he should just ask. That would be easier.

He opened his mouth to do just that when the detective spoke instead.

"This is going to be so much paperwork," he said.

"I'm sorry?" said Toshinori.

"Yagi," continued the detective, "I love you like a brother, but ever since I met you, my paperwork load has tripled. Tripled."

"I've only just met you?"

If possible, the detective looked even more haunted.

Luckily, at this point, Present Mic opened the door to the car and slid into the seat next to the detective. "Thanks for coming, Detective Tsukauchi," he said. "Anyway, we have confirmation on the quirk that did this to you, and, well. It isn't time travel."

"Thank god," said Detective Tsukauchi.

"Um. I thought it was teleportation...?"

"You've been de-aged by about forty years," said Present Mic, all in a rush.

What. What?

The car started up in the silence.

"Are you telling me that I'm in the future? Oh my gosh, that's an amazing quirk."

"No, no, you're in the present. You're not-- It isn't going to send you back to the past when it wears off. You'll just, you know, go back to your normal age."

"Wow. That's still a really cool quirk. Does it have to be forty years, or can he adjust the amount of time? Like, he could use it on people with degenerative mental diseases, give their families one last time with them. Or, or for witness statements! It would be pretty good for a hero, too, you could de-age villains into kids and then they couldn't fight anymore... but maybe it'd be a little unethical... Hmm..."

"You don't seem very, uh, alarmed?" said Present Mic.

"What would I be alarmed about?"

"All of your friends and family being forty years older?" suggested Present Mic.

"Haha, I don't have any of those," said Toshinori, smiling as large as he could and giving the hero two thumbs up.

Present Mic and Detective Tsukauchi just stared at him.

Then Tsukauch turned to Present Mic. "You said it'll wear off? When?"

"Uh. The quirk registry wasn't entirely clear about that. But it does wear off."

"The press is going to be a nightmare," said Tsukauchi, rubbing his face.

"Why?" asked Toshinori.

The hero and detective exchanged another glance. Toshinori could practically hear them mentally screaming you tell him, no, you tell him at each other.

Tsukauchi coughed into his fist. "Well, Toshi- excuse me, Yagi-kun, you're... You've realized those two were trying to kill you?"

"It was... sort of hard not to, honestly," said Toshinori. "Is it because I'm a hero or something?"

"How did you-?"

Toshinori silently pinched the fabric of the overlarge jumpsuit leg between his fingers and raised an eyebrow.

"Right. Well. You're the Number One hero."

"Wow," said Toshinori. It seemed to be something he kept saying, today. "How did I do that without a quirk?"

"What?"

"He's a late bloomer," said Tsukauchi, quickly. "A late bloomer. You're a late bloomer."

"Uh. Okay?"

"UA is so cool," said Toshinori, shielding his eyes against the sun as he looked up at the building.

"Haha, yeah," said Tsukauchi.

"Did I really go to school here?"

"You teach here, too!" said Present Mic.

"That's so cool," said Toshinori. "I can't believe I'm going to be a hero for over thirty years. That's like, the longest any hero has ever served."

"There are a couple who've served for longer, now, actually," said Present Mic. "Like Yoroi Musha, Recovery Girl, and Gran Torino."

"Yoroi Musha is still a hero?" asked Toshnori. "Like, actively? That's so long."

The gate behind them beeped, and Toshinori turned around just in time to take the bottom of a boot straight to the face. Needless to say, he fell over.

"Gran Torino!"

"Holy crap! I thought he'd dodge! Toshinori, you idiot, are you alright?"

"Ow," said Toshinori, trying and failing to recognize the voice that was referring to him so familiarly.

"Gran Torino, you really can't go around kicking people like that."

"Yagi-kun? Are you okay? Should we get Recovery Girl?"

Toshinori raised a shaking hand, thumb up. "I think I have a concussion."

When they got to the infirmary, it was already occupied by a couple students and... a strange homeless-looking man, but that didn't make sense. Maybe an undercover hero was stopping here for some reason? But why?

The students, one small and green, other with a mix of red and white hair, stared at him openly.

"Oops, sorry," said Present Mic. "Didn't think that anyone would be here before noon."

The homeless man sighed deeply. "Neither did I," he said, "and yet..." He fixed a baleful glare on the two students.

"I-I'm sorry, Aizawa-sensei," squeaked the green one. "I tried to get out of the way of the door, but I didn't want to run into Todoroki-kun, and-"

"It isn't your fault, problem child," said Aizawa with a sigh heavy enough to crush an elephant, who... was a teacher, evidently. Man. Standards for teachers' dress had really fallen in forty years, hadn't they? "The first year support class shouldn't have been doing anything with explosives of that caliber. Anyway, who's-"

"Are you Midoriya-kun's secret brother?" asked the red and white student.

"Who?" asked Toshinori.

"Todoroki-kun! You can't just ask people that!"

"You have to admit, he looks just like your father-"

"All Might is not my father."

"Riiiiiight," said Present Mic, guiding Toshinori to a bed with a hand on his back. "Now, why don't you just relax here while I go get Recovery Girl?"

"Coward," whispered Tsukauchi.

Present Mic shrugged and disappeared.

"So," said Aizawa, exhibiting a well-practiced air of boredom. "Are you related to All Might?"

"Eraserhead-san," said Tsukauchi, through clenched teeth, "may I introduce you to Yagi Toshinori? Yagi-kun, this is Aizawa-san. He's in charge of class 1-A."

Aizawa went pale. "Please tell me it isn't time travel."

"If it was time travel, we would be in an underground bunker or something," said Tsukauchi. "No, it was an age-regression quirk."

The green student inhaled sharply, then let off a small, "Oh."

"Wait," said the red and white student- Todoroki?- narrowing his eyes.

"Don't say it," urged the green haired boy.

"What do you think about quirks, Yagi-san?"

"Quirks are great!" said Toshinori. "I sure wish I-"

"Had a note book to write about them in!" interrupted Tsukauchi, loudly.

Toshinori frowned up at him, confused. What did he say?

Todoroki rubbed his chin with a finger. "To... analyze the quirks in?" he asked.

"Um," said Toshinori. "Yes?"

"See, Midoriya-kun?" said Todoroki, turning to the other boy. "He's just like you. You're the same." He touched his pointer fingers together.

Midoriya, for his part, looked extremely flustered.

"The same," repeated Todoroki. He looked back at Toshinori. "Do you happen to have a brother? A twin, perhaps?"

"Uh, I don't think so? But, then, I was a doorstop baby, so..."

Todoroki nodded sagely. "So you must have reunited with your long lost brother, the skeleton man, later in life-"

"Stop calling him that!" hissed Midoriya, yanking on his friend's uniform jacket.

"I wouldn't have to, if you'd just tell me your uncle's name-"

"He isn't my uncle."

Both Aizawa and Tsukauchi looked like they wanted to die. Or at least be somewhere else.

"Uh," said Toshinori, wanting to change the subject even with his concussion. "What are your quirks, anyway?"

"My quirk is called Half-Hot, Half-Cold," said Todoroki. He raised his hands. "It allows me to make fire from my left side, and ice from my right."

"Oh, neat," said Toshinori. "There must be so many applications like that! I mean, combat is obvious, but it might be even better for rescue work- Lots of casualties in natural disasters are because of exposure, you'd be ideal to counteract that in any weather. Or if a victim is going into shock! Plus, it'd be useful to have in everyday life, if they ever change the public quirk usage law- Did they change that?"

"No," said Aizawa.

"Actually, yes," said Tsukauchi, "but probably not in the way you're thinking..."

"Don't use your quirk in public," said Aizawa.

"You don't have to worry about that, because-"

"Don't use your quirk in public," said Tsukauchi, interrupting again. "Please."

"He does have a hero license, though, so technically-"

"Problem child."

"Sorry."

"Oh, oh, and what's your quirk?"

"Please do not fall out of the bed, To- Yagi-kun," said Tsukauchi.

"I'm not going to," said Toshinori.

"Well," said Midoriya, who had a very complicated expression on his face, "my quirk is, uh, a strength enhancer..."

"Just like yours," said Todoroki, as if he had just made an irrefutable point.

Oh, yeah. Toshinori's older self had a quirk. Maybe that's what Tsukauchi was trying to keep him from talking about? He wished they had told him beforehand if it was some kind of secret.

Also: was Todoroki implying that Midoriya was Toshinori's son? That'd be, like... Wow. If this was forty years in the future, and Midoriya was about the same age as him, that meant he'd had Midoriya when he was forty? Hm. He wasn't sure how to feel about that...

Luckily, before he could start in on a spiral about whether the idea of himself at forty or the idea that he had kids was the thought that was bothering him, Present Mic came back with a little old woman who was, apparently, Recovery Girl.

Wow. Yeah. That was sure a change in... everything. Yep. Really driving home the whole 'forty years in the future' thing. It sure was.

Recovery Girl sighed deeply. "What did you get yourself into this time, Toshinori?"

"Gran Torino kicked him in the head," said Tsukauchi.

"I'm going to skin that man alive one of these days," said Recovery Girl. "But I was talking about the other thing. Although, I suppose that's rather obvious. Do you mind if I heal you, dear? It will probably knock you out for a little bit."

"Sure," said Toshinori, who was beginning to strongly desire an escape from the increasingly awkward conversations around him. "Knock me out. Please."

"Alright, then."

And then she did.

#boku no hero academia #fic #prompt fill #ask #answer #bnha #this prompt has been marinating for #uh #a while #oops

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imagine-darksiders · 3 years

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Just like. Head canons. For our lovely Dad Guys. Whoever you want. Whatever you want. I don’t care. Just. The Fluff Beast. 😫 Getting too strong...! Help! (I’m sorry 😂 Seriously, just do whatever you want. It’ll be beautiful and I’ll love it regardless)

Well, I’ve had this little Eidad fic on the back burner for a while now, sitting in my drafts and not doing a while lot. This seems like a good time to post it <3 <3 <3

It’s a sick fic. Nothing too drastic, just an old maker getting worried about his human friend.

---

Eideard has always been an especially unflappable maker, a trait that tends to come with the territory of being the village elder.

He never gets flustered, and he always maintains the poise and composure expected of him.

Unless, of course, one of his fellow makers is under threat. Only then, by his own admission, does decorum fly out of the proverbial window and little else but worry takes over him, mind, body and soul.

Recently, he's come to discover that the same rule applies to a very specific, little human.

----

“I'm cold.”

That ought to have been their first clue.

You're sitting in the maker's forge, seemingly content to remain still and quiet beside the roaring fire whilst Alya and her brother, Valus, are hard at work at their anvil.

“Cold?” the former twin laughs incredulously, glancing up from the sword she's forging to turn and fix you with a raised brow, “You're sittin' close enough to that fire!”

Her brother though, always the more perceptive of the siblings, ambles around her and makes his way towards you, tugging at the green cowl that sits around his neck. You may be vastly smaller than him, but even behind that visor, he can see the shivers you're trying to suppress. Blinking, you watch him as he bends onto one knee in front of you and holds his treasured garment out, uttering a low, almost undetectable whine.

“I'm okay, big guy,” you murmur, sounding far from it, “Think I've just got a bit of a chill.”

At that, Valus doesn't wait for you to reach up and take the cowl from his grasp and instead, with a huff, he leans forward to drape it around your shoulders, his thick fingers tucking it up underneath you as carefully as he can. Once he's finished, he sits back on his haunches to inspect you, satisfied when you snuggle further into the fabric and give him a shy smile.

“Thanks.”

Pacified, the burly maker returns your smile with a nod and pushes himself onto his feet, turning back to his sister and the anvil.

With their attention elsewhere, you allow your smile to fade, burying your face into Valus's scarf.

You're loathe to tell them the whole truth, that accompanying your chills is a raw throat that feels as though it's been rubbed tender by sandpaper, and an ache in your limbs that only grows worse and worse by the hour.

There's no denying it.

You've come down with something.

At the very least, the makers don't know a lot about human biology, so you're relatively hopeful that you'll be able to pass this off as a mundane occurrence – definitely not anything they should be worrying about.

There is an unspoken rule amongst the giants, one that came about the moment they first laid eyes on you – a small, cowering little thing whose world had been destroyed only a few days prior.

The rule, never spoken aloud, yet understood by all, is that you are a youngling – despite your insistence to the contrary – and younglings are to be protected, especially those who have yet to reach their first century of life.

It also doesn't help that you're a human, and consequently only stand about as high as the makers' knees.

But for as endeared to you as they all are, there are none who are quite so taken as Eideard.

The village Shaman, Muria, speculates that their elder has seen more younglings and friends die off over the centuries than any of them, and thusly, that's where his protective tendencies stem from.

Thane, on the other hand, attests that Eideard has always been enormously tender-hearted, long before grief softened his edges.

If he were to find out that you're sick, you can't imagine he'd take it well.

Bottom line? You'd hate to worry him.

Unfortunately for you, there are some things that can't be kept from a group of watchful makers.

It's impossible to hide glassy eyes, tremors that rattle your whole body and a sudden, explosive sneeze that causes both Alya and Valus to jump out their skin, tools clattering to the stony ground.

“Stone's blood! Bit of warnin' before you go makin' noises like that, please!” Alya exclaims, resting a hand over her heart whilst Valus hurries over to you again.

“It was just a sneeze,” you try to protest, but the forge brother isn't buying it. Without a word, which isn't unusual, he clenches his fists and heaves himself about on a heel, marching purposefully towards the forge's entrance, deaf to his sister calling after him.

“Oi, Valus? Where are you off to?”

It's hardly a surprise that she doesn't get a response.

He disappears through the doors and you share a look with his sister, who hesitantly asks, “You.. sure you're okay?”

The fake smile you plaster on your face is apparently as unconvincing as it feels, judging by the flat look you receive from Alya in response.

A few moments later, the doors swing open once again and your ears pick up two pairs of resounding footsteps thumping through the forge.

Valus appears first, lumbering up the short flight of steps onto the raised dais where he's soon followed by the second maker, a particularly concerned-looking Eideard.

As soon as the elder's pale, grey eyes lock onto you, you slump forwards in defeat, any hope of riding this illness out in privacy now dashed. Of all the makers in Tri Stone, Eideard is the most well-versed in anthropology.

Shooting Valus a glare for his betrayal, you swallow your cough and groan, “Valus, I told you, I’m okay. You didn't need to bother Eideard.”

“I for one, am very glad he did.” From underneath his bushy, furrowed brows, the old maker studies you closely until you duck your head, weighed down by the heaviness of his stare, the whole while, your throat burns with the need to cough. Then, in a blink, his eyes widen again and the fingers clutched around his golden staff turn white as he breathes, “You're sick...”

At once, Alya shoots upright from where she'd been leaning casually against the anvil. “Sick!?” she blurts, her gaze snapping between you and her elder, “Why didn't you say somethin'?!”

“Because!” you argue, hating that Eideard’s face now appears almost twice its age thanks to the worry lines permeating his forehead, “It's not a big de-” As fate would have it, the raw spot at the back of your throat finally chooses its moment, and before you can stop yourself, you're lurching forwards into a vicious cough that burns at the tenderness like acid, bringing tears to your eyes and shame onto your clammy cheeks.

You become vaguely aware of a vast hand coming to rest on your back and fingers that pat you gently until you can catch your breath. Even after you've hacked yourself silly, you push Eideard's silken, blue sleeve away and try to get to your feet, hoping that if they see you standing, they'll be less inclined to fret. But the moment you begin to move, the same hand is cupping around your trembling body and you find yourself being lifted up and nestled against a broad chest by a maker who is wholly undeterred by your feeble resistance.

“I'm not a baby, Eideard!” you complain, trying to wriggle free as the maker presses delicately on your chest, forcing you to lay across his forearm, “Put me down! I can walk just fine.”

“Easy, now. You'll only hurt yourself further if you keep that up,” he rumbles in a tone that's far too gentle for your pride to withstand.

Embarrassed, you wilt down behind his fingers when you hear Alya's stifled giggles, but the old maker doesn't pay her any mind, simply turns away from the anvil and begins to shuffle down the steps, heading for the entrance. Almost immediately, you miss the fire's warmth and Eideard feels your shivers turn violent, his heart seizing at the sound of your teeth chattering together like rapid gunfire.

“You – you're not going outside, are you?” you croak, pulling Valus's cowl up to your neck, “It's freezing!”

“The weather is perfectly mild. You, on the other hand, are burning hotter than forge-fire.”

You open your mouth to protest but find yourself cut off when he continues, “I’ll not have this sickness turning into something worse. We may belong to separate species, but I wasn't born yesterday. A little fresh air will do you some good.”

“Ugh. You sound like my mum.”

His reply comes in the form of an affectionate, rumbling chuckle that you can feel travelling up through his palm and into your bones. Letting out a final huff, you flop backwards and turn limp in his hand.

It isn’t as though you can fight your way out of the Old One's grip, after all. For such an ancient maker, Eideard is powerful, and his age does little to detract from that strength. The meagre resistance you put up is also proven ineffective by the silken softness of the fur trim on his sleeves that you run between your fingers.

Perhaps if you'd been looking at Eideard's expression instead of the doors as he pushes them open, you'd take notice of the disquiet lingering at the edge of his eyes.

He plans on taking you to see Muria in the hopes that she might have a remedy that can alleviate the fever spreading through your delicate body, and, failing that, he will sit with you in the peace of the night air and keep you still and safe until your tremors cease and his old heart stops trying to beat its way out of his ribcage.

You're more than welcome to resent him for this, he muses quietly, but after seeing so many of his people lost to corruption, it isn't such an easy feat to quell the pervasive anxiety that writhes like an impatient, snarling beast in his stomach, and he would much rather endure your resentment if it means keeping you out of harm’s way.

The village elder is supposed to protect his own, and glancing down at you and seeing that you've buried your face into the fabric of his robe to escape the cold, Eideard realises with a sudden surge of paternal drive, that you fall under the scope of those he considers 'his.'

The old maker clutches you possessively against his chest and hurries as well as his tired legs can carry him up towards the Shaman's gazebo, knowing that his soul will never know peace until you’re well once again.

#darksiders #darksiders 2 #Eideard #Eidad #super rushed #sorry #Sick fic #reader #g/t

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acciomalfoy · 3 years

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fool’s gold (cedric diggory x reader)

summary: you’ve been best friends forever, and valentines hasn’t meant much until now

a/n: GO FOLLOW @fromashescomephoenixes THIS IS YET ANOTHER COLLAB WITH HER!!!!! FOLLOW NOW AND CHECK OUT HER FICS!!!

“I’m still not happy with you,” I said, and Cedric only laughed. “Stop laughing!” I scowled, and he swung an arm around me.

“The tournament is well and truly over, Y/n, and you never have to go in the Black Lake again.” He grinned at me, and I only scowled.

“You could’ve gotten killed, or worse, lost the tournament!” As a member of Slytherin, winning is absolutely everything. Maybe Ced dying was a tad worse.

“But I won.” His shit-eating grin said it all, and I whacked his shoulder.

“Get off of your high horse.” I shook my head, and he stood up. For some reason he had taken to sitting at the Slytherin table during meals, not that I was about to complain.

“Look’s like Sprout’s about to charge me, I’ll see you in potions?” He asked, and I nodded. Potions was definitely my favourite class, and it had nothing to do with a greasy haired git, but everything to do with the golden boy I sat next to.

“See you then.” Not a second after he left Eleanor Flint clutched my shoulder.

“You’re totally dating! When did he ask you out? Was it right after Chang dumped him, or did he wait a while? Waiting is totally more classy, but I can see Diggory not wanting to wait.” Eleanor babbled, and I stared at her.

“We aren’t dating, and nor does he want to.” I said, but as soon as the words left my mouth I knew I had made a mistake.

“But you want to.” El screeched, and I quickly covered her mouth with my hand.

“No! Cedric still likes Cho, I’m certain of it.” I said, and El pushed away my hand.

“Rumour has it she broke up with Diggory because you were in the lake and not her. If Diggory liked her more than you she would have been in the lake.” El was batshit crazy, I was positive.

“I was in the lake because I’ve been best friends with Ced since first year. I’m not listening to this, El.” I stood up quickly, and before she could continue arguing with me I speed walked my way out of the Great Hall. Good thing too, since I realised that I had left my advanced potions textbook in my dorm.

The dungeons weren’t too far from the Great Hall, and I made it there in what I would consider record-timing. My textbook was on my desk, and it wasn’t until I was leaving did I see the note on my bed.

I gingerly picked up the note, all too aware of how the Weasley twins had it out for the Slytherin house, and froze.

I’m like a crow on a wire, you’re the shining distraction that makes me fly.

I spun around the room, as if the writer of the notes would be standing in front of me, but the room was still, void of life aside Eleanor’s plant that was bordering death anyway.

I shook my head and stuffed the note in one of my robe pockets. I really didn’t have time to contemplate shit like this. With my potions book in my bag, I turned and left the dorm, soon entering the common room and eventually the hallways of the dungeons. I didn’t have to go far, since the potions room was only a couple corridors over. I slid into my seat seconds before Snape swept into the room, and I looked at Cedric who was already staring at me.

“What?” I whispered, and he looked at Snape before replying.

“Where were you?” He asked, and I pulled out my quill, ink pot, and finally some parchment.

My dorm, why?

You left the hall in a rush. Why’d you go to your dorm?

I forgot my potions book. Besides, El was killing me and I had to get out of there.

He nodded thoughtfully, and I decided to listen to Snape for once in my life. Anything to keep my mind occupied.

Later that afternoon, we were sat in the dark, stuffy tower for divination. The scent of lavender and peppermint was already overcoming my senses to cloud my mind and make me feel extremely sleepy. According to Trelawny peppermint was meant to sharpen seeing abilities, however I’m not sure anything can sharpen the non-existent...

Luckily, this was another class with Cedric. Merlin knows why we chose to continue it after OWLs, but I suppose that’s the Slytherin in me again: proving I can do it, and do it best.

Right as I’m preparing to drift into my sleepy daze, Ced nudges me.

“Trelawny. Five o’clock,” he mouths, nodding his head in the direction of my left shoulder.

“Hello dears!” She springs up, slightly like a jack in a box. I entertain the thought of telling her so, but she cuts me off as I open my mouth.

“Have you seen anything in your teacups yet?” She questions, staring at us in a way that is a touch too dramatic for my taste.

“Erm, yes.” I respond, trying to save Cedric’s skin since he just saved mine. Grabbing his emerald green tea cup, I grasp the golden yellow handle, and twist it three times. I’m not sure why... it just seemed right.

I glance at my book, but decide to wing it.

“I see a knight- or er. Perhaps a hero?” Trelawny nods, her eyelids fluttering as she rests them close and furrows her brow.

“No, it’s a knight in shining armour.” I nod, settling on this seeing. Cedric glances up slightly at the word ‘shining’ but shrugs it off quickly. He smirks at me,

“Oh, and what does that symbolise y/n?” His eyes flash slightly with mischief.

“It means you should keep your big mouth shut!” I glare at him, but can’t help cracking into a smile after a moment in his laughing gaze.

“Well dears,” Trelawny chirps at us, grabbing for the cup. “Indeed! I see...”

She gasps as I lazily flick my wand to float the cup off of the ground. I still wish I had remembered this trick when we were working with crystal balls...

“Oh Professor!” I groan miserably, despite the traces of thick sarcasm. “Please don’t say I’m due to die,” I throw myself back in my chair while Cedric tries to hold in a snort.

“I’m afraid you are my dear, in a most unfortunate incident involving a revolving door and a popsicle...”

—

“Charms is the worst.” Cedric groaned from beside me, and I nodded. Charms was fucking boring is what it was.

“Flitwick said it was a practical today.” I remembered, and Cedric brightened up considerably.

“About connecting minds?” He asked, and I nodded.

“I think so, partners?” I answered and asked, but I already knew what Cedric was going to say.

“Howdy.” He tipped an imaginary hat at me, and I sniggered.

“Attention seventh years! I’d like you all to get into pairs, and I will form the mind connecting spell. It will last for just one minute, and there may be minor discomfort as the minute comes to a close. Jordan and Berg, you’re first up.” Flitwick began the charm on the first Hufflepuff and Slytherin duo, and they laughed excitedly as the charm went into effect.

“Diggory and L/n, let’s get to it. Face one another and stare into each other’s eyes.” Flitwick instructed, and Ced beamed at me as we stared at each other.

“Now hold each other’s hands, please.” I felt myself growing sweaty at the thought, but Cedric took my hands with ease, and without breaking eye contact.

His grey eyes were more startling than ever, and I couldn’t help but wonder what the hell the pretty boy was thinking.

“Ut copulare,” Flitwick began murmuring until out of the corner of my eye I watched a flying wand hit the professor. “Oh!” Flitwick let out a startled cry, and Cedric and I nodded simultaneously as we broke eye contact to stare at him.

“Uh oh.” He tittered nervously, and I swallowed. The last time I heard a professor say uh oh was when Slughorn brewed a de-aging potion and it exploded on one of my classmates, rendering them to infancy for a good three weeks. Rumour had it she still used the pacifier from time to time.

“Do you feel okay?” Flitwick asked, and I nodded.

“I feel fine, Professor. In fact, I’ve never felt better.” This was a lie. I had woken up with a knot the size of a rats nest in my hair this morning, as well as having forgotten to do the potions homework last night. However, my teacher looked relieved, so I smiled at him.

“Same here.” Cedric added, and Flitwick sighed.

“Just in case the spell worked, I won’t be able to perform another one on you until at least a week from now.” Flitwick said, and with that he moved to another pair.

“Well I’d say that went well.” Cedric said, and I snickered.

“About as well as your date with Cho.” I was talking about his final date with Cho, which ended in her pouring a milkshake on his head.

“You’re going to be the death of me.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, and I stuck my tongue out.

—

“Salazar, what’s the reasoning for all these decorations?” I asked as we left charms. Pink and red decorations hung from ceiling to floor, and it was then that I realised it was Valentines next week.

“Every year the house elves go overboard. We should talk to them about it sometime.” Cedric wrinkled his nose, and I nodded. This was just too much.

“What’s going on over there?” I pointed to a circle that had formed, and it looked like two people were in the centre of it.

“Only one way to find out.” Cedric said, and we slowly approached it. Adrian, a fellow Slytherin, nodded at me.

“What’s going on?” I asked him, and he gestured to the pair inside the circle.

“They’re trapped until they kiss, because a rose fell from the ceiling right in front of them. It’s magically binding, so we could be here a while.” Adrian explained, and I tugged on Cedric’s arm.

“Did you hear that? It’s like mistletoe, they can’t leave til they kiss. It only happens when two people are in love.” I repeated, and Cedric nodded as we walked away from the circle.

“I barely survived the mistletoe.” Cedric said with a shiver, and I laughed as I remembered the girls that had chased Cedric down while waving mistletoe. It had been a sight for sore eyes.

“It’s okay, Ceddie. Time for lunch!”

—

“Could we maybe eat by the lake?” He asked, already having dodged three eager third years. The Great Hall was as busy as ever, and I noticed I myself was subject to several glares.

“I suppose.” I dramatically consented, grabbing two pumpkin pasties and some carrots with hummus from the nearest table. “Let’s go,” I led the charge.

A particularly determined looking Goyle stood directly in my path, stationed by a suspicious rose. I debated how best to get around, when I felt my feet lift off of the floor altogether.

“Cedric!” I shouted as I was levitated a good ten feet across the hall towards the door. I could only hear Cedric’s laughter as he ran below me, and I ducked as I saw the doorway coming straight for my head.

“Mr. Diggory!” McGonagall was heard shouting across the hall, however we were already halfway to the lake.

Dissolving in a fit of laughter, we sank onto the bank of the lake.

“Ah, back where it all began.” Cedric grinned towards me. I could think of a great deal of memories surrounding this lake, but I wasn’t entirely sure of any that had marked the beginning of something.

“What began?” I nudged him with my elbow and took a rather ‘unladylike’ bite of my pumpkin pasty.

Cerdric shrugged, and responded by taking a large mouthful of his own. He then grinned with a pumpkin paste covering his teeth.

“Ugh, you’re disgusting!” I threw a pebble at him gently. He simply transformed it into a golden finch. And so, another calm, sunny day was passed by the lake.

••••

After lunch, I took a quick trip to the dorms while Cedric was in quidditch practise. I needed to finish this potions essay, and only one person could save me.

“Come on, Y/n! You’re so slow.” Pansy teased as she speed-walked to the dorm, and I only huffed.

“These legs weren’t made for walking!” I shouted as she entered the portrait, and the only response was the faint echo of her laughter.

By the time I stepped through the portrait, the common-room was empty aside a few stray kids from the years below. I walked through the short hallway to our dorm, and Pansy was staring directly at me as I came in, a note in her hand.

“I’m the first to admit that I’m reckless, I get lost in your beauty and I can’t see two feet in front of me.” Pansy read it aloud, and I froze.

“What the fuck is this?” She asked, and I shrugged.

“I don’t know. I got another one yesterday, I kinda forgot about it.” I explained, and Pansy raised an eyebrow.

“That’s sus, but whatever. Come on, let’s get to the library!”

—

“Holy Hippogriff!” I jumped as I felt a hard impact in my lower back.

“You okay y/n?” Pansy frowned as I rubbed my back. I frowned back, puzzled by this unexplained pain.

“I think so? Something just hit me in the back,” I explained, glancing around for the remnants of a prank of some sort. None appeared. Pansy shrugged and returned to her potions work. I gathered my stuff, and debated where to head next.

It was the end of the day, and I had completed all of my homework. So I was blessed with some nice free time. In a last second decision I veered towards the Quidditch pitch to meet Cedric after his practice.

“Hey y/n!” A sweet voice called out as I was about to duck out of the entrance hall.

“Hello Holly!” I spun on my heel. Holly was always quite nice to me, even though most of the Gryffindors avoided me. “How are you?”

“Swell thanks,” she nodded. “Just wanted to say congrats to you and Diggory! You two are so cute together!” I blushed all the way up to my ears.

“No I-“ she was already speeding down the hall back towards the tower. I sighed and continued towards the pitch.

••••

“Y/n!” Cedric waved across the field towards me. I noticed him limping slightly, but didn’t think anything of it.

“How was practice Ced?” I asked, and he only shrugged.

“Managed to take a bludger to the back, but it wasn’t too bad.” He said as he approached me.

“Doesn’t look good if you’re limping. Want to go to Pomfrey’s?” I gestured towards the various windowsills side by side that was the infirmary, and Cedric shook his head.

“I’m fine, Hooch said it would be worn off by tomorrow. Did you get all your homework done?” He asked, and I saw his face flinch.

“That’s it. We’re going to the infirmary. Give me your arm. Besides, my back has been aching since the library. Maybe I can get it checked out.” He held his arm out curiously, and I wrapped it around my shoulder so I could help him put less pressure on his leg.

“Thanks, Y/n.” He said sheepishly, and I smiled at him.

“I got all my homework done, by the way. Pansy even helped me with the last part of the potions essay that we struggled to do, so I’ll explain it tonight or tomorrow.” I said, and Cedric nodded.

“Sounds good, let’s go.”

—

“For some reason you’ve both bruised the exact same area in your lower back. Do you two have anything you’d like to share with me?” Pomfrey stared at us, and Cedric laughed.

“It's a complete coincidence!” He said, and I nodded, but I was mentally frowning.

There’s no such thing as coincidences.

—

“One day you’re going to spill the boiling water all over yourself.” I said as I watched Cedric in a feeble attempt to pour the water from 15 inches above into his teacup.

“I’m not the quidditch captain for nothing-ow!” Cedric yelped at the same time I hissed, and I quickly inspected my wrist.

“Some of it just landed on me!” I glared at him, and he stared blankly back.

“It landed on me, Y/n. You’re across the table it couldn’t have splashed you.” Cedric said slowly, and I realised my wrist was bone-dry.

“I swear to Godric I felt it hit me.” I said earnestly, and Cedric nodded.

“I don’t doubt it. Shall we go back to Pomfrey?” Cedric asked, and I shook my head.

“It’s probably nothing. Lighten up, Ced, we’re fine. We’ve got the lovely class of charms next, followed by Sprout’s endless herbology lectures.” I nudged Cedric with my elbow, but he still seemed upset.

“Hey, what’s up?” I leaned closer and murmured, and he leant his head on mine.

“What if it’s not nothing? What if we’ve been cursed somehow?” I wished I could erase the worry from his face.

“I highly doubt that. Hogwarts is one of the safest places ever, and if someone was going around cursing people we would definitely know about it.” I tried my best to reassure him, and he sighed.

“Okay, dipshit. I guess I trust you.”

—

“Odds on you asking Sprout what the word sex means?” I asked, and Cedric laughed.

“Ten.” I looked at him in surprise.

“You sure? That’s pretty low.” He nodded.

“Why wouldn’t I be sure?” He asked, and I snickered.

“No reason. Three, two, one!”

“Eight!” We both shouted, and I screeched with laughter. Ced was done for.

“No! Rematch!” He said desperately, and I tried to control my laughter.

“Nope! Go ask!” I put my hand over my mouth in an attempt to control my laughter again, and Cedric reluctantly raised his hand.

“Professor? I have a question.” Cedric called out, and Sprout turned around to face us.

“Yes dear?” She smiled at him, and I nudged Cedric’s leg.

“What’s sex?” The entirety of the Hufflepuff-Slytherin class erupted into screams, and Sprout gasped.

“Mr Diggory!” She exclaimed, and I genuinely thought I was going to piss myself.

“Well, as my head of house, I thought you would be the best teacher to ask.” He said, and I noticed his cheeks were bright red. He shot a glare at me before smiling innocently at Sprout.

“If you stay after class I might be able to explain, however, we are currently in a herbology lesson!” She looked like she was about to cry, and I slapped Cedric’s arm as I laughed.

“You’re insane!” I said, and the smile he gave me made my breath get caught in my throat.

The next day I ran into Cedric just before potions. He was about to trip right over his own two feet, when I caught his hand.

"Morning, clumsy!" I smirked slightly as he brushed off the imaginary dust he had acquired during his slip.

"Morning, y/n," he mumbled, lacking his regular enthusiasm. After chatting for a minute or two he started to back away slowly.

"Hey, I just have to run to the bathroom. I'll be back in time for class though!" He yelled over his shoulder now. He started to run down the stony corridor, however I realised after a moment that he was heading the wrong way.

"Wait! Ced, you're heading towards the common rooms!" I tried to yell after him, but figured he'd learn it in a moment anyway. It's not like he hadn't learned this before either. He came to the Slytherin common room almost as much as I went to the Hufflepuff one.

I followed his footsteps, figuring I would be able to talk to him on his way back. What I didn't expect was to see a single slip of parchment fluttering to the floor, and Cedric nowhere in sight.

I bent down quickly to pick it up, crinkling the hard corners with my anxious movements.

I’m like a boat on the water, you’re the raise on the waves that calm my mind.

It was in the same, scrawling writing as the other notes I had received, and the paper was exactly the same to all of the other's I had received.

Was it Cedric? I flipped the paper over and looked at the blank back. He couldn't possibly love me. Could he?

I smiled at the message, remembering when we met up over break once. We had taken his father’s boat sailing, and had somehow managed to capsize on three different occasions. I heard footsteps coming down the corridor, and I shoved the message in my pocket.

"Hey!" Cedric called out as he came near.

“Hi, Ced. Or should I say boat on the water?” I twirled the piece of paper around my fingers as he approached, and I watched as his face fell.

“That’s not mine.” He said quickly, and I raised my eyebrows.

“Hmm. If that’s true, then I better go search for my secret admirer.” I grinned as he took the bait and grabbed my hand, tugging me closer to him.

“How long have you known?” Ced asked, and I shrugged.

“I had my suspicions on Finch-Fletchley, but you proved me wrong with this note,” I laughed at Cedric’s reaction. “I’m joking of course, Ceddie. I had no idea who it was, but I’m glad it’s you.”

“Wait, really?” He seriously was the cutest. The way he was looking at me right now made me feel like the luckiest girl in the world; then again, I just might be.

“Of course I am. In case you hadn’t noticed, I’ve been trying to drop hints for four years.” Cedric laughed at my confession, and I elbowed him.

“Oi! I was only laughing because I’ve been dropping hints for five. I figured in our last year at school I may as well confess that I’m in love with you.” My breath caught in my throat, and he raised his hand to my face only to brush a piece of hair out of my eyes.

“You’re in love with me?” I asked, and he nodded.

“It’s practically impossible not to be. Now that you know it’s me, I was wondering if you wanted to be my valentine?” Cedric asked, and a rustling from above made us look up.

A red rose had just bloomed.

It was valentine's day. Of course, just about everywhere was packed with starry eyed couples. We had opted to stay at Hogwarts, and have a sweet picnic together. Cedric had taken care of the setting, and I had found all of the food.

It wasn't a bad effort. In my opinion he went slightly overboard with the pink, but I did appreciate the various hints of green he had added with the plates and napkins. Plus, I had brought plenty of food from the kitchens (which Cedric had shown me in my fourth year)

We settled down on the edge of the lake, and I took a moment to appreciate the sunny day, and the time I could finally spend with Cedric not just as friends, but as a couple. I laid down, and gently rested my head of Cedric's lap.

"We should have done this a lot sooner," I joked, but I meant it as well. Knowing I could have been dating Cedric for months before now was a little bittersweet. I tried to remember that at least we were here now together.

I wasn't exactly sure if I believed in soulmates, but I knew that if I had a soulmate, it would be Cedric.

"Thank goodness you found the note I was going to hide the other day," Cedric smiled.

"That's true, you're no Gryffindor," I teased. "Thank goodness!" I stuck my tongue out in mock disgust.

And that's when things took a turn. I watched as Cho came up to us, with a nasty frown on her face. Her frown darkened our picnic almost instantly.

“Fuck.” I breathed under my voice. What in Merlin’s name could she possibly want with me and Cedric? Obviously we were about to find out.

“Ceddie, honey!” She sang sweetly as she came closer to us. Cedric shot me a look and quickly set a reassuring, soft kiss on my lips before getting up.

“Cho. What are you doing here?” He asked, sounding incredibly confused. He rubbed his hand through his hair, anxious about her mission

“I came to rescue you!” She grinned innocently. As she reached for her hand I couldn’t help myself.

“Hey! Back off!” She shot me a burning glare, and sent a stinging spell at my wrist.

“Shit,” Cedric and I spoke in unison as we both grabbed our wrists. I muttered a healing spell or two as I glared towards Cho.

“Look, Cho, go away. Okay?” Cedric tried to kindly shoo her away. “I’m perfectly happy with y/n!” I smiled softly, glad to here Cedric say that.

“It’s okay Ceddie! I realised exactly why it was her in that lake and not me!” Cho chirrped. She sounded quite proud of herself, and I was curious what on earth she had come up with.

“Yeah, it’s because I love her!” Cedric explained. Cho let out a shrill laugh, and patted his arm.

“No silly!” She smiled sweetly, as if explaining to a young child. “You THINK you love her!” She shot another laser like look towards me.

“I’m pretty sure I know who I love Cho!” Cedric’s face began to harden as he realised this wasn’t going to be easy to brush off.

“She used a love potion on you!” Cho screeched, grabbing hold of Cedric.

“I said let go of him!” I got up off the blanket and walked over.

“She’s best in our potions class, she’s loved you since we were 13, and she’s a fucking Slytherin!” Cho explained desperately! She had small, glistening tears in her eyes now. I almost felt pity for her, but I couldn’t.

I walked over slowly, deciding exactly what I should say.

“Being a Slytherin doesn’t make me evil Cho, just like you being a Ravenclaw doesn’t make you smart!” I frowned. I hated how much the stereotypes of our houses defined us. “People aren’t able to be perfectly categorised between four groups!” Cho glared and jabbed her wand at me.

Before I realised what was happening, Cedric jumped between me and the flash of white light, but it couldn't stop the spell for some reason. I doubled over in excruciating pain that hit right around my belly button. It was as if my stomach had turned inside out and began to burn the surrounding flesh. I glanced over, and Cedric was in obvious pain as well.

I couldn’t contain the whimper that escaped from my mouth, and Cedric met my eyes.

“How the hell did you hit Y/n with that?” He spat out, while Cho only stared at us in shock and what looked like panic. After Cedric let out what sounded like a painful groan, Cho waved her wand and relief flooded me.

“Tell me! How did you do it?” Now that he was able to stand up without pain, Cedric got incredibly close to her, towering over her.

“I-I don’t know! You jumped in front, she must have been faking it!” I watched as Cedric lowered the manicured finger she had pointed at me, and whispered something in her ear. The effect in had on her was instantaneous; she slowly stepped away before turning tail and bolting away.

“We need to go to Pomfrey.” Cedric spoke without looking at me, though when I clasped his hand he squeezed mine tightly.

“I don’t know what to tell the pair of you. Have you been hit by an unknown spell in the past month or so?” Pomfrey looked tired, I noticed.

I wondered how often she slept.

“Not that I can think of.” Cedric said, and I nodded.

“Unless someone’s hit us without us noticing, then no.” I added, and Pomfrey sighed.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with the two of you. I’ve only heard of cases like these, never seen one myself. I think there’s only been four or five documented.” She explained, causing Ced and I to exchange glances.

“Well, what happened to those people?” I asked the obvious question, since my lovely boyfriend clearly wasn’t going to. Pomfrey shifted slightly.

“One person in each pair died before a full analysis and case study could be completed.” I almost laughed at the look on Cedric’s face until I realised that one of us was totally going to die soon.

“Well, my darling, it was lovely knowing you.” I patted him on the back, and he wrapped his arms around me, encasing me with love.

“What can we do?” Cedric asked, and Pomfrey shook her head.

“Not a whole lot. Try and remember if the pair of you have been struck by a spell in the past though.”

It took fourteen seconds after we left the infirmary to Cedric to slap his forehead.

“I think we’re stupid.” He said, and I raised an eyebrow.

“Speak for yourself. Personally, I’m the smartest person I know.” He snickered, and I frowned. Where was the joke?

“Flitwick hit us with that spell, remember? And the spell was interrupted halfway through, which created a new spell entirely.” Cedric explained, and I sighed.

“I think we’re stupid too.”

We'd spent another lovely 10 years being stupid together. Sure we'd had our ups and downs, but we always knew that we were soulmates.

Since we had found out about the spell, we've helped Flitwick research whatever charm had put us in the situation of feeling each others pain. It was actually quite strange when I was pregnant with our son, Cedric had noticed the contractions first.

After spending a couple of years with Flitwick researching the spell, we'd moved to Scotland and gotten married. Life had been quite pleasant. We owned a small farm where we raised cows and hippogriffs alike. Our son was now 6 years old, and had already decided that he wanted to be in Slytherin 'Just like mummy!'

Currently we were sitting in our favorite wizarding restaurant. I gazed over towards Cedric's kind face as he helped our son go through the maze on the children's menu. I grinned over at my two lovely boys, and nudged Cedric with my foot under the table.

"Hm?" He looked up, and our son copied him. I smiled towards them both, and silently thanked Merlin that I had these two lovely boys in my life.

"What do you want to eat?" I held up the menu, and raised my eyebrows. Cedric and our son looked at each other and then looked back towards be in sync.

"PIZZA!" They said together. I giggled and they quickly joined in.

Just as we share pain, Cedric and I share the multitude of joys that have bloomed in our lives. And that made the joy all the better.

#cedric diggory #cedric diggory x reader

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suburbanbeatnik · 3 years

Text

The short and very miserable life of Napoleon II, aka the Eaglet, aka Franz, Duke of Reichstadt: PART ONE

Napoleon’s son with Marie Louise, his second wife, the daughter of the Holy Roman Emperor Habsburg Emperor Francis II, is known by a variety of names: Napoleon II, the Eaglet, l’Aiglon, King of Rome, or Franz, Duke of Reichstadt. It seems to me this kid barely gets mentioned as a footnote in most popular biographies of Napoleon. Of course Napoleon loved kids, and was over the moon that he finally had his own legitimate child, his own son and heir. He doted on this adorable and spirited blond moppet, being super affectionate with him, playing with him, spending lots of time with him, bringing him into his study to cuddle with him as he read dispatches, or tossing him up into the air when the toddler pulled on his coat-tails.

It’s very sweet and heart-warming to read all these adorable father-son moments, but honestly it’s depressing as hell to realize the best years of the Eaglet’s life was up to the age of four.

When he parted from his father after his defeat in Russia, it was all horribly and sickeningly downhill from there.

So I was reading Octave Aubry’s biography The King of Rome: Napoleon II. It’s not a new bio by any means— it’s from 1932. But it is thoroughly researched and very well written, with lots of cites from various Viennese archives, and Jesus Christ, it is depressing. The Eaglet was physically and emotionally abused by the Habsburg side of his family and by their minions for most of his very short life, and it makes for a harrowing read.

What did his mother do to stop it, you may ask? Unfortunately, the answer is absolutely nothing.

TW: CHILD ABUSE

So, the best that could be said about his mother, Marie Louise, was that she was a weak character. If I wanted to be more blunt, I’d say she was spineless enough to the point I wonder if she was even a vertebrate.

She was, of course, raised to hate Napoleon as a child. But then she met him and fell in love with him. She was very eager to be loved and do everything he asked her to do, even if (as Andrew Roberts points out in his own mammoth biography of Napoleon) she wasn’t the brightest bulb. But perhaps she was a perfectly cromulent empress when war wasn’t on her doorstep and she wasn’t asked to make decisions: but once the war WAS on her doorstep and decision-making was called of her, she fell apart like wet tissue. As Aubry explains:

That it would be a capital mistake for Marie Louise and her son to leave Paris was painfully evident to everyone, even to the Empress herself. But no initiative could have been expected of her. Willing, always of the best intentions, she was a passive creature both by temperament and education. She could never be more than an instrument in the hands of others. But Hortense, who had a resolute spirit behind that bleat of hers, showed both intelligence and heart in the circumstances. She was waiting for Marie Louise when the council was over, and said to her:

‘Sister dear, you must realize that in leaving Paris you will be neutralizing the defense and so lose your crown. I observe that you are making the sacrifice with great resignation.’

The Empress replied gently, almost humbly:

‘You are right. It is not my fault— the Council has decided that way.’

She was hoping vaguely for a letter from the Emperor, a counter-order that would permit her to remain. [Aubry pg 54]

At this point Louise, after fleeing Paris, wanted to be reunited with Napoleon, but she just cried and wrung her hands, as her lady-in-waiting Mme Lannes, in cahoots with Talleyrand, poured poison into her ear about how Napoleon never loved her. Then Talleyrand conspired to have all of Louise’s stuff stolen. The soon-to-be-ex-empress continued to cry and do nothing, only to go “to her room to collapse on her knees at her bedside.”

Anyway, her father swooped in and picked her up, and Metternich arranged to have Neipperg, a dashing, managing middle-aged man in uniform (Louise definitely had a type), seduce her. Within the space of weeks, she immediately changed her tune with regards to her husband, and wanted to have nothing more to do with him. As for the Eaglet, though he ended up in Vienna, he was in the care of his beloved governess, Mme de Montesquiou, aka “Maman ‘Quiou.” He was in good hands while Maman ‘Quiou was allowed to stay with him, but she was deathly afraid of being sent away, since she knew Louise was indifferent to her child and would never do the right thing, now that she was the puppet of her father and of Metternich.

With her son whom she had not seen for three months and who was enraptured at her return, she [Marie Louise] concerned herself less and less. In spite of the caresses and the gifts that were showered upon her, Mme. de Montesquiou saw things clearly and passed her judgment. Writing to her husband who was urging her to leave Vienna she said:

“My dear, do not call it my duty to return to France. As I have already advised you, you would be putting me in the greatest embarrassment, and my conscience would trouble me all my life long… If that child has a mother, very well, I could place him in her hands and be satisfied. But she is nothing less than that: she is more indifferent to his fate than the veriest stranger in his service.”

And to an intimate she confided in disgust at what she suspected and intuited:

“I have seen painful things, and I keep seeing them every day.” [Aubry pg 81]

Unfortunately, in 1815, Maman ‘Quiou was sent away. The Eaglet wept for two days straight, and was put into the care of a certain Countess Mitrovsky, “a creature of the Empress Maria-Ludovica and an intimate of Neipperg.” The loyal Meneval, who was also to be sent away, said good-bye to the little boy, and the change in the child’s demeanor was striking.

He was struck by the child’s earnest and melancholy air. He did not run to meet Meneval with his usual lively gestures and gay exclamations. He watched him, as he entered, with the utmost indifference. Countess Mitrovsky was with him. Every few seconds he would look at her as though in fear of a reprimand. After a few conventional phrases, Meneval took his hand and asked him if he had anything to say to his papa, for he was going soon to see him. The child looked at him sadly and went away, still silent, towards the embrasure of a distant window. Meneval bade good-bye to the Countess and Mme. Soufflot [one of the few remaining French waiting women], then, as he was leaving, stepped over to the little boy who stood watching him from the window. He bent low to bid him good-bye. And at that moment, he felt a tug at his coat and heard a trembling little voice say:

“Monsieur Meva, you will tell him that I still love him dearly.”

He was only four years old and for fourteen months he had not seen his father…

When he reached the antechamber, Meneval burst into tears. [Aubry, pgs 89-90]

Not long after this, the young King was delivered into the care of a tutor named Count Dietrichstein. The Eaglet, who was “dragged” by Countess Mitrovsky to meet Dietrichstein, refused to have anything to do with him, and Dietrichstein, while weeping, dramatically claimed to a friend “he cannot love me” as long as the last French women, even the aged nurse, were in Franz’s service. So Mme Soufflot, her daughter Fanny, and the others were banished, leaving Franz completely alone.

No more warmth about him, no more deep interest, no more deep interest, no soft hands to stroke his curls, no arms to clasp him too tight when he returned weary from a drive, no knees to spread him to let him rest, no more smiling reproofs for his shortcomings, no more love in short— real love, that is disinterested, unselfish love, love for himself and love for what he was. His mother was soon to leave him, to ascend to her throne in Parma. HIs grandfather Franz treated him kindly; but he had always sacrificed him for the interests of State and would sacrifice him again, if the Chancellor [Metternich] so ordered. As for his uncles, aunts, and cousins of Austria, however well they might treat him, however generous they might be, as certain of them were, they could not— and this was natural— help seeing in him, first of all, the son of Napoleon.

He was born with an affectionate disposition. He had loved his father infinitely. With his mother he had been tender and gentle. He had adored Mme de Montesquiou and Fanny Soufflot. Now he was compelled to close his heart. Brought up by men, raised only by men, but still too much of a child to become a man, he turned inward, escaped into the little universe he had made for himself with his memories of former days. For as young as he was, he had no hope, and he did not know there was a future. He was going to grow up that way, not unhappy if one only looks at the material content of life, but if one thinks of the needs of the heart, certainly not happy. [Aubry pgs 97-98]

Count Dietrichstein decided that he was going to stamp all the Frenchness out of the Eaglet’s mind, for he must become 100% a Habsburg. Nothing but German would be spoken to him, and when he clung to speaking French, crying that he didn’t want to be a German, that he wished to be a Frenchman, he was chastised, deprived of play and outings, and then, with the Emperor Franz’s approval, actually whipped. Yes— he was whipped. When he was only five years old, because he wouldn’t speak German.

But when even that wouldn’t work, Marie Louise sat him on her knee and told him solemnly that he must speak German to please his grandfather, which finally did the trick. Not long after this, she went to the little court in Parma. She requested for her son to go with her, but when Metternich refused, she acquiesced meekly.

Once so light-hearted and gay, the child became timid and mistrustful, and after the departure of his friends, the French women, and would lie to protect himself. In such cases he would be punished, not harshly, but not gently either. He shrank more and more into himself, accordingly, and since the world had grown hostile, he now began to offer it only a surface of indifference. [Aubry, pg 100]

He began to act out, destroying his copy books and mutilating his toys, but would also become sensitive to injustice or cruelty, like a dog being whipped or a bird eating a worm. He was told he would no longer be called Napoleon: he was to be called Franz. When he objected, he was “promptly silenced.” He became used to the name, and from here on out he was usually called Franz.

Franz still fought with Dietrichstein, who commented on his “laziness” and “ill will,” and his many quarrels with the prince, although he was happy to note in his letters to Marie Louise that it ended with “my victories.” Metternich had the boy closely followed, reports sent regularly and classified into a “ponderous file.” Meanwhile, his mother, off in Parma, when she wasn’t writing letters to her son exhorting him to pious obedience, made the feeblest attempt to defend the interests of the newly christened Franz— Franz was cut off from the succession of Parma after Metternich decided that this was in the best interests of the monarchy in Italy, Marie Louise was “readily brought into line by Neipperg, who owned her now body and soul.”

…She expressed herself as satisfied in a private letter of October, 1817:

“My son’s future has been determined. You know that I was never ambitious for thrones or States for him, but hoped he would be the richest and most charming gentleman in Austria.” [Aubry pg 110]

Meanwhile, Napoleon was kept on the island of St Helena, waiting for news from his son, but he heard not a word from his wife or a line from his son for six years. When he died, he was looking at Franz’s portrait, and left him many legacies, such as his books, engravings, papers, coffee service and the family house in Ajaccio, but Franz saw none of it. His mother, who was pregnant at the time with Neipperg’s son, didn’t even tell her son of his father’s death. She refused to accept Napoleon’s heart, which his will bequeathed her, because, as Aubry says, “she was more interested in the inheritance: she filed objection to the transfer of the six millions on deposit with Laffitte out of which the bequests of the Emperor were to be paid. She would not permit Marchand [Napoleon’s valet] to deliver to her at Parma Napoleon’s laces and the bracelet made of his hair.” Napoleon even begged her to take his last physician, Dr Antommarchi, into her service: she refused to even meet with him, palming the doctor off on Neipperg, who glad-handed Antommachi and pushed him out the door when he started asking too many questions about Franz.

Louise did moan about Napoleon’s suffering on St Helena while she was giving birth to Neipperg’s child, but she promptly forgot it. “She was a weak and frivolous soul. She would have grieved longer over her pet parrot, Marguerite. She even expressed astonishment that Madame Mere should have asked the British government for Napoleon’s body.” [Aubry pg 120]

One of the junior tutors named Foresti was given the task to tell the ten year old Franz that his father was dead.

The child began to weep and he wept a long time, doubtless calling up in his memory the pale face which had softened to such tenderness whenever it drew near his own. He sat down near the window, his cheeks, and his hands that covered them, wet with tears. Foresti himself was deeply moved and tried to comfort him. But the child did not hear him. [Aubry pg 122]

As Prokesch, his best friend of his short adult life, put it later:

“The prince wept for a whole day, almost without stopping. Then, suddenly, he mastered his emotions, dried his eyes, rose and paced the floor up and down. Not a word came from his lips. And several weeks passed before he alluded to his father’s death. He felt he must keep his grief to himself.”

Meanwhile, Franz was now thinking in German, but he still rebelled against his teachers, who, for years, beat him with the ferule (a type of paddle that resembled a long and large wooden spoon, the circular head often pierced with holes, and sometimes as large as a child’s head)— his grandfather the Emperor authorized “great severity” against him when he was being “stubborn”— but this stopped when it was clear beatings no longer had any affect. Except for brief months of pleasure during summer vacations at the castle of Persenbeug where Marie Louise deigned to leave Parma, Franz, who was completely without friends, was kept in solitude. He responded by withdrawing into himself and going into a fantasy world.

He dreamed, and gained freedom by dreaming. As a small boy he loved to play: now that he was growing up, it was still what he liked to do best. Never did child love to dream more than he: that escape from time, from responsibilities, from disappointments, that journey without end, where ideas, colors and forms mingled according to one’s fantasy! As soon as he could flee the watchful care of Foresti or of Collin, instead of working at his translations, his themes, or his arithmetic exercises, he would open the huge gilt-edged volumes given to him on his birthdays by his grandfather or the Archdukes and leaning his head on his hand, began to dream with his eyes upon the awkward, rather ridiculous illustrations of those days, in which one could see beplumed generals prancing besides their armies with spent cannonballs lying at their horses’ feet, while down in one corner an aide-de-camp would be reading an order and in the other an almoner kneeling besides a stretcher to confess a dying soldier.

Sometimes, bending low over an atlas, he would travel in spirit far out over the blue seas to the continents bordered in loud colors. One day, Matthias Collin came into the room and found him, with his cheek resting on a map. The little prince did not get up at his approach. His teacher thought he was asleep. But on going towards him, he saw the child’s eyes were wide open. The boy gave a start of surprise and blushed. He had been dreaming. Collin was more indulgent than Foresti. He did not punish him. [Aubry pg 132]

* * *

More to come in part two!

#napoleon II #franz duke of reichstadt #l'aiglon #eaglet #reichstadt #marie louise #napoleon #napoleon bonaparte #octave aubry #king of rome #depressing shit #I'm sorry guys

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kanri-tea · 3 years

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De-aged Jakurai

Jakurai gets de-aged via illegal mic.

You were born and raised in the darkness of the underworld. Death nipped at your heels even from an early age and you learned quickly to never be surprised.

Unfortunately, there are some things you cannot predict, and this is one of them. In front of you are two men, a blonde, sparkly looking man, and a red-haired, tired man.

“Sensei?!”

“Aaaaghh! How could this even happen?!”

You tilt your head. They aren’t familiar and they certainly don’t look like your handlers, but looks can be deceiving, so you stay silent, unsure.

“Is- is that a knife?!”

They’ve caught sight of your blades and they start screeching and yelling even more. It makes your head hurt. You want to leave, but you don’t know if they’re your handlers, but also, you thought you were on a break.

Turning heel, you walk away from them. They’re probably not your problem, and frankly, while you don’t know how you got there, you should most definitely be returning to base.

“Oh my god,” Hifumi hears Doppo mutter again. Which is kind of mean, it’s not like they purposely lost Sensei. They had looked away for, like, a second and poof! He was gone! How rude!

“Oh my god.”

“Doppo~! C’mon, enough sulking! We have to find Sensei before something bad happens!”

“Hi-fu-mi. We lost Sensei. We lost a child version of Sensei!”

Hifumi shrugged. Well, yes, they did, but no use crying over spilled milk, right?

“I doubt Sensei has gone too far, he’s tiny right now,” he chirps, glancing around the horizon for any hints of where Sensei could have gone.

“Aaaaggh. Why did we have to run into one of your stupid self-proclaimed rivals! Of course, they had to have an illegal mic!”

Okay, now Doppo was really being unfair, Hifumi thought, pouting, it wasn’t like he was actively making enemies. It wasn’t his fault his kittens loved him so much more than those brutes.

“C’mon, Doppochi, let’s go find Sensei! I think I saw him go this way!”

Hifumi started dragging Doppo along the path, ignoring the spluttering and heavy feeling in his stomach. The child version of Sensei was like 10, plus it’s Sensei. He wouldn’t stir up toomuch trouble… right?

“Uhhh…”

This was not what Ichiro had expected to see today. What was supposed to happen was him going to work and then going home to take care of his cute little brothers, a very typical and normal day.

Ichiro most definitely did not expect to see what seemed to be the child of his former teammate.

“Hey,” Ichiro started, rubbing the back of head. This was super awkward.

The kid stared back at him with wide, flat blue eyes.

“Uh, are your parents around?”

“I do not understand.”

Okay, this was new.

“Y’know,” Ichiro said, kneeling down, “Your dad or your mom. Shouldn’t you be with them? Not… not here in a dingy alleyway.”

The kid blinks, “I do not know where my progenitors are. I do not have memories of them.”

Okay, now the kid was just being difficult. What the heck did that even mean?

“Okay… What’s your name, kiddo? I’m Ichiro.”

“I am called Jakurai,” the kid replies and while its not exactly an uncommon name, what are the chances of a little kid that looks almost exactly like Sensei and having the same name?

Right on cue, his phone buzzes. It buzzes multiple times, actually, but more importantly, keeping his grip on the may-or-may-not-be-a-de-aged-Jinguji-Jakurai, there’s a message from Izanami.

Opening the message, Ichiro fights back a groan. Of course Matenro had to run into an illegal microphone, and of course Sensei had to be de-aged.

“Well, Se- I mean, Jakurai, I guess we’re stuck with each other for now,” Ichiro felt a migraine building.

The child version of Sensei stares back at him. Well, at least he’s not screaming or anything, plus he’s kind of a cute kid, Ichiro thinks, and begins leading the kid back to Yorozuya Yamada.

You don’t know why you let this boy drag you around. He’s so painfully civilian, it almost physically hurts you. Almost.

He takes you to his home and treats you like a child. You don’t understand. You are not a child; you are a weapon.

He even gives you a popsicle. You don’t really know how to react to this, so you take it. It’s sweet.

Ichiro seems to be calling people. An informant, you think, and the familiar label lets you relax a little bit.

You glance around the house. It looks more like an office than a house, but you since there are two floors, you assume the residents live on the second floor. Either way, even the office looks lived in. There are pictures of two other children with similar facial features to Ichiro, whom you assume are his siblings, and there are random items strewn about.

It feels warm. Like love, you think, but you don’t know what love is.

You glance back at Ichiro. He’s not facing you, and your blades feel heavy. You think about how easy it would be to kill him, how vulnerable he is. You don’t want to though, but if your handler tells you to, you know you must.

You know you wouldn’t want to kill Ichiro though.

You know you don’t want to kill at all.

It takes them nearly two hours to finally reach the Yamada residence in Ikebukuro.

Two hours way too long, Doppo hysterically thinks. Hifumi, as much as Doppo loved him, was a disaster and a half, from being distracted by the smallest of things and then being too terrified to move because of a couple of women, the trip had been a long one.

Greeting them at the door is the second member of the Buster Bros, Jiro, and the flat look that he gives them really does not help his nerves.

Did something happen?

“C’mon, your creepy kid leader is in the office,” Doppo hears Jiro mutter, and he pushes down on the instinctive feeling to apologize. This isn’t the time to fall victim to your shitty self-esteem, he thinks to himself.

“So,” Ichiro tells them, “It’s only supposed to last, like, a day or something. He’ll return back to normal on his own.”

It’s relieving to hear that, Doppo thinks, and beside him, he can tell that Hifumi thinks the same even without having to glance over.

In another room, along with Yamada Saburo, sensei is listening to the other boy ramble with blank eyes. There’s no movement or twitching coming from the child, nothing like how his brother was like when they were younger and had to sit still for any period of time.

Doppo would’ve attributed it as sensei’s nature, but there’s something unnatural about the stillness, something off about the younger Jinguji Jakurai’s perfect posture.

He can’t put his finger on it, but it unnerves him and from the looks of it, everyone else, even the youngest Yamada, has picked up on that. They don’t question it though.

It doesn’t take long afterwards to collect sensei and to return to their apartment. The child doesn’t question it, just follows them blankly and quietly.

It really is unnerving.

The siblings interact with you, but you quickly realize that you scare them. That you unnerve them.

Maybe it’s because they’ve realized that you aren’t human, something whispers in his mind, but he brushes it off. They are civilian and pose no danger to him.

The sparkly man and the tired man show up again. You’re not sure why.

Where they your handlers?

The youngest child, Saburo, tries to distract you while Ichiro talks to the sparkly man and the tired man. It doesn’t work, and you eavesdrop on their discussion.

De-aging. You don’t know what that means, and it makes you feel uneasy. A test, maybe? To prove his worth to his possible handlers?

You don’t know, and the uneasiness grows as you follow them to their safehouse. It warm and cozy and well-lived in, unlike most safehouses you’ve stayed at. It feels very off-protocol, but what do you know, you are a weapon.

They feed you and it isn’t poisoned for once.

They lead you to a room and they tell you to sleep.

You don’t understand.

Maybe, you think, things will make sense when you wake up. When you wake, there will be assignments to do, targets to kill. You are a weapon after all, not a child, not a human.

You fall asleep warm and comfortable for the first time that you could ever remember.

“Sensei!”

“Good morning.”

There is sunlight shining on his face in a way that doesn’t in his own home, and instinctively, Jakurai wakes up tense. It only takes a couple more seconds, however, to realize that not only is he not in his own apartment, but that he was also in Doppo and Hifumi’s apartment.

Why?

The last thing he could remember was a rap battle, and an… illegal… microphone.

Oh. Something had hit him, but Jakurai couldn’t figure out what.

It doesn’t take long before Hifumi starts spilling about the previous day, Doppo interjecting at times, about his child self, about the illegal microphone, and about the Yamadas.

You thank them for looking out for you and make a mental note to thank Ichiro as well. You dodge the questioning stares that appear when they start talking about your child self’s demeanor.

By the time you leave, unpleasant memories are drudged up and regret spills into your thoughts.

You aren’t a weapon anymore.

You don’t have to kill anymore.

You won’t kill anymore.

Your purpose now is to serve humanity, to save people. To be a better person.

What once was will never be again, not if Jakurai had any say or control over it. Jinguji Jakurai is the saintly doctor of Shinjuku. It will be the one thing no one can ever take from him, not Amemura, not the Chuuoku, not Hitoya.

But you know you will never be any less deadly.

You have sworn to never dirty your hands with lives again.

#hypnosis mic #jinguji jakurai #buster bros #matenrou #de-aged jakurai #child jakurai

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scottfuckingreed · 4 years

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So wrong, It’s right - Montgomery De La Cruz

NOT REQUESTED

Warnings!: smutty and cute (exactly how I imagine Monty actually)

Can you admire something you’re a little afraid of? Is that possible or does that just contradict the entire point? Being the twin sister of Scott Reed means you’re in the jock group a lot. I’m around people like Bryce Walker and Montgomery De La Cruz all the time. I’m afraid of the power boys - men - like that have. And yet, I’m totally struck by them. Doodling around my notepad, I fade back into the classroom scene. Mrs Bradley goes on about how we need to be there for each other, and how to tell if our ‘friends’ are actually not okay even if they say they are. It’s pointless really, because it’s clear no one cares. It’s unfortunate. “Are you taking notes?” A whisper falls into my ear. I turn around to see an ‘innocent’ smile form on Monty’s face. “Why would I be taking notes?” I whisper back with a slight laugh. I’m not sure if some of these boys think playing dumb is cute, or they’re actually just stupid; probably both. “You just look like you’re taking notes,” he shrugs defensively and turns back to his area. I continue squiggling on my page until I feel a breath on my neck. My hairs stand instantly in an unknown way, sending shivers down my spine and a strange feeling in my stomach. “So what are you doing?” He whispers again. Rolling my eyes, I turn to him once again. “I’m decorating my page.” “You’re decorating your- what? Thats fucking stupid.” Sometimes I don’t get Monty’s responses. I know Monty is like that all the time. Rude? But why? The other’s are like it too. I just don’t know who’s genuinely a prick most of the time.

I wander over to Zach, who’s sat with Alex and he’s sat with Clay and those people. I don’t actually have a massive problem with Clay. I think he’s sweet. “Hey!” I smile when I get there. The response from Clay is a slight frown. Jess’ is a VERY small smile. Barely noticeable. “What do you want?” Clay mutters just loud enough for me to hear. “Clay-“ Jess laughs awkwardly. All I can do is smile. I get it. “Okay, I deserve that I guess.” I may have been involved in some ‘teasing’ back in the day when it comes to Clay. But that’s in the past. “I was just seeing if you were coming, Zach?” I shuffle my books that lay in my arms. “Nah I don’t think so, but you can join us if you want,” I love Zach. He’s a bit of an idiot a lot of the time, but his heart’s in the right place. Clay snaps his head very quickly at those words. “I don’t think I’m wanted here, but thanks anyway. I’ll see you guys around.” Walking away, I see Monty waiting for me. “Zachy staying with the pussies?” I roll my eyes and hit him on the arm. “Shut up, that’s not cute.” He chuckles and we walk to lunch.

We meet up with Scott, Charlie, Bryce and Marcus. “Where’s Zach?” Is the first thing Bryce, or anyone, says as we approach. “He’s with Clay and the other dipshits,” Monty laughs and sounds all cool and stuff. All I can do is roll my eyes. What do guys like Monty get from being nasty a lot of the time? “I think Y/N’s been flirting with me,” he adds, throwing his arm around my shoulder and pulling me in close. I imagine he thinks I like being this close to him. I grab his finger and drop his arm away. “Your ego is fucking massive,” I grunt with a smile. I take my water bottle out of my bag. “Almost as big as my dick,” I almost spit my water back out. Bad timing to take a drink. I get a poke on my shoulder, and that’s what does it for Scott. “Please don’t flirt with my sister in front of me!” He pushes Monty playfully on the shoulders. When I see Monty’s eyebrows raise, I know there’s something going on in his head. And his brain like never works. “Oh okay, I’ll just flirt with her when you’re not around then!” And a play fight erupts between all of them. “Alright kids!” Bryce pushes his foot against Monty, which makes both boys tumble to the ground. I swear the boys at the school are children.

Most of the guy’s had last period free - so they’d already gone home - leaving me to get home on my own. I finally leave the hell hole and bump into Monty. “Montgomery!” I smile, nudging my elbow into him. “Y/N, what do you want?” He chuckles. It sounds awkward or nervous, but that’s not Monty. Like, at all. “I was thinking... you could give me a lift home?” I smile innocently. He begins to walk, which his steps are bigger than mine, so I slightly jog to catch up. “Why would I do that?” His eyes scan me up and down. “Because you love me?” I stick my bottom lip out. The smile on his face only grows. He pretty much shakes his head until we reach his beautiful Jeep. I’m actually in love with his car. He doesnt reply. Instead he just stared at me with that grin. “Because I’m really fun to be around?” I ask again. Same response; he shakes his head. “Because I’m annoying and it’ll shut me up?” He raises his eyebrows. “Okay,” he says simply. All I can do is smile when I get into his car. “You’re so chirpy,” he laughs and starts the engine. “I know you love me,” once again, he shakes his head. “You wish.”

“Do you like what you see?” He smirks at me. I roll my eyes in a rush. “I’m not even looking at you,” I smile and turn my head out the window. I’ve actually watched every tap his fingers did against the steering wheel. I’d seen him nod along to whatever shit was on the radio. Not staring, but in the corner of my eye. Which I think is possibly worse. “I know you are, but it’s okay,” my eyes look back towards him. “I’m gonna have to tell Scotty that his little sister’s checking his best friend out,” I shake my head with a laugh. “We’re literally twins,” is all I can argue.

Monty turns in to the driveway to my house. “Thanks for that, Cruz-y,” he smiles very slightly at my words. Like, VERY slightly. “I guess it’s okay, but you definitely owe me,” I smile back at him and nod. “Of course, you can’t do anything to just ‘be nice’ can you?” I joke, chuckling as I open the door and hop out of his car. “Wait, Y/N,” he shouts out the open window. I watch as the boy gets out his car with something in his hand. “You almost left your phone,” he drops it in my hand. I tap it on his shoulder, and I automatically feel guilty for some reason. I haven’t done anything wrong, or anything I wouldn’t usually do. But I feel guilty. “Did you just, do something nice? For me?!” I drop my jaw with a gleaming smile. “I’m just a nice person,” he shrugs. “Well, I appreciate it,” I feel like I stand waiting for something that’s never gonna happen. I gazed towards the boy for what seems like ages. There was nothing to wait for. It was just awkward blank air. To break the silence, I turn and walk into my house. I’m not sure what else I was meant to do. I run up the stairs, excited to be home, and get out of my ‘nice’ clothes. Sweats and a bralette. It’s time to relax.

I set myself up. Pencils, my sketch pad, and myself laid on my stomach on my bed. Music on. Sometimes I draw from a picture, sometimes from my head, but most of the time it’s just doodles. Today it’s from my head. Just head with eyes and a face and everything. And time flies when you’re invested in something. “Wow,” is all I hear. I jump too much, shooting my head upwards and seeing Montgomery looking over at my book. “Holy shit!” My hand immediately goes over my pounding chest. That was not okay! “You could’ve knocked!” I shout, sitting myself up. “I did, you were just concentrating,” he shrugs and starts looking around my room. He picks up an ornament. I stand up, walking over to him and taking it off of him. It’s only when I get up that I remember what I’m wearing. I feel exposed. His eyes look my body up and down. And suddenly he’s in a rush. “Anyway, I just came to scare you,” and he leaves. Strange.

- A few days later -

A tight black dress. It fits like a glove around my hips, hugging my thighs nicely. This is an outfit that makes me feel like a bad bitch. “I know you’ve worn that dress just to piss me off,” Scott shakes his head as we drive to Bryce’s. Another stupid house party. Although I hate them, I find myself going to every one; enjoying myself too. “I don’t do it to piss you off Scott,” I laugh. He raises his eyebrows immediately. “I know exactly who you dress like that for,” which makes me heat up. Luckily my foundation hides the redness in my cheeks. I don’t even glance his way. I can’t. “Why is everything always about Monty?” It stresses me out that everything is about that boy. “Can’t I just dress up for myself?” I add, rather snappily. Here we are. Bryce pretty much has a car park in front of his fucking house. He might as well have ‘I’m a rich prick’ tattooed on his forehead. “You can, Y/N,” and he gets out the car. You can hear everything from inside the car, let alone walking towards the party itself. Pretty sure I felt the vibrations from the street over. “But did I mention Monty?” Our eyes lock. I swear he said his name? Shit.

Shit music, a load of half naked girls, and too many Varsity jackets? We must be at a Bryce Walker party. I don’t know half of these people here. But I do know Zach! I can’t rush over to him at the drinks table fast enough. “Hey!” I smile. “Y/N, dragged along again?” He asked, handing me a cup. The burning stench of whatever-the-fuck shoots through my nose with just one small sniff. “Jesus Christ, what’s in this?” An adorable smile spreads across his face. He’s so pure I swear. “It’s actually a shorter list if you ask what’s not in it,” he shrugs. I raise my eyebrows, wondering if the boy is smart enough to flirt with me. I leave it at silence, bringing the cup up to my lips. “Everything,” I look back his way. He leans himself down and gets close to my ear. The warmth of his breath does nothing to my body. “I put everything in it. Enjoy!” Is what he finishes with before walking away dancing.

I find myself dancing with everybody and nobody. The fun thing about a party is you don’t need to know anybody. Especially if there’s a lot of people, and you’re drunk. And since there’s everything in my cup, it’s safe to say that I’m a little gone after half of it. “Ah!” I shout and point, seeing a familiar boy across the room. “Where have you been?!” I shout ask. I think I ran over to him. Whatever I did, it happened very quickly. “Around,” he shrugs. And I giggle. What was funny, you ask? Absolutely nothing. But I’m tipsy and a little horny. “Are you drunk?” He laughs, taking my cup and sniffing it. His eyebrows raise, before he even takes a sip, let alone after. “It’s a Zachy special-” “Where’s your brother?” I hardly finish my sentence before he starts shouting his words over the loud music. “I don’t know,” my slightly drunken state is offended by his question. Maybe I’m just annoyed at myself, maybe it’s the fact that everything is about my brother, but it’s more than likely the fact that I wanna be flirted with. And he’s definitely not flirting with me. Rolling my eyes, I just turn and walk as far away as I can before stumbling and embarrassing myself completely. Completely into the arms of Montgomery De La Cruz. “Careful,” the slight giggle shocks me. It was..? Cute..? “Maybe you should sit down for a while,” I realise that I’m still in his arms, which is definitely the last place I should be, so I stand up ‘straight’. As straight and as still as I can be anyway. “It’s okay, I wanna dance!” Smiling massively towards him, I’m shocked when he actually reciprocates the happy look. He never smiles back at me. It must be pity. “You can dance sat down, I’ll come with you.”

I didn’t think I’d be spending a part of my night looking at the stars with Monty, but here we are. Well I’m sat on a sun bed, and he’s stood. The fresh air does a mix of sending the alcohol to my head, and sobering me up a little. Which makes no sense; I know. I’m just drunk. “Fuck, did I drop my drink?” Confusion hits me like a brick. So much so that I start patting my hips at the pockets I don’t have. Which also makes no fucking sense. “I took it off you- why would the cup be in your pocket?” He laughs, taking a seat on the concrete next to my lounger. “That’s cute,” as soon as the words fall out, my hand covers my mouth. “Shit, I won’t hear the end of that. Will I?” His lips press together, shaking his head slowly. “At least you’be admitted you find me cute,” I don’t even have the effort to argue. So I lay myself down.

Before I open my eyes, my head starts pounding. Unfortunately I remember quite a bit, if not all of last night. It’s effort to wake up. So I lay on my back. In a 3, 2, 1, I open my eyes to a ceiling. I might still be drunk, or my eyes aren’t working properly, but that ceiling doesn’t look like mine. “You’re awake!” A voice startles me. There stand Montgomery De La Cruz with water and a pill of some kind. “Fuck, this doesn’t look-” “I slept on the sofa,” and my heart, unfortunately, skips a beat. I lay a glance over to the chair. It’s small. “It’s comfier than it looks,” he shrugs, edging the items towards me. I don’t even know what to say. It’s... sweet? “This could literally be anything,” I squint my eyes at the drug with as much enthusiasm as I can in this state. “Don’t you trust me?” I press my lips together and screw my face up. “I do, unfortunately,” I shrug, and take the painkiller. “Good, lets get some food,” he nods his head towards the door. In my state? No. But I couldn’t turn down his offer.

“I’m curious Monty,” we walk where we can see the beach. Not on the sand, but the path very close. I’m not sure if he’s following me, or I’m following him. “Go on,” he smile, putting a chip in his mouth. Seaside chips are the best. To be honest, everything tastes better at the beach. “How did I end up in your bed?” I smile at my question. My cheeks blush slightly at the question. I must be broken. “Well you just passed out really, so I thought it was the right thing to do,” he shrugs in a very cute way? “Where’d Scott go?” As flattered as I am, Scott should’ve been there. I’m his twin sister. “He got with some slut-” I raise my eyebrows. “Sorry, he got with a blonde girl in a red skirt.” He shivers. A chuckle exits my mouth. “What’s that about?” A smile goes across his face, looking down. I’ve noticed every move he’s made since this ‘morning’. “Red’s such a slutty colour,” he says slowly. Is he weary of my reaction? “Tell me about it!” Only a moment of silence goes by. “Well, thank you,” His eyes lock with mine. “I respect that you didn’t try it on with me, because I definitely would’ve just let it happen,” without debate. Without thinking, he speaks. “I wouldn’t want it to happen like that,” my heart skips a beat. I see the instant regret in his face, but I can’t help but feel warmed by those words. Even so, he doesn’t correct himself.

I spend the rest of my day pacing my bedroom floor. Seeing as I woke up like midday, it’s not actually too long. It felt like it. An hour felt like 3. A knock goes on my door. Although I’m not doing anything, I felt suspicious. So I rush onto my bed and start reading a page of the book closest to me. ‘Twilight’. A classic. “Come in!” I shout. I expected it to be my mum, but it’s Scott. Guilt. Why? I don’t know. I didn’t do anything wrong. Even so, there’s still a feeling of guilt in my body. And it’s heavy. “You never knock,” I laugh nervously. “I wanted to apologise for leaving you at the party. That was a shitty brother move,” he shrugs. As much as I appreciate it, it feels weird. Does he know? I let a moment of silence go by before answering. “It’s fine, at least nothing happened,” looking back at my home screen, I hope that Scott leaves. Of course he doesn’t. He hasn’t asked the vital question. “So... where’d you crash?” Now... I could lie. I feel like I could lie easily too. Only if it’s not a trick question. What if Monty’s already told Scott? Then it’ll look like I’m covering something up. Am I? Nah. “Monty took me to his, but I swear nothing happened,” I almost rush out. Scott’s facial expression doesn’t really change, other than look slightly relieved. “Don’t worry, I trust you,” there’s a pause. “So did you, like, share a bed?” Which makes me smile massively. Only my brother would ask such an awkward question. “He actually gave me his bed, and I think he slept on a chair.” Scott looks surprised. “That chair in his bedroom?” He asks. I nod slowly. “Hmm,” and he leaves.

I spend the rest of my day rewatching Teen Wolf. Let’s not lie, it’s one of the best shows out there! So here I am, crying at how beautiful Stiles is, and my phone starts to ring. Heart: drops. It’s only Monty. For some reason I’m nervous to talk to him. So I hesitate answering the phone. Just do it Y/N! “Hey,” I clear my throat lightly. For context, Monty never calls me. Why would he? We’ve texted on and off about stupid shit. Like ‘is Scott with you’ and ‘can I copy your work’. That’s it. “Y/N, how are you?” His voice echos softly through my ear. “I’m alright, what’s up?” My hair twiddles around my forefinger. “What are you doing right now?” Other than crying at a stupid Netflix show? Other than getting nervous about you calling me? “Nothing, I think Scott’s-” “I didn’t call you to ask where Scott is,” he chuckles *cutely*. His tone made it sound like that was a strange thing to say. Like I said, he’s never really called me before. Not to actually speak to me. “So, what’s up?” I ask again. My body doesn’t seem to know what to do. I go from sitting down, to laying on my back, to my front, to pacing the floor. All over the place. “I was- uh- wondering if you could sneak out?” He whispers mischievously. Eyebrows: raised. I gasp through the phone with a smile. Tutting at him, I lose the capability to speak for a second. I clear my throat again. “Monty-” “Just for a walk.”

Walking to meet Monty was insane. I don’t even know my intentions, let alone his. But somehow it makes sense. The sky is dark, the air blows cold. My joggers keep my legs cosy. My arms, however, were unprepared. I’m not cold though. I’m nervous. The uncertainty of this whole thing is driving me insane. The craziness is eating at me. And yet I don’t know if I wanna face Monty. But I am. He’s ahead of me. My stomach just can’t keep still. Even with him standing right in front of me. Whatever happens, will happen. “I thought you were gonna stand me up, Y/N,” his smile screams nerves, which made me more nervous. A guy like Monty should never be nervous. “I was hesitant to come,” he nods slowly. “But I’m here.”

The chat was just about stupid shit, funny times, and thick with ‘beating around the bush’. I should be paying attention to where we were going. The absolutely insane thing is I trust Monty. I probably always have done. Through the teasing, and the being Scott’s twin sister, I’ve always felt somewhat comfortable. He’d even given me just hoodie to wear. I’m not sure if it’s something to read into, or it’s simply a kind gesture. “Monty... why did we just walk around for like 30 minutes just to get back to my house?” I can’t hold it back anymore. I need to know why I’m here. “Why am I walking the streets with you half 10 at night?” He avoids my eye contact. I realise that he doesn’t plan on answering me right now. I stop in my place, grabbing his hand. His skin soft and warm. I wish he wasn’t so damn hard to read. “Maybe I just wanted to hang out with you?” Shaking my head, I smile at the ground before locking eyes with him again. This time his eyes stay on mine. Neither of us move. “I’m confused,” a smile spreads across his face. “I’ve been confused for a while,” my eyebrows lift in curiosity. A while? Is he confused about the same shit I am? “Explain it to me.” And he just starts walking away from me.

“Monty!” I slightly jog up to him. It’s wrong of me, but I just wanted everything out on the line. I wanted it written in black and white. “It’s hard to explain the fact that I’m pretty much in love with my best friend’s sister,” my heart drops, yet it’s full at the same time. Jaw; dropped. “I- what?” My hands cover my gradually growing smile. His face stays neutral. This whole thing is just insane. “I’m sorry, but I am obsessed with everything you stand for,” and that does it. I know there is an unwritten rule about your brother’s best friend. This makes me entirely shitty. It’s nothing I ever imagined. The silence on my end makes Monty start to walk away. “You know what!” Once again I grab Monty. “Fuck it,” this time reaching for the back of his neck and pulling him close. Our lips magnetise together. Ive never felt such passion and respect from a person. The unbelievable feeling of his fingers crawling to my waist was something I realise I’ve been missing. It’s just one long kiss, and yet it’s so much more than that. Unknowing, I have been waiting for this moment for a little too long. He pulls my body as close to his as possible. I should be considering the fact that Scott could just look out his window. A thought should’ve crossed my mind that this is one of the shittiest things either of us could do. My conscience shouldn’t be clean. Right now, this is all I can think about.

I feel like I should feel guiltier than I do. I was more nervous of Scott catching me than my parents. Scott and I have always been close. We’re twins. We will always be that. But Monty and Scott? What just happened between me and Monty was risky for that. Yet I lay on my bed staring at my ceiling; I’m smiling like a fool. The clock reads 23:39. Just sleep Y/N. I just kissed Montgomery De La Cruz. A simple, but so perfect, kiss. I can’t wrap my head around it, let alone the fact that he said he’s ‘pretty much’ in love with me. Like shit. Is he gonna regret telling me that in the morning? I hope not.

- The Next Morning -

Nerves and a centimetre of guilt pumps through my veins, waking me up at exactly 06:12. I usually wake up at 07:00, so I might as well shower. I know I shouldn’t dress up just because Monty pronounced his love for me. You know I’m going to though. A touch of mascara and tinted lip balm will be subtle enough.

“You’ve gotta stop looking like that,” Scott shakes his head at me as I jog down the stairs and into the dining room. “Scott! You look beautiful sweetheart,” my mum kisses me on the cheek and hands me a plate of pancakes. I can’t even think about eating right now. “She does it just to flirt with Monty,” a metal spoon hits my back. He scoffs. “I do not!” Usually that would be true, but today it’s not. My high waisted shorts sit perfectly on my hips, and my fitted crop top hugs my breasts. I look down at my outfit. I honestly don’t even thinks it’s that bad. “It’s not my fault Monty flirts with me,” I tease Scott. Is that even a joke though? “Fuck, you wish!” “Right!” My mum shouts. Definitely at the swearing. “Just get to school!”

There’s silence in the car. Not even the radio plays a sound. This is where the guilt starts to sink in. “We’re picking Monty up, could you move to the back when we get to his?” Scott asks, cracking the first ‘smile’ towards me today. “Oh I see how it is,” I grunt jokingly, and he actually smiles. I can’t imagine what it would be like if me and Monty carried on. If anything it shows that yesterday was a mistake and can’t happen. Too much would be risked. We don’t live far from Monty, so in seconds we were outside. It hadn’t even sunk in that I have to see him today. Fuck. Slipping out the car, we lock eyes. “Good morning, Reed,” he huskily whispers. His smile captivates me, but I just have to ignore it. Just like I’m ignoring the fact that when I slid past him to get to the back seats, our bodies scraped together: I thought, stupidly enough, sitting behind Scott would mean there would be no eye contact between Monty and I. Boy was I wrong. In the corner of his eye. In the rear view mirror. It would stop if I stopped looking at him... right now that seems impossible.

“Hey Y/N,” Jess smiles at me as I walk past her locker. Strange? But I stop and turn. “Hey, how are you?” I ask, watching her grab her books. “I’m all good. I just wanted to apologise for Clay the other day. He’s just a bit-” “I deserved it, don’t even worry about it.” She presses her top and bottom lips together tightly. “Thank you though,” I open my arms to hug her, which she surprisingly accepts, until I get a tap on the shoulder. Jess releases me. When I turn and see Monty, my heart goes from zero to a hundred real fast. Imagine a boy having such a grip on you. “Monty,” my voice comes out shaky. “Jessica,” Monty nods at her, and he grunts. “I’ll see you later,” she screws her face up at him and walks away. “She’s such a bitch,” he rolls his eyes. THIS is what I don’t like about Monty. I just wish that list was longer than the stuff I do like about him. “Anyway, can we go talk somewhere?”

Panic thoughts rush through my head as I walk out the school with Monty. What if someone starts gossiping about the fact that we’ve left the school to talk? That’s so fucking stupid. Why would people do that? I’m a little nervous. I’m actually a LOT nervous. Breathe Y/N. I take a seat on the wall behind me. “I wanted to know how you’re feeling?” He simply says. I smile down to myself. “You make this so hard, why can’t you just be an asshole to me?” I let out in a whispered chuckle. “Is that what you want?” He brushes the back of his hand against my arm. “What do you want from this?” My question just makes him raise his eyebrows, as if the answer’s obvious. Does he want a fuck-buddy? Does he want a relationship? Is he just trying to fuck with my emotions? I mean, that last one’s completed with flying colours. “You’re gonna hate me for saying this Y/N, but I honestly just want you.” If anyone else said such a thing, I’d tell them to get a grip. This is Monty. Bad boy image with devilishly good looks. The boy you love to hate, and hate to love. He’s not meant to actually swoon for a girl. Is that what’s happening? Holy shit. “I don’t know if that can happen, what about Scott?” He smiles to himself. His body places itself next to me. “This has nothing to do with Scott,” he shrugs. I wish that was true. “All Scott does is warn me to stay away from you. You’re his best friend,” hand goes to my knee. My naked knee. Please move your hand a little higher; no. “I know, but he’d get over it,” I make a ‘would he really’ face at him. It’s hard to believe that. My eyes gaze away from him for a second. I look at the sky and the trees and that school building. Monty’s eyes are the last place I should look. Except my eyes drift back to his in a second. Stomach; drops. He slowly begins to move his head towards mine. I want to stop him. I want to consider the fact that anyone could see us right now. Including Scott. In all honesty, his lips aren’t moving towards mine fast enough. “Montgomery,” my whispered words stop his in his place. My forehead fall onto his. “I’d risk it, for you.”

School is always a drag, but when you’re waiting for it to end it goes 10x slower. Once again, the rest of our people had last period free. This leaves Monty and I the only ones left. I should be avoiding the boy at all costs. But my hearts flutters when I see him waiting at the school doors for me. I can’t even find words. “Hey,” Monty gives me a contained smile, as if he was holding back. I’m already blushing. “Montgomery,” I say simply. He starts moving, so my body automatically follows his lead. I honestly can’t help it. Can you blame me? Have you met the guy?! “Do you wanna walk with me?” Walk with him? Fuck yeah. But we all know what happened on that last walk of ours. For some reason that only makes me want to walk with him even more. I can’t control myself... he must have a voodoo doll or something.

As usual, our chats flow too naturally. I guess we’ve always spoken, but I never realised how well we got on until recently. Have I been hiding these feelings? It wasn’t intentional. But I should be containing my feelings now. I should cut Monty off before we hurt Scott. I wish I could. “How do you feel?” He asks again. Fuck, I wish he’d leave it alone. “That’s a loaded question Monty.” He stops in his place. A thought bubble appears above his head. It’s only for a few seconds. Then he softly takes hold of my forearm, and leads me into an alleyway. This is it. This is where he kills me. Both of his hands go to my wrists, lifting them and pushing me against the wall. This is single handedly the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced in my life. His eyes just stare back into mine. We’re so used to just staring at each other at this point. “How do you feel?” He asks again. I feel like I want his body on top of mine if we’re honest. A smug look captivates his face. Can he hear my thoughts? I gulp loudly. I think I’m about to have a heart attack. “Y/N,” he whispers deeply. “Can you just kiss me already?!”

He’s seems almost struck by my words. As if, although he wanted to hear them, he wasn’t expecting me to actually say them. His eyes scan my body intricately, up and down. I could watch him look at me all day. “Monty... did you hear what I said?” I ask. The corners of his mouth turn up before he makes a move. Finally. His lips on mine once again. I’ve been aching for this moment for at least 16 hours since the last, and first, time. Only this time it’s not just a long, still kiss. Within seconds his tongue asks for access into my mouth. The angel on my shoulder makes me hesitate. This is wrong. But it’s so fucking right. The devil, and my entire body, screams yes. His mouth; warm. The massaging sensation of his tongue sends flutters in every place possible. His hands squeeze my wrists tighter before realising them. They move to balance on the wall. Mine go to the bottom of his tee and... I realise we’re outside. In public. Where everyone and anyone can see us. I break away from his spell for a second. It’s somewhat comforting to see him breathing just as heavy as me. My right hand goes to his chest. “Fuck...” I whisper. I lean my head on the front of his shoulder. In the most adorable way, he places a soft kiss on the top of my head. He can definitely do that more often. “Do you wanna come back to mine?” He asks. What a stupid fucking question.

Luckily we were only seconds away from Monty’s place. I felt giggly the whole 3-5 minutes. It’s like I was in a trance. I heard Monty say that he dad was at work, and honestly it’s all I needed to hear. I could think about guilt, l right now, or anything other than the fact that I’ve never needed or wanted something so much in my life. So he unlocks the door. Before we can even get in the building, I turn Monty towards me and jump. My legs wrap around his waist tightly as I latch my lips onto his. This time there was nothing stopping us. Slam goes the door behind us. The wetness between my legs only grows as Monty’s hands cup my ass cheeks. Squeezing slightly, I let a small, breathy moan enter his mouth. He grunts. “Fuck, Y/N,” he mutters between our lips. It’s almost like he stepped foot on the gas. I’m not sure how, but Monty walks us up the stairs whilst we make out, all the way up to his bedroom. Maybe I should be wondering how he’s so good at this. I couldn’t care less.

My back bounces onto the bed. Our lips stay apart for only a second before his body is above mine. Hands smooth up and down from my hips to my waist. His fingers crawl to the buttons of my shorts. He stops. “Is this okay?” He asks. This is the moment. I know, just by that statement alone, that Monty is worth it. It confirms it all for me. My hands cover my mouth in awe. “I fucking love that,” I pretty much squeal. “Monty,” I speak, holding his head between my hands. “This is more than okay, I need you.” His lips attach back onto mine, and he starts undoing my shorts. I wiggle and lift my body to make it go faster, but they just don’t come off fast enough. All I keep imagining is that this is a dream. This is too crazy to be actually happening.

Just as Monty’s lips go to my neck, I hear a buzz. Is that my alarm? No. So this must be real. It is, however, Monty’s phone ringing. Monty pulls himself off of me. I reach over, pick up his phone, and see ‘Scotty’ written across the top. 1. Cute. 2. Fuck. “Imma just ignore it,” he smirks, rubbing his body back against mine. I don’t know what comes over me, but I find the strength and confidence to flip us over. I smile massively at what I’ve just accomplished. Here I am, straddling Montgomery De La Cruz. Does it get any better? His eyes look shocked. “That’s so fucking hot,” he lifts his head to lock our lips. “Shut up,” I whisper against his lips. I slide my tongue between his lips and... a phone rings. “Fuck,” I grunt frustratedly. ‘Scott’ comes across my phone this time. “Fuck, I’m gonna have to answer it,” I speak in a panic. “It’s fine just ignore him,” he reaches to grab my phone. My hand moves slowly away, making his eyes roll. “He could put 2 and 2 together and make 4,” I say simply. Shit. Act natural. “Hey Scott,” the key is to not overthink this. I won’t think about the fact that I’m in a thong straddling him best friend. Or that Monty’s fingers are tracing pattens on my ass cheeks. “Hey, have you seen Monty?” Of course. What other question would he ask? ‘I have actually. He’s currently between my legs. I could pass you on?’ But no. “No I haven’t, what’s up?” I hear a sigh through the phone. Okay Scott, just hang up now. “Bryce is looking for him. Where are you?” I put a bit of pressure on Monty’s chest with my hand, as I sign to stop, but he does not. Instead he squeezes my buttcheeks ever so slightly. This sends a rush of pleasure through my body, and a HEAVY breath out my mouth. “It sounds dodgy your end Y/N,” he laughs. I can hear the nerves in his voice. I know he’s thinking the worst, and it’s actually a reality right now. “I’m just working out.” In my head I can see Scott shake his head at my response. You’d think, as a jock, he’d understand the grind of working out and keeping fit. But no, Scott is naturally built like an athlete. “Well, enjoy that shit I guess?” His voice is uncertain. “If you do see Monty, tell him to come to the house! Bye,” before I can respond, he hangs up. I think I did it.

I let out a deep breath of relief. “Scott said that if I see you I should tell you to go to our house,” Monty pretends to throw me off him, but instead he flips us back over. “You can go if you’d like,” I mutter, slowly sticking out my bottom lip. I’m lying. My legs tighten around his body. His eyes widen. “I think I’m gonna stay with you,” he smiles, planting his lips back onto mine. He continues to kiss down my neck, just like he was before we were interrupted. “Montgomery,” I’m not sure if I regret stopping him. Theres just one thing I need more than this foreplay right now. Eyes: locked together. Fuck. He makes me nervous. I feel like it’s my first time all over again. “Can you just, like, fuck me now?” I giggle. I hardly finished my sentence before he pulls himself off me to go into a drawer. A condom. To get comfy, I move myself to his pillows. To think, a couple of days ago I woke up in this room panicking because I thought I slept with Monty. Now I’m about to.

He rummages the condom on in seconds. I’ll worry about the fact that he’s clearly very experienced later. “Is this good?” He asks. I could make a silly joke about how ‘he hasn’t started yet’. But I know exactly what he means. And it’s so fucking cute. My hands reach for the back of his head, pulling his lips onto mine for just a peck. “This is perfect.” Eyes are locked together, he leans down and rubs his nose on mine. The palpating going through my body is concerning. And somehow, just when he starts entering, it feels real. This only probably ever crossed my mind once. I steady my breathing as he pushes himself further inside me. Not a virgin, but definitely not a slut. In my opinion anyway. He notices me trying to get comfortable and plants his lips on mine for one long kiss. Humming vibrates from his lips onto mine. I want this moment to last forever.

Breath. Monty stays still for just a second, and pulls his lips away from mine. His right hand sweeps a strand of my hair out of my face. I reach my right hand up to his face, caressing his cheek and smoothing my thumb against his bottom lip. “You are,” pause, “so beautiful,” he says boldly. It wasn’t whispered. It wasn’t a question. I could hear he meant it. Montgomery De La Cruz thinks I’m beautiful. Without warning, he starts to pull out. My mouth gapes more and more. You know that point where you’re on a rollercoaster and you’re waiting for the drop... that was the anticipation for Monty to start thrusting. I’m a mess underneath him. When he does start, I feel myself coming apart at the seams already. His lips go back to mine, my arms stretch around his neck to pull him closer. Our tongues dance around. This was a ‘finally’ moment. The steadiness of the thrusts was perfection. It wasn’t rough, but it was nowhere near slow. And gentle. Everything about this boy was gentle. I don’t know if anyone has ever seen this soft Monty. I want this Monty all to myself. And right now, he’s mine. I wanted, and I needed, him as close as I could. My legs probably couldn’t wrap around his waist any tighter.

My entire being wanted to hold on for as long as I could, but this boy has some serious tricks. I feel like I’m quite stubborn so I could hold off. Monty’s right hand smooths down my hip, down my thigh, and hooks under my knee. As he lifted my leg slight higher, I knew I couldn’t hold on. “Fuck,” I pretty much squeal into his mouth as he reaches my g-spot. My abdomen bursts with excitement. My eyes glance at him biting his bottom lip very discreetly. His lips move from my lips to the side of my neck. I close my eyes for a second to just soak this moment in. I never thought I needed to feel this close to Monty. The pace increases by 2x at least, and a long lost knot begins to form in my stomach. It’s as if my body can sense the boy’s need to release. I think we’ve both been waiting for this moment for a little longer than we think we have. “Please tell me your close,” his husky voice tingles my neck. “Oh my god!” I moan loudly as my climax... finally. Connected. We continue to ride out each other’s highs. Wow.

My head lays against Monty’s chest. I know this can’t last forever. At some point I have to go home. When my heart stops racing, I sit up. “Do you regret it?” Is the first thing Monty asks. I smile to myself slightly. I shake my head slowly. “I kinda wish I did,” I shrug and turn my body towards him and cross my legs. “What do we do now?” I ask with a nervous giggle. He just stares at me. I’ve never been looked at like that before. “Scott’s gonna have to get over it. You’re too beautiful to keep it a secret,” cheesy, but fucking cuuuute. “Shut up. You’ll start making me believe it in a minute,” I push his chest lightly. Monty takes my hand and pulls me close to him. “You’re beautiful Y/N.” It’s hard to make jokes when the most handsome person is staring you dead in the eyes. My cheeks heat too quickly. “So, I heard you kinda like your best friends sister... how’s that working out for you?” I whisper. He opens his mouth, smiling massively for a second. “I actually say that I’m in love with my best friend’s sister. You should get your facts right.” A grin bigger than my head itself forms. “Wow, sassy Monty’s got,” I tease. “I mean it, Y/N. I’m in love with you.” I open my mouth to respond, but no words seems to form. I gobsmacked. Most of the times when I say I’m speechless, I’ve still got shit to say. I don’t know what to say to that. “Fuck, Monty,” I whisper. I nudge my nose against his chin. “If it turns out it’s because I look a little like Scotty, I’m gonna be pissed,” I laugh. Once again, Monty flips us over and puts his body between my legs. He put his tongue between his lips, licking them very sexily I might add. “That’s just a bonus,” my mouth drops open before pulling Monty’s lips down onto mine once again.

#13 reasons why #13rw #montgomery de la cruz #13 reasons why montgomery #scott reed #13 reasons why scott #monty x reader #monty smut #smut #Montgomery de la Cruz x reader

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psychemeanscure · 4 years

Text

PART 5 {Images and gifs aren’t mine. Hehe. Just a simple reminder. Lol. Happy reading! :)}

Indeed, this couple of weeks and months was hectic days for the both of them. Especially for Jang Taeyoung, true to his words he did manage everything without involving Sung Eunyoung who’s just with her usual business prowess maintaining every aspect of her trades. Truth be told, she was anxious as well, fortunately he certainly did well, from the shipment of both Cargos up to meeting the son. Thus, today they have been invited for dinner by the Spanish old man as gratitude of their partnership.

“Welcome! Welcome, to my humble home lovely couple.”

A greeting from the former anyhow as they walk through inside, linking each other’s arms. “Thank you for inviting us Señor.” A respond from him as well. “Oh, Come on. This is just a simple thing to do. Speaking of, the dinner is all set. I bet you two are starving already. Or rather I, was the one who’s starving? I think the latter I guess.” Answered by a humorous remark from the old man then as they went inside it’s dining room, talking random stuffs, compliments to complements and of course business should not be an exemption, and until Jang Taeyoung seems to be looking for someone.

“If I may ask Señor, I haven’t seen your son today. Where is he somehow? “

“Oh, Zilo? Hm. Obviously, enjoying the time of his life out there of your Nightclub. I guess introducing it as a dealing abode is good thing for him surely, since he has no knack for casinos. You really did a good job to that boy. How I wish you’re my son as well.”

If only the old man knew that it isn’t even their reason choosing the Nightclub over the Casino as the dealing premise. Truth be told, it’s simply because his Casino is already famous with the all so loyal fishing police officials that it’s going to be chaos being busted. Well thanks to the connections of her, it never happened.

Hence, seconds later, the whole dining room were filled with their constant laughter certainly. Not for Sung Eunyoung though. She may have the face of an anticipating fiancé, yet the back of her minds says she wants to puke numerous times, cringe at every statement the Spanish gambler is throwing. How she wished he’s aware how many times did she kill him in her mind.

“Papá~ Your dearest son is home~ Where are you my dear el papá?”

The resonating voice of his son echoed effortlessly from the hallway that made their conversation halt for a bit. “Oh! There you are. Ooh… And with a guest. You did not tell me. Hi brother! And you---” as if a shotgun phrase from the young boy definitely, and before its interest motion to her, his father already barge in. “Could you even sit down first, son?” a bit unpleased being interrupted, he followed still anyway, sitting beside his father.

“Happy?” a mockery response from the son indeed, unbothered by his father’s frowning face, as he’s already eager to be able to know the dashing lady across him. Sensing the explicit stare of the latter on her. Well she can’t blame him though, for it’s certainly their first time meeting each other.

Therefore, she chooses to initiate the introduction in some way. “Amilia Martin. Nice to meet you.” Her firm primer indeed while handing her hand to him who’s only delightedly smiling the whole time with her. “Zilo Alcaziar. Pleasingly pleased to meet you as well m---“

“My fiancé, brother.”

He was stop surely for planning to kiss the back of her hand as a greeting, for as Jang Taeyoung dominantly cleared his throat while frivolously snatching the hand of his one and only fiancé. “What? Oh! Come on brother. Do you have to ruin the mood? Urgh. What a great timing. Now I have to call you sis.”

A humorous grumpiness from the troublemaker son indeed, that is once again filled the dining with laughter. If she has one thing wants with the Alcaziar, It’s the humor definitely cause even her was humored unpreparedly. He got her there certainly. But well no thanks. She would rather forget it if it only means coming from them.

Zilo decides to go upstairs first, leaving again with the three of them. Thus, another round of their casual talk follows. It was so-so at first, but not until the curious Jang opens a certain talk he did not expect may fume her.

“Know what, Señor. I’m still fascinated on how you manage to support your son’s activities. I mean, yes there ain’t no parent who wouldn’t want to fulfill their kid’s dream but don’t you doubt teaching Zilo in such a young age? He come a long way for a 20-year-old.”

Only answered by a grinning father while slicing the meal on its plate. “Nah, that boy isn’t even look like a 20-year-old anyway.” As if its backstab remark of his own son that as a matter of fact, indeed mature for his age, given a growing beard from his chin, even still born with a pale skin the built obviously deteriorate it caused from recent addictions.

“But seriously. If you can’t pamper your children as early as now, they only end up getting stubborn. Worst, they’ll only hate us as well. Besides, the younger they started the powerful they could become. Am I right?”

Answered by their agreeing smile anyhow. As they listen to his proceeding sentiments. “It always works for me--- Oh right. Except for one.” Intends to stop its words after wiping his mouth with a cloth and a sip of wine.

“Let me tell you a story. You see, stubbornness is the exact point here and this friend of mine is exactly the same. We were once partners in any ways. The same perspective. We click each other’s company. In short, we simply share the same mind. Then it happens that things didn’t work out for him. So I offered a special deal. I started pampering him things, opportunities and chances but he’s a rock head. He doesn’t glimpse with the idea even with all my efforts to persuade him. To help him. But, still. Nothing.”

Shrugging from reminiscing the memory, as he takes another sip of his wine. “So what happened to him now, Señor?” Jang Taeyoung’s casually following the flow of the conversation somehow. “I killed him, of course! What more should I do if he’s going to be useless anyway. And you know what’s funny?” its cliffhanging sentence then, while a stun flexed by their physique. Worried that the latter may notice their sudden stiffness, Jang instantly reverse indeed. But looking Sung Eunyoung who chooses to eagerly torture the meat on her plate is dangerous.

That he had to hold her gripping hand from the utensils hoping to calm her as the least he could do. It helped somehow maybe. That’s what he wants to believe for he was confused also by her calm but somewhat raging aura. Lucky the Spanish man is completely unaware someway, as he started his proceeding sentences.

“Funny when after all my killing of him I am still seeking for my price. Back in… Barcelona I think? 20… oh, yes! 2001. That year. Jeez. I thought I had learned to forget that but No!” He was even laughing while remembering it. “You see; I don’t usually note the dates of my victims really but I guess he’s an exemption indeed. Tss. If only I had claim it back, then. Unfortunately, the one I was looking for is nowhere to be found. Just a snap, vanished. Unlucky isn’t it? Or is it because it’s raining cats and dogs that day? I guess I’m going to go with my superstitions. It’s the rain’s fault then.”

And she lost it. As the halted screeching sound of the table knife she’s using is finally visible to the ears not just with her acting fiancé but with the old man as well. For she already concluded that the one he’s talking is definitely her father. Her inside is fuming definitely. Completely oblivious of the scratch she made on the plate. She was just there, looking down her meal with ferocity.

That even the concern remark of the latter is already out of her range. She’s dying to kill him right there and then and just has to perform striking him with the keen knife she’s holding and viola, end of her misery. “Amilia.” And yes. If not because of Jang Taeyoung who’s trying to get her composure back with a soft touch of her shoulder.

“Are you alright?”

As much as she does not like to suppress her anger this time. She had no choice anyway. She can’t sacrifice a possible outcome of her impetuosity. “Yah. I’m good. Just a bit nausea though. But it’s bearable, don’t worry.” And nausea, is definitely the understatement. For she intended to throw it to the man across her. Vomit is the best word. But the filthy Spanish man had misunderstood it instead. “Nausea? Oh… Why am I having a good hunch on this, huh? You two. You can’t wait aren’t you?” squinting them with a suspicious look.

And she knows what it meant absolutely. Bringing a fork of meat to her mouth, she speaks. “Shall we go get myself a check-up, then?” Looking lovingly to the man beside her who’s already cringing from the inside. Left with no options. “Well, I guess we need to. Before father may scold us more.” His humorous go with the flow response anyway before giving his all not so forced smiles on them. Only to end him up as a joker though.

“So it’s settled! We are going.”

While she managed to give her all not so fake smiles as well. Especially to the man who’s name she want to engrave to the ground so badly.

“Hijo de puta!”

“Did you see that? Did you see how he talk about my father so casually? And that puto is basically enjoying! Mierda.”

That’s it certainly. He was literally punished by her nonstop curses again even he hasn’t done something wrong. She wasn’t even aware that he still following her up to her apartment, only notice when they were already in her doorstep when he walks ahead of her after. “Did you just followed me up to here?” her dumbfounded question indeed that she has to eye between her door and him as if to make sure she’s right. “Obviously? Unless you want to be called as a crazy woman talking by herself though.” And when she was about to proceed for another cursing he stop her promptly then by shutting her mouth with his index finger.

“Shh. Enough of that. Can we just celebrate for now?” thus confusions hunt her at the moment, frowning from his remark. “What has to celebrate?” unwelcomingly rummaging to her kitchen, he went back successfully with a bottle of champagne, a wineglass for two, and a wine opener in his both hands. Setting it up to her bar table which is as well set towards a window glass overlooking the busy neon lights of the city. And with the final pop-up from the cork stopper, he speaks.

“For seeing each other finally after several days?” His blunt answer surely while she was left from a distance. Wandering eyes staring at him who’s already sitting, impatiently waiting for her. True somehow that they haven’t seen each other personally these past hectic days and only talking through phone calls. But why the hell she cares though? “Come on. Don’t keep me waiting, Ms. Sung.”

With crossing of arms and a groaning reaction, she had no choice definitely but to follow his path. “And then, what?” her unwilling words somehow after sitting across him. ”Tell me the whole story.” And just by looking with her ignoring reaction, he understood. “I won’t take a no for an answer this time Eunyoung. I can’t understand anything if you still leave me hanging of everything. I need to at least know something for me to avoid incident just as what happened a while ago.” Shrugging from the thought, he proceeds.

“It’s your lo---“

“Fine. I will.”

He was cut-off undoubtedly, yet relieve after realizing her answer. Readily noting every detail, she would share in his mind. So, she started while all he does was listen. Then until they reach to the crucial side of the story that left him unprepared as well. “Bankruptcy has hit dad bigtime absolutely that he had to seek help with that coño amigo of him. Only to find out his condition as a risk.”

“Did you found out about the condition as well?”

“Unfortunately, No. I only grip with this information of him from NIS.”

She handed him her phone as he is expecting a file from it, too late to realize… “What the f*ck! You have access in NIS?!” his curses in no time indeed as he was actually shown by the actual system of it. Only to receive a bragging laugh from her. “Jang. I’m no Amilia Martin for nothing. You should have known that. Tss.” She, who’s now confidently sipping her wine then.

“Whatever. You shouldn’t make it hard for me to search their whereabouts when you can just help me with this. You, secretive volatile.” Twitching his brows in a way as he handed back her phone. “Sorry, but I don’t share. Besides, I’m paying you for that job. Why would I waste my time helping? You should work for it.”

“That’s just it, really? Are you sure it isn’t because you want to keep seeing me as well?” Thus their bickering starts again. Eyeing her suspiciously. “Look who’s talking.” Rolling her eyes unwillingly. Only to see a placing elbow to the armrest of the seat he’s occupying just to caress his smirking lips by his thumb while desirably staring at her. She knew right there, he’s starting again.

“I missed you.”

Like she expected, and she’s lying if she says she didn’t even stiff by that certain remark because she did eventually. But as if she’ll let him take chances. Screw him. Putting down her empty wineglass, sternly looking at him. “Can you at least end a day without picking me up, gilipollas?” only to hear his nonchalant laugh instead. “You know what, you’re really something. Back there and today, don’t you know how I eagerly want to applause you with that façade annoyance of you? How did you do that, huh? Maintaining a classy calm face but blazingly livid inside?”

“Is that a mockery or a compliment? Cause I do think it’s the former. You---“

“Oops! Please, halt there. Can’t you see my ears bleeding already?”

Before she could utter another swear, he instantly stops her with his idioms absolutely. “And picking? Great, look who’s talking as well. For my mind can’t process how did I become an instant father when all we did was still kissed. Unless you do like to brought it to life though. Just one word and I’m so open Sung Eunyoung.”

A frowning her indeed. “Shut up! I’m not one of your perra, you cabrón. And for your information, It wasn’t even me. It was Amilia who’s talking. Please, see the difference for yourself.”

“Uhuh. That’s why I love Amilia, more than you. Her impulsiveness is my everything.”

And she’s finally full of him absolutely, uncontrollably shut her eyes out of frustration. “Are you even--- “

“Jealous with your own identity?”

She was cut-off by his syllabic sentence indeed, even it isn’t what she meant otherwise. That with a final slap of her palm on the bar table, pushing herself to stand up, grab him by his suit gorge and drag him out of her premise is the only way. But not all of it happened though. For by the time she tries to grab his gorge, she was the one been grabbed by him instead. The next thing she realize…

His lips have already pressed to hers. “Don’t worry. I’m still more passionate for you, though.”

Their stares and closeness had her off guard already what more with their position nonetheless. She’s factually cornering him in between his seat. Hands that had to land to the armrest while the other on his beating chest makes it worse. “Feel that? Amilia can never do that. Only you can, Sung Eunyoung.”

His hoarse remark this time, only to mark it as her worst then. ‘Shut up.’ The silent word she keeps on reminding on her pounding heart as well. She knew that it was just one of his usual taming actions, but her inside is fighting again. Thus, with his last farewell gesture. He takes her hand from his chest only to kiss the side of her palm between the thumb and wrist. As if the peck a while ago wasn’t enough and doing so is his only way of satisfaction.

“Shut up, shut up, Shut. Up!”

Voicing it out definitely after a close from her door was heard that means he left finally.

#kim soo hyun #seo ye ji #seo yea ji #psycho but it's okay #itsokaynottobeokay #ko mun yeong #realkoreanmovie #real #jangtaeyeong #jang tae young #sung eun young #by quantum physics #quantum physics #nightlife ventures #moon gang tae #hyunji #hyunjicouple

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sarcastic-space-gal · 4 years

Text

The Dancer with Golden Earrings (Part 5)

Summary: It has been a year since you and Jaskier finally declared to one another. Both of you had never felt this happy in your entire life, until destiny decided to give a cruel turn of events.

Pairing: Jaskier x Reader;

Word Count: 4k;

Warning: Angst, so much angst, mention of blood and wounds;

A/N: I almost cried writing this. EnJOy! (feedback is really appreciated)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

When you regained consciousness your body didn’t respond to your commands. You tried to open your eyes, you tried to talk or just mumble something, to turn your head… nothing. The only thing you were able to do was breathing. For now. Suddenly you felt a cold sensation on your cheek then a small drop running down your face. Was it

snowing… or were you crying?

___________________________________________________

A year. A year had already passed without you even noticing it. A year since you and Jaskier shared that desired kiss, and you still remembered it as it was just happened.

Geralt knew right away that something had happened when he came back to the camp covered in blood and other nasty fluids all over him and Jaskier didn’t say anything, not even a sarcastic comment.

He just stood there, playing his lute, his eyes bright with happiness as he occasionally glanced at you while you fixed the things in your bag.

Rain had stopped so you and Jaskier decided to head back to the camp. On your way back Jaskier couldn’t let go of your hand whether it was rubbing his thumb on you soft skin, squeezing lightly your intertwined fingers or kissing the back of your hand tenderly, before reluctantly letting go.

“Geralt! Here you are! How did the hunt go?” you asked smiling, relieved to see him safe and sound.

“Screw the hunt! We are together!” Jaskier sprinted next to you and in front of the witcher, encircling your waist with his arm, earning a giggle from you.

Geralt looked at you two, forgetting the tiring sensation after the hunt and his lips curved in a small smile.

“Hmmm” he ‘happily’ mumbled.

“Hmmm? Just ‘Hmmm’?! You have nothing else to say Geralt?! Just ‘Hmmm’?!”

Seeing the witcher completely soaked in all kinds of fluids and Jaskier’s uncontrollable rant was surely an hilarious scene.

Jaskier’s fist went to his hips “You should change your name in ‘Grumbler of Rivia’”

“‘Geralt’ is fine” he dropped his swords and turned on his heels, he was probably going to take a bath in the nearest river.

But before he could take another step he turned and got closer to the bard, laying a surprisingly soft hand on the bard’s shoulder.

“I’m happy for you” he said, smiling.

Jaskier mirrored his smile “Thank you, Geralt”

The witcher then turned and left but Jaskier couldn’t not notice how the smell didn’t follow him, instead was still filling the air. That’s when he turned and looked at his shoulder, now completely covered with the worst smelling fluid on earth.

“GERALT!”

And now here you were, still traveling around with them, being the happiest you have ever been.

After having a small dinner you sat around the campfire and began sewing the hem of your dress while listening to Jaskier, who was plucking his lute lightly. You were so focused on your work that Jaskier’s annoyed huff almost went unnoticed.

Then his face lit up “Yes!” he silently exclaimed, finding the right rhythm or rhyme.

“Composing something new?” your voice made Jaskier jump a little as he lifted his head from the strings, uneasiness clear in his expression.

“Just playing around with some notes”

“Alright then, keep your secrets” you winked, earning a smile from the bard.

In complete silence he placed down the lute and sat by your side, kissing your temple as you leaned on his touch.

“How far is the city Geralt?”

“I don’t know. Maybe days”

“Days?!” you and Jaskier both asked at unison.

“And that thing is coming with us?”

The ‘thing’ to which Jaskier’s was referring to was a bruxa carcass, result of Geralt’s hunt that he brought back to the camp, filling the air with the worst persistent smell that haunted your nostrils.

“Yes, it will. I hope I’ll get a payment for that, and for the others too”

“What do you mean?”

“I killed one but I think there are more out there” Jaskier gulped loudly at the witcher’s statement.

The idea of spending the night in a forest full of the worst creatures sent directly from the underworld surely made you and Jaskier feel uneasy as you shifted in your seats and looked around you with growing wariness.

However you knew Geralt was a skilled swordsman and having him by your side was reassuring.

“What about you? Who requested your presence?”

This time you spoke “Actually we don’t know” you took out from your bag the letter you received just few weeks ago “the invitation is signed ‘an admirer of yours’”

“Finally someone who has good taste” said the bard.

The fire was getting weaker, Jaskier could see his breath every time he exhaled as he kept you close providing a little warmth to your freezing figure.

“We should get some rest” Geralt mentioned before laying down on his bedroll facing away from you “If you can’t control yourselves tonight just be quiet.”

Your heart skipped a beat while wild thoughts appeared in Jaskier’s mind.

“Geralt it is already quite demanding trying to ignore the foul-smelling creature you brought back. I’m not even sure if I can sleep tonight, that smell is haunting”

Soon after you both heard Geralt snoring, your eyelids became heavier as you sat up and walked toward your bedroll.

“Where are you going?” Jaskier’s voice made you look behind your shoulders.

“”I’m going to...bed?”

“Oh no no no no no” he quickly sat up, grabbed your things and placed them near his “Do you think I would let you sleep over there?”

With that he got under his thick blanket and looked at you expectantly.

“Come on!” he beckoned to you.

Smiling brightly you didn’t think about twice and snuggled into him, the feeling of his arms wrapped around you sent shivers down your spine as you slowly warmed up.

The night was cold and the stars shined above you. It was one of those winter nights where the sky is clear and the pungent cold bites your skin.

“I’m so lucky to have you” he whispered as he looked up to the sky. You did the same.

Scooting closer to him, you placed your head in the crook of his neck, feeling his head leaning softly on you.

“I knew destiny had more in store for me… for us”

Almost at unison your gaze broke from the sky as you met each other’s eyes. I could get lost in those eyes forever, you both thought. Then your lips melted in a blissful kiss.

“I love you” you said.

“I love you too Y/n” he whispered “You are mine and I’m yours”

__________________________________________________

The night was cold and stars were obscured by clouds. The moon occasionally appeared between them, illuminating everything around you.

That was the first you noticed when you finally managed to crack your eyes open. The little snowflakes tingling your face let you know it was snowing.

Ultimately your eyes adjusted to the dark, you were laying on the ground, on your left side as you faced a three. Actually there were many of them.

In that moment you remembered. A memory flashed into your mind. You remembered anger, sorrow, emptiness, as you ran, careless of the bitter cold hitting your skin, tears ran down your cheeks, your eyes red.

Why was I crying?

Your thoughts were interrupted by loud sounds coming from behind you. Recognizing three distinct voices. Someone was screaming as a metallic sound pierced the air, a sword maybe? An unnatural growl followed.

Then you heard it: someone was calling your name, more and more loudly, repeatedly. You tried to answer, but you couldn’t.

The night was cold but you felt a warm sensation around you. Moving the hand that was laying on your side made you notice how red it actually was. It was for the cold, right?

___________________________________________________

At dawn the three of you left the forest. The trip was long and exhausting, traveling around during winter time was already quite challenging and having a rotting carcass near you didn’t make it any easier or a better experience.

If that wasn’t enough, you unfortunately discovered that you had misjudged your position and the city was farther away than you thought.

It took you almost a week to arrive, obviously stopping by along the way in small towns to buy food and sleep in a true bed. Luckily in one of those towns Geralt managed to get some coins for the rotting creature, getting rid of it and ultimately freeing you from the fetid smell.

When you finally glimpse the city’s gates, it looked like a mirage.

“Oh thank you!” Jaskier sighed loudly in relief “I was dreaming about this moment for days”

“So you don’t dream about me?” you playfully pouted behind the bard’s shoulders.

“Dear, I dream about you every night. Sometimes is you welcoming me at the city’s gates, sometimes is you in a warm tavern dancing and many times is me and you in a comfortable bed”

Laughing you poked him in the back.

Your way to the city was probably one of the most tiresome experience of your life but having Jaskier by your side made you forget about the cold and the endless rides on Pegasus’ back. Every night you would lay down next to him stargazing in his arms as you drifted off to sleep. The memories you both made during those times would never be forgotten.

“Now we just have to find our mysterious admirer” Jaskier mentioned while you got off Pegasus.

“I think you are talking about me, Viscount”

A silky, melodious female voice made you turn around where you saw a young woman around Jaskier’s age, dressed in a refined and elegant dress, her hair impeccable. She smiled, but not at you both, she had eyes only for Jaskier, and you immediately noticed.

“Countess de Stael? What a surprise” uneasiness clear in his voice.

He knows her?

“Jaskier, is such a pleasure having you here again” she approached you two and reached her hand out for Jaskier to kiss. Taken aback by her gesture he awkwardly took her hand and gave a small kiss.

“You didn’t change a bit Jaskier since we last saw each other”

All different kinds of thoughts filled your mind, as you tried to not get carried away by your emotions, you decided to play it off and not cause any scene.

“It was a long time ago. May I present you Y/n?” you stepped beside him and felt his hand in the small of your back, reassuringly.

“It’s so nice to make your acquaintance, Countess” you bowed a little.

She then proceeded to make the most perfect fake smile you ever saw in your life before greeting you briefly.

The countess however couldn’t not notice the complicity between you two “So you are together” Another fake smile.

“Indeed” Jaskier stated looking at you fondly.

“So you got over his wild past after all?” she asked finally making complete eye contact with you.

Your eyes went wide.

“Excuse me?” you couldn’t continue because she cut you off again.

“Oh but where are my manners, you must be very tired after a long ride, follow me I’ll show you where you will stay”

Her dress whirled around following her movement as you and Jaskier shared a look, anger in your eyes, uneasiness in his.

The inn was luxurious, the Countess had reserved only the best for her guests: the rooms were huge, warm and styled with all kinds of sophisticated furnishings. She then proceeded to accompany you to the assembly hall that had been completely decorated for the occasion.

“I will see you tomorrow night. I can’t wait to hear you play again like in the old days”

Back in your shared room, you and Jaskier had a lot to talk about. It was clear that he was troubled by that whole situation but you needed answers.

“Jaskier just tell me” you sighed, a little nervous but determined to listen everything he had to say.

He walked over to you and sat on your bed next to you, his eyes fixed on the floor.

“We met few years ago” he began, his tone terse and quieter than usual “It was one of my first travel around in palaces and the first time I played and sang for noble men and women”

You listened carefully in complete silence, occasionally nodding at what he said.

“Then I met her… it was a short romance, just a kiss, nothing important, really. I didn’t know she was her who sent the letter, I would have never agreed to come here” he looked up this time and met your eyes.

“Y/n, I…” before he could say anything else you placed your index finger on his lips lightly and at his own surprise, you smiled.

“Jaskier, we both have a past, I’m not here to judge you or judge your past, what I do care about is us” the hand that was on his lips went to his cheek.

The soft rubbing of your thumb on his skin made him relax a little, as he melted in your warm touch.

“I want you to know that you are the best thing that ever happened to me, I want let this situation cause arguments between us. You are mine and I’m yours.” he stated.

“You are mine, and I’m yours” you repeated.

His hand went to grab yours that was on his cheek, kissing it steadily.

Relief washed over both of you as you leaned making your foreheads touch lightly, enjoying this little moment together.

“If she proposes her hand to you again I’ll cut it off”

___________________________________________________

The night was terribly cold.

The tears you shed before were now dry and frozen on your face. Snow cleared, the moon fully shined in the dark sky, the ground was now filled with a white cover. Voices still roared behind you. You had to turn around. Using your hand you pushed a little as your body ached from head to toes. Only now you noticed how labored your breathing was, how tired you were. Gasping for the sudden movement you ultimately managed to turn and laid on your back and saw what was really happening.

The hand you used to push yourself around was now in front of you, staining the snow below. That’s when you realized the red color in your hand wasn’t for the cold.

___________________________________________________

Destiny likes to play games and it’s an excellent player. Just a terrible mix of bad coincidences placed at the right time and the trick is done.

That night Geralt was out hunting as you approached the assembly hall. The crowd gathered around the small stage was unbelievably large. Guess who was in the front row? The countess obviously, who kept looking at Jaskier as he played around you. However he was absolutely unconcerned about it and fixed his gaze on you and your beautiful dancing figure.

After performing some of your best songs, Jaskier went to the center of the stage “Now a new ballad, an exclusive for tonight”

You were a little surprised, usually you and Jaskier decided the songs to perform before going on stage, but he never mentioned this.

The song started slowly, his voice just a whisper. Improvising, you began moving around following the rhythm. Dancing around you kept listening to the words he was singing… a beautiful woman, the love he felt for her, the way her kiss saved his soul. One of the most beautiful ballad he had ever written. The rhythm, his tender words, the soft movement of his fingers on the lute’s strings

brought everyone to tears. You yourselves had watery eyes.

When he bowed, signaling the end of the ballad, the audience exploded as the room filled with a thunderous applause. You were instantly surrounded by all of them, complimenting you for the performance, for the ballads, for the beautiful night you had provided.

Fortunately the horde quickly scattered when Jaskier beckoned to you to follow him to the inn.

“I have a little fan here with me, I’ll be right there in few minutes” you said before picking up a little girl, who was completely obsessed with you and your golden earrings.

“Those a’ so shiny” she said playing with one of them.

“Do you like them?”

Jaskier smiled at the scene and nodded before heading out.

Five? Maybe ten minutes had passed since the bard had exited, when the little girl yawned and asked her parents to go to bed. You waved goodnight to the little family and went back to the inn for a much needed sleep.

Entering, you went upstairs toward your room and heard some noises.

“Jaskier, you have to tell me from where came that beautiful bal-”

The noises ceased right when you lifted your head and looked right in front of you. You could swear if someone was right next to you in that moment, he would have heard your heart breaking in million pieces. Tears welled in your eyes clouding your vision, but you could never forget what you had just saw.

Just outside your room there were Jaskier and the countess kissing. She was pushing him against the wall by the chest as he had his hands on her shoulders, his grip tight.

The bard immediately noticed your presence and pushed her away a little.

“Y/n!” he exclaimed as she turned and maliciously looked at you “That’s not what it seems”

You couldn’t hold it back, a hot tear ran down your cheek.

“How could you” you sobbed “How could you?”

The countess still had her hands on his chest before Jaskier firmly pushed her away even more.

The scene in front of you was unbearable, you backed off few steps before storming down the stairs. Without hesitation you took off running, careless of who you met down the streets and Jaskier’s voice calling you.

You ran, ran and ran ultimately exiting the city’s borders and entering the forest. It was snowing when you decided to halt and catch you breath. The houses and the city’s lights were no longer visible when you looked behind you, but you couldn’t care less. The usual silent environment when the snow covered everything around you, was now filled with your cries. Your uncontrollable sobs shook your freezing body as you collapsed on your knees, your hand covered your face.

“Y/n? Y/N?” you heard between your sobs “Y/n?!”

Just few seconds after you heard his voice calling your name, Jaskier appeared next to you.

“Y/n please let me explain”

“There nothing to explain, it is quite clear what it’s happening”

“No please let me-”

“It was only a game for you? All the time we spent together, our relationship, when you said you loved me, they were just empty words”

“No Y/n, that’s not true” he tried to reach out but you lifted and took a step back from him, anger clear in your voice even if your eyes showed how heartbroken you were.

“Now I understand. The song. The ballad you composed and sang tonight. You knew she was the mysterious admirer, you knew she was here. You wrote it just for her, isn’t it?”

“Y/n please”

You sobbed and his heart ached. Seeing you cry was the worst thing on earth and knowing he was the cause of it was unbearable.

“When I came back to the inn she was waiting for me outside our door, I dismissed her, telling that I wasn’t interested at all” he explained.

Your crying got quieter but your wrath was still there. Just the idea of her getting close to him was intolerable.

“She tried to convince me, she tried to get close to me but when I refused again she pushed me back and kissed me… in that exact moment you appeared”

You listened carefully.

“Y/n I would never do that you, never in my entire life I could disrespect you in a such horrible way. You are my everything. Your kiss heals my soul, you know it” Your eyes went wide.

“Yes, the song was for you” he smiled softly.

In a whisper, you broke the silence “Jaskier”

The sorrowful hint in his eyes spoke to you, you saw he was suffering for what happened and you didn’t want let that pompous countess ruin what you built together. Deep down in your heart you trusted Jaskier, his words were only the confirmation.

He seemed to read your mind because he moved closer to you and hugged you, firmly, steadily.

One of your hand went behind his neck, bringing him even closer to you as you enjoyed each other’s presence.

“I’m sorry” he said after few minutes, still wrapped around you.

“It’s ok” you smiled “I’m sorry, because tomorrow I’ll commit murder”

Jaskier burst out laughing breaking the hug.

“I love you” he said taking your hands in his.

“I love-”

Your head snapped to the side.

“Wha-”

“Shh” you raised your hand and listened carefully “Did you hear that?”

“No, what did you hear?” he asked confused as he began looking around. Then he heard them too.

Footsteps on the snow. But who could be wandering around during night time?

From behind a three appeared what you instantly recognized to be a bruxa. Fangs, sharp claws, dry blood around her mouth and neck, there was no doubt.

Fear clouded your minds, you were far from the city and had no weapons with you to at least try and defend yourselves.

“Y/n when I tell you, you run ok?” Jaskier protectively put himself in front of you.

There was no way you were leaving without him “I won’t let you here with that thing”

You didn’t know how, even thinking about it afterwards you couldn’t explain it to yourself. A bruxa is known to be fast moving, impossible to dodge almost, but somehow you managed to see her run forward, her claws open ready to strike on her preys.

Not him, you thought.

In one mighty movement you pushed Jaskier to the side taking the hit.

“Y/N!” he cried.

Your body was thrown against a three as you collapsed on the ground on your side. The bruxa then turned her head and looked at Jaskier with gluttony written on her gruesome face.

“You and I didn’t finish!” someone shouted.

Geralt.

He had drunk one of his potions, his eyes completely black, a feral expression as he glared at the creature.

The witcher sprinted, wielding his silver sword and began fighting with the vampire. His movement showed years of experience, his strikes deadly.

Jaskier took advantage of the moment and ran toward you.

___________________________________________________

Now you remembered. The bruxa. The hit. The screams. Everything.

Jaskier saw you pushing yourself to lay on your back as he approached. Dropping to his knees he saw one of his worst nightmares appear in front of him. The white candid color of the snow was now crimson, a horrible halo around your tired body.

“Gods” he breathed out.

That’s when his hands started shaking lightly in fear.

“What did you do? What did you do?” he asked repeatedly, his voice just above a whisper.

From the gash on your right side, blood was oozing profusely before Jaskier tried to put pressure on it.

The bard was wearing that blue doublet you liked so much, it was the exact same color of his eyes, now stained in that dreadful crimson color. You looked up to gaze into his red-rimmed eyes that were darting back and forth in worry. He noticed.

“Y/n you have to stay awake, can you do this for me?”

Geralt was still fighting behind you but Jaskier couldn’t care less.

“Jaskier” you breathed.

He lifted one hand from the wound to cup your face but stopped midair when he noticed the red stain on it.

“I’m here love, I’m here” and for the first time you saw him cry, his body shook with sobs, tears ran down freely.

With all your strength left, you reached out and placed your hand on his thigh “It’s...it’s ok”

“Hey no no no no no, you can’t do this to me, Y/n-Y/n!”

Gently, he lifted your upper body and wrapped his stron arm around your shoulders as you laid on his lap. A single hot tear ran down his eye and fell on your cheek.

Pressure, i need to stop the bleeding, he thought.

“We will get help, you’re going to be okay” he wasn’t sure if he was saying that to you or to himself “You’re going to be okay, just keep those beautiful eyes open ok?”

The fear of losing you forever, clouded his mind.

Your face journeyed from sadness to pain, the fabric Jaskier put on the gash couldn’t stop the bleeding “I-it hurts”

“Don’t look, don’t look keep your eyes on me, Geralt we have to go!” he shouted behind his shoulder.

The bruxa was injured, the fight was ending and the witcher was the winner, but Jaskier could feel your life slowly fading in his arms.

”Stay... stay with me” he cried, kissing your forehead.

It was unbearable. Cruel. Painful.

Destiny had brought you together and now it was tearing you apart.

TAG LIST:

@alyxkbrl @spencer-reid-in-a-pool

#jaskier x reader #jaskier fanfic #jaskier imagine #the witcher #the witcher imagine #the witcher fanfic #jaskier #dandelion #joey batey #geralt of rivia

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blackroseraven · 3 years

Text

You know, you really don’t have to engage with bad-faith arguments. You can just ignore them or make fun of them for being dumb.

I do try and respond in good faith to most things on first blush, but it’s easy enough to pick out when someone doesn’t want to actually listen to you, they just want to be listened to. There’s hundreds of tropes that you get used to seeing and identifying, like “free speech” and “do your own research.”

Free speech is incredibly important and the First Amendment is the first one for a reason: yes, yes, people say “but guns” and like I get why that’s so important to some people - and I’m not even being entirely mocking - but like, without freedom of speech, a free press, a right to assemble, the government just says “oh yeah we had to imprison Jerry for breaking the law” and like. No one’s going to know that Jerry wasn’t actually breaking the law. Oh sure, there’ll be rumors, but people like feeling safe and comfortable, and a lot more people will be happy reading and following the party line and believing that the government is only punishing the bad people rather than Jerry.

You might scoff at it but just look at how quickly people turn on someone that’s accused of a crime - especially crimes we find particularly repugnant as a society. Or in microcosm, how Jenny can show up with bruises and you know Peter’s always yelling at her but it’s probably nothing and she probably does something to deserve being yelled at, anyway, it’s not our business and we shouldn’t get involved, Jenny’s got friends to help her out anyway. “It’s not my problem.”

But freedom of speech doesn’t mean that telling you to shut up or why you’re wrong is censoring you. That’s answering speech with more speech. Likely, the First Amendment means the government doesn’t get to punish you for your speech; it doesn’t mean that you can’t get kicked off a platform for being an asshole. Unless you’re saying companies aren’t allowed to do whatever they want without government approval, that is, which is. You know. Communism or fascism or whatever today’s word de jour is.

A huge part of freedom of speech is the freedom other people have to respond to our speech - that’s “their” speech, it isn’t just a ME ONLY thing - and freedom of association means I can choose who I hang out with. Just because you really want to cling to me like a circa 2010 teenage girl to Justin Bieber doesn’t mean you can unless I allow you to. Telling you someone to “go away” doesn’t violate that. Blocking someone doesn’t violate that. Bragging about how “I never block anyone!” and “that snowflake blocked me” just makes you look desperate for attention and approval. I mean, if you don’t block, for example, a person who has made it their mission to send you goatse or worse every day, but you pride yourself in being sent that every single day, uh... what are you exactly getting out of that?

Actually maybe I don’t want to know, thanks.

Research is great; I write stuff, I research all the time. But research isn’t looking for an answer that suits you the most: research is asking a question, and looking for people with knowledge and expertise to assist you in finding an answer you can understand. Research is finding facts, not making an assertations and looking for pleasant lies that “prove” you correct.

We like to think of ourselves as logic-driven, but we’re often much more emotionally-driven and, in many unfortunate cases, “righteous” driven. Admiration or love for a person can make us overlook glaring character flaws. We develop particular worldviews that we absolutely do not like being challenged, and we assert that people we like or enjoy must be “like us,” and that means they can’t be cocaine-driven assholes, like James Woods.

James Woods was a fantastic Hades and is a great actor. He’s also a lunatic and a monster who hounded an anonymous commenter dying of cancer who was rude to him online with pointless but expensive lawsuits until the day he died, where he then celebrated “killing” the person who was rude to him.

These days especially, there is a lot of money to be made, and attention to be had, by creating alternate facts for people. Grift is not always obvious, especially when you set in motion a more long-term goal: what if I just recognize there’s a willing audience out there if I create some comforting pablum about how nothing bad is going to happen to you if you contract a certain virus, and then I monetize these videos? What if I create an asshole character for myself to play who does nothing but make the right people angry, and then I announce a tour to places that don’t want me, and fundraise when “my tour was cancelled by those snowflakes?”

It’s not always grift, of course. People who are prone to believing in conspiracies tend to be people who want to impose order on a chaotic world, often as a defensive mechanism. Combine this with the internet and the human need for socialization and reassurance, and things like believing that school massacres are false flag events make more sense. It eliminates the chaos from the world, the fear of pain or injury from some random, uncontrollable event, and creates an easy narrative that’s far simpler to digest. No one actually died: they were all actors, paid for by a shadow cabal, an evil, powerful, but tangible villain. People explain this to each other and it develops a mythos of its own of “theories,” and now you have friends who “understand” and that you feel connected to.

Sure, at first the fact the Deep State is everywhere seems like it would be terrifying. But think of the comfort! The Deep State is responsible for all evil, and if you could just defeat it, no one would ever suffer again. You lost your job? The Deep State saw you getting too close to the truth and is trying to distract you. If it wasn’t for the Deep State, you’d be rich, successful, happy, and independent, and there would be no wars, no partisan divide, and everyone would work together in harmony.

In other words, there is chaos in the world because the Deep State creates it, which ironically makes the world safer and structured.

Understandable.

And in today’s day and age, where you can “do your own research,” you’re now a soldier in the war against the Deep State. You can grow your community and reach out to people to try and get them to understand, and fight the Deep State with you! It’s exciting, isn’t it? Being a hero without ever having to leave the safety and sanctity of your own home. The protagonist of your very own adventure in real life.

A bizarre combination of magical thinking and delusion.

Okay, I’ve rambled and gone a bit off topic.

But the point is, like, you don’t have to engage these arguments. You don’t have to engage with magical thinkers, with trolls, with the willfully-deluded or anyone who doesn’t actually want to listen to what you have to say and just wants to proselytize to you about how they are correct and you are not.

You don’t have to “save” them, “help” them, or “correct” them if they don’t actually want any of these things, and you don’t have to debate or argue with someone just because they scream “debate me!” at you or sealion their way into a conversation or they goad you.

You can just ignore them or mock them or shrug. Online or, shockingly, offline as well. I mean, yes, I know. There are exceptions. People we can’t get away from, people we have to deal with or try and be nice to. That will eternally be a problem humanity will be faced with and it’s above my pay grade to solve.

But you don’t have to feel guilty or oblige strangers with more than a courtesy. Technically not even courtesy, but you know, I’m Canadian and all. And too many of us get dragged into pointless debates with people who thrive off abusing the social dynamics that are often trained into us from a young age.

The short version? People are dumb and often wrong. Save your time and effort for the people you actually value having in your life and who aren’t going to forget about you the moment they move on to their next target.

#politics

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alison-anonymous · 4 years

Text

flawsome bandits pt. 6 ♡ sonic

Flawsome Truth

THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS A FLASHBACK. It is set in the past, and you will now all get to understand why those awful cliffhangers were a necessary part of this story ;) Feel free to gawk in the comments section if you wish, but I have many more plans for this story! I think I’m going to even continue it on past the movie plot line too! I love you all my darlings, thank you for your patience. Next update might come a little slower due to the whole corona virus thing. Stay safe!

Warnings - Flufffffffff

♡♡♡

It was a beautiful day in another world, far, far away from the one we know.

The sun was shining high in the sky, smiling down on the exotic loop-de-loops, flora, and fauna. Critters fluttered about the land, most of them average and just going about their days. But if you looked very closely and kept your eyelids peeled, you could see an electric blue blur zipping through the fields. Behind the blur, not too far away from its tail, was another blur, only it was an icy blue color, just a pinch away from being white.

The two zipped throughout the island, and you could just barely hear a soft little tune coming from the electric ice blur as it raced after its friend.

Ah~, ah~. High and low, then high and low again. The song echoed softly over the hills, almost as if it were being intentionally silent, trying to suppress its full abilities of vocal range. The two balls of light zipped through the blades of grass, flying through loop-de-loops and racing past the echidnas until they finally burst through the door of a tiny little hit in the trees. They hit the very tall, very beautiful owl that had been sleeping on her perch with a start, and finally slowed down to a stop on the ground, revealing two hedgehogs. One was a bright electric blue with a set of the most dreamiest green eyes you had ever seen. He wore a pair of white gloves and some very worn out tennis shoes on his feet, an excited smile never leaving his face. His quills here spiky and brushed out of his face, but posed as a threat to anyone who got too close. The other one had a gorgeous icy blue coat on her. Her eyes were a bright e/c and her smile could make anyone fall in love. She had some of the softest quills anyone had ever seen, falling back onto her head in what any human would have mistaken as her hair. Two gold piercings were embedded on her left ear, and she sported the same pair of white gloves and a slightly smaller pair of shoes that the boy did.

They were very young, barely teenagers.

“Ha! I beat you again, N/n!” The blue hedgehog taunted, sauntering around in circles around his friend. She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, watching with close eyes as he walked around her.

“I’ll beat you one day, Sonic.” She spoke confidently.

The young Sonic stopped and stared at her for a moment. Eventually she grew uncomfortable under his stare, waiting for him to say something. Finally, he lowered his eyelids, a sly smirk crossing his lips. Her eyes widened. She was in trouble now.

“Oh, really?”

Y/n watched with fearful eyes as he advanced on her, like a cat stalking his prey. With every step he took, she took one back, her strong and confident facade crumbling until he finally sprang over to her. He grabbed her face surprisingly gently and pressed a kiss to her cheek. She let out a shriek, not being able to control the giggle that erupted from her as she pushed him away.

“Sonic!” She rubbed her cheek, attempting to get away from him but he was quick to grab her wrist, pulling her back into him where he kissed her other cheek again. She yelped again, both cheeks burning a bright red as his laughter filled the air.

“Stop it!” Y/n laughed. It wasn’t too long before Longclaw’s laughter mingled with theirs. The two young hedgehogs turned back to their mentor, not even noticing that they were still holding hands. The owl’s smile slowly fell and was replaced with a stern expression.

“You two need to be more careful, running around like that! What if someone had seen you?” She glanced from Sonic to Y/n. “Or heard you?”

“No one saw us,” Sonic dismissed. “And Y/n’s been working on keeping her vocal telekawhatever under wraps-”

“Telekinesis,” Y/n corrected, her pitchy voice sounded a bit congested. “But he’s right! I was barely even singing that loud! I’ve almost gotten to the point where I can hum and still have the same effect!” She smiled proudly. Longclaw had found Sonic and Y/n in two different places at two different times, both with their own set of insanely powerful and unique abilities. Sonic was born with incredible powers that granted him super speed in every aspect of his being that became supercharged with his emotions. Y/n was born with what Longclaw had identified as vocal telekinesis. She had abnormally strong vocal chords, so much so that whenever she sang, she could move whatever she focused on. So far they had only been able to help her carry herself as a booster in order to keep up with Sonic when she was running, but they had been able to get her to lift a flower or orange here and there.

“And besides, I wanted to bring you this,” Sonic shot the owl the most adorable smile you can imagine, whipping an exotic flower out from underneath his quills. A smile began to form under Longclaw’s beak as she leaned forward to take it. Something moved out of her peripheral vision.

“Get down!” She cried, leaping forward and sweeping the two hedgehogs into her wings, slamming the door shut with her back just as the echidna tribe shot at the door. Y/n and Sonic clutched on to one another in fear, Y/n burying her face inside of her friend’s chest in fear. He held her closer to his racing chest, glancing around frantically as the guilt began to set in. They had led them here. They weren’t careful enough. The one time that they weren’t cautious and were just trying to have a kind hearted race was the time that they got caught. Longclaw was quick to tuck the little hedgehog’s under her wing as she burst out the window, flying high up in the sky, determination set in her eyes to get her children away from the danger. Unfortunately, the echidnas had very good coordination, as they sank one of their arrows straight into her rib. She let out a cry in pain, crashing onto the ground, hidden behind some trees.

Y/n and Sonic tumbled out of her grasp, and once Sonic regained his balance, his first instinct was to grab onto Y/n. It was out of fear that if he wasn’t touching her that he might lose her to the ones that wanted their powers. Longclaw was quick to recover, ushering the two behind her as she pulled out a single bag with a handmade label on it reading “emergency.” Sonic and Y/n glanced worriedly at one another.

“Listen carefully you two,” she struggled for breath. “You both have powers unlike anything that I have ever seen. And that means that someone is always going to want them. The only way to stay safe is to stay hidden.” The two watched as she threw one of the golden rings, opening a portal to some strange, dark forest. Y/n’s heart began to race, tears beginning to form in her eyes as she realized just what exactly was going on here. “This land is far away from here, somewhere where you two will be safe. Stay with each other, combined you two will be safe.”

Sonic’s hand slowly found its way to Y/n’s, and this time she didn’t pull away. Longclaw handed the sack of rings to Sonic.

“But we don’t want to leave you!” He protested.

“You must-” Longclaw was interrupted by the sounds of yelling, the echidna tribe fresh on their trail. “If either of you are ever discovered, use one. Never stop running. Now go!” She used her wing to push the two towards the portal. With one last tearful glance at their foster mother, Sonic tugged Y/n with him through into the dark woods. They turned back just in time to see Longclaw spread her wings out before the echidnas, trying to protect them from view.

“Longclaw!” Y/n screamed, ripping her hand out of Sonic’s and racing towards the only mother she had ever known. Longclaw turned her head at the sound of the voice, a small smile lining her beak.

“Goodbye, Y/n.”

“NO!” She screamed, running into the portal just as it dissipated. She stumbled on her feet, crashing onto the ground. Sonic zipped over to his best friend and sat down on the ground next to her, the bag of rings still firmly grasped in his hand. His gaze met Y/n’s just as the dam broke and the tears began cascading down her face.

“H-hey,” Sonic stuttered, not being used to seeing her cry. She sobbed, tilting her head towards the ground as her body naturally leaned in towards him. At such a young age, neither of them were having a very easy time processing that they were now completely and entirely on their own.

They only had each other now.

Sonic’s own emerald eyes filled with tears as he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into his chest, hoping she couldn’t sense how much it was racing. “It’ll be okay… we’ll figure it out.”

Her sobbing slowed a little at his words, wrapping her own arms around his torso and giving him a hug. They stayed like that for a very long time...

♡♡♡

It had taken quite a while for Sonic and Y/n to grow accustomed to their new home. Since they were barely used to having to fend for themselves, even with Y/n’s competencies and Sonic’s ability to see the light in every situation, it wasn’t too long before they got discovered on the first planet Longclaw had sent them to. So, they went to another one.

And another one…

And… another one.

Until they finally came to a stop at the one they were on now. It was some sort of water based planet, where the grass was blue and the weeping willow trees were made of suspended particles of h2o. It wasn’t exactly the best planet for the two to be living on in order to practice their powers (they were growing with every year that passed), but they made do with what they had. The two hedgehogs were now around eleven years old, and they had already taught themselves how to build a shelter, how to find food, do chores, and ultimately protect themselves during the night. For the first couple of weeks, they had slept in shifts to keep an eye out for any predators that might come breaking down their wooden door.

Maybe it was some PTSD from the echidna attack, but Y/n was the one who always had a horrible time sleeping, so she took most of the shifts. Out of “lack of materials”, Sonic had convinced Y/n that it would be easier for them to just share a bed, plus it made more room in their home to live. It was a bit uneasy at first, the tension in the air so thick that even a knife would have a difficult time cutting it. They had laid awake, just staring at each other until Y/n finally began to giggle and rolled onto her back. He did the same and by the morning light, they were in a tangle of limbs and leaf-sewn blankets. It turned out that Sonic moved quite a lot in his sleep, so when Y/n woke up with his arms wrapped securely around her, it was quite the pleasant surprise.

Honestly, to any other person that could have met these two, they would have easily mistaken them as a couple. From the way that even though they were opposite genders, they were able to work so perfectly. They switched on and off with cooking or finding food that they would eat for the night, and they helped each other train by imitating things that Longclaw used to say to them. Sometimes it helped them feel like she was still there…

But besides the whole sleeping thing and spending all of their time together, the second Y/n asked Sonic for something or even was just about to suggest that they do something, he was always entirely on board. She didn’t even have to finish her sentence in order for him to be on board. She was all that he had, and he was all that she had.

Secretly, Sonic just could never find it in him to say no to her. With those gorgeous, dreamy eyes and bright smile, the way that her laugh made his heart melt, she was just so-

Nope. Nope, nope, nope. He wasn’t in love with her. There was no possible way!

She wasn’t like his sister, of course not! Y/n was more like… the insanely pretty girl that he lived with. God damnit.

Even though Y/n tried to convince herself of the exact same thing, she couldn’t help but notice that she felt differently about Sonic than anyone else she had met. No matter how many hours she spent with him, she never got tired of it. Things were always interesting whenever they were together because they both had a knack for the unusual adventures. He was always showering her with compliments (even when she tried to reciprocate he would always just turn up the heat), and he was just so sweet to her. He wasn’t too bad to look at either, if you get what I mean ;)

As time progressed, the two grew closer, their bond knitting tighter together with every day. They had made some enemies along the way, and those enemies taught them that not every person is as good as they may seem. So they tried to stick to themselves as much as they could. It took a very long time for them to get over Longclaw as well, each day being a little bit harder to get through once the memory floated across their brains. But they knew that as long as they had each other, they would be okay.

They could run for as long as they wanted to.

But at least they’d never be alone.

♡♡♡

It was a rainy day when something horrible happened.

Sonic was at home, goofing off as he listened to some music playing through a set of water speakers he had stolen from someone by the ocean. He was deep in the music, creating his own dance moves as he went along, bobbing his head to the beat. It was only when the door to their home burst open and a very frazzled looking Y/n slammed it shut that he turned off the speakers.

“Hey, N/n,” he greeted, but his happiness slowly faded as he realized she was trembling. The ice blue hedgehog hadn’t moved from her position by the door, gloved hand still placed firmly on the doorknob as her eyes peered through the slight curtain covering the window next to the door. Her tail quivered like crazy and she was staying a lot quieter than normal. Sonic took the opportunity to slowly approach his friend, concern filling his eyes.

“Are you okay?”

The second the words left his lips, she whirled around to face him and that was when he realized why she had been facing the door. She was crying.

Tears streamed endlessly down her cheeks, her nose turning a bright red. Her eyes had grown puffy, proving that she had been crying long before just now, the e/c irises full of guilt and pure sadness. Sonic could feel his heart breaking in his chest as he instantly wrapped his arms around her.

“H-hey, what’s going on?” He stuttered, running a hand along the back of her head, stroking her hair-like quills back. After so many years of comforting one another, they had learned tricks to instantly make each other calm down. The stroking had a decent effect on her, but she still trembled in his arms as she tried to force out a coherent sentence.

“I-I didn’t m-mean-I didn’t kn-know they-following m-me…” She choked on the extra saliva in her mouth and sniffled, burying her face into Sonic’s warm chest until she could hear the steady beat of his heart. It calmed her to know that he was still here. He was safe.

Sonic did his best to process what little he could understand that was coming out of her mouth. “Did someone follow you?” Y/n slowly nodded her head, more tears gushing down her cheeks as she pulled away just enough to look him in the eyes.

“I-I’m so sorry, S-Sonic-” She was cut off by another sob wracking up her pipes. Even if he wanted to, Sonic could never be mad at her. He held her tighter against his chest as he himself glanced through the window. His heart stopped in his chest as he saw something move.

“It’s okay, N/n, this is what we have the rings for, remember?” He glanced over at the bag sitting snugly under the covers on their bed. “Besides, this is your first time getting us caught out of my, what? Four times?” His joke was able to successfully get her to crack a smile, her tears beginning to slow down thankfully. They still kept a firm grip on one another as Sonic began to maneuver them towards the bed in order to get the rings. Once Sonic had finally grabbed the bag out from under the blankets, they let go of one another as he pulled out one of the shiny, golden rings. He held it up and thought of the next planet on their list and-

Suddenly, the door slammed open.

Y/n’s scream was so shrill it could have shattered glass, the fear coursing through their veins. The figure standing before them was dressed entirely in black, a hood pulled over their face so that neither of them could tell who or what they were looking at. A horrible aura floated through the room.

Something was very wrong.

Sonic’s first instinct was to jump in front of Y/n and protect her, so that’s exactly what he did. Zipping in front of her in less than a second, he gently pushed the frightened hedgehog behind him and prepared to throw the ring again.

“Leave us alone!” He yelled, closing his eyes as he envisioned the next planet they needed to go to. Y/n’s hand slowly entertwined with his, refusing to let him go, when the form before them started to… laugh. It wasn’t one of those lighthearted laughs either, it was one in which you knew something bad was coming. The two hedgehogs inched closer together, their hearts pounding rapidly against their chests, noses twitching and bodies trembling as the adrenaline coursed through their veins. The sudden sound from the intruder had been exactly what they had needed in order to distract the two.

Something sharp was pricked into the side of Sonic’s neck. He let out a sharp hiss and quickly pulled out a dart. “W-what?” He began, the room around him already growing fuzzy.

“Sonic!” Y/n cried, wrapping her arms around his waist in an effort to keep him standing. The serum within it was very fast acting, as he crashed down onto the floor before her, groaning. She kneeled down before him, refusing to leave his side, and shook him rapidly, the tears now coming down her cheeks faster. She was more than able to protect herself, but she needed to know he was okay. “Please, stay with m-”

A dart sank its teeth into her neck.

“N-no,” she stuttered, yanking the dart out of her neck and forcing herself to try and stay awake. Unfortunately, the poison coursing through her veins was stronger than her will. Her world went dark as she fell on top of Sonic, unconscious.

♡♡♡

When Y/n finally came to, she couldn’t see anything.

She couldn’t move either. It was almost as if something had taken away her ability to move from her brain, leaving her limbs lifeless against the cold surface she was lying down on, belly up. Her eyelids felt heavy, like a dozen quarters were resting on top of each eye in order to keep them closed. She was surprisingly calm given the certain situations, her pulse beating as steadily as it would if she were asleep. But she did feel rather drowsy… perhaps it was from whatever was in that dart…

Dart… where was Sonic?

The panic instantly began to rise, the need to open her eyes becoming almost unbearable to ignore. But she could still hear.

“Alright,” she heard a voice murmur. Her mouth remained shut, unable to move that, either. The voice didn’t sound like anyone she had ever known, and she couldn’t tell if its owner was a boy or a girl. “End… his happiness…” The voice seemed to be fading in and out, like whoever it was was walking towards her and then walking away, presumably to another table of sorts. But ending whose happiness? “This serum will make him forget about her entirely. It’ll be like she never even existed.”

A slight tapping noise against something floated through the air, making Y/n’s frantic panicking come back full force. No.. No way… they weren’t talking about her and Sonic were they? They were going to make Sonic forget about her? But why? Why would they do that? Sonic was the only person she had!

She couldn’t lose him!

Y/n tried with all her might to scream at the top of her lungs, to move her legs or even to just open her eyes but they were all futile. It was as though she were dead, her body as limp as a paperweight. Tears threatened to spill down her eyes as the feeling of helplessness suffocated her. The silence that continued on for countless moments made her want to die wondering what was going on. She could just picture it in her mind, her worst fear: Sonic being injected with some kind of serum to make him forget about her, and then being tossed into a portal to some realm that she didn’t know how to get to.

She’d never see him again.

Minutes turned into hours as they laid there in that torture, wanting nothing more than to feel Sonic’s arms wrap around her. To hear his voice, to feel his heart beat against her ears… She didn’t have a purpose without him.

Footsteps suddenly sounded through the tense silence. Y/n’s body tensed, which brought a celebratory light on in her mind that she was actually able to move a little. The footsteps came closer to her and stopped right next to her head.

“Ah, Y/n the Hedgehog…” the voice chuckled darkly, sending shivers down her spine. “I’m going to make your life miserable.”

Venom seethed from their tone, and without any warning, four needles dug themselves into her arms and legs. They pierced into the flesh so furiously that she screamed in pain, not even the sedatives she had been under being able to stop the primal instinct to such torture. Whatever liquid it was raced through her veins, spreading the white hot pain like wildfire. It felt like something was forcing her limbs to stretch and become much longer and larger than they were meant to be. Like growing pains, but set on fire. With gasoline. The pain seemed to go on for hours until the world turned dark once more. She finally released her breath in the blackness, relieved that the pain was finally over. A sudden bright light pierced through the darkness, and in her haze, she reached towards it. Blinking her eyes in order to adjust to the brightness, trees filled her vision.

“Honey? Sweetie, can you hear me?” A woman with yellow hair tied up in a bun was leaning over her, a worried look across her face. Her form twitched in and out of Y/n’s vision as she tried to focus on her.

“H-huh?” Was she standing up or sitting down? What was that smell? Who was this lady? Where was she? Wait a minute… What was her name?

“Sweetie, can you tell me your name?”

“I think… I think it’s Y/n?”

“Okay, we’re going to get you to a hospital.”

Hospital? What was a hospital?

...Who am I?

♡♡♡

It was a slow day for Doctor Robotnik. He had been considering going back to college for about a trillionth time in order to gain yet another degree in something that he hadn’t already accomplished. Which was nothing. Do they even give you degrees for studying nothing?

He was resting in his home when one of his bots hovered over to him, dropping down his mail onto the coffee table before him. The main glanced down at the junk mail littering the table, but stopped at a very peculiar looking package. It was about the size of a small throw pillow he had once seen in JoAnns (no comment on why he was there), and there was a small letter taped to the top. He cautiously proceeded to swipe the letter off and opened it. The contents were even more peculiar.

Dear Dr. Robotnik,

Inside this box are two vials for two beings. You must make sure that they never remember or find them. If they consume their contents, the whole plot will be lost.

It wasn’t signed. He furrowed his brows, wondering if one of his stalkers had sent him more men’s lingerie again. The letters tended to be very misleading. But, throwing caution to the wind, he opened the box and lifted the lid, staring down at the contents. There were two vials, just like the note had said. One was an ice blue with the title Y/n on it. The other was a dehydrated yellow, with the name Sonic written across the label. Y/n and Sonic… seemed pretty normal compared to other things he had witnessed.

And then the blue one started to sing.

♡ a.a.

#sonic #sonic x reader #sonic imagines #sonic the hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog x reader #sonic the hedgehog imagines #sonic the hedgehog movie #sonic the hedgehog movie x reader #sonic the hedgehog movie imagines #sonic the hedgehog movie 2020 #sonic the hedgehog movie 2020 x reader #sonic the hedgehog movie 2020 imagines #sonic the hedgehog 2020 x reader #sonic 2020 x reader #flawsome bandits

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gongju-juice · 4 years

Text

5. Once Upon a Southern Night

Crescent City

Warnings: Mentions of slavery and Confederacy

New Orleans. Hot and humid as home. Sister city to Mobile. Walking down the steamy streets, it smelled like spicy seasoning and margaritas—sounded like jazz beats and rushing crowds.

This year, Ash Wednesday fell incredibly late; March 10 to be exact. You never thought you would find yourself stumbling through New Orleans in the middle of Fat Tuesday—half-naked dancers screaming at your boyfriend from parade floats and indiscreet tourists flashing themselves as your family walked by. It was the most humiliating experience you ever felt, and all you could do is curse the Lost Cause soldiers who started the damn holiday in your home city in the first place.

The hospital was located smack in the middle of the old French Quarter where colonial buildings towered above the people, decorated in royal colored beads and winding lights. Nobody could drive the car through the crowd, so you had to get there by walking. You held your mom’s hand with your left, Jasper’s hand with your right.

“It’s never like this at home,” you explained to Jasper with a nervous laugh. “Did you know that the New Orleans mayor has to get permission from Mobile’s mayor every year to practice Mardi Gras?”

He looked down at you with his burning eyes. Since becoming aware of your family’s secret, he’d hardened himself to this emotionless being whose only concern was your safety. You were not allowed to leave his side, and when you had to go to the bathroom, he stood right outside the door like some long lost puppy.

“Something tells me they wouldn’t care whether or not they got permission anyway,” Emmett cackled. “New Orleans is wild.”

“Yeah, and you keep your eyes on the ground, sir,” Rosalie said, punching the side of his arm. The reverberating echo sounded like cracking glass.

The hospital was in very good shape on the outside despite being closed indefinitely for the past seventeen years. According to your mom, immediately after you were born, the place had been completely shut down and abandoned.

There were pictures of all kinds of historic events hung in antique gold frames on the walls: naval ships on fire at the Battle of Galveston, slaves picking fresh cotton on a South Carolinian plantation, Jefferson Davis’s inauguration in Montgomery, Alabama.

And in the middle of the lobby were a series of three grand portraits of Texas Majors. And at the end: Jasper Whitlock, Houston native, (1845-1863), died during a surprise Union attack in an evacuation order. There he was in his fine uniform, a cowboy hat over his honey curls. He looked so recognizable. . .so familiar in those white gloves—

He touched your side, and you looked around. The others were gone from sight, but you knew they could still hear everything where you were.

“If I could go back in time, if I could start all over again, I would do so in a heartbeat. I’m not proud of my past, Y/N. Not when I was human, nor when I changed. And I. . .I know I have no right to ask for your forgiveness but I—”

There was venom glistening in his eyes. Vampires couldn’t cry. It was one of the things Rosalie said she missed most about being a human. But looking at Jasper now, he looked like he was on the very verge of doing the possible. He fell to his knees.

“I’m so sorry for it all. I’m so sorry for what I did. I never. . .I never did some of the things my comrades did, but that doesn’t make me any less guilty. I still killed people. I killed people for the wrong reason, Y/N. I was a monster, and I can never wipe that blood off my ledger.”

You cradled his face in your hands. “We all have our past, Jas. You might’ve made mistakes, you might’ve done bad things, but you’re not the same person you used to be. It was a different time and era, and frankly, you growing from what you’ve suffered and experienced makes me love you even more.”

“But I was evil. There was evil in my heart, and I thought I was doing right. I convinced myself I was fighting for my neighbors—for my way of life. But the truth is, that way of life was wrong. Whether it was enslaving African Americans or newborns, I still felt all of their pain. It was so much, so much death and heartache,” he insisted, holding on to your wrists like they were the only thing they could hold him upright. “And I’m not worthy to be your man.”

“You damn right, you aren’t,” a feminine voice snapped behind you.

You turned around to face a black woman, just about her early twenties, menacing at Jasper by your side. She had a thick, kinky head of natural textured hair, and she was very well built—like she could run a marathon and beat everyone in the race. And her eyes were a mesmerizing shade of hazel that stood out against her skin.

“Who—who are you?” you asked, your voice trembling and barely above a whisper. The Cullens appeared from the shadows, surprised and slightly on edge that someone was in the hospital that they did not know about.

“My name used to be Ava Lafayette,” she explained, glancing you up down like you were nothing more than a roach. “We used to be—we are sisters.”

“How do I? I feel like we’ve met before.” Jasper touched his head, his fingernails digging into his skin like he was in severe pain. You hugged his waist, trying to comfort him but there wasn’t much you could do for the ailment of a vampire. Carlisle held him upright with his steady hands.

“That’s because we have, Major. You had a mission to gather all male, able-bodied volunteers from Mobile when you stumbled across the Lafayette plantation. I was a house slave of that household, of Preston Lafayette Sr.’s household. And he is also my father.”

You reeled back in horror. “So. . .does that mean? Preston Lafayette II is my brother???!”

She shook her head. “Nope, not this time. He’s my brother. Your father’s name was James. He was a full-blooded slave who lived on a neighboring plantation about thirty miles north.”

“But how is this possible?” your mother demanded, holding your arm. “She was born right here seventeen years ago. My husband and I adopted her. She was a baby!”

Ava glared at her, her eyes brightening inhumanely blue. “How are you skeletons still standing and breathing? It’s the work of the witches. The rule of supernatural order. Except in this case, Y/N is an exception.”

“. . .What?”

Ava suddenly waved her hand, and the air around you transformed into a place that was not the hospital. You were in the middle of a hot, blazing field, there were little black children running around carrying cracked buckets of water. Horses whinnied at the swarming flies, and poorly abused men and women sang in the fields.

“Massah completely forgot about Mama after I was born. About six years later when she had enough cloth to make her own wedding dress, she and James jumped the broom. You were born a couple of months later, right around the time Preston Jr. himself was born.

The two of you were inseparable. You played in the fields together when you weren’t in the Big House secretly learning lessons with Missus. He taught you how to ride his horse, Midnight, and you showed him how to gather berries by the river where the girls washed the laundry.

The two of you fell in love, and although you’d gotten much too old to be running around, Preston loved you to pieces. He begged Massah to let you in the house with all the fair-skinned servants. So, Massah took it one step further. He gave you to him for his nineteenth birthday.

The night of the party, however, Major Whitlock and some of his men came riding up to the front steps. They invited him in for dinner, and Preston had no choice but to join since his father was much too old to serve and he had no other male siblings.

He had to leave you behind, but not before finding out you were expecting’. It wasn’t uncommon for those kinds of things to happen back then, but it was still big news. Preston was devastated. He never believed in slavery anyhow, but he was afraid Missus would sell you if she knew about the baby. He was supposed to be getting married to Miss Abigail Mae Shepherd, and it would not be good news to hear about a half-negro baby in the plantation.

Unfortunately, Preston was right. While he was gone, Mama was furious. Missus had made arrangements for you to be sold up to a whore house in Charleston the next week. But see the thing about Mama—she was no ordinary slave. She was a witch who’d given up her magic in order to be with a human, James.

She sought help from her friends, but they would not help her. So, with no other choice, she decided to cast the forbidden spell.

She ignored the laws of time, erased your memories, and de-aged you in order to send you to the year (----), when you were ‘born.’ This hospital was never real, just an illusion that came with the spell. She intended for some human to adopt you so you could grow up as a normal child in the 21st century, but instead you were adopted by a white vampire.”

The illusion melted away, and once again you were in the dusty hospital.

“You don’t know the pain and suffering I went through while you were enjoying the amenities of the future. Mama, after breaking the most sacred forbidden spell of the witches, was sentenced to death by all of the North American clans. They allowed Missus to have her hanged, and then she turned her rage onto me.

I eventually ran to New Orleans to escape the Lafayettes and find the truth of our supernatural background. There, the witches accepted me, albeit begrudgingly, and taught me how to use my power. I knew I’d eventually find you, one year or another, but I didn’t expect it would take nearly two centuries to do so.”

Your heart was broken. Your whole life—as tragic as it was—was built with that man who was chasing after you now. He was the father to your unborn child, the child that would never be born. You’d grown up together, known each other inside and out. But you’d completely forgotten him and now he was coming back—and for what reason?

“So. . .witches. . .are they immortal?” Carlisle asked.

“Precisely—if they choose to enable their powers and stay that way. Only a witch can kill a witch. We witches created the first vampires in the world as a part of our Goddess’s order. The werewolves and shapeshifters and La Push were created some time before that as well.”

“But why is Preston trying to come for Y/N? I thought you said he was against slavery? If he really loves her, why didn’t he just tell her the whole truth in the first place?” Your mom demanded.

Ava's eyes turned back hazel, and a chair appeared behind her. “Because he wants to completely ruin Jasper. He blames Jasper for making him leave, and he blames Jasper for all the wars he fought with Maria in the South. And the little devil has allied herself with his cause, for no one wants to see him suffer more than she does.”

You felt Jasper tense beside you. None of this was his fault, he was just doing what he was ordered. But Preston was focusing all his energy on completely destroying your bond with him. Earlier, Jasper explained that you were his mate. Perhaps, this was a revenge plot?

“But why would he think I’d willingly fall into his arms like we’re still in love? It was over a century ago, and I don’t remember any of it!” you shouted.

“That man died in 1863 when he was turned. Since that day, he’s been stuck in the past—eternally bound to the promise to return back to you. No matter what you say, he’s always going to after you. That’s what he told his mother, and the next day she signed your papers.”

Jasper wrapped a protective arm around your middle. “That won’t happen. He won’t take her away from me. And as for Maria, I know her better than anyone else in this world. I’m not scared if it comes to a fight.”

“Why can’t I see anything anymore?” Alice cried. “And why can’t the witches help?”

“Because once a witch is aware of what they are, vampires can no longer turn them or use their gifts on them. Maria and Preston have also probably enlisted the help of witches or wolves to cover their tracks. And as for the witches. . .they have completely shunned Y/N from society. In fact, they’d probably be more willing to kill her than help, but because of me, they’re holding their preference of the law at bay.”

Edward, frustrated at the lack of his telepathic abilities, said, “So we’re going in blind, the witches won’t help—isn’t this a Volturi level threat?”

Ava sighed. “The Volturi is completely submissive to the witches. If they come near a witch family or steps within a mile radius of even the city of New Orleans, the entire vampire race will be completely wiped out. Sorry, but they won’t be much help in this fight.”

You pressed your hand to your chest, finding it suddenly hard to breathe. Immediately, Jasper caught you as you wobbled on your feet from the lack of oxygen. His scent comforted you, but you felt the distance between the two of you more than ever. At one point, you were pledged to another man; the same man after his life now.

“So what can we do?” your mother and Esme pleaded. “How can we save her? They’re bringing their newborn armies after us, the seven of us won’t be enough!”

Ava twirled a ball of light in her fingers thoughtfully. You realized that despite the fact she was biracial, she looked so similar to you. You shared the same round nose and shape of lips.

“I really hate you more than anything, if I’m being honest. Your mom favored you and sent you away, leaving me in the dust and without a mother in a time when I didn’t understand a bit of what magic was or that the supernatural even existed,” she admitted. “But you’re still my sister, and you’re the only family I’ve got left. I’m going to try to get some of my friends to come to our side, but that’s no guarantee. Sadly, Helen of Troy is still pinned for being the start of war.”

“And we have some friends of our own,” Carlisle said. “And we’ll try to convince the shapeshifters to help too. If we could lure them back to La Push, that would mean infringing on werewolf territory and it would give them no choice but to defend Y/N.”

Jasper held you tighter, and his eyes darkened. “I don’t care what I have to do. Preston has been sorely mistaken, and now we have an old score to settle. Y/N and I are in love now, and we always will be. What happened in 1863 will stay in 1863, and I will be the one to make sure that happens.”

You snuggled into his chest, closing your eyes. You prayed to God—the Goddess or whoever—that you and your family would end up okay. You prayed for the baby that was never born, the baby that was never loved, and you prayed for your biological mother’s tortured soul. But lastly, and more importantly, you prayed for Jasper.

Don’t you like watching Jasper ride his hOnSe??

Part Three Part Four

#jasper hale #jasper hale x reader #jasper hale imagines #Twilight #twilight imagines #cullen clan #edward cullen #carlisle cullen #alice cullen #emmett cullen #esme cullen #rosalie hale #i hate doing hastags #i like the honse

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ximcnadlc · 4 years

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*·˚ ༘♡ (cindy kimberly, cisfemale) have you seen ximena de la cruz? ximena is in her senior year. the arts management major is 23 years old & is a cancer. People say she is indulgent, vibrant, temperamental and distrustful. Rumors say they’re a member of calloway society. I heard from the gossip blog that she’s recovering from a cocaine addiction that she abused to keep herself thin.

hi everyone ! i’m marci and i’m super excited to present ximena to you all. i’m awful when it comes to writing intros so please bare with me lol. if you like what you read, feel free to like this post or message me so we can get to plotting !

stats !

FULL NAME ― ximena sofia de la cruz NICKNAMES ― xime BIRTHDATE ― june 25th, 1997 AGE ― twenty-three years old ZODIAC ― cancer GENDER ― cis female PRONOUNS ― she/her ORIENTATION ― repressed bisexual

background !

again i tried to write this up asap so it might suck absolute ass, but just ignore that and plot with me anyway :-) also drug and addiction tw

― so ximena and her twin brother were born in nyc, new york BUT were raised in a number of places ‘round the world due to their mother’s constant travel

― despite the twin’s father being permanently located in chicago, illinois they followed their mother wherever her modeling work took her because their father was too busy being the ceo of a conglomerate to take care of them properly

― this company is a longstanding business venture started by the twin’s great-great-great grandfather meaning the de la cruz family came from old money— at least on their father’s side

― their mother wasn’t a stranger to wealth as she earned it herself while working her way up to becoming a world renowned supermodel. considering her familiarity with the working class she made sure to keep the twins aware of their absurd wealth and privilege, which helped the two stay grounded (especially ximena)

— of the two, ximena’s older brother (by 15 minutes) was always their mother’s favorite child and is often referred to as the golden boy by ximena. unfortunately for her, their mother’s preference for her only son had always been clear due to the constant discrimination ximena received

— growing up, she was a fairly chubby girl who barely resembled her mother. her teeth were crooked, her clothes never fit right, she was awkward looking, shy, and not the natural beauty the public expected her mother to give birth to

— the constant criticism ximena received from the outside world never compared to that of which she heard from her own mother. their conversations never veered away from being told how to look, how to behave, what to eat, who to talk to… it was absolutely draining and despite eventually growing out of her ugly duckling phase (thanks to puberty) ximena never seemed to be good enough for her own mother

— this never-ending stream of disapproval really chipped away at ximena’s confidence. it became clear to her in high school that no matter what she’d do, her mother would always view her as a disappointment

— her revelation didn’t stop her from trying to gain her mother’s favor though. she continuously watched what she ate and worked out more than normal, which lead to a mental and physical exhaustion that ximena couldn’t stand anymore. so instead, she looked to ways that would help her maintain the slim figure her mother constantly harassed her about and quickly found that cocaine was the easiest way to go about it

— at first, she only did it recreationally with some friends, but eventually she saw the benefits it had on suppressing her appetite and it encouraged her growing addiction to the harmful drug. the peak of her dependency happened her freshman year at yates when she was found in some bathroom breathing uncontrollably at the brink of an overdose

— after this incident, her parents sent her to rehab immediately and forced her to opt out of her sophomore year at yates so that she could get a handle on her addiction

— it has now been three years since the incident and although she’s been clean since, her mother’s criticism has only grown worse. ximena only hopes that she can manage to keep her past addiction under wraps if not for her family’s sake than for her own

tl;dr — ximena is a wealthy socialite twin with an extremely critical mother. she’s criticized to the point of acquiring a cocaine addiction to keep up with her mother’s insane beauty standards

extras !

— with a last name like de la cruz i just imagine them all speaking spanish especially with each other and especially bc their mother is actually from spain so, FLUENT SHE IS. i also imagine her with a cute lil accent because of it

— ximena is a total daddy’s girl and absolutely adores him despite not seeing him as often as her mom. in fact, when her addiction became known to the family, he was the one who constantly checked in on her to make sure his little princess was doing okay

— her relationship with her brother is a little rocky due to difference in treatment they received from their mother. she loves him, but can’t help feeling resentful as he got the love and praise from the one person she swears hates her guts

— her parents definitely paid off the person who found ximena in the bathroom and made them sign an nda to keep the accident under wraps. her dad may love her unconditionally, but at the end of the day a scandal like hers could negatively impact the family company and that’s just a huge no-no

— personality wise ximena is a sweet girl who just wants to feel appreciated and loved. she won’t go out of her way to make sure everyone likes her, but will try her best to be kind and accepting of everyone. however, at times she can be a bit erratic because of the cocaine’s lasting effects on her. so if you catch her in one of her moods, she’s sorry lol

— mommy issues call for her repressing the attraction she has towards women in authoritarian positions. be mean to her and she might just get ~secretly~ turned on by it

— during her time in rehab, ximena turned her focus towards her art and used it to distract herself from the withdrawal symptoms she often struggled with. she’s hoping that after yates she can pursue her dream of opening her getting her art displayed at museums and possibly opening her own art gallery

connections !

i usually write out more than this, but again i’m RUSHINGGGG

— ok so again someone who got paid off by her parents to keep hush hush about the accident in the bathroom. maybe they hold it over her head to get more money or maybe they try to make sure she’s actually ok ?? idk you tell me what you like

— she’s an ARTISTE so be her muse !! there’s something about y/c that intrigues ximena and she just constantly finds them sketching/paintaing/doodling her all over everything

— ahaha obviously need a girl that helps her explore her sexuality and attraction towards women. maybe it started off as a drunk one night stand and ximena tries to deny it ever happening but y/c is like “sike ! that shit happened and it was niiiiiiice”

— she. needs. friends. whether they’re just acquaintances or attached at the hip, she needs them !

— someone she has a huge crush on !! maybe they know and tease her about it, or they don’t and are oblivious to her advances. they could reciprocate or not, whatever you think fits

— possibly a second ex ?? they met at yates and maybe used each other for something idk

— also enemies. maybe they’re rivals within their major or bc of the societies thing or maybe they’re in the same society and they just dislike each other for some reason

— literally anything !! i want to plot with everyone !!

#yatesintro #❝ ✰ ―― 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 // i n t r o d u c t i o n .#drug tw #addiction tw #just skip to bottom of background for the super short summary of whats up with her #and if youd like to plot shoot me a message or like this and ill go to youuuuu!!

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worryinglyinnocent · 4 years

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Fic: Dead Man Walking (7/?)

Summary: Prime Ministers don’t normally wake up in morgues after they’ve been murdered, but that’s exactly what Robert Sutherland has just done. Right in front of Lacey’s nose. With limited resources and not knowing who to trust, Sutherland and Lacey must work together to get to the bottom of the attempted assassination.

Based loosely on this dream I had.

Rated: T, eventually E.

Note: This is meant to be ‘darkly humorous and amusing mystery’ rather than ‘gripping political thriller’…

[One] [Two] [Three] [Four] [Five] [Six] [AO3]

===

Dead Man Walking

Seven

Sutherland had a problem.

Well, that wasn’t strictly true. He had several problems, and most of them were related to the fact that the Head of the Civil Service had tried to kill him and had very nearly succeeded. However, those problems were so large and far-reaching, and Sutherland had so very little idea of how to solve them, that he’d had to put them to the side for the sake of his own sanity.

Carrie was dealing with those problems by going to Chequers and collecting what evidence she could against Spencer. Sutherland had no idea what kind of evidence he was hoping that she would find there, but with any luck, she’d go through Spencer’s luggage and find a bottle marked with a skull and crossbones and a folder containing a detailed, ten-step plan for assassinating the Prime Minister.

With those problems put away until Carrie got back – there wasn’t really much else that Sutherland could do about the situation since he was still supposed to be dead – he was focussing on the one problem, still tangentially related to the myriad other problems, that he did have control over.

That problem was Lacey French, and now that he thought about it, Sutherland wasn’t sure that he had any control over this problem either. The two of them had been thrust into each other’s worlds by a twist of fate that no one in their right mind could have foreseen, and now they were stuck with each other.

Not that Sutherland minded being stuck with Lacey. Far from it, and therein lay the problem. Out of all the things that politicians could do that were inappropriate, finding a young woman at least twenty, if not more, years his junior, who had just saved his life, attractive, was probably up there on the list.

Sutherland ran his hands through his hair with a groan. This was not the time, nor the place, and whilst he wanted to think about something, anything to take his mind off whatever shenanigans Carrie was performing and whatever trouble she might be getting into on his behalf, he really didn’t want his thoughts to be turned in Lacey’s direction. She was just a good Samaritan who had helped him out because it was the right thing to do. She’d had no obligation to rescue him, and she certainly had no obligation to stay with him now that he was safe. (Although, having seen Maddie de Ville’s drinking habits, he wasn’t entirely sure that safe was the right word for her company.)

The fact remained, though, that Lacey was still here, determined to see this rollercoaster through to the bitter end, no matter what that might be. As worried as he was for Carrie and what she might be getting herself into, Sutherland knew Carrie, and he knew that she would always have his back through thick and thin. Considering that Lacey’s father was the pathologist who’d been about to cut him open, Sutherland was certain that Lacey was already in some kind of trouble, and he really didn’t want her or her family to suffer any repercussions as a result of her kindness. He could only hope that by the end of all this, when the world was put back to rights, he would be able to get everything sorted out with no ill effects.

He pushed Lacey firmly to the back of his mind and looked around the room that Mrs de Ville had shown him to. It was a small and neat guest room, no sign of any personality in it, and he wondered if he was the first person to use it. He had to admire how easily Mrs de Ville had taken to having them all camped out in her home, as if taking in a dead Prime Minister was an everyday occurrence.

He rolled his head, trying to get the cricks out of his neck. He wasn’t sure how long he had been lying on the autopsy table for, but it had done a number on his back. Perhaps a shower would help. Mrs de Ville had dug out some of her late husband’s clothes for him, and whilst they weren’t exactly his style, anything was better than hospital scrubs.

Mrs de Ville was more than happy to provide towels and soap when asked, and standing under the hot spray, Sutherland felt the tension beginning to ease out of his shoulders and spine. He couldn’t deny that he was beginning to get too old for adventures like this. Well, it wasn’t really an adventure so much as a nerve-wracking nightmare that he still wasn’t entirely sure was real. Lacey probably thought that it was more of an adventure, with the way that she had taken everything in her stride. The thought of his age brought him back full circle and he cursed, annoyed with himself for ending up with Lacey on his mind again.

He pushed her firmly to the side again and rinsed off the soap suds. As much as he wanted to, he knew that he couldn’t stay in the shower forever, and he shut off the water with a sigh, trying to pull his thoughts away from everything that had happened tonight and onto the pressing problems that had brought him down to Chequers for meetings in the first place. Just because he was technically dead didn’t mean that he couldn’t still do his job.

Unfortunately for Sutherland, his resolve not to think about Lacey was utterly shattered when he came out of the bathroom and almost bumped headlong into her on the landing. They both froze, and Sutherland watched as Lacey’s eyes took him in from head to toe and back again. Technically, she’d seen him wearing less than a towel, but right now, he felt far more exposed than he had done in the morgue. Perhaps because, back in the morgue, he’d been more concerned with the fact he’d just come back from the dead, and a random young woman seeing him naked was of secondary importance.

Now, Lacey was very much his primary concern and he was standing here like a lemon in front of her in just a towel, and was that an expression of appreciation on her face?

He decided not to hang around trying to analyse the situation any longer and bolted back into his room, shutting the door firmly behind him and leaning back against it with a groan. It was almost as if fate had it in for him and was determined to keep reminding him of Lacey’s existence and the fact he was really beginning to like her more than he should, until he could deny it no longer.

Maybe, a small, optimistic part of him said, accepting it wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Maybe Lacey was feeling the same way. She didn’t seem too horrified by what she had seen, at least.

He shook the unhelpful thought away, but he couldn’t stop it from coming back in idle moments as he dried off and put on the provided shirt and trousers.

Lacey was back in the living room by the time Sutherland returned there, and he couldn’t decide whether he was glad about that or not. On the one hand, it was still rather embarrassing to face her after everything else that had happened – and that seemed to keep happening – throughout the night, but on the other hand, his only other option for company was Maddie de Ville and he didn’t really know how he felt about spending any amount of time in conversation with her. It was clear where Carrie got most of her quirks from, but a lifetime of dealing with politicians had sharpened Carrie’s most eccentric edges. Her mother was the very definition of a cloudcuckoolander.

Lacey looked up as he came in. She was curled up in one of the armchairs, and for the first time that night, she was looking as worn down as Sutherland felt himself.

“Hey,” she said. “It’s good to see you wearing proper clothes again.”

Sutherland sighed. “Yes, let’s not dwell on that.”

Lacey just chuckled. “Hey, you’ve got nothing to worry about from my point of view. You might be the Prime Minister, but I think you can still get it.”

“Great.” He wasn’t sure what to make of that. He’d just spent the last twenty minutes trying to push all thoughts of Lacey and his growing attraction to her to the back of his mind, but if he didn’t know better, he’d think that she was perhaps showing some degree of attraction back towards him. Maybe this was just her way, familiar and teasing in the same way that Carrie was. There was a lot about Lacey that reminded him of Carrie when he thought about it. No-nonsense, calm under pressure, a tough exterior that softened when her guard was down. Like now, with exhaustion creeping in around the edges.

“How are you feeling?” she asked. It was a genuine question, not just a nicety asked for the sake of it.

“Much better, thank you. The headache’s all but gone now.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

Of course, how he was feeling physically in himself had nothing on what he was feeling emotionally. As much as he was trying to put a brave face on it and take it in his stride, Sutherland couldn’t help but feel scared. He was the Prime Minister; he had an entire crack security team around him at all times and yet someone had still tried to kill him and had very nearly succeeded. There was something in the idea of keeping one’s friends close and one’s enemies closer that didn’t seem to bring him all that much comfort. He’d never seen eye to eye with Sir Albert ever since he’d taken up residence in Downing Street, but he’d never have thought that the Head of the Civil Service was capable of murder.

A shudder ran down his spine at the chilling thought that Sir Albert might not have been working alone. Sutherland knew he was a man with many enemies, but ones that were willing to kill were a completely different matter altogether.

“Are you ok?” Lacey was looking at him with her head on one side, a concerned expression on her face.

Sutherland nodded, then shook his head.

“I’m very aware of my own mortality right now,” he said. “And dealing with the terrible thought that apart from you and Carrie, I have no idea who I can trust in my life anymore.”

“I’m sorry. That must suck.” Lacey stifled a yawn behind her hand. “I guess we don’t really think about the psychological consequences of surviving an assassination. We assume that you’re just happy to be alive…”

“I’m very happy to be alive,” Sutherland said quickly. “Please don’t misunderstand that.”

“No, I know you are. But being happy to be alive doesn’t stop the wondering what might have been, or wondering why, or wondering where you’ll be safe.” She shrugged. “We don’t really get much into psychology in the forensic chemistry field, but it comes into all areas of criminology eventually.”

Sutherland shook his head. “I’d rather not talk about it. Not until Carrie comes back with some kind of evidence at least. Right now, I feel nice and safe here with you, so I’d rather not think about the things that are making me distinctly nervous.”

“You feel safe with me?” There was a moment of soft wonder in Lacey’s expression, before her carefree grin returned. “I think that’s the first time someone’s ever said that.”

“Well, it’s true.”

There was silence for a long time, Lacey staring out across the driveway as she digested what he’d just said. Finally, she looked back at him with a grin.

“All right. If you don’t want to talk about what’s going on tonight, we could have that discussion about student loan forgiveness if you want.”

Sutherland took the chair opposite her, although from the way Lacey was going, he didn’t think that the discussion would last all that long. She seemed to be flagging rapidly now, even if Sutherland himself was feeling very awake and would likely stay that way until he saw Carrie back safe and sound.

He had to admit, despite steeling himself for a fight, Lacey’s points were well thought out and backed up. She was getting very much into her element and had she not been on the verge of dropping off every time she finished speaking, he had no doubt that she’d be killing it on the debating floor. She spoke with a great deal of passion, and it was clear that she would have argued about anything she stood for with just the same fervour. It was refreshing to hear, and even though she was arguing against his own point of view, Sutherland enjoyed listening to her.

Soon, though, the inevitable moment happened, and Lacey succumbed to tiredness, curling in on herself in her chair, hair falling into her face. Sutherland took the throw blanket from the back of her chair and tucked it in around her, sitting back on his heels with a sigh.

He was going to have to admit that he was definitely developing more than a little crush on Lacey.

#rumbelle fic #sutheracey #Robert Sutherland #Lacey French #Fic: Dead Man Walking

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tonystarkbingo · 4 years

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Tony Stark Bingo Prompt Meme

So, we did another Prompt Meme game, and came up with these summaries based on a three-tag prompt. This is an open prompt, if any of these summaries look like fun to you, please feel free to write them!! Tag us or the writer of the prompt when you do so we can all see how cool you are and what you’ve given us for the promot

@summerpipedream - Winteriron - All Tony wanted to do after finishing up at MIT was to pack up his desk at Stark Industries and quietly fade into obscurity. Sure money was tight, but he never expected Jan to actually sign him up for one of those social media reality shows. Now, he was stuck in a house, with no phone, no internet, or access to the outside world, trying to avoid the sexy Bucky Barnes, who's mission in life seemed to be to never wear a shirt around him.

@darthbloodorange - The world is ending, an alien race has all but taken over the world, it is an apocalypse of devastating proportions, most of the world is dead. The Avengers, those who are left, have retreated to a bunker built a fourth of the way down into the Earth’s core. Tony and Steve have been growing closer, when they are not working together to find a way to fight back against the aliens, they are fuck buddies. Tony’s a genius, he knows the odd of surviving this are not in their favour. Odds were that they were going to die… and well, Tony doesn’t want to die without letting Steve know how he feels. Before the battle Tony corners Steve in the armoury and confesses that he loves him. Steve is aromatic, has been since project rebirth. They are both so very sorry.

@newnewyorker93 - After a series of strange killings where the victims are found set up kneeling like they're praying, Tony Stark (a private detective) is on the case. An initial (false) suspect is the local priest, Matt Murdoch, who ends up being a helpful ally in solving the case (and possibly more)

@27dragons - Winteriron: You'd think that Tony Stark would have learned to ski when he was growing up. You'd think wrong; Howard never saw the point in it. So here he is, almost done with his PhD, and his friends have decided on a spring break trip to go skiing. He doesn't want to admit to them that he doesn't know how, so their first night at the lodge, he offers one of the ski instructors a large sum of money to sneak him up onto the slopes for a few lessons that night. Against his better judgment -- but desperately needing the cash -- Ski instructor Bucky Barnes takes Tony up on the slopes. Unfortunately, just as Tony's starting to get the hang of things, it starts snowing. Hard. Even more unfortunately, the newfallen snow disguises a patch of ice and Tony tumbles out of control. By the time Bucky catches up to him and verifies that he's not badly hurt, the snow is coming down too hard to see the lodge -- so what else are they to do but seek shelter in a caretaker's cabin conveniently (TM) nearby and wait for morning...?

@gavilansblog - Tony is kidnapped as part of an Evil Plot (TM). He's handling things just fine, tyvm, until his would-be rescuer (who he's been pining for, obviously), gets dragged in and handcuffed back to back with him. Seriously, dude? If you insist on breaking the kidnapping procedure at least actually rescue me! The taxes come in when the Evil Plot Master does his monologue and reveals that the kidnapping is part of a Villain Logic scheme to get Stark Industries to throw money behind the campaign to get a new law requiring actually taxing billionaires to fail. Evil Plot Master is, naturally, a billionaire. Tony would facepalm if he weren't handcuffed to his idiot rescuer, seriously. And then the kidnapping protocol kicks in and Jarvis shuts the whole facility down only instead of being handcuffed by himself Tony is now handcuffed to his rescuer so they have to do the whole escaping part of the plan while handcuffed together, resulting is the standard Tension (TM) moments and possibly an almost-kiss.

Fey Relay - Bruce, Tony, and Peter, resident science geeks, get de-aged and really want to play in the lab. You know, the one that has lots of things that can kill them in it? But they're still sort of mentally in there, just cranky and smol. So they get assigned their own Non-Science Adults who they hand-hold and point to do their sciency bidding. Thor, Steve, and Natasha oblige them and have great fun!

@rise-up-ting-ting-like-glitter Dragons were real. Okay they were actually just souped-up dinosaurs, but that didn’t mean Tony wasn’t being hunted—with intent—by lizards. He hadn’t wanted to come to this stupid Island in the first place. SI funding had explicitly been removed from the crackpot idea to return dinosaurs to the food chain. He could have told everyone that this was going to happen. Instead he was climbing through a jungle with a one-armed man who refused to give his name and if they didn’t get to the raptor enclave, retrieve the anti-venom, and return in time, people Tony loved were going to die.

His guide had better live up to his scruffy wild-man appearance or Tony was going to lose everything.

@somesortofitalianroast - Nurse Bucky Barnes wasn’t sure what exactly was going on. The vigilante known as Nomad had just crashed through the (luckily) open fire escape window. While he was lucky not to have any broken bones, he was unlucky enough to have a bad concussion. A really bad one. One that meant he couldn’t fall asleep. Also unfortunately, he only had the one bed and the enormous Nomad wouldn’t fit on his couch, so they’d have to share. It was only after he helped Nomad into his bed that he noticed the blood, and, unthinking, he pulled the cowl off to check for another, serious injury. And gasped. Nomad was Steve Rogers, his best friend in school, who’d died in an IED attack in Iraq 5 years earlier.

@polizwrites Natasha Romanov and Virginia Potts are the proprietors of Chaykus - a Russian tea room on the seedy side of town. Its new mission is to be a sanctuary for women who have been smuggled into the country for sex trafficking purposes. As for the men who engage in such practices? Well, they are quickly discovering that their days are numbered.

@dixiehellcat - Pepper is the manager of the heavy metal band War Machine. James Rhodes, lead guitarist and founder of the band, is looking for a new lead singer. He did not expect the woo-loving Virginia to get horoscopes cast for the applicants and decide based on that. He just wants somebody who can sing, dammit. This Stark kid is uncomfortably attractive, yeah, but he's been thrown out of two bands already. what? the shower sex? it was only that one time after a show, and they were both wasted...

@dracusfyre Tony was born without a soul mark. Bucky's was lost forever when Hydra took his arm. Without the universe to give you a hint that this person is The One, falling in love is gambling with your heart. But soulmates don't have to be born, they can be made - and Bucky and Tony decide that the same should be true of soul marks, as well

@ceealaina Tony was like nerd prime growing up. Normally he doesn’t let it bother him too much — he’s got inventions to invent, after all. But all of a sudden he realizes that he’s almost 20, he’s got two degrees under his belt, and has no idea how to do much more than kiss. He’s not entirely sure how he manages to convince Rhodey to sleep with him to “get it out of the way,” or how he manages to convince him to keep sleeping with him to “help improve my technique,” but it’s the best sex of his life (not that he has much to compare it to) and he never wants it to end. But it’s the night when they’re watching movies, and Tony’s ends up dozing against Rhodey’s shoulder only to wake up to a feather light kiss against his forehead that he realizes he might be in trouble.

@thudworm - King Anthony considers it part of his royal duties to protect his people by going out and taking care of any monsters harassing them. Of course, no one can know that the knight Iron Man is really the king, which leads to some fun assumptions about Iron Man’s identity.

@jacarandabanyan Tony’s mom forbid him to purposefully drive out his roommates so that he can have a room all to himself where he can tinker until morning light. She had to hear about it from friends, acquaintances, and other well-known socialites often enough when Tony went to boarding school and ran his roommates off there. Now that he’s in college, that behavior must stop. Luckily for Tony, he doesn’t even have to try to get the first two roommates at MIT to request a room switch. But then he meets his third roommate- a tall, handsome, funny man named James Rhodes. At first it was just natural joy at having a fellow competent engineer to hang out with, and perhaps the occasional dirty thought. But his crush on the man quickly grows. Before he knows it, Tony’s pining hard for his best friend. Every once in a while he thinks Rhodey might be interested too- but then he hears Rhodey lecturing a computer science senior for plying Tony with :beer: alcohol at a party because “come on, man, kid’s only 16. Have a little class and try chasing skirts a little closer to your age.” After that, he’s convinced Rhodey will only ever see him as a friend and a kid.

psychiccatpanda - Tony works hard and puts in long hours. So what if some of his long nights turn into very early mornings at CHew 2 OH. The only drawback is his business partner and head baker, Steve, with his disappointed looks and his continual arguing. When Steve's friend Bucky starts hanging around the shop, though, Tony notices. Oh lord, he notices. A month or so later, one night when he and Steve are working after hours at Steve's place to plan their seasonal menu, Steve tells him that he's noticed him checking out Bucky. Tony hits him with a decorative pillow and things kind of get out of hand. Surveying the damage (let's face it - Steve's coffee table was never going to be quite right again), Steve turns to him, "I was just going to suggest you get some practice kissing before asking him out." Oh. Oh...

@tisfan So... the problem with being a necromancer is being able to practice one's skill. The local cemeteries won't even let you look at a dead body if you're not a relative. Tony Stark, budding necromancer, forges a marriage certificate for the John Doe so that he can practice his craft. Only to find that it works perfectly. Bucky is No Longer Dead, and 100% interested in staying married...

@abrighterdarkness He didn’t mean to snoop. He knew that wasn’t what he was being paid for here--the loud laughter of the party echoing from down the hall where he was actually supposed to be, was clear enough reminder of that fact. All Tony wanted was two short minutes to breathe without being pawed at--yes, yes, that might be his job but breathing room was much appreciated just the same--and now he was stuck in this closet sized bathroom with what sounded like a mob-hit being discuss right outside the door. He knew he should’ve turned this job down.

magica - Howard Stark had an idea. Some people - alright, most people, stop hitting me, Maria! - would say it was a terrible idea. But it was only a little injection of stuff based on that strange glowing blue cube they'd found in the Arctic. And Tony was absolutely willing, let's get that straight, Maria! How was Howard supposed to know that it'd enable Tony to open up his own portals? And if some mystical green energy happened to swamp Tony just as he was opening a portal to Egypt? Well, that wasn't his fault. The dark-haired, well-built Priest of Anubis that Tony manages to bring back with him? That is not his fault either, damn it, Maria!

@festiveferret - Tony could say with absolute confidence - at least, if he could say anything at all in his current predicament - that this was not the way his PR rep, Pepper, would have wanted him to come out. There were, he figured, several hundred ways that the day could have gone better, but if asked to rank the top three, he'd put them thusly:

1) That he decided to come out by having a wild, unabashed make out session with none other than Captain America, in the middle of a busy New York street.

2) That it was, in fact, the morning after their first "date" - a term he was applying loosely here - and not a tasteful reveal of a long-standing, safe, secure, adult relationship.

And 3) That at some point between the first floor lobby of his apartment building and the front door off his penthouse suite he'd suddenly, unexpectedly, and so-far permanently been turned into a ferret and no one knew.

It would also probably concern her to discover that of all these rather bewildering turns in his life, the one at the forefront of his mind was that ferrets couldn't send morning-after texts, and he didn't want Steve to think their little dalliance had been nothing more than an - albeit unfortunately public - one night stand.

Of one thing he was sure, however: Pepper was going to need a raise.

#tonystarkbingo2020 #bingo party #prompt meme

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