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chocolate1721 · 5 years ago

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Hello chocolatiers here is a new idea, and this is one of my altime favorites so far.

Ok so, Marinette and Jason are siblings who got separated. Jason is adopted by Bruce and Marinette is adopted by Tom and Sabine. Jason becomes Robin and dies. Marinette is informed of his death but isn’t able/allowed to attend the funeral. She never meets Bruce. Marinette is bullied by Chloe and then Lila and the class. She becomes ladybug and chat is useless.

Even though things in class are tough. Marinette makes a fabulous class trip. She has them set to go to New York (with tours of Stark Industries, and New York Times along with Broadway production tickets), then they are to go to Starling City (where they get to tour Queen industry, and their parks), next they go to Central City (they have some basic tours of some museums and stuff), finally they will end in Gotham (tour Wayne Enterprise and the gardens).

Marinette had a good time in New York, Lila lies all day every day, but she ignored it. They had a fligh to Starling City and Marinette had to use the restroom or something before they left, but when she got back to the gate the plane was gone, and so was her class. She had no clothes (those were on the plane) and she didn’t have a lot of money. She was having a hard time breathing when all of a sudden Tony f*cking Stark struts his way over to her and helps her breath again (couldn’t decide if she has a panic or anxiety attack).

Tony and Peter were coming back from Wakanda. Peter knoticed Marinette and points her out to Tony, making some joke of if she is a lost Stark or something. Tony looks at Marinette and immediately knows she is having an attack, he knows how that feels, so he immediately goes over to her and helps her through it. He finds out that Marinette got left behind by her class and this pisses Tony off. He then tells her he can/will help her out. All three of them then head to the Avenger’s Tower.

[[More]]

She meets the Avengers, and she is totally normal. No stuttering, spasming, tripping, or anything but treating them like they are normal. This intrigues the Avengers. They invite her to watch some of them train while Tony looks into getting her back to her class. While she watches them train she ends up handing Steve his shield (like it was a piece of paper), and Thor his hammer (like it was nothing), this shocks everyone.

Steve: Hey Thor, does this mean this kid is now the new ruler of Asgard?

Thor: . . . . . I must introduce her to the Allfather. Come child of earth.

Tony: *runs into the room, body slamming the door on his way in* DONT GO WITH HIM!!!!!!! IM ADOPTING HER!

Pepper: *appears from nowhere* no you’re not

Peter and Marinette become close friends. The hulk also meets Marinette. The team is worried, but Hulk just kinda picks her up and says “Baby” and tries to burp her. . . . . . . . Tony gets plenty of pictures of this. Marinette is a grumpy sunshine child, and she threatens Tony and Peter if they post any of those pictures.

Tony tells Marinette that he has a friend in town that lives in Starling City and he has agreed to take her with him when he returns home. Marinette will be getting picked up in a few hours, so Tony, Peter, Steve, Thor, and Pepper take Marinette out to get some clothes. This ends in chaos, mayhem, emotional trauma, and the Avengers learn how truly terrifying teenager girls are. Pepper is now wanting to adopt Marinette.

Later that evening Oliver Queen and Roy Harper show up at Avenger tower to pick Marinette up. Roy thinks she will be like all the other girls he knows, shallow and a gold digger or a super hero. He isn’t prepared for the absolute angel that is Marinette. He is love struck, and he becomes the gentleman that Oliver has tried to teach him to be. The only thing Oliver is thinking is “did Bruce get another one?”

Marinette and Roy hit it off very well (roynette is endgame people) they talk for hours. They exchange numbers. Oliver finds out that no, she isn’t adopted by Bruce <not yet anyway>. But she was born in Gotham, she had an older brother who died when she was younger. Oliver found out she is MDC and immediately wanted to commission a suit. She agreed and they were talking suit styles and colors until they arrived in front of her hotel in Starling City. They told her not to hesitate if she needed anything.

Her class didn’t even knotice she was missing. She got her room key and went to sleep. The next morning she was the first one up and downstairs. The breakfast pasteries were gross so she went to the kitchen and taught the staff how to make a good crossaint. She was putting a fresh batch out in the buffet area when her classmates arrived. Lila pauses when she saw her. How had Marinette gotten here? She made sure to destroy her plane ticket. Anyway Lila lies the entire trip as well. She convinces Max to hack into Marinette’s phone and change her alarms. On the day they head to Central City, Marinette’s alarm goes off 30 minutes after the bus leaves.

Marinette sighs and calls Roy. Roy is pissed that her teacher left her behind AGAIN. So he calls up Barry Alan (I watch the Flash tv show so those are the characters I will be using). Roy tells him about how the teacher is incompetent and left a student behind. Roy arrives to pick Marinette up, only to see two guys hitting on her. Roy stops that sh*t real quick. Then they head to Central City. They swing by Star Labs and Marinette meets Barry and his friends. They fall in love with Marinette. She is sweet and kind and adorable. Barry sees her as an innocent sister who must be protected. They take her to her class. He convinced the chief to let the class come visit the precinct. Lila is taking credit for everything, while Marinette gives out pasteries that she made at Star Labs. The officers love Marinette, especially Joe. He sees his daughter in Marinette. Some of the officers offered to teach the class some self defense, in case they were in trouble, and they refused to say how scared they were when Marinette took them down. It was way too easy for her to take them down. The tall kid with frosted tips didn’t do half as well as she did. Roy and Barry only seen that level of skill on hero’s or black belts. Lila started gushing about how she trained with some famous martial artist but had to stop due to her arthritis. The class got held hostage by Captain Cold. Marinette distracts him long enough for the hostages to escape, and the police and hero’s to arrive. She talked about everything from how he could make more money by hiring himself out as a ice machine to people in third world countries to his lack of fashion. By the time the hero’s arrived she was redesigning his entire wardrobe. He was just confused. The officers that arrived on the scene recognized Marinette and were horrified that her class left her in the hands of a criminal. Marinette just brushed it off as no big deal, she was used to it. This had them in near tears. The Flash helped her get back to the hotel. Barry was freaking pissed, so he took a couple pictures with Marinette, took her to get ice cream, and then took her back to her hotel; all before the class arrived.

When the class did arrive at the hotel they started accusing Marinette of working with Cold, but then they saw the Flash. Alya immediately started interviewing him. Only for him to snatch her phone out of her hand and delete the video. She wasnt happy about that, but Barry didn’t care. He stalked over to Bustier and started tearing her apart for abandoning a student. He then went to the police chief and let him know what happened.

Joe finds out what happened and knows that the class’s next stop is Gotham. He calls an old friend, Gordon, and tells him what’s going on and to keep an eye out for Marinette. Gordon agreed but doesn’t think that any teacher can be that stupid.

He is proven wrong when he goes to greet the class only to find that Bustier left Marinette behind. Gordon is dumbfounded, then furious when she said that Marinette can handle herself. Gordon then calls for a manhunt for this child. 15 minutes later he gets a call from Bruce that he has Marinette in his custody. He has permission from her parents to take care of her while she is in Gotham. Gordon starts compiling evidence of criminal neglect to send to the French Board of Education.

Roy was woken up to a call from Marinette. She got left behind again. He calls his friend Jason and tells him about what’s going on and if it’s ok if he stays with him until Marinette goes back to France. Jason,doesn’t know this is his sister, says yes. Roy and Marinette become an official couple on the way to Gotham. Bruce is trying to get everything ready for a non hero to come to their house, even if only for a few hours.

What no one expected was, when Alfred led them into the house. For Marinette and Jason to lock eyes, and for Mari to body check Jason. They also didn’t expect for Marinette and Jason to start crying, or for them to be siblings. Marinette slapped Jason a few times for making her think he died.

Roy pales when he realizes that Jason is her brother. Jason is furious at Roy for dating his sister. Marinette tried to keep her brother from killing her boyfriend, which is a struggle. She tells Bruce what happened with her class and he excused himself to go call her parents and inform them of what has happened. They give him permission to take care of their daughter while she is in Gotham. He also sets up future visits for Marinette to come to Gotham.

While Bruce is away, Damian arrives, sees a new dark haired minor, and immediately concludes his father has adopted another. He then proceeds to attack her, but Marinette takes a sword from a nearby knight and parries him. She barley keeps him at bay, when he realizes that she has some very basic knowledge of swordsmanship. He stops attacking her and starts teaching her. Thus an impenetrable sibling bond has formed. She cookes with Alfred. Dick teaches her how to trapieze. She gives Tim her illegal coffee recipe. Her and Jason talk for hours.

She also finds the Batcave. Only because she went to the library and tried getting a book, that happened to be the hidden enterance. She chews Bruce out for not dealing with the Joker in time to save her brother. She was just letting out her frustrations and everyone knew it. She met Louis and Clark, who she pulled to the side and told him to find a better disguise because it is obvious he is superman. She pats his shoulder and walks away. Louis slips Bruce $10.

Bruce invites the class to the Wayne Gala and provides clothes for them to wear. Marinette refuses the offer and makes her own dress. She also makes gifts for the Batfam.

Marinette is finally able to see Lila’s lies fall apart, at the Gala, and she refuses to forgive the class. What they did is not something that she can get over that easily. All of the abuse, the lack of loyalty, the manipulation, and demand for her time, energy, and supplies to give them what they want. She. Is. Done. She burned those bridges.

When the class is heading back to Paris their notifications go off. They are getting tagged in pictures of Marinette with the Avengers, Oliver Queen and Roy Harper, of the Central City Police force, with the Flash, with the Wayne’s, and Louis and Clark. They were shocked. How could Marinette get the opportunity to meet all of these people when she was with them the entire time. That’s when they realized, she wasn’t with them. The only time they remember seeing her is when they were on tours or she suddenly appeared in the places they were heading to. She was never with them when they left.

#maribat prompt #big bro jasonette #roynette #roynette is endgame #mlb x dc au #mlb x avengers au #mlb x avengers #class salt #lila salt #alya salt #adrien salt #bustier salt #caline bustier salt #the police have marinette’s back #she is the only one who is capable to take over the world

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robin-the-enby · 4 years ago

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Hey! I love your matchups and I really want one with on the black butler characters.

I am ISTJ and even though I was born in America I come from a Mexican family. So I am fluent in Spanish and English. Along side of Mandarin Chinese (still learning) and Japanese (still learning)

Appearance wise, I have olive skin, long wavy/curly hair that reaches my tailbone (i like putting it in side braid). I also have long bangs that quite often fall over my glasses. And just too lazy to move them. I also have dimples when I smile. I will bite anyone who try poke them.

Personality: I can get hard to know at first because I have trust issues (my heart has been broken okay) . Not too mention people don't try to get know me because of my major Resting Bitch Face. They think I am judging them or that I am scary. But I am not... I am attentive so I will stand up for myself and anyones else. I am patient. Also, after you get to know me you will realize I am a chaotic crackhead with a melodramatic persona. Like "your star is here!" "The stage is calling for me. Move out of my way" "the spotlight is on me so could you move you crusty face?" I like to tease and flirt with the people I am close to. I zone out or daydream a lot. And in the worst times. It could be a serious meeting and I am chuckling because of something in my head. Which have scared people. It could be during a conversation and I will stop listening. But I will always feel bad and apologize.

I also like to scare people. Like tell them the unsolved cases or horrific cases that I know (I love unsolved cases) . This is also why my little siblings hate me. Turns out talking kids murder cases and disapperinv cases was not appropriate for bed time story... woops.....

I like to pop out of nowhere and either flick or playfully punch my friends and say boo. I do accidentally roast people. I don't think before I say things. And don't realize until hours or days later. And I am like "shit"

I am sarcastic and that has gotten me in trouble before. My friend asked for my advice and I didn't know she was being serious. So I gave her a sarcastic advice and she came back to me mad. I was like "shit you believed me?"

Likes/hobbies: i like my anatomy class and I like to read, write, meditate (because I get stressed a lot). I really like to dance and listen to music. Which my music taste is everywhere: Kpop, classical music, jazz, jpop, Spanish songs, rock, metal. Every music genre except for country. I like to play the violin.

My passion lies in the arts and crafts. I would like to do illustration and photography. More specifically street fashion photography and and event photography. Like weddings and funerals. Yes funeral photography does exist and I will like to do it. Since it is also special event. I draw a lot of portraits and landscapes. I have been told that my art is either scary or mysterious. Though I can get a little caught up with my passion. I practice to get better with no rest.

Flaws/toxic traits: I am not empathetic or sympathetic. People always thought I didn't care about my friend's issues. I do i just don't understand them. My compassion does make up for this and will give advice. My other flaw, is the high walls I build to protect myself. I am there for other people. But people were never there for me. People have manupliated me and that cause me trust issues. I don't know how to handle negative emotions like depression, anxiety, self doubt, procrastination. So I just isolate myself in these moods. They really take a toll on me and make me think I can't do my passions. I am afraid of commitment because of toxic relationships i had before.

Love language: I am not obvious with affection. (Because no one ever gave me it). I show it through my teasing and flirting. My love language is however Act of Service. I will help my s/o with anything they need. Chores, work, advice, etc. Sort of the mom of my friend group. But a Savage mom as I have been told. "Stop crying, here I made you a cookie" "do I need to hurt someone" "don't worry I can get coffin with a lock in it". I am also an aggressive supporter. Like "No YOU are beautiful. YOU are gorgeous!" (This happened when someone gives me affection and time try to turn the attention to them as way to hide my fluster)

I will call my s/o like "stupid" "idiot" but in a endearing way. Okay. Occasionally I will use "beloved" and "Cariño/cariña"

I am not good receiving verbal affection or physical affection. I was never given affection so I am not used to it. I will start blushing and stop working. I will also probably say "idiot" or turn the attention to them like "no.. u" but I think fails because I am terrible at hiding my blush. I get easily flustered with affection okay. But I won't ever admit that I like it. Though it is obvious.

Sexuality: i am bisexual so it doesn't matter what gender I am paired up with.

Funt fact i guess?: I love small plants, plushies, and banana milk. Like I have hundreds of different kinds of plants and they each have their own name. Like GGmo, Lily, Melody, Edward. I love Banana milk as I said. I drink it every evening. It always get me happy so when I am sad or had a bad day. I drink banana milk and I am happy. It is also to make up for my coffee addiction. I am addicted to coffee. My friends said no coffee and I was like fine banana milk then :)

This is getting long now... bye.

I'm glad that you like my matchups, I'm trying my best tbh😅 I match you with:

Sebastian Michaelis

Sebastian is very curious in nature, so he definitely wants to know what you're really like, not the front you put on.

He's also very charming when he wants to, he makes it very easy to open up to him and get comfortable around him.

Sure, he, as a demon, doesn't really care much for humans, so when he doesn't have to play the polite, kind butler, he probably has a RBF as well, however, I think that changes when he's interacting with someone he loves.

His sweet words may have been a mask at first, so he could see the real you, but the closer you two become, the more he means every word of praise, encouragment or comfort he utters.

He would most certainly be amused by your crackhead self once you do get comfortable around him, but it's not really his vibe. He wouldn't scold you for being loud, brash or inapropriate, like he does the other servants.

If he's in a really good mood or when the situation calls for it, he can be dramatic as well. Sometimes he'd do it just to get on Ciel's nerves XD

One big pro of being with Sebastian is that he lets you off the hook a lot. If he was talking to anyone else and they'd space out, oh honey, he would stare them down so hard, it's sending chills down my spine just thinking about it. But if it's you it's like a complete 180, Sebastian can't possibly be mad at you, everyone spaces out sometimes, those things just happen.

The other servants make sure to be on your good side so that you could intercede with him on their behalf.

You can't scare him with your true crime stories, but you sure as hell can scare the others. And you can bet your ass Seb's gonna help! The plan is: You tell the story and then he's gonna pop up out of nowhere behind them, giving them mini heart attacks.

If you try to scare him though, you'll need to be on guard 24/7 until he gets you in return. And even if your on guard all the time, he finds a way to scare the life out of you.

Your humor is practically the same, I mean, Sebastian is great at off handed remarks/roasts and sarcastic comments that you have to look for to really see them. You two could be talking shit about anyone and everybody would be like "Oh yeah, normal conversation, yes"

Sebastian would love to dance with you. And trust me when I say this, he is good at any type of dance. If you two are ever at a ball, prepare your feet, because he's not gonna let go of you the whole night (unless his master is in danger of course).

He would be your #1 supporter, he'd go with you out to take photos, and if you asked him to look at some, he'd take a good long look at each and every one of them and describe in detail how he feels about them. Also would go to any art shows you'd host if it came to it.

When it comes to sympathy and empathy, Sebastian also has a hard time showing these feelings. He's been alive for far longer than any human on Earth and he's a demon. He's never had any of the problems humans have, so naturally he doesn't kniw what it feels like to have them. Plus, before you came into his life, he didn't care much for them either.

However, he's gonna be there for you whenever you need him, emotionally or practically, even though he doesn't get your feelings.

You both have walls put up, you because of bad past experiences, him because as a demon, he has major issues with being vulnerable in any way. And I'm not talking just emotionally here, but demons are almost undestroyable, yet they have very few weaknesses that they just need to hide away.

It's rare Sebastian has a problem, but even if he had, you wouldn't know, because he thinks you, as a human, wouldn't understand and so he won't burden your mind with it. However, he's very perceptive and so if your behaviour changes, be it due to anxiety or a depressive episode, he'll know.

Now, he's not the type of person to try and break down your walls by force, but in situstions like these, where he's not sure how to help, you gotta talk to him and he won't leave you alone until you tell him how he can help.

He's not above carrying you around and doing everything for you until you're embarassed enough to tell him

He is very appreciative of your help around, since the other servants are good at everything but what they're supposed to do.

You with your tough love and Sebastian with his teeth rotting compliments and affection, it'd be honestly really funny to watch. He adores how you show affection, because it's different from most people he's known. But on the other hand, you can't expect him not to spoil you afte all the hard work you do every day?

He would really shower you in love and affection, because you deserve it and because it makes you flustered XD

#black butler #kuroshitsuji #black butler matchups #matchups #requests open #black butler x reader #black butler x y/n #sebastian michaelis #sebastian michaelis x reader #sebastian michaelis x y/n

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othersideoftheparadise · 4 years ago

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Tampered [3/?]

Sam Wilson x cis fem! reader

Warnings: Spoilers for TFAWS. Mentions of blood, alcohol poisoning, graphic mentions of violence. This is the first time I'm ever writing something like this, so I'm open to constructive criticism.

Word count: 4.3 k ish.

Read Part 1 and Part 2 here.

2000

Dull pain thrummed between your eyes as the butt of the gun connected your forehead, almost making your vision black. It felt like needles pricking the skin all at once. You had to finish the mission. Your recovered, maintaining your balance back again, ignoring the pulsing pain, gripping the knife tucked in behind the belt, you dodged the punch aimed at your gut. You kicked your feet off the wall behind, as the boost gave you enough height to strike down the enemy, slashing his neck open right by the artery. Killing the very last attacker in the room. He slumps down with a thud, with blood splaying everywhere.

As the adrenaline rush wearied off, you were hungry now rather than being nervous about your mission. It was your duty to clear off the path for the Soldat and always look behind his back, just in case. More like a worm pierced onto the fishing hook for fishing. It was more like being assigned to be a bait for clearing the path.

You had to report back to the assigned rendezvous point, as you were told to be, but hunger made your ears ring. You did not have time to dwell upon in the middle of the mission, but the sweet aroma of freshly baked, warm bread and the sight of a boy around your age licking his fingers as he gobbled down plum pie definitely wanted you to think twice. Searing waves of hunger pangs hit, subconsciously leading your feet towards the boy. Hearing another set of footsteps approaching, you tried to shimmy behind the garbage bin behind, only to be yanked out by the man you never wanted to deal with.

The Soldat.

He looked down at you with his eyes reflecting no expression behind the mask. He dragged you by your hand as you protested.

“Let me go!” you trashed in, kicking and grunting against his firm grip.

‘Салдат, принеси с собой цечку, немедленно.,’ You heard the voice on the other side through the earpiece.

“N-No, No, I don’t want to go, it is so dark and p—please.” Blood was rushing to your head all at once, pulsing every beat. You didn’t want to go back. You wanted to stall as the feeling of fear overwhelmed sank into the gut.

Confusion was written all over his face; you could sense his hesitation. Previous mission with the Soldat ended up with him screaming for minutes in pain and agony when he had disobeyed. The people in the base never threatened but always made sure that you were present during the electroconvulsive therapy and when he was kept in cryo till the next session.

Shifting weight from one leg to another, your heart lurched, and your stomach tugged as you were closer to the destination. He was bruised and was limping by the time he had found you, but now he was straight up rigid, listening to the command. You remembered his gut-wrenching screams piercing in, and he took you back to the rendezvous point before the cleaning crew showed up.

“I’m sorry. I was just fascinated by this. I don’t know what to call it, but this part seems to be important. Who is Nakajima?” where he was pressing all the wrong buttons. Zemo was one of those only men; you were eager to know what was going on in his head.

Here he was playing the role of sugar-daddy, prodding over. What was more important was how Bucky never told you that your neighbour Nakajima was one of the people on the list of his amends. It was on you that you had expected him to tell you; he had no obligation that he had to.

“If you touch that again, I’ll kill you.” Bucky let-go of Zemo’s neck.

Sam visibly tensed up, looking at them, “I’m sorry. I understand that list of names. People you’ve wronged as the Winter Soldier.”

So, this was the reason why he wanted to move in.

Part of you was disappointed, but you had no right to have expectations. It was his own decision, and you had to respect it.

On the other hand, it was Zemo. It made you wondering for a while about how he was able to sit in the same room as you did. He should be angry, angry for rotting in prison after avenging his family’s death. This guy was surely a good spy and was very skilled; this was another reason you had to keep an eye on him.

Zemo devised a plan, laying out different people to meet in and around, starting from Madripoor. The city that had loose laws hence had better leverage for things to go according to him.

“It’s kept its lawless ways. But we cannot exactly walk in as ourselves. James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone.” Zemo let Bucky know.

“That is not going to work.”, this plan was going to fail; Bucky can become the Winter Soldier but cannot act like one.

“And why would you say that?” his interest piqued. He obviously knew this better than anyone else. If this was one of his mind-games to rile you up, it was not happening anymore.

“Well, it was something that he was conditioned to do in his subconscious. Not in his real-time. He does not know to pretend like one.”

“Alas, we do not have a better plan, do we?” he replied back.

Knives, Check.

Guns, Check.

You found yourself scrolling aimlessly through the local television, making sure that your eyes did not skitter over to the suit that was draped over him, fitting neat and tight.

Holy fucking shit.

You had to physically make sure that you were not watching him, straining your vision onto the screen. He looked like a mafia drug lord. You knew that you would be floored if he had opted to wear the shirt with his sleeves rolled up. You wanted to have more of the Sambal and rice that was served in the morning. The appetite had appeared out of nowhere.

“Alright, I’ll be leaving now. Ping me when you’re done with your business or in case of an emergency. I’ll be looking over from the second floor, from the lodge opposite to the pub.” Part of you did not trust Zemo, but you were sure that Sam and Bucky would be able to handle themselves.

Mentally slapped yourself, ignoring the looks thrown at you. All of this would be over for once and all if the plan had worked out, and you would tell Sam that you would be leaving.

Putting the food on the plate you waited, you made sure that table was all set up before Sam came back from his jog. Things were awkward, to say the least, and tiring as well. You couldn’t care less about how people showed false compassion at Nat’s funeral, making you roll your eyes. One thing that always made you regret that you did not have anything that belonged to Nat other than her memories. Everything had burned down once Bruce snapped, even before the team could comprehend her death. It was so unfair that everything that belonged to her had been destroyed, wiping out her entire existence as if she had never existed in the first place.

Another headache was pulsing in, beating in the hollow space with every heartbeat. You heard the door slam shut, reminding you that Sam had indeed returned from the run. Here you were, preparing breakfast, soaking in the domesticity in the world where she was already forgotten. She deserved to live, live a good life after all of this with Steve. Sunlight shimmying into the house made it look like the future that you had always wanted. This was too good to be true; the team was still recovering from the loss.

Sam and you both were still managing to barely keep the relationship tied together as the honeymoon phase after the blip had ended. The real world was settling in. You had seen him struggling to set into the new world, where people had moved on without him. You tried your best to ignore it because it always ended with ‘let me handle it’ ending the conversation.

“Hey, are you listening to me?”, He asked digging in, looking over for a response. “I said that the food is delicious. It is terrific.”, He reassured after seeing you cock an eyebrow.

“I appreciate it, Sammy.”, you smiled, remembering how Nat opened up to you saying that she always wanted a family with Steve, wanted a life, a life that you were living now.

“Hey, look at me.”, he hooked your chin with his finger, lifting up. “Thinking about her is not going to bring her back alright, but you can talk to me. I’m right here. It is okay, not to be okay.”, He looked at you with all sincerity that he could muster.

All you wanted was to scoff, scoff at how he was always ready to help others but dealt with his problems all by himself.

“They were supposed to get married!”, This was when the heaviness in chest grew heavy. He was physically taken back by the new information. Maybe he didn’t know about it yet.

Shit.

“And really, Sammy? I could say the same to you. I get it, alright. I get it that we both are going through a tough phase, but I have wanted to say the same to you. All you say is ‘I can do this and shut me out.” You emphasize with your fingers, seeing his tense shoulders.

“You are so careful around me all the time that you physically look like you’re embracing yourself for shit to collapse.”, This was it; you had been waiting for weeks to say this. You saw his jaw tick with all the tension that he had been gritting in and holding back.

“N-no, No, I don’t want to go in there. Do you understand? I get what you are trying to say, but it is just that I need some time to open up about everything. The world did not wait for anyone and has been running even in all those five years.”, He said, pointing at the window.

“I need some time, m’kay? I need some time to adjust to all of this.”, He was ambiguous.

“This is how our relationship is, Sammy. We don’t talk. This-this is why you are always on alert mode whenever you are with me because you think you have to keep reasoning every time anything happens. Y-You also think that you’re better off without telling anyone about your problems.”, Emphasising the conversation, you sat looking dead in his eyes. This flared anger in him, flickering like a spark staring out a fire.

“Why does every conversation we have, has to end up about our relationship? And no, you’re wrong this time; it is not that I don’t want to talk to you about it. It is just that I need some time.”, He reasoned, trying to explain, taking deep breaths.

You both had arguments almost every single day. It was emotionally exhausting. You could not imagine what he must be going through now that everything had resumed.

“This is what I am talking about. We both have grown out of this relationship, and we have different opinions, which is absolutely fine.”, He was positive, scrapping the chair away. “But I need a break; I need a break from all of this. It is just that you and I are dealing with different things, and I’m tired of explaining this to you every time.”, He said with certainty.

It really did take some time for his words to sink in, but he was crystal clear. He approached you, instantly regretting his words.

“You’re right, Sam.”, You stared aimlessly, getting up.

“H-Hey, I did not mean it.”, his voice dropped, lacing with sadness, looking at you.

“Stay there and sit down; this is your house.”, you emphasized, motioning him. He looked distraught as seriousness stetted in.

“No, Wilson. I understand; you are right. We need a break, and this is not working out because we both need time. I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I was selfish and insensitive about what you are going through right now.”, Sighing you carried yourself to pack up, ignoring the headache pounding in. He didn’t deserve any of it. He deserved someone better than this.

“It is just that I’m not in the right headspace right now. I’m sorry.” You repeated again, walking out. You were too afraid to think how different life would have been if the snap had never happened. Simultaneously, you imagined how Nat would have cussed you back and forth for ruining your relationship.

“Hey James, do you have a spare room to crash in for few days?”, You whispered into the phone, hearing the beep sound.

Before you knew, you saw Zemo, Sam, and Bucky scrambling around, confused. You sighed, loading your gun, firing off people who were attacking them right away. Another line of fire came out of the window beside yours, halting immediately after the attackers were down.

What the hell?

“Wow, look at you all dressed down to take out the bad guys.”, you had sensed her but not this close. Maybe you were getting slow.

You looked up at the women, who had saved Steve and Sam back in the day. To be honest, you had forgotten about her and knew why she was ignorant about the whole situation, “I know why you’re all bitter. I’m sorry that we did not come back.”, you signified, raising up for hands, surrendering.

“Oh please, there is a difference. It is always easy for people like you to say ‘sorry’ not knowing what someone else had to go through.”, Sharon scoffed, pointing the gun.

You were also curious about what she was going to do further, as she pressed the gun to for back, guiding you to lead the way. The whole situation turned around when Sharon agreed to help in for the next lead.

Sam looked far by uncomfortable as he tugged his collar out for more air. He was sweltering down as he reached the condo.

“What’s wrong, Sam?”, You asked as he looked like he was going to collapse, unable to walk. He huffed, struggling to take out the phone that was buzzing in his pant pocket.

“Wait, let me take it out for you.”, You knew that something was wrong, but you did not want to use your powers to find out without his consent. You heard his breath hitch as you moved closer to him.

This was definitely weird.

“Just do it soon.”, His voice turned hoarse, gritting his teeth. He visibly shivered as you skimmed your fingers into the pocket to take out his phone. It was Sarah. You saw his eyes glistening as he grabbed his phone, walking straight into the room, shutting the door with a loud bang.

You almost heard Bucky snort, making you sharply turn around in his direction. What had happened down there, pushing Sam into a situation like this?

“Bucky, what did you do?” you marched as Sharon huffed, settling down to look at the show you all were putting up.

“I-I didn’t do anything. It was not me, okay.”, He stammered, with his eyes wide. He was practically pressing himself into the sofa.

“It was wine. The snake wine he drank.”, Zemo quipped in, shifting your attention.

“What? What on the fresh hell is a snake wine?” you were bewildered, to say in the least.

You heard, Oh-s and Aah-s, as Sharon spoke up, “Snake wine is assumed to be an aphrodisiac and is believed to make people strong.”, She said, gesturing at her biceps.

“It is a what?!”

“Hey, calm down, listen to me; I’ll arrange someone to buy sex toys with lots of food and hydration. It can go on for hours, but who knows.”, She nodded looking at you.

“Okay”

“No wonder he couldn’t run in those heels.”, Bucky muttered, looking around, shifting around.

You all discussed your next lead that was tipped off in the bar, hearing Sam throw up. This was not a good sign.

“Bucky, please hand me over the medicine kit. I’ll take care of him.”, You rushed in, locking the door.

The whole room was a mess, with everything strewn all over the place. The acrid smell of vomit filled in your lungs as you saw a tired Sam collapsed on the floor.

Oh my god.

“Sammy, hey, look at me.”, you were trying to shake him into consciousness. His eyes were rimmed red as he looked at you. Wiping him down with a warm washcloth, you could feel pain rattle his lungs, and somehow, it had only become worse.

“Come on, Sammy.”, You helped him lay down on the bed, ignoring his burning skin. You knew what you had to do; he was just at the brink of passing out and threw up almost everything you tried to make him drink.

This was not a good sign; with the mind racing with endless possibilities, you did not want to be terrified. You had seen what death was, but looking at Sam right now, did make you remember when he was dusted away during the snap. Living through all the madness, running from one place to another, it was Sam who made you feel human.

“Sam, do you trust me?”, You knew that this was not entirely consensual, but he was only a human after all.

“I—I do. I do.”, he was dazed by all the alcohol and the dehydration.

Removing the wristwatch, you concentrated on the energy from the center, carmine red flickers spasmed through your palms. Pressing them to his warm chest, you imagined him healing from inside as you felt the energy radiating off his body.

He had visibly calmed down, looking down at you. “Is this how you saved Pietro?.,” He looked at you incredulously.

“What?” you were the one staring back in shock, moving away.

Oh no.

“Don’t worry, Wanda accidentally slipped when she was talking about Ultron, but I didn’t know you it was going to be something like this.”, he huffed. The furrow of his eyebrow explained for itself. He did not push it further as he got up to clean the mess, not looking back.

“Sam, I can explain,” “No Y/N, you don’t have to. You don’t owe one.”, He said, not looking up.

“Talk to me Sam, I know that look on your face. You’re angry.”, You tried talking to him, rushing on your feet, closer to him.

“I’m angry because I’m an idiot. Just like I said, you don’t owe me an explanation. I had my doubts after the blip when things were quickly found and how everything is always rearranged like the clappers. You look more alive than ever but older at the same time, and I don’t understand a damn thing.”, he said, chucking the sheets into the laundry basket.

“I did not want to tell it to anyone because I’m already an outcast for not being normal. People look at me in fear and disgust after knowing who I am.”, You tried explaining to him. This was wrong; finding out something like this made the situation worse.

“Look, I get it; I’m really thankful that you saved my life today.”, You signaled him to be quiet as you scanned around. Flares shimmered away from you throughout the room, creating dark midnight hues, with a glint of yellow flaring over them.

He looked more confused than ever.

“Ah, it keeps happening all the time. I don’t know why the colors keep changing, but this one is always prominent.”, you explained, gesturing at the blue orb.

“How long have you been doing this?”, he asked putting on his clothes.

“It was in 2012. I acquired them when I was trying to get Loki off from smuggling the tesseract. I don’t know how but I understood that he was possessed. I tried negotiating, talking sense into him. I told him that I knew what was going on and was trying to help him out. He told me that he would kill me, so I threatened to destroy the tesseract out of stupidity. One thing led to another, and I crushed it with his scepter. The next thing that I knew, that was I was in a hospital bed out for almost a month.” You summarized.

“Wait, and no one knew about it?” Sam was surprised processing in. “No signs of any radiation, damage, or anything?”

“No, it turned out that Loki had used his powers and transferred the blow to the other side of the portal. On the other hand, I did not show any remains of radiation. I don’t know how.”, he was more concerned.

“So, you’re saying that Loki’s intentions were not to destroy New York.”, He sat down, rubbing his palms together.

“No, it was Thanos. He had caught Loki wandering off in space when he committed suicide jumping off the rainbow bridge in Asgard. He made a negotiation by torturing Loki to bring Tesseract and the Septer to him.”

“Which is around two stones, right? Then why would he send Loki, when he could do the job himself?”, he was trying to come out with a possible explanation.

“I don’t know what his true intentions were, but when we’re doing our research on stones during the time heist, we came to a conclusion that he had done the same with the power stone as well. He negotiated with Ronan to wipe out half of Xandar in exchange for the power stone. He did the same thing with Loki too. Give him an army to invade and rule the earth in exchange for the stones.”

“So, this was more like killing two birds in a stone.”, he completed your sentence looking up at you.

“It was also another reason why I never initiated any interest, even though I really liked you a lot when you let us into your home for the first time.”, you confessed, picking upon the fabric of your pants.

“What?” he was letting the new information sink in.

“Technically, it was in the closet when we were trying to set up Steve and Nat together.”, You were feeling guilty that you did not give him any time to process the information.

“Do you regret it?”, He had an unreadable expression on his face.

“I regret a lot of things, Sam. You have to be more specific.”, From what life had thrown you into different situations, one thing that you were sure about having a life with normalcy was that you liked Sam. As a person, a friend, and someone you could rely upon.

“You know what I mean.”, the hardness in his stare threw you off. It was something that was never directed at you.

“I do, Sam. I do. Call it fate or whatever you want; I had hope before the blast had happened. Retire one day and have a normal life. I was convinced that I would not use my powers because I was tired of people exploiting me.”, There were times when blood samples were taken, right before and after having meals. It mostly ended up you hearing gossip about how the blood work always turned out to be normal as guards walked down the narrow corridor, assuming you were asleep.

“From H.Y.D.R.A.to SHEILD, I do not want anyone come after me, and then I met you.”, pinching out splinters from the window, you give yourself a second to continue. “I almost convinced myself that I would always avenge and fight for the rest of my life. This is going to sound really cheesy, you know?”

“It is all kinds of normal; that is what makes us human.” He was looking at the wool rug spread across the floor, nodding at you to continue.

Well then.

“When I met you, I started liking you throughout the years after we met. For who you are, you’re your maturity, goofiness with a pinch of cockiness that comes out every now and then, but you are also respectful at the same time.”

He was looking up at you with a calm look on his face. On the other hand, you were almost shaking because it was always him before the snap who initiated everything. Initiated talks, initiated to join into conversations when Steve and Nat bickered around, initiated to go out for a date in Wakanda and the night you two had before the battle. This was new, but the burden of carrying all of these secrets alleviated your shoulders; maybe this could give you closure. Closure on how you can never change what had happened but only move on.

‘One step at a time,’ like Steve said.

“It is just- I was so scared, I guess. I was not decisive, and my feelings just grew stronger.” You sat down, with eyes swimming all over the room, landing at Sam, who was now sitting down across you. It was like he had heard your thoughts, now that you noticed him in a black turtle neck cotton shirt. This was your Sam sitting close to you, but not close enough. You wanted to be confused as to why you longed for his presence, but it was crystal clear. With realization seeping into bones, you had to accept that you deserved an ordinary life, but Sam deserved better. Better than all of this mess. What if someone had come looking out for him because of you?

“I need some time away from you, Y/N, so that I can decide when we both sort out about this because I don’t want to swing back and forth if I’m honest with you. This is about me, deciding for myself.”, dissolving the encased power that had kept you both from prying ears, Sam jumped when he heard strings of notifications pinging in.

You heard the sound of your ringtone to see Sarah calling in.

“Do you want to talk to her? I, uh—meant that she called you hours ago.”,

“Nah, just talk to her. She might be calling you for a reason.”

Next part

Taglist: @wanniiieeee

#sam wilson x reader #tfaws spoilers #Sam wilson x reader angst #just sam wilson #tampered

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holylulusworld · 5 years ago

Text

The right bed

Summary: You end up in the right bed.

Request: Could you write a Dean x shy! Virgin reader where she was in an abusive relationship or just had had people talk her down\harass her so she chose to close herself of from others. Then she meets the Winchesters and she becomes herself again but then Dean does something that reverts her back to this closed off girl and he tries to fix it?

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Sam Winchester, OFC Joshua, Jody Mills

Warnings: angst, language, mentions of an abusive relationship/verbal abuse/degrading, comforting, fluff, violence, blood, protective Dean, light smut, fingering, unprotected sex, tension, snuggling and cuddling

Requested sequel to: The wrong bed

Lyrics by Led Zeppelin - Travelling Riverside Blues

Around two years later…

Waking next to Dean you snuggle closer to his side. No matter how often you open your eyes and meet Dean’s peaceful face while he sleeps you will never get used to it.

For over two years Dean’s your man, and you are his girl. After that night, he did everything to make sure you know he never meant to hurt you. That Dean is no one you need to be afraid of.

Dean waited for you to be ready, never put any pressure on you until you took the lead and prepared his room for Valentine’s Day.

Dean was your first man, and if God or whoever is watching you is willing to agree, he’s your last man.

“Are you watching me sleep?” Smirking Dean blinks his eyes open and you meet those green orbs you learned to love. “That’s creepy but…” Rolling you onto your back Dean nuzzles your neck. “You’re lucky you are cute.”

Squealing you push at Dean’s shoulder while he’s busy to mark your neck with his lips.

“Dean!” Little snorts leave your lips as Dean laughs against your throat.

“Just wanted to make sure you have another hickey.” Smirking up at you Dean pokes your sides, tickling you until you call for Sam’s help. “Sammy won’t help you, Baby Girl. He knows you’re mine…”

With hungry eyes Dean kisses down your chest, wrapping his lips around one nipple to suck it into his hot mouth.

“Dean…” Grinding against the fingers sliding through your folds you throw your head back.

“I know what my girl needs. Look at you; so sexy while wearing nothing but my marks all over your body…” Now you moan loudly.

Unlike the marks and bruises Joshua left, Dean gives you marks showing you his love and affection. Those are marks you wear with pride.

“Dean…” Gasping you feel his lips on yours and his fingers slip into you. Two digits open you up, making your toes already curl at the thought of Dean inside of you.

“Do you want me to make you feel good?” Pecking your lips Dean smirks as you spread your legs wider to let him settle between your thighs completely.

When he finally replaces his fingers with something better you grasp for his shoulders, dragging Dean impossible closer to make sure you feel his breath in your neck and his skin against yours.

Falling into a rhythm you both enjoy, Dean kisses your neck, enjoying the way you wrap your arms around him to press your hands to his back, caressing his skin.

“Come for me, Baby Girl. I want to feel you fall apart for me. Show me how good I can make you feel.” Whimpers leave your lips along with your hoarse voice crying out his name.

“Dean…”

“I’ve got you, Y/N, always and forever. You ended up in the right bed.” Laughing at his words you hold tight onto Dean, your lover, your friend, and the man bringing out the light inside of you.

“I love you, Dean…”

“Love you too, Sweetheart…”

Just lying next to you Dean looks at your panting form, smirking as he wore you out once again.

While you snuggle closer to kiss his shoulder Dean’s phone starts ringing but he ignores it.

That’s what he always does. Before he was with you Dean always answered his phone, always put anything or anyone first. Now he takes his time, just lies next to you not caring who calls.

“Dean, you can answer your phone ‘k. Maybe someone is in trouble and needs our help.” As Dean doesn’t react you roll over, lying on top of him to grasp for his phone.

“You little thief…” Teasing you Dean takes the phone out of your hands to answer the call.

“No, no problem Jody. I just finished my workout.” Wiggling his eyebrows Dean gives you are smack to your ass as you bite his shoulder.

“Does Jody need help?” Nodding Dean slides his fingers through your hair, listening to Jody’s words. “Shall I pack our things?” Smiling Dean nods again.

“Jody, we are on our way. Just don’t go in alone. Tell Donna and Claire to cool down, Jody. I know Asha was a friend, but hunters die. We don’t want to lose one of you only as you were out for blood.” Voice deep, commanding Dean makes sure Jody and the others won’t put their lives on the line.

You admire Dean. He can be a funny dork, a passionate lover but at the next moment, he’s a tough hunter, a leader in flesh and blood.

Singing along to Dean’s favorite song you hear Sam groan in the backseat. He’s annoyed as you and Dean refused to let him listen to a boring podcast.

“Come on, Sammy! Sing with us!” Giggling you watch Sam snort in the backseat, but he starts singing too.

In those short moments, it feels like your lives are not in danger all the time. In those short moments, it feels like you and the boys have a normal life and you can do anything you want to do.

“That’s it, boys. Now the chorus!” Cheerful you look at Dean, loving the way his deep voice makes your body react to him. “NOW!”

Lord, I'm goin' to Rosedale, gon' take my rider by my side

We can still barrelhouse baby, on the riverside

Dean sings while Sam and you try to not laugh at Dean’s serious try to sound good while singing.

“Dude, you are an awful singer…” Sam laughs, holding his stomach and you giggle next to Dean, earning a disapproving glare from your boyfriend. “Don’t blame us, Dean. I never heard someone singing that wrong…”

Dean ignores your words or his brother’s laughter. Instead, he smirks before he sings the last lines of Led Zeppelin’s Travelling Riverside Blues.

Now you can squeeze my lemon 'til the juice run down my

'Til the juice rune down my leg, baby, you know what I'm talkin' about

You can squeeze my lemon 'til the juice run down my leg

That's what I'm talkin' 'bout, now

But I'm goin' back to Friar's Point, if I be rockin'to my head

Squirming in your seat you lick your lips, not missing the dirty grin Dean gives you or the way his tongue darts out to wet his lower lip.

“Dean…”

“Yeah, Sweetheart?”

“We are there…” Sighing you close your eyes for a moment. “I hate hunter funerals, Dean. Always remind me our lifestyle is deadly.”

“I know, Baby…” Taking your hand in his Dean presses a soft kiss to your knuckles. “We do this for Jody and the others. We don’t have to stay for long, Y/N.”

“No, we can stay. I just don’t like being around many people. Hunters especially…” Glancing out of the window you take a deep breath.

“When Joshua hit me for the third time, he almost broke my cheekbone. There was an elder hunter, I asked him for help and he just laughed it off.” Blinking a few times Dean cups your cheek. “He said if I can’t handle my lover…”

“Y/N, tell me that assholes name!” Sam curses from the backseat.

“Well, he wasn’t wrong Sam.” Shrugging you squeeze the hand cupping your cheek. “If I can’t handle that man, how shall I defend my life against monsters. I remembered that hunters’ words when Joshua hit me again…”

“The night you left him?” Gently caressing your cheek Dean searches your face.

“Yeah. I realized that man was right. He could’ve helped me, but then I would’ve been a victim all over again. I never would’ve found the strength to leave Joshua and find you.” Dean presses his forehead against yours, swallowing his anger.

“If we ever meet that hunter, I will thank him and then…” Jaw tense Dean smirks. “I’ll break his face…”

For a hunter’s funeral, it’s not as crowded as you feared. At least you know most of the people around. Jody and Donna, along with Claire come to the funeral, just like a few familiar faces whose names you do not remember.

Dean stands always close to you, one arm protectively slung around your waist he looks around the room. It seems like he’s looking for the elder hunter you told him about.

“That hunter, he’s not here, Dean. Relax and we can go to Jody’s later and have pie and beer.” Humming Dean pecks your neck, slightly nibbling at your skin when someone yelling your name catches his attention.

Body going stiff, hands trembling you grasp for your boyfriends’ hand and Dean knows who called your name without asking.

“I only want to know one thing. Is that him?” Dean whispers but before you can answer Joshua step in front of you, snarling your name once again.

“I knew we meet again, bitch! You ran off without saying goodbye and stole fifty bucks. I want my money…or…” Licking his lips he tilts his head. “What should’ve been mine years ago.”

Dean’s fist collides with Joshua’s face, causing him to stumble and land hard on his ass. While Joshua is too shocked to react Dean grabs his shirt, holding it in a tight grip while his fist collides with your tormentor’s face.

“Dean…” Gasping Sam sees the fear in your eyes, and he knows why Dean lost his composure. “Do you need help? We can take turns…”

Sam steps closer, towering dangerously over Joshua as his elder brother let go of your ex-boyfriend Sam takes his place to hit him thrice more.

“Dean, Sam! This is a fucking funeral!” Jody tries to stop Sam who makes space for Dean once again.

“That’s him!” Dean grunts and Jody nods, stepping back to calm the other hunters.

“Do you like hurting a woman? Do you like degrading her to feel better you pathetic little shit?” Furious Dean kicks Joshua’s balls before steps back, spitting onto your former boyfriend. “You get close to my girl, you die. Got it?”

While Joshua silently whimpers he does his best to nod before the tears fall. “I…”

“Good. You’re lucky I let you live, be thankful.” Dean is shaking in anger, cursing and panting heavily but the moment you gently clean his knuckles he calms, giving you a silent apology.

“Dean, you didn’t have to do this for me but…” Sniffling you sling your arms around his neck. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, Y/N. You’re my girl, our family and we won’t let any asshole hurt you or talk low about you. Sammy…” Smirking Dean looks at his brother. “Pay that man…”

“With pleasure…” Sam steps closer again, enjoying Joshua flinches away. While Sam tosses fifty bucks onto the whimpering man Dean leads you out of the house.

“There are your fifty bucks. The money Y/N used to go to a doctor and buy pain meds if you need to know why she dared to take some of the money she earned by hustling pool.”

Kneeling next to Joshua Sam smirks. “If you ever even think of Y/N my brother doesn’t need to stop you as I’ll come for you, Josh. You better get your shit together and leave town or better the country. Timbuktu seems to be a nice choice…”

Sam gets up, snorting as Joshua fails to get up. While the tall hunter slams the door shut behind him all women in the room step closer to Joshua, emptying their drinks onto the hunter.

“You are persona non grada from now on. Now leave…”

“You good?” Holding you close to his chest Dean caresses your back, smiling as you lean into him. “I didn’t want to scare you.”

“You defended me, Dean. I love you and you were right…” Smirking you give him a wink. “I ended up in the right bed…”

SPN Forever Tags

@donnaintx, @screechingartisancashbailiff, @fallen-wolf22, @sister-winchesters99, @mogaruke, @the-is13, @helloitsmeamie203, @sandlee44, @strayrosesbloom, @notyourtypicalrose, @thewinchesterco, @marvelfansworld, @hobby27, @gh0stgurl, @flamencodiva, @jay-and-dean, @voltage-my2dlove, @spnhollis, @chonisberonica, @wittysunflower, @supernaturalenchanted, @shikshinkwon, @yolobloggers, @hhiggs, @laxe-from-outer-space, @ilovefanfic86, @linki-locks11, @eggingamazinglove, @trumpettay, @fandom-imagines1, @thenamelesschibi, @waywardbaby, @straycuties9, @drakelover78, @stuckys-whore, @zxph-yr, @i-love-superhero, @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt, @deepmuffinspymaker, @katpatrova17, @heyitscam99, @fandom-princess-forevermore, @neii3n, @exo-nova, @cocklesbelli, @echoesofpassion, @lauravic, @shatteredabby, @deanmonandnegansbitch, @sea040561, @lemondropirwin, @lonewolf471, @wronglanemendes, @juniorhuntersam, @helpmeluci, @goodgodimaweirdperson, @shadowkat-83, @alltimesamantha, @officialmarvelwhore, @meganywinchester, @miraclesoflove, @lu-sullivan, @maniacproffesor, @hollymac79, @kayla-2000, @gracefultrenchcoat494, @babygirls-fav, @spnwoman, @amiquette, @alexoloughlinlover32, @geekofmanyforms, @jessica-marsh09, @spnficgirl, @shut-themoonscone, @thequeenreaders, @countrygal17a, @atomicfandombomb, @kteelou, @soryuwifeyxx, @kricketc28, @defenderrosetyler, @shortwinchester, @maybesomedaygayyyy, @tmiships4life, @sabascio, @that-place-called-middle-earth, @the-broken-angel-13, @bunnybaby89, @pandabiiissh, @maddiedott, @lilulo-12, @theoneandonlymelol, @mblaqgi, @clawsandshotguns, @justsomedreaming, @cassiopeia-barrow, @its-the-timey-wimey-winchesters, @mscarter213, @jo-like-josette, @mep6811, @prettydeaneyes, @rvgrsbrns, @deanwanddamons, @certaindeanwinchesterforcastiel

Dean/Jensen Forever Tags

@spnfamily-j2, @supernatural-bellawinchester, @negans-lucille-tblr, @deans-baby-momma, @thefaithfulwriter, @squirrelnotsam, @roonyxx, @neerness, @deansgirl-1968, @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester, @butifulsoul125, @lyinginthegingerlocks, @20gayneen, @janicho88, @woodworthti666, @thevelvetseries, @dreaminemz, @akshi8278, @midnightsilver16830, @mrspeacem1nusone, @ria132love, @caligraphee, @the-witch-in-silence, @justanotherwinchester, @multisuperfandom, @jason-todd-squad, @jadesupernatural, @psychicforest, @luciathewinchestergirl, @magssteenkamp, @palefiregiver, @tranquility-or-chaos, @jxackles, @michellemxndes, @addictedtofictionalcharacters, @gabifernandessn

#spn #the right bed #spn fanfiction #angst #light smut #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester SPN #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester smut

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miss-choco-chips · 5 years ago

Text

Reverse Robin au

I wanted to try my hand at both Reverse Robin au and childhood friends DamiTim. So, Headcannons for all!!!

In which Damian goes from thinking Tim has cooties, to imagining him in leather. Oh, and he trains to be a hero in between.

Or, in which Tim goes from sassing Damian for being a prick, to sassing him because it’s their own special sort of foreplay.

They are seven and eight, respectively, when they met.

A part of Damian still believes girls have cooties; Timothy is no girl, but his best friend and usual companion is one, so he can’t be that far. Besides, he’s seven, a baby. Still, Mother and Father insist he plays with him, and he loves them too much to say ‘no’ when they ask something so earnestly.

Tim, a hand gripping his mother’s dress, takes one good look at the Wayne Heir, the hand offered to him and a superior sneer on his face, and then glances at his mom.

‘He’s a prick’, he tells her with his eyes. She smiles benevolently down at him, but he catches the answer behind her Lady facade: ‘I know he is. Still, behave.’

While Mother and Father exchange pleasantries with the Drakes, Damian shakes hands with their son. As Heirs of the two most powerful families of the city (and arguably, the country), they are bound to see a lot of each other.

The boy, Timothy he introduced himself as, has a very pale, very soft hand. No calluses. Damian, a martial arts enthusiast, can’t help but scoff.

The kid looks him dead in the eye, apparently not missing his reaction. With a completely angelic smile, and the most passive aggressive voice Damian ever heard, he tilted his head and asked.

‘Is there something on your throat, Mr Little Wayne?’ ‘No?’ ‘Oh, then you’re just a naturally unpleasant person’

Before Damian can even answer with a good comeback, the little boy is walking away towards where his friend, Stephanie Brown, daughter of Miss Brown, the head catheter of this events, is waiting.

Damian is left standing, hand still out where he was shaking the kid’s own, mouth agape as he watches the little brat just leave him. His parents must have missed they ‘conversation’, but Mrs Drake hasn’t, if the equally exasperated and fond look in her eyes was something to go from.

From then on, every time they met, the little monster seemed to have a comeback ready. No matter how Damian prepared himself for their little greetings each time they bumped into the other at a party, Timothy always had some answer waiting under the tip of his tongue, both cutting, smart and deceivingly innocent.

‘Tsk. Again with Brown, I see. Can’t you do anything without your little shadow?’ ‘I can explain to you what friendship is, but I don’t think I can help you understand, sadly.’

‘Damian, I feel twice as happy seeing you as I did last time!’ ‘I’m sure you do…’ ‘Yeah. What’s two times zero?’ ‘...you brat’

‘Timothy. Your suit looks… as nice as it could, given the circumstances, I think‘ ‘And yours looks… well, I guess it’s nice to see not everyone is so obsessed with appearances’.

Both Brown and Mrs Drake seemed to find their exchanges amusing. He’s glad someone does, for he finds them exhausting and full of frustration. The little brat was seven, he shouldn’t be able to always have the last word. Damian was a Wayne. It was unbecoming.

Still, it was… better than aimlessly follow his parents around. And he could always brag about his physical training success, which never failed to bring a frown to Timothy’s face.

He noticed too how his hand was starting to gain callousness over time. Apparently, someone was bitter about Damian’s training.

When his parents died, murdered in cold blood in front of him at the tender age of ten, he thought himself alone. Then Alfred came for him to the police station and hugged him as tight as Dad used to do, and Timothy walked right to the front seats on the funeral and held his hand during it all.

He had lost his parents, but there were people that cared for him, still. He couldn’t allow himself to fall into despair; he needed to keep this from happening to anyone else. He needed to protect the city his parents had loved.

Back in the Mannor, he endured as countless of strangers gave him their condolences, swallowing his desire to spit in their faces. None cared. Fakes, all of them; in their eyes, he was but a wealthy, vulnerable child, an open door towards the Wayne fortune.

Timothy’s hand in his, calluses more notable each day and cold eyes keeping the worst of the worst away, kept him in check. He left his side shortly, speaking with his mother in whispers, before coming back and tugging him away. Mrs Drake, as the Waynes most close ally, took Damian’s place in thanking people for their support.

In his room, safe from the world, he broke down in the other child’s arms. Timothy, just one year younger but so much frailer, kept a tight grip on him, arms around his back and back straight, eyes to the door. A show of strength, of protection; you can cry, I’ll keep watch.

Damian starts his training. Alfred calls master after master, in acrobatics, swordsmanship, hand to hand combat, forensics, everything that would keep his young Master from giving up and quitting on life. Anything to keep him busy, and moving.

Damian finds it humorous, how Timothy looks at him the next time they met at a party and frowns, obviously noticing the trials his body is going through on the lines of it. Something no one else seems to see.

He doesn’t tell Timothy he doesn’t need to work himself to the bone to be equal to Damian, he doesn’t need to catch up to him, because he’s already on the same level, his sharp mind and calculating disposition enough to make up for the breach in physical strength. He doesn’t say this, because wit can only take you so far, if your opponent is stronger than you, and every bit of knowledge Timothy amasses in his quest of showing Damian up could potentially save his life one day.

He likes that their exchanges are still the same; even in the darkest times, he can trust the newly turned 13 year old to be a passive aggressive little brat.

‘Oh, Timothy, it seems you’re still focusing more on your studies than… more practical areas’ ‘Somewhere out there, there’s a tree tirelessly producing oxygen so you can breath. I think you owe it an apology’

‘You seem ill, Timothy. Or is that shade of white natural to you?’ ‘Oh, I was feeling a little unwell, hence why I came to see you. They say laughter is medicine, and your face is already curing me’

‘It smells like something is burning. Damian, are you trying to think again?’ ‘....as always, you’re such a pleasure to meet with’ ‘I know, you’re welcome’

It lacked the bite it used to have, tough. Timothy was as ready to talk back at him in his bitchiest voice, as he was to ruthlessly humiliate anyone trying to fuck with Damian.

When he left the city, seeking to better himself for his mission, he and Alfred were the only ones he was sad to leave behind.

He traveled for years, safe in the knowledge that Mrs Drake was looking out for his company and her son, and that Alfred would be taking care of the Mannor and preparing everything for his return in a few years.

HE exchanged letters with Timothy. Calls could be intervened, and as long as him and Timothy spoke in code and never revelaed anything too personal, there was no problem with keeping physicals reminders of their ever growing bond.

He met Talia when he was fifteen, who in turn introduced him to her father. They both seemed to take a liking to both his abilities and goal, and took him in for training. She seemed to think of herself as a mother figure, as she kept pating his head and calling him ‘my own’, and Ra’s’ eyes would shine with greed during the times he took Damian’s training into his own hands.

He left before turning eighteen, when talks of successors and adoptions became too unbearable. His only parents were dead, and he had no intention to replace them for such dark, shady figures. Besides, no matter how close their objectives seemed at first, the more he knew them the least they sounded like philanthropists. Terrorist, was a more fitting label.

He turned 21 on his first night back in Gotham. Alfred, who never failed to bake a cake for him despite his absence the last seven years, shared it with him with teary eyes.

The morning after that, Timothy came to see him.

It took Damian’s breath away.

He was still shorter, and at this point it was a sure thing he’d always be, but small height didn’t mean his charms were as well. His skin remained as white as he remembered, eyes icy blue, both in color and the feeling they gave off, hair even darker than Damian’s framing a delicate face.

His hands were rougher than he remembered, though. More calloused, packed with extra strength. Damian could tell, because the first thing this enchanting man did upon them meeting was to slap him. Hard.

‘I know everyone is entitled to act stupid once in a while, but you are really abusing the privilege, Damian. Seven years? Seven? And spent, what, three of them in company of the Al Ghuls? Are you always this dumb, or you just like showing off when I’m around? This doesn’t impress me, you know. I’ve always known you were an idiot, it’s not news anymore’

‘How…?’

‘You might think yourself above all others, smart wise, but please remember I’m someone you never won a battle of wits against. I know everything about your little world trotting, because I have spies, and about your time with the League, because I’ve known Ra’s for way longer than you. Also, your stupid little hero idea…’

‘Spies again?’

‘Alfred. Somehow, he thinks I can make you change your mind. I might be hailed as a saint by gothamites, but I certainly can’t work miracles’

Tim left eight hours later, after discussing both Damian’s travels and plans for the future. He had way more information than Damian had guessed, and had been silently but steadily growing his network of contacts and spies, and had his dainty little fingers in more pies than a baker. He growled at him, called him stupid, told him he was going to get himself killed if he pushed forward with the whole ‘Batman’ idea, but… When he left, it was as a ally. He’d support Damian, do his best to keep him well informed, and deal with over the table crimes, while Damian took care of the ones under it.

He fell in love, a little bit. Or, more accurately, fell more in love. The seeds have been planted years before, when a seven year old sassesd him and left him eating his words. Now, through… the dark knowledge he had amassed, the sharpness in his eyes, the deceptively frail appearance…

Something twisted in his gut, in a nice way. He went to bed that night, and started to think in other aliases that would go nicely with Batman.

Wouldn't Timothy look dashing, in leather and kevlar?

#Tim Drake #Damian Wayne #Reverse Robin au #love reverse au #Batman Damian #spymaster Tim #Janet Drake is also a good mom here because #SUCK IT DC #pre damitim #Alfred Pennyworth #my writting #headcanons

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rachelkaser · 4 years ago

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Stay Golden Sunday: The Engagement

In my continuing efforts to find time to write about things outside of the bounds of my job, I’ve been thinking about some old friends. If I’m going to write about anything in the wreckage of 2020, I want it to be something very close to me, something I know that others remember with as much fondness as I do.

So yeah: Let’s talk about The Golden Girls.

youtube

Thank You For Being a Friend

Given everything that’s happened this year, both to the world and me, I’ve not really been so interested in watching new shows as re-watching some old favorites. And out of those, the closest to my heart is The Golden Girls. It’s the show I watched the most with my late mother -- she and I bonded from my pre-adolescence to my late twenties on this show.

I was at the perfect age to absorb this show’s lessons, even if some of the raunchier humor went over my head when I was a kid. This is the show that taught me about strong friendships, how to love well, tolerance, acceptance, grief, humility, integrity and good humor. There are so many parts of myself I can trace, in some way, to Dorothy, Sophia, Blanche, and Rose -- and through them, my mother.

And I’m far from the only one. According to a report from The New York Times, the show became incredibly popular with 18-to-34 year-olds after it began airing on Lifetime -- the article charmingly refers to us as “The Grandchildren of the Golden Girls.” As you might expect, that’s not the projected demographic for a show starring four women over the age of 50 (yes, Blanche, you really are old enough to have a 16-year-old grandson).

If I had to pick a reason, it’d be a combination of the motherly warmth of the four main characters and the novelty (and reassurance) of a show that tells you life does in fact go on when you’re no longer in the bloom of youth. The NYT article features an interview with a Lifetime exec who theorizes that it’s because the women act in a way we typically associate with youth: “They all dated, they all talked about sex, they didn't care about what people thought about them. Those are all values that younger people share.”

I agree with that sentiment, though I will add an addendum: They act the way younger people want to act. Younger people want to be carefree and fun-loving in the way that the Girls are. More often than not, young people are -- and I say this with all the fondness and self-effacement of someone about to exit their twenties -- comparative basketcases. It’s like Mark Twain said: “Life should begin with age and its privileges and accumulations, and end with youth and its capacity to splendidly enjoy such advantages.”

Of course, there’s an alternate explanation: Golden Girls is really goddamned funny.

So every Sunday, I’ll recap and review an episode from The Golden Girls. Barring extraordinary circumstances, I’ll review every episode in order. Then I’ll give some commentary on the story, highlight any of those devilish inconsistencies, and pick a favorite line. I hope some of my fellow Grandchildren of the Golden Girls enjoy some of my thoughts on the episodes.

Picture it...

With all that being said (and I promise no long intros after this point unless it’s very called for), let’s get started with the pilot episode, “The Engagement,” which originally aired in September 1985.

The show proper opens with Dorothy Zbornak and Rose Nylund asking roommate Blanche Hollingsworth about the man she’s been seeing. Blanche tells them the gallant beau in question, Harry, has proposed -- in spite of the fact that, as Rose points out, they’ve only known each other a week. And Harry wants an answer tonight.

Meanwhile, the doorbell rings, and Dorothy answers to see her mother Sophia Petrillo, who says that her nursing home burned down. As Blanche has to explain to Rose, Sophia’s cutting words are the result of her stroke destroying her inhibitions. Sophia does indeed have the subtlety and diplomacy of a Sherman tank, but she at least thinks gay cook Coco is alright.

Harry arrives and schmoozes all of the ladies, though Sophia is not impressed. After he leaves, Rose has a soliloquy about how glad she was to move in with the other ladies, as otherwise she’d be alone, with her children grown up and her husband dead, and she’s not sure what to do now with herself. Sophia’s suggestion? “Get a poodle.”

Rose and Dorothy are divided on whether or not Blanche will accept Harry’s proposal, with Rose adamant that Blanche can’t be without male attention. Blanche returns, and reveals -- after a brief argument about the movement speed of oysters -- she accepted Harry’s proposal and they’ll be married in a week. When Rose asks where she and Dorothy will live once Blanche, who owns the house, is married, Blanche responds that they can stay for as long as they like.

A week later, Blanche is preparing for her wedding. Rose pulls Dorothy aside and says there’s something about Harry that makes her suspicious, but she’s not sure what. She tries to tell Blanche to call off the wedding, but Dorothy resorts to physical restraint to stop her from ruining Blanche’s happy moment, up to and including throwing Rose into Blanche’s closet.

Harry is late to the wedding, much to the frustration of the minister -- “This is Miami. I’ve got funerals backed up.” When the doorbell rings, however, it’s a police officer (played by a pre-Designing Women Meshach Taylor), who tells Blanche that Harry has been arrested for bigamy. Harry leaves Blanche a note telling her she was special to him.

Three weeks later, Blanche is still upset and refusing to leave her room. Rose and Dorothy discuss what to do, and Sophia’s only input is to ask to be left on the curb next to the trash cans when she goes. Blanche arrives, smiling, and says the girls helped her pull through her grief. The girls all go out to celebrate with dinner, but Sophia declines as she and Coco are going to the dog track.

BLANCHE: Your mother bets?

DOROTHY: No, she rides. She’s a dog jockey.

“It’s Miami in June. Only cats are wearing fur.”

For a pilot, this episode establishes the characters, their biographies, and their dynamics with incredible economy. What you see here is what you’re going to see for the next seven seasons, at least with regards to the four women.

For example, we know the moment she opens her mouth that Dorothy is a teacher -- that teacher, specifically. She’s smart and tough enough to tell her rebellious students to leave. She also complains that “all the single men under 80 are cocaine smugglers,” establishing pretty much all you need to know about the women’s dating lives. We also known from the moment we see Rose that she’s bright, cheerful, and a grief counselor -- she probably couldn’t say a stern or unkind word if her life depended on it.

Blanche, on the other hand, has to bear the first heartbreak of the series -- meaning she’s the first who gets her negative character traits examined as well as her positives. She’s refined, graceful, and sexy on the positive side. Unfortunately, she’s also desperate for romantic affection, so much so that she accepts the proposal of a man she’s only known a week and suffers for it. I don’t think there’s an actress in the world who could have sold this as well as Rue McClanahan did.

That said, I think it’s Sophia that binds the whole episode together. Without her sass, I don’t know if the three women would have held together as well as they do. While the opening moments of the show do have some crackle to them, it’s only when Estelle Getty walks on screen that the show really comes to life. Not only does her sharp tongue pair well with Dorothy’s own witty banter, she’s a great counterpoint to Rose’s bubbleheaded buoyancy and Blanche’s genteel manners.

As is usual for pilots, not everything about this episode stayed for the rest of the show’s run. The biggest example of this is Coco, the gay cook who appears only in this episode, but there are others. For starters, Blanche’s room is in a completely different part of the house, and she’s referred to by the name “Blanche Hollingsworth.” Sophia’s smart mouth is blamed on her stroke, rather than being who she is. The entire house’s furniture, decorations, and color palette would eventually change.

Coco’s a bit of an unusual example, because it feels like even the people who made the show didn’t know what to do with him. He’s given next to nothing to do. He has no stand-out personality traits like the ladies. Even most of the shots are framed in such as way as to exclude him: For example, he’s “on-stage” for the whole kitchen scene at the beginning of the episode, but look how these shots are angled so as not to show him:

That’s bizarre because, according to Golden Girls Forever by Jim Colucci, the “gay houseboy” character was apparently pretty important in the early script treatments. All of the writers apparently wanted to see more gay characters on TV and they thought he would add variety to the cast. But even one of the people who auditioned for the role said he thought the character was cheap and drew attention away from the women. The character was eventually dropped because it didn’t make sense for the women to be living together out of financial necessity and have a live-in domestic.

I didn’t think I was going to see inconsistencies in the very first episode either, but there is at least one: Blanche tells Harry about Sophia’s home burning down, even though Blanche wasn’t in the room when Sophia told Dorothy that. These little continuity errors have become a kind of trivia for Golden Girls fans, as fondly remembered as anything in accepted canon.

Overall, I can see why this script attracted three well-known TV actresses, and why everyone at NBC fell in love with it. I’ll work out a grading system for episodes later, but for now I’ll just say I’m so, so, so pleased for myself and the world in general that they managed to capture this kind of lightning in a bottle.

Favorite part of the episode:

ROSE: I can’t eat anything that moves. DOROTHY: Like what, Rose? Horses? ROSE: Like oysters. COCO: Oysters don’t move. DOROTHY: Coco, they could dance! Who cares?!

#golden girls #stay golden #dorothy rose blanche sophia #dorothy zbornak #sophia petrillo #rose nylund #blanche devereaux #the engagement #stay golden sunday

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wheremytwinwatches · 5 years ago

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[Where My Twin Watches]: Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood Episode 10

Time to watch Brotherhood, the charming show where absolutely nothing bad is going to happen this episode, right?

Right?!

Starting off with [EXPLOSIONS], looks like a flashback to the Ishvalan Civil War/Genocide, troops in blue running and falling as they charge Ishvalans in a ruined town. Up until there’s a snap of fingers, and the screen turns red. And out of the smoke comes Roy, thinking about how he’ll do everything he can to protect the people he loves.

Jeez. This show’s not pulling any punches when it comes to the reality of war, is it?

In the aftermath of the attack, Roy’s explaining this philosophy of protection to Hughes, who likens it to a pyramid scheme. And the only one who really profits from such a scheme is the one at the top of the pyramid. Hey, Fuhrer! How’s the weather up there?

Roy continues to be incredibly unsubtle about his goal of becoming Fuhrer, Hughes jokes that it’ll at least be fun to watch. And maybe his “naive idealism” can do some good? But as easygoing as Bradley generally acts (this is the guy who easily cut down Mr. Freeze, moves at Homura speeds, and ordered a freaking genocide), I don’t think he’s just gonna step aside if Roy asks nicely.

Back to the present, seems Roy was remembering this as a dream, taking a nap in his office. Not much time for sleep, with all the preparation for the Central transfer.

Episode 10 - “Separate Destinations”

Well, that music’s not ominous at all!

In the hospital Ed’s recounting what happened in the Lab, complete with illustrations. Armstrong and Hughes are discussing the ouroboros tattoos and TC, and all the other mysteries surrounding the case. Of course, any answers they might have gotten are now under a ton of rubble.

...Is that really such an issue? I mean, a good portion of the cast are matter manipulators, can’t Armstrong just punch the boulders out of the way?

Hey! Stop eavesdropping, Brosh!

Ross is smart enough to not sneak a listen on her superior officers. And ooooh dear, it’s the big cheese himself.

Bradley says he’s stopped by for an informal visit. Heard that Ed was injured, thought a nice melon might cheer him up. Um. Ok?

Uh oh. Bradley picked up that Armstrong has been “checking up” on some of the senior staff. And he’s frowning now. Um.

“And now you… my revered Fullmetal Alchemist…” holy crud his voice went all gravely

“Tell me what you know about the Philosopher’s Stone.”

“And I hope for your sake… that you don’t know too much.”

This is bad this is really bad the Goths were bad enough but if the Government really was running that Lab then these guys just trashed a project of Bradley crap crap crap

Wait, what?

“Ha ha ha! I’m only kidding! There’s no reason for you to be so uptight!”

Hold up, what the hell was that all about?

Bradley’s saying that he knows there’s been some suspicious activity in the military lately, and something “needs to be done about it.”

...I’m still mostly convinced that you’re up to something, Bradley. But I’m not sure what.

Ooh, seems all the researchers assigned to officially study the Philosopher’s Stone have been going missing. Goth’s covering their tracks? And Bradley shows elements of being a spymaster, even with his informants he doesn’t know how much the Military’s been infiltrated, beyond “they know a lot about us.”

Now, a direct order from the Fuhrer; “To forget this matter and all that it concerns.” Since the best defense against spying is discretion, they need to keep this to themselves… up until Bradley thinks the time is right to confront them directly.

Hmm. I’m getting elements of conflicting plans here. The Goths are up to some evil involving Ed as a “sacrifice”, the leader of a genocidal government that was researching/making Philosophers’ Stones… There’s something going on here, I just can’t quite pin it down yet. Need more info.

Then all this plotting is interrupted by Bradley going out a window to escape his bodyguard. Still not seeing the Fuhrer in the best light, but you can’t deny that the character Bradley is a riot.

Winry stops by with some train tickets for Ed. Where are you off to, before you’re even healed up fully? Dublith? Play on Dublin? Oh, we finally get to meet this mysterious Teacher! Who even now has the Giant Suit of Armor shaking in his plate boots. A tough taskmaster?

Ed points out the town on a handy map, looks like it’s in the Southern Quadrant. But something shocks Winry about the trip, a town right before it?

“It’s the holy land of Automail engineering. It’s Rush Valley!” Well someone’s excited. Ooh, do we get Winry traveling with the Elrics? Also, predicting an upgrade in Ed’s future, if Winry’s that impressed with this place. What’s so special about it

Aw come on Ed, stop being such a pill. It’s not like you’re hurting for money as a SA. Maybe there’s elements of wanting to keep her out of danger (because you poor boys are trouble magnets), but you can do it! Also, moves my ship along? Please?

[Huges]: “She’ll make you a fine wife, someday.”

[Ed]: “Don’t start that again!”

Speaking of wives, Hughes is heading off to work, Elicia’s being painfully adorable, asking if Daddy can get home early that day. (!) Hughes says he’ll try to get back as soon as possible (!!), Mrs. Hughes tells him to not be late (!!!), Hughes says he’ll probably not see Winry again before she leaves (!!!!!), oh my LETO how many death flags can they wave at us?!

Damnit damnit damnit he is so dead. Why? Why do you have to kill off Hughes?! Guy’s a family man, he’s funny, he’s lighthearted. There’s enough tragedy in this world of lost limbs and genocide and soulbatteries already, you don’t have to up the ante! Uuuuugh. So annoyed at the blatant post-credits last episode, I’ve been delaying watching this one because I was so afraid of this. Gonna stop watching those from now on, too much spoilage potential.

“Oh, and tell the boys I said goodbye.” AAAAAARGH

“You just make sure to come visit us anytime you’re in Central, okay? Our home is your home too. ‘Til then… Take care of yourself.”

AAAAAAAARGH

Uuuugh, let’s try and move on. The Blond Kids are off on the train, Ed explaining that they’re off to visit Teacher for a couple of reasons, namely he’s tired of losing fights. Sadly he and Winry start squabbling about fighting, she wants them to stop. That’d be nice, Winry, but someone’s gotta stand up to the Goths. Also, they want to center themselves, boost their morale, and seeing an old teacher might help with that. As well ask her what she knows about the Stone.

Wait, what? Ooooh crap. They haven’t seen her since before the Incident, have they? So they’re gonna walk up to their Alchemy Teacher and have to explain “Yeah, I lost two limbs and my brother lost his entire body because we broke The Big Rule of Alchemy. So about some more alchemy training?” They are so dead.

Back in Central, Hughes is doing some research, going over the riots in Liore. Hey, don’t you diss Leto, random underling! Been a lot of stuff going on in the East Quadrant, as well as the North and West. Not the South? Current theory is they’re all too scared of the Elric’s Teacher to mess with her turf.

Suddenly, Hughes stands up, says he’ll be in the Archive room. Figure something out?

In the room, music’s picking up, Hughes is circling places on a map. What is- Oh. Oh my Leto. I think I just realized.

Liore, other uprisings, the Ishvalan Genocide...

The Philosopher’s Stone needs human sacrifices, and a Transmutation Circle.

We’ve already seen there can be a TC the size of a city.

Who’s to say there can’t be one the size of a country?

That’s it. That’s their plan. Craft a nation-sized Alchemy reaction. Create the True Philosopher’s Stone from the sacrifice of thousands, if not millions.

But whose plan is it? The Goths? The Government?

...but Hughes isn’t going to find out, is he? A long-haired silhouette just walked in and closed the door.

[Hughes]: “Cool tattoo you got there.”

[Lust]: “Those are your last words? Wouldn’t you rather scream?”

Leave him ALONE

Wait, he got out? He got stabbed through the shoulder but he got out? How oh HELL yes knife to your fucking forehead, you bitch! You don’t mess with

FUCK YOU NO

you got a knife to the brain you don’t get to just calmly take it out no

Receptionist starts joking then realizes that Hughes is injured, he just walks past and says he needs a private line. Yes ok need to tell Roy about his but she’s not as dead as you think she is.

Wait what Hughes why are you walking away. Oh right Military either infiltrated or in on the whole thing, can’t use a military line. Get to a phone booth, use an outside line. Holdup while Eastern receptionist follows protocol, yet another STUPID death flag as Hughes drops a picture of his family… but this took too long. There’s the sound of a gun cocking-

Wait, Ross?! What are oh nonono please just be misguided don’t be part of the conspiracy.

Oh. Right. The Goths have a shapeshifter.

Come on, Hughes. Keep stalling, the phone’s not hung up so if it’s connected then Roy can hear this and get you help. And while the knife didn’t kill Lust it did slow her down so yes you’ve got another one you can

You. God. Damned. Bastard.

Envy has taken the form of Mrs. Hughes.

A shot is fired.

Only now, when it is too late, does the call get through to Roy. And Envy hangs it up.

[Envy]: “You humans don’t make any sense to me. You throw away your lives for nothing.”

hughes comment indicates hughes Goths inhuman hughes chimeras?

“Gracia… I’m so sorry… Elicia… Remember, Daddy loves you… I’m sorry.”

And Hughes bleeds out in a phone booth.

...The Blond Kids are enjoying pie on the train. It was baked by Mrs. Hughes. As was a quiche.

Ed talks about how Hughes is annoying, stopping by his hospital room every day.

Al thinks they should figure out some way to thank him next time they’re in Central.

We’re spared the scene of Hughes being discovered. But now we bear witness to his funeral.

[Elicia]: “Mommy? Why are they putting all that dirt on Daddy?” [Gracia]: “They’re burying him, dear.” [Elicia]: “But if Daddy gets buried, then he won’t be able to do all his work.” [Gracia]: “Elicia…!” [Elicia]: “Daddy said he has a bunch of work he needs to do! No, stop it! Stop putting dirt on him! Daddy!”

Armstrong is crying. Bradley is visibly shaking. Roy looks down.

The sun sets, as Roy chides Hughes for going and getting promoted to Brigadier General, rather than helping him climb through the ranks.

Riza walks up to the colonel. Who admits a large part of him wants to figure out human transmutation now.

[Riza]: “Are you alright, Colonel?” [Roy]: “Yeah, I’m fine. Except… It’s a terrible day for rain.” [Riza]: “What do you mean? It’s not raining.” [Roy]: “Yes. It is.” [Riza]: “Oh. So it is.”

…

Time resumes as Riza goes guns-akimbo at Scar, who dodges into the alley. The alley with Al still in there. Uh oh. And oh my Leto Roy, don’t you dare complain at the lady who just saved your life. “Useless on rainy days” indeed.

…

Roy’s investigating the events of Hughes’ death now, looking into the Archive Room. A trail of blood went to the phone room, and the receptionist reports that he came in, but then left without dialing a number. Roy identifies the code Hughes used as one used only for military emergencies. But he doesn’t know why.

Riza brings Armstrong, who says they have a list of suspects, but can’t determine their identities. And when Roy presses for details, Armstrong has to refuse. Right, the order from Bradley, he can’t talk about the Goths. But he does get a workaround, saying the Elrics were in town for a few days.

From all that, Roy’s able to determine a group is suspected of the murder, an officer above Armstrong ordered him to keep quiet, and the events involve the singular goal of the Elric Brothers: The Philosopher's Stone. Roy’s clued into the conspiracy now. So, in order to solve the mystery and get vengeance for Hughes, he’s going after the senior staff. With Riza at his side.

And so the episode ends, with Roy on a manhunt in the military, and the unknowing Blond Kids cheerfully laughing as their train heads south.

#yup it's that episode #wmtw #where my twin watches #ranubis #full metal alchemist #full metal alchemist brotherhood #fmab #fmab 10

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southsideprince · 5 years ago

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airing the grievances - a sweet pea and jughead para (discord)

Sweet Pea was sat in the snake ground, a pack of six and a carton of cigarettes. For once it was empty, either people were working or at home and Sweet Pea was enjoying the silence it brought. Raising the bottle to his lips, he took a deep mouthful of the beer. The funeral had been and gone, an emotional day but it was needed to start the process of moving on. Upon hearing footsteps approaching, he looked up, distracted from his inner musings to see Jughead standing there. “Can I help you?”

Jughead had been looking for Sweet Pea, it had been a few days since the funeral and only a couple since the announcement of his father being let go from the police department. Overall, Jughead was feeling down. But he also needed to make things right, if anything it had shown that he and Sweet Pea could find a middle ground and maybe begin working together to get things sorted. After asking around, someone had mentioned seeing him heading for the snake ground and with beer and chips in hand, he made his way over. As he approached, he saw Sweet Pea lookup. At his question, he simply held up the beer and chips with a small shrug. “Thought we could chat?”

He let out a snort, but indicated to the space next to him. “Do what you wish, Jones.” he replied, moving his feet to the ground to make room. “But if this is going to lead to us braiding each others hair and painting nails I’m walking away” he added, raising a brow as he took another sip of his beer.

A smirk graced his lips as he took the offered seat, curling one leg underneath him he turned his body to face Sweet Pea as he cracked open one of the beers. “I’m not down for the nails, but I think you’d suit some pretty little plaits with bows.” he commented, opening the bag of chips and popping one into his mouth.

Sweet Pea shot him a look before taking another sip. “Watch it Jones, or I’ll shave that mop you call hair.” he warned, leaning over to help himself to chips. “But what did you want to talk about?” he asked, curious as to why he’d approached him. He must have made an effort to find him.

Jughead looked affronted and touched his beanie protectively. “You touch my hair and I’ll burn your trailer to the ground.” he threatened, patting it gently. As Sweet Pea helped himself to chips without even a please, Jughead rolled his eyes. “I wanted to thank you for....well for the other day. Stepping up, helping me. It meant a lot.” his voice was less teasing, more sombre as he tried to express his sincerity. It had been tough, preparing it all and getting everything ready. Sweet Pea knew more, knew what had to happen and had guided him through it. Had put aside the differences to help lead and step up when Jughead felt he was floundering.

Sweet Pea focused his gaze on Jughead as he spoke, disregarding the threat- banter could come later. The tone had taken on a serious one and he simply sipped at his beer as he spoke. When Jughead had finished, he remained quiet for a few seconds before taking a large breath and a long sigh. “It was an important event...I wanted to make sure it went correctly because I thought you’d fuck it up. Couldn’t trust you to do it right.” he replied, chewing on his lower lip for a few seconds. Until he ran a hand across his eyes. “But you did good, okay? You took charge, you injected hope and faith and the speech was incredibly fitting- and tell anyone I said this, I’ll knock you sideways but I was proud, okay?” he added, voice quieter as he focused on the grass, not able to meet his gaze as he spoke.

Jughead felt his heart sink at Sweet Pea’s words, not expecting him to be so brutal. It was hard for both of them, but to hear he didn’t have faith in him? He was about to interject until Sweet Pea spoke up once more, only this time it sounded less hostile and more....open. Jughead took a small sip of his beer before clearing his throat. “That means a lot, Sweet Pea. Thank you.” he said, sitting up a little straighter in his seat. “I won’t tell a soul that you actually said a good word about me- jesus, new love must be doing you good?” he added with a small smirk.

Sweet Pea was still staring at the ground, that was until Jughead spoke and thanked him and he managed to look up and meet his gaze once more. It was strange, he didn’t even feel hatred anymore- he could barely remember why he had such resentment for Jughead. It didn’t even seem important anymore, as sad as it was to think, if they hadn’t died would they still be at each other’s throats? He felt a grin stretch across his face, the insinuation of Jughead about him and Reggie made him weak all over. “You really asking me about my love life, Jones? But if you must know, he makes me happy. It’s strange how we just went from enemies to...this. I guess I just got bored punching his face and instead I wanted to kiss it. Funny how the world works.” he said, a genuine smile on his lips. “But it means one war is behind us, there’s still a lot to do and a lot to happen until things are set rightfully but I don’t know, I consider this a good step for us as a family- and with you and Archie as well, I think its the beginning of a new era-”

Jughead wasn’t one to get in the way of romance. It blossomed in strange and weird ways and crept up when least expected. Was it a surprise to him still? Yes. Did he wonder if both had ulterior motives? Of course. And as much as Jughead had his own issues in the past with Reggie it seemed both of them being together was bringing out the better sides of them. “I feel awful now that I kissed him but it makes a hell of a lot of sense on why you looked like you were going to strangle me in my seat. Maybe this is what it took, not just me and Archie being friends but you and Reggie or any other serpent/bulldog/vixen pairing. With everything that has happened it sure helps in getting the town all on the same side. Let’s just hope everyone is on board and can put differences aside.” he replied with a sigh.

Sweet Pea let out a snort, remembering the night of the lock-in and the amount of rage he was holding that night. “I think I was more pissed at our argument earlier that night and it kind of just took the piss with you kissing my sister and my non-boyfriend at the time. Man, fate really had it out for you that night. But I see you got some kisses in yourself loverboy....” he teased, grabbing another beer and tossing his empty to the ground. “Reggie made a public announcement, so here’s hoping it subsides but if you and I and Archie and Reggie are working together it should stop any future bloodshed.” he mused.

Jughead remembered the argument, it was heated and hate-fuelled and nearly ended in them tearing each other to shreds. But Jughead didn’t want to admit that maybe it was some home truths he had been denying. “I’m sorry I went for you about being on the football team, it was petty and stupid. Toni went to the vixens are you’re right, I was being two-faced about it. I guess fate if you want to call it that, decided I had to go through the wringer that night. Or maybe it was bad karma, I don’t know. I may have got kisses, but none of them holds a candle to someone- well that’s not important. It’s complicated.” he murmured, finishing off his beer with a big gulp. “But you were on point with my father and at the time I didn’t want to listen, but with what happened the other day I can’t help but feel something isn’t right. He still isn’t saying anything about why he didn’t help us or give us a heads up and it’s so frustrating!” he grabbed another beer, popping the cap off with ease and drank deeply. It was bothering Jug more than he let on. He just didn’t understand.

Sweet Pea shrugged, already sort of over it. “It’s okay and believe me when I say that. I was harsh and angry and spoke out of anger. At the end of the day, he is your father and I guess I was putting across my own issues onto you and that wasn’t fair. I have no idea why FP is being how he is and I just don’t get it- he was our King before. Loyal, faultless and everything else and it just seems so against him not to give us a heads up. It’s all fucked, I can’t help but feel this is just another way of pushing us to the side and not getting justice for Peaches and Joaquin...” it unnerved him, just how everything was going down. It felt like a move against them. That they still didn't matter despite it being another two dead teenagers.

Jughead could only agree. It was mighty suspicious at best. “I think we’ve both had a misunderstanding of each other, I don’t know much about your past but I’ve picked up enough and the way you care about this club, this family is admirable and I can see how I may have confused that with you being jealous of not being the leader. I didn’t even ask for this, it was just handed to me without consultation and I guess I just wanted to prove myself to him that I didn’t think of the repercussions. You’re a decent guy, Sweet Pea and I admire you and the way you just put everyone first.” it felt like history was being made right now. The way they were speaking, the walls were finally crumbling down and he felt they were getting a clearer view of each other. “I don’t know if was a move to push us further aside but I can assure you, I will not stop until we find out who did this and why. But I can’t do it alone....”

Sweet Pea had held resentment for a while, he had felt it was his right to lead. The things he did, the things he still did to this day just to make sure everyone had at least food on the table and a place to feel safe. But he also realised Jughead was right and neither of them had given the other the chance. Maybe he was getting softer, or maybe he was just done with fighting everything and everyone. “I’ve been more than tough on you, maybe most of it was unneeded. You’ve stepped up every time we've needed you- even if you didn’t ask for it. You’re a good King, I see that now and so does everyone else. You can take this club further and from now on..-” he leant over towards Jughead, holding out his hand. “-you won’t be doing this alone. I got your back. I swear on my life.” he said, finally ready to bury this hatchet and work together. It had all been put into perspective and he didn’t want to lose anyone else.

And there it was. The moment. He didn’t realise how much he needed to hear it and somehow it meant a lot more coming from Sweet Pea than anyone else. Jughead took Sweet Pea’s hand in his, both of them shaking hard. “And I have yours. from this day until my dying day. Let’s nail this fucker to the wall.”

Hands were shaken, bottles were clinked together. That evening the beginning of something new had blossomed and may God have mercy on any soul who tried to get in the way of it.

@jonesingforaburger

#sweet pea #jughead jones #sweet pea solo #//co written by cari and lola

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itshaejinju · 5 years ago

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FF15 - Medicine or Home Remedy Headcanons

Does your character prefer home remedies or over-the-counter medicine? Noctis - So if Ignis isn’t available to buy medicine for Noct he’s in the dark. The boy will be wandering the aisles of the local pharmacy unsure what is what. He knows the basics, aspirin, pepto, ipec but that’s about it. He will not want to bother Ignis so he will text Prompto who just tells him to google it. That sends him to WebMD and he’s panicking about his impending funeral. Seriously Noctis will read all the boxes that he thinks will work and is unsure about homeopathic remedies and store brand medicines. It’s not because he thinks of them lesser than name brands it’s just he doesn’t know if they are good and doesn’t want to go through the effort of going back to the store to get more.

Prompto - The boy uses aspirin for EVERYTHING. He has a giant bottle with him all times amongst the ones the doctor has prescribed to him as a kid. But beyond that he believes the aspirin will heal all. Tummy ache? Aspirin! Headache? Aspirin! Bleeding ulcer? Aspirin! It makes Ignis shake his head as he goes to hand him proper medicine for his ailments.

Ignis - Ignis is very educated with home remedies and otcs, he knows when things are PHD Dr ready and Home Doc ready. He had to learn a lot in preparations to be Noctis’ advisor. For his own personal needs he tends to let the health care lack, tending to his cold only when Gladiolus or Noctis insist on drinking the last of the NyQuil. “It’s just a little sniffle nothing to worry about.” As he just threw up dinner and coughed up a lung. He prefer home remedies as they remind him of his family and the cozy warmth he would feel as they took care of him. They feel more personal and intimate ways of caring for oneself or another. He believes strongly in a good meal and a good nap will cure most ailments.

Gladiolus - Gladiolus is very much for the home remedies and it’s mainly because he’s out and about not able to get decent medical stuff. So he has to rely on home remedies and he knows when something is beyond homeopathic and needs a doctor. He has one doctor he truly trusts and it’s the Amicitia family physician who he calls to get the information he needs or to talk to the doctor he’s visiting. His body is the shield to the Crown Prince it has to be functioning at 100 % all the time. He can’t be dealing with horrible side affects of some antibiotic or painkiller while saving Noctis from the forces of evil. He keeps all this “special” home remedies to himself like he came up with it even though he just googled it. So the others will always be trying to figure out how he got over that cold so quickly. He’s also one to just shove some roots or smelly liquid at your face and tell you to consume it and walk off.

Aranea - Booze solves all the ailments. Like a action packed movie hero she drinks booze after being wounded and pours the remaining sips on her wounds. Aranea isn’t much for treating her wounds until she’s back on her airship safely or home and take care of it by herself. She stitches up her own wounds and bandages herself up. She always has a very intensive medical kit in each one of her hideaways. She shares none of the medicine ever. You could be bleeding out and she would be you are on you own, sweetie. She might toss a bandaid your way, the overly cutesy animal one.

Lunafreya - Luna cannot really use her Oracle powers to help herself out. She was always taught to use home remedies versus medicine because the chemicals and such could cause some bad side affects to her powers. Whether or not that’s true she never really took anything not even aspirin for a headache, just chewed on some feverfew. She would advise others on how it was better to always try home remedies instead of jumping to the doctors for ailments. Of course her followers would listen to her, someone tried to market off her words and made to build a Oracle Approved Home Remedy line which she had to squash. Despite she had always wanted to do something like that once she married Noctis.

Nyx - He’s resourceful a perfect mix of home remedies and medicine. When he’s out on the field he can bandage up himself and ease the pains with things he has nearby or what’s available at the closest shop. When gets home and cleaned up he will pop over to the Crownsguard Hospital and get himself checked out, the nurses and doctors are generally in awe for how well he’s patched together.

Regis - Regis goes to the doctor for everything major the “minor” stuff headaches and 24hr bugs he toughs it out. The council is pretty much the reason why he does go to the doctor often, he is the king and does a lot of work for the people so he must be tended to by the top medicine. Sometimes Clarus has to force him to go to the doctors or remind him to take the medicine if he is feeling better and is suppose to take all the pills.

Clarus - He rarely gets sick so when he does he just hits up the local pharmacy at gets whatever is on sale that basically fits his ailments. He keeps his body a “well tuned machine” as he boasts to anyone as his eldest son sneezes at the slightest amount of dust. (Poor Gladdy)

Ardyn - Like Lunafreya his Oracle powers doesn’t really heal him but as his body has shifted some the rules bend. So medicine doesn’t do much for him now as his power heals him up but he will fool the masses by doing home remedies as needed to keep up the illusions.

Ravus - He finds comfort in going to the doctors, he finds the clinical way people do their surgeries, make their decisions so quick without little visible empathy makes him envious of that skill. It’s how he would like to say he runs his troops. There was a time as a kid he wanted to be a doctor but that dream was squashed early. He likes how he can take pills to easily fix problems, it can frustrate him at times that he wishes other life problems could be solved so easily as just taking a pill. Home remedies are time consuming and never give him clear results he sneers at those who boast about them but will not mock them as his dear sister relies on those methods too much.

@rubyphilomela @zacklover24 @stephicness @mandakatt @nykamito-x @hanalwayssolo

#ff15 #ffxv #headcanon #my writing #noctis lucis caelum #prompto argentum #ignis scientia #gladiolus amicitia #regis lucis caelum #ardyn izunia #clarus amicitia #ravus nox fleuret #lunafreya nox fleuret #nyx ulric #aranea #final fantasy 15 #final fantasy xv

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nightwhip · 5 years ago

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭. it was a beautiful funeral --- nova has never seen so many peoples come together to honor one person before. for as far as the eye could see there were wet eyes and heavy hearts from a variety of species as naboo said goodbye to alrish. from the moment she held his dying body in her arms until now, she’s felt like a ghost. when she finally found the strength in her legs to stand up and leave the room in which he’d been killed ; when she began making preparations for his service ; as she walked alongside his hovering body on its way to the burial. tears have been shed, oh, there has been so many tears, but she’s felt an immense disconnect. often times she finds herself wondering if this is really happening, if her brother is really dead, or if this is a nightmare. perhaps even a vision from the force of something awful about to happen. but each night that she goes to sleep only to awaken the next morning with nothing changing, she becomes more and more aware of the painful reality.

𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞.

the last of his things have been packed away save for a few personal items that she just can’t let go of. all of it fits into a single box, and it is beside her as she stares up at the palace. growing up, she loved how spacious it was. always so full of people, busy with whatever schedule of the day must be followed. she would love to run through the long hallways, admire how the sun would spill in through the windows and the archways of the foundation, giggling as alrish followed close behind. he never could quite catch up to her. now it feels so terribly lonely that she doesn’t want to set one foot inside the threshold. so she stands barefoot in the grass, looking up at the now haunting visage of her home as the darkness of night looms overhead and the stars twinkle faintly in the distance. in her hand, the small hand-made doll that he gifted her as an infant. as tears well in her eyes she hugs it to her chest, trying to siphon even the least bit of comfort ; it doesn’t work. in fact, it hurts all the more.

other bodies stand idly behind her --- the once knights have all come to give her their support. consumed by grief, only able to feel the new absence, she can’t bring herself to appreciate it as she knows she should. could she feel anything other than the pain, she would be so grateful to them. her found family ; they will always be there for her, she knows, and she for them. for the first time since he died, she feels the briefest glimmer of something other than suffering. as soon as it comes, it’s gone.

kneeling, she opens the box of alrish’s belongings and tucks the doll inside. a hand rises to wipe away at the stray tears that have fallen from her eyes. flicking away the moisture from her finger, she stands, silently eyes the palace a few moments longer. behind her there is shuffling, gentle breathing ; perhaps they are feeling restless, unnerved by the prolonged period of silence from her. worry isn’t necessary --- they can, after all, feel everything she feels and sense every thought she has.

𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠.

fighting the tsunami of tears that threatens to break free, she holds out one of her hands. the fingers are outstretched and curled around her palm. soon enough, a light sparks from the very center, and it grows, and grows, and grows. heat prickles along her skin as the flame crawls up her bare arm, but it doesn’t burn. in fact, it’s almost soothing. mere seconds pass by before the fire that engulfs her arm is lighting up their secluded area, glowing amidst the black. a happy home turned to something she can hardly bear to look at, she finds she would much prefer to watch as it burns to the ground. all the loving memories turned to ash with it.

“nova... what are you doing?” “what does it look like?” she laughs dryly, “i am going to set this place ablaze and watch as it burns.” “i don’t think you really want to do that.” “i do. i really do.” “this is your home.” “it was.” “it still is. alrish wouldn’t want you to -” “he isn’t here. he’s dead.”

nova whirls around, stray hairs catching her wet cheeks and sticking. she frustratedly pushes them away, dragging her free palm along her face in the process. still generating fire, she is careful not to point it at any of them.

“it doesn’t matter what alrish would or wouldn’t want. he isn’t here to stop me. he isn’t here to hold my hand and walk me through tough decisions. he isn’t here to be my big brother anymore. there is no protecting me from this. so, i think that i am free to act on my grief however i please.”

much to her amazement, her voice remains even with each word leaving her lips.

“grief... exactly. this is just the grief talking. you don’t really want to burn the palace. your entire life is here.” she shakes her head, looking at each of them through the blur of tears. they now stream freely down her face with no sign of stopping. “that’s right. my life is here. a lifetime of memories that do nothing but bring me pain now. i don’t want to think of my parents hard at work within the palace walls. i don’t want to think of my brother and i playing on these grounds as children. i don’t want to think about abbhol visiting and bringing ivet and all of us being under the care of castor while my parents are too busy. i don’t want,” now her voice shrinks and trembles, her chin quivering along with it, “i don’t want any of it anymore. it all hurts so bad to think about. i want these memories gone and if i have to turn the palace into ash to be rid of them, so be it.”

destroying the place where she grew up and built all of those memories won’t make them vanish. she knows that --- they are here to stay, as is the pain, but the palace stands as one massive reminder. maybe if she can no longer see it she no longer needs to feel the constant ache in her chest, no longer needs to feel the ghosts she carries with her in the now much too empty corridors. anything to dull the pain. anything to not feel like this anymore. maker, she wants this to end.

nova turns back, lips pulled over her teeth in a grimace, and aims her hand at the outer wall of her home. to shoot the fire within her hand forward and watch as the flames lick and devour every inch of the palace would be so easy. all it would take is willing herself forward. all she needs to do is beckon the force from within... watch it light up...

𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐢𝐭.

for all the agony she is in and how badly she wishes to kill it all and leave it behind, she can’t bring herself to do it. there’s a tense and strain in her fingers, shaking in her arm ; she’s releasing the hold with a grunt, and the flame extinguishes as she doubles over, letting out the wails that she’s been suppressing since moments after he died. body being rocked with her cries, she holds to her knees for some support. she can hear her name from behind --- so pitiful, so apologetic.

“NO!” she screams, turning so fast it almost hurts her neck. “no! don’t say anything! nothing! i don’t want to hear it! i should just be able to do it! i want to do it!” that she is rambling and only partially making sense, she doesn’t care. her throat is already sore from the yelling and crying, and a rhythmic pound begins between her temples. wracked by another sob, she allows herself to fall to her knees along the grass, and her fingers dig into the dirt.

𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞. 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐞.

“i want it to stop. i just want it to stop. please... please make it stop.” around the massive knot in her throat and the repetitive sobs, she doesn’t sound like herself. she sounds broken and defeated, very unlike her usual state. but she is broken and defeated. the galaxy has at least beat her, and she can’t quite bring herself to get up one last time. “everyone is dead,” she sobs, hiccups, and sobs. “my entire family... everyone i have ever loved... they’re all... they’re all dead! everyone’s dead! and i can’t --- i can’t, i can’t --- i can’t feel like this forever. p-please, just... oh, force, it hurts so bad i -- can’t breathe, i --”

ivet, kiza and hoc, abbhol, castor, alrish... even kalimax. nothing but memories, faces she once knew. the goal was to be rid of them even if temporarily, now they are all at the forefront of her mind, and she can’t take it.

𝐢𝐟 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐫? 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝, 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫... 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐨.

#ic. // drabble #OOOOOOOOF #this took a lot out of me #long post cw #death tw #grief tw #i cried writing this. a lot #it aint easy being the angst queen

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the-everlasting-dream · 6 years ago

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Xin Teng - Liam x MC [x Drake], TRR AU

Part 2 of Unfathomable

Summary: The day they were supposed to have the funeral

A/N: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE HEED THE TRIGGER WARNINGS!! We will be going into explicit confronting material about sensitive topics that can be triggering.

Word Count: 4426

Warnings: Blood, mentions of death, miscarriage, description of injury, angst, grief.

Permanent tags: @choicessa, @meeraaverywalker , @drakewalkerwhipped , @thewolvesss , @mfackenthal , @srawesleyghuewrites , @topsyturvy-dream , @enmchoices , @gardeningourmet @debramcg1106 , @alesana45 , @meladoridarcy, @blackcatkita , @tmarie82 , @annekebbphotography , @lizk77 , @jayjay879 , @tornbetween2loves , @akrenich , @theroyalweisme , @likethetailofacomet , @sleepwalkingelite , @littleblossom-18 , @ooo-barff-ooo TRR only: @speedyoperarascalparty , @carabeth ,

Unfathomable AU tags: @akrenich , @hopefulmoonobject , @wannabemc2 , @romanticheart-posts , @bobasheebaby , @sstee1 , @mrsdrakewalkerblog @furiousherringoperatortoad , @indicater , @h3llostrang3r , @innerpostmentality , @queencatherynerhys , @innerpostmentality , @drakewalkerisreal ,

Xinteng

noun 心疼 Chinese

The Literal translation of heartache. The particular kind of sadness and pain that comes from witnessing and sharing the pain of people you love.

Liam stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his collar. Today wasn’t going to be easy.

Today he had to farewell his best friend of more years than he could count. There was nothing that could have prepared him for it. In his mind, Drake would have always been a part of his future, his best friend, trusted advisor and maybe even a member of the royal council, if he managed to talk him into it. Drake had been such a permanent fixture in his life, it was a core fact that he just knew. They would have been brothers for life, supporting each other until well after they were old and grey, there was no question about it and he had no reason to think otherwise until… now..

The reality of it finally seemed to hit him hard as he donned his outfit for the funeral — a suit, all black — doing up each button seemed to take a colossal effort. His own blue eyes, hollow and stared back at him as he relived the thoughts and feelings of the last few days. The day they switched off the life support would haunt him forever, he knew that. It had been almost a week and he still felt everything so viscerally, almost like he was living it all again. Everything… Holding Elizabeth’s sobbing body as she tried to claw at the doctors... feeling frustration so intense he wanted to scream and never stop... begging and pleading with Drake to come back... feeling his pulse ebb away when he didn’t….

The emptiness was the worst… emptiness that ate at him, slowly crawling its way under his skin to hollow out everything that could make him feel okay again… He marvelled at the immense impact that one person had, it was almost like Drake’s presence had left a huge hole in his soul that he had no idea how to begin to fill. Sadness, pain and anger reared their ugly heads again inside him, tussling for which one would gain control over what was left of him.

God Drake why did you have to-

The door opened abruptly and Liam brushed at the hot tears that has escaped him as his father's reflection appeared in the mirror. He clenched his jaw, willing himself to regain his composure, taking a deep breath before turning to face the other man.

‘Father.’ His tone was cool.

‘Son,’ Constantine replied in kind, eyes travelling over Liam’s figure ‘I see you’re ready for today… I can only imagine how tough this must be for you.'

He was dancing around the subject — a subtle shift in his figure was enough to betray his ruse. Liam had to bite his cheek to prevent his face from morphing into disgust at his father’s gall to hide his ulterior motive for their conversation under the false pretence of affection.

‘You’ve obviously come here to say something, Father,’ he replied, his tone measured as the tension between them thickened. ‘Just when I thought you’d come to comfort me on the day of my best friend’s funeral… I suppose I shouldn’t have been so generous with my assumptions.’

‘I suppose there’s not point beating around the bush..’ the old man replied, easing himself into the armchair. ‘Have you spoken to Duchess Elizabeth?’

Liam scoffed, adjusting his cufflinks. ‘What do you think?'

‘Don’t take that smart tone with me, boy,’ Constantine replied, voice restrained with fury. ‘The future of our country is at stake. We do not have the luxury of time. And I will not stand to see it be ruined by your indecision.'

A deep rage flared up in Liam. 'For Pete’s sake, he was my best friend!’ He roared, not caring if he was heard throughout the palace. 'She’s his lover and today is his funeral. How can you possibly want me to bring up the subject of marriage?'

'Liam I know its not ideal but we have to think of the future of our country,’ Constantine told him firmly, unperturbed by the outburst. 'Waiting is not a luxury one has as a monarch. The people look to the crown for stability. Duchess Elizabeth is the best insurance of that.’

He shut his eyes, swallowing hard, trying to keep his conflicting emotions at bay, like he’d done for all his life. ‘Why does it have to be her Father? Why are you so adamant that I marry her? Olivia, Madeleine, Hana Lee, hell even Kiara Castelsareillan or Penelope Portavira would be perfectly suitable for the role. Why do you insist on Elizabeth?’

His father was already shaking his head. ‘You really want me to list it out for you? Fine. I’m sure I don’t need to reiterate how brash Olivia Nevrakis is, the people will never accept a Nevrakis on the throne, particularly after her parents’ betrayal. As for Lady Hana, there’s no denying she’s talented but the poor girl has no control over her feelings, anyone with eyes could see that she’s incapable of being with a man.’

Liam noted the bitterness on his father’s face after voicing that as Constantine continued. ‘If you hadn't made such a public spectacle of ending your engagement with Madeleine, perhaps we could have salvaged something of this mess, but nooo you had to announce it publicly.. Let's face it the other two are addled idiots anyway. Do I need to go on?’

He ignored the withering look his father gave him, turning away stubbornly. ‘Why can’t we just call for another season? Surely I-‘

‘Think Liam,’ his father hissed venomously. ‘Our royal court was just attacked in the palace, supposedly the most secure place in the country. The people are shaken, its only a matter of time before they come stampeding to the gates with torches and pitchforks, calling for our heads. We need a solution to this and now. Cordonia needs stability not the king spending their precious funds to pander to his indecision when the perfect candidate seems to exist already. As much as I hate to admit it, your precious duchess holds the people's favour something we desperately need right now after her performance during the social season. To them she represents stability and hope, two things even you have to recognise we are running short on.'

Though he could understand his underlying reasoning, Liam couldn’t believe the words coming from the man he called his father. Did he seriously expect him to ask the love of his life to marry him on today of all days? How was he to even think of proposing to Elizabeth when Drake was barely in his coffin?

'Am I not allowed one day to grieve? To cry? To be a man first then a king?'

‘Liam, like it or not you are the crown now. Everything you do is reflection of the crown’s intentions.’ Constantine was on his feet now, glaring back at him. 'You took a vow to protect this country and I will not stand by and watch you run it to ruin. If I have to take it into my own hands, so be it.’

Liam narrowed his eyes. ‘Is that a threat?'

‘I am not afraid to defend my country. By any means necessary.'

Tension crackled in the air around them. Both men stood toe to toe, locked in a standoff pulled to full height, Liam over his father by a few inches who glared back defiantly. His mouth was already opening to reprimand him when —

‘Your Majest-'

‘What?!’ He bellowed at the young footman that opened the door, not taking his eyes off Constantine. ‘Can’t you see I’m occupied!?’

‘A-a-apologised Y-your M-majesty, it-its-its-,' The poor boy sputtered in terror unable to speak clearly.

‘Well?’ Liam demanded impatiently, turning his head to zero in on him.

‘I-Its the Duchess!’ The boy finally burst out. ‘She’s locked herself in her room and she won’t come out!’

‘This is preposterous! The stupid girl is having a temper tantrum,’ Constantine scoffed Liam spun on his heel, grabbing his father by the collar, rage in every word. ‘Speak one more word about Elizabeth and I’ll have you hanged for treason.’

Ignoring his father’s protest, Liam ran.

His feet traced the steps to Elizabeth’s room of their own accord, shoving past staff members, barely acknowledging their grunts of annoyance and cries of surprise at their king dashing through the hallways like the devil himself was on his heels. No, he only had one objective in mind.

Elizabeth. Elizabeth. Why the hell was her room so far away?

Rounding the corner, he found himself standing at the locked door to her suite, Mara and the other servants pounding on the barrier. ‘Your Majesty we tried everything. We sent for a lock smith but she’s got something over the door on the inside,’ Mara reported, her hands red raw. ‘We’ve got security ready to scale the outside of the building, to come through the window.’

’Tell them to stand down,’ he ordered. ‘I’ll handle this.’

The bodyguard did not look pleased but nodded once, raising a hand to her earpiece.

‘Elizabeth?’ Liam called out, placing a hand on the door. ‘Its me… Its.. Liam. Are you okay?’

There was no response. Liam frowned in confusion. This was highly uncharacteristic of the Elizabeth Richmond he knew. Or maybe he didn’t know her as well as he thought...

‘Elizabeth, open up,’ his voice was more urgent now, unable to keep his mind from conjuring up the worst images.

He raked over memories of the past days, trying to find something, anything that would clue him into why she was acting like this. He immediately cursed himself. How could she not be herself given all that had happened? But still he needed to know, he needed to see her with his own two eyes to make sure she was okay. And with every second that ticked by, the conclusions he was jumping to seemed to be worse and worse.

‘Please. Elizabeth. Its Liam.’ Still nothing.

‘Leave me alone with her,’ Liam ordered before turning back to the door. 'Liz… please… Open up. I just… need to know that you’re okay…’

He rested his head against the door and a faint sob could be heard through the wood. Alarm came flooding back into his face, galvanising him.

‘Elizabeth open up or I’ll break the door down if I have to.’

Liam’s senses tingled, strained to detect some sign, any thing to dissuade him. Receiving none, he sighed in resignation, before aimed a powerful kick at the door to the suite. His blow held so much force it struck the the offending — a chair — that had been holding the door shut and stepping over it, his eyes moved frantically over the unmade bed and seemly empty room.

The sound of another sob turned his head towards the closed door of the bathroom and springing it open, found Elizabeth lying in foetal position on the bathroom floor. He immediately moved to drop to his knees beside her before he slipped suddenly. He reflexively flung a hand out to support himself against the toilet bowl. After sufficiently steadying himself, he drew his hand back only to find it covered in… crimson.

The dart of relief that was forming in his chest immediately vanished as Liam’s blue eyes took in the entire scene where the floor was covered in blood all originating from… Elizabeth's voice was softer than a whisper and coarse than sandpaper as she turned her fractured gaze to his, tears welling in her eyes.

‘I… I-I… He.. Drake...’ She choked on his name, fresh sobs erupting from her body. Her hand clutched the toilet, leaving a smear of blood in its place before her arm gave out and she collapsed onto the floor, lacking the strength to even hold herself upright. ‘There’s so much blood…’ She croaked brokenly, eyes unfocused as she scanned the scene around her. 'W-why is there so much blood?'

Her words broke Liam out of his frozen stupor. ‘Elizabeth,’ His voice was hoarse as his mind slowly pieced together what had happened. Unable to tears his eyes away from the pool of red seeping out from under her legs, he swallowed hard, staring at his bloodstained hand. ‘You… you were…’

Pregnant...

She shut her eyes, hissing slightly as the word hung in their air between them. ‘He didn’t know Liam. He… I-He died without knowing I…’ She wouldn’t finish without breaking into tears again and lost for words, Liam gathered her up into his arms as she wept, unable to stop big tears rolling down his face, knowing he only knew a sliver of what she was going through right now.

On the day of the funeral too…

His heart went out to her and the unfathomable suffering she was experiencing. He felt so infinitely useless, unable to provide any other comfort so he clutched her closer, as if the tighter he held on the more likely her pain would go away. He was painfully aware that there was nothing he could say or do that would ever be able to rectify what had just happened. So he held her on that bathroom, he held her close as she cried into his new black suit, blood staining both their outfits. Liam’s own emotions had worked up a storm inside him but he pushed them down for her sake. He couldn’t lose it too. Suddenly Elizabeth cried out as if in pain as more fluid began to leak onto the floor and when her skin touched his, the contact burned his skin. She felt scorching hot to the touch despite the shivers that wracked her body.

Liam cursed himself for not realising this sooner and shouted for a maid.

‘Prepare the motorcade and have them ready to transport the duchess and I to the hospital. And bring Lady Hana here immediately,’ he commanded the girl who’s eyes were as wide as dinner plates at the sight. ‘Breathe a word of this to anyone and I will personally ensure that you live to regret it.’

She bobbed once in compliance and rushed off.

‘C’mon Elizabeth,’ he encouraged softly after god knows how much time had passed. ‘It’s going to be okay.. Its going to be okay.’

He had no way of knowing if it was going to be okay, he had no idea what would happen next but he couldn’t let her know the panic he was feeling. He shifted her hot body in his arms, worry seeping deeper into him. How long had she been like this? Surely it couldn’t have been good to lie on the bathroom floor - as clean as it may be - in this state. Liam had little medical knowledge but what if she’d caught some bacterial infection or something? She could be at risk for something serious and he had no idea.

‘Someone get the doctor immediately,’ he bellowed, shifting Elizabeth again, her temperature soaring as she attempted to curl closer into herself.

Through the panic he was feeling, Liam remembered vaguely that his mother had put him under a cold shower when he’d had a fever as a child to lower his temperature. He had no way of knowing if that was medically but he had to try.

‘C’mon Elizabeth,’ he repeated. ‘I’m going to put you into the shower. We- we… I don’t know what I’m doing..’ Liam ran a bloodstained hand through his hair, not caring for his personal wellbeing, attention solely focused on getting her up and into the shower. 'Let’s get you cleaned up.’

Elizabeth made a noise of reluctance but eventually allowed him to lift her to her feet. He had just managed to coax her into the shower when Hana’s voice called out for him.

‘In here,’ he yelled back from under the cold shower where he was holding Elizabeth, still fully clothed as he tried to keep his eyes off the blood that was draining off both of them. Hana appeared in the doorway instantaneously, a gasp escaping her at the sight before her eyes, scanning the mess in the bathroom. For a moment her lower lip wavered and Liam was doubting his decision to have her here before she straightened her posture and stepped into the bathroom, avoiding the puddles of blood and fluid on the ground.

‘Here let me,’ she reached for Elizabeth and Liam was only too glad to ease her into her arms. ‘The doctor is on the way.'

As Liam was exiting the bathroom to let Hana rinse her, his eyes caught sight of the toilet, where something bobbed in the bloodstained water..

This time Liam was unable to control his initial reaction, his stomach turning itself inside out, heaving its contents into the nearest rubbish bin. Swiping the back of his hand over his mouth, he stumbled out of the bathroom, surely leaving red footprints in his wake but in his stupor, he was barely able to think straight.

‘Your Majesty-‘ Bastein and Mara were at the suite door, wide eyed at the blood on his clothes but he waved them off. ‘Where’s that fucking doctor?’

‘Right here Your Majesty, apologies for the delay,’ a woman stepped up and Liam couldn’t speak, merely pointing to Elizabeth's room.

‘Your Majesty you don’t look-'

‘Madeleine!’ Liam bellowed, ignoring all attempts at his own wellbeing.

The blonde woman materialised at the threshold with her ever enigmatic expression. ‘You called Your Majesty?’

‘Postpone the funeral. And clear my schedule for today and tomorrow.’

‘What am I your personal assistant?’ She scoffed, clearly unified by his stormy expression.

‘I am your king,’ Liam growled, authority clear in his tone. ‘You will do as I say.’ The blonde woman nodded once and disappeared and he glanced at the crowd of servants gathered there watching the scene.

'Breathe a word of this to anyone and I’ll make sure you all pay for it,’ he snarled, registering the fear in their eyes before they scattered.

He sank down into a nearby chaise, his head dropping into his hands and Liam wept...

He cried for Elizabeth, for the inexplicable pain she was feeling at losing not one but two people in such a short space of time. He wept for the child who would have been, who would have grown up to be a tiny copy of their father, a strength to their mother and comfort that the man she loved was still with her in some way. He wept for Drake who would never get to have the family he wanted and surely deserved, a life cut short by the sharp and unforgiving knife of fate. Feeling a synonymous sense of shame, Liam wept for himself too, for what he was expected to do for his country at the price of one woman’s happiness and stability.

He did not know how long he sat there, eyes staring blankly at the tiles, brushing off any and all attempt to comfort him until the servants bustled by barely taking notice of their king sitting so still he could have been a statue. His father’s word echoed back to him, about the need for stability and harmony through his marriage to Elizabeth but Liam knew now that he would never be able to ask that of her. The opinions of the people be damned, he thought angrily. They could change and they would. He’d marry someone else Olivia or even Kiara maybe, both who would be fine queens and —

The door creaked open to reveal the doctor stepping out and Liam immediately stood up, giving her an expectant look. Her expression turned apologetic.

‘As you are aware, Your Majesty Duchess Elizabeth has had a miscarriage. It is difficult to say how far along she was but my best guess would be less than three months.’

The words shook him to his core.. Three months ago would have been around the time of the homecoming ball, after he had broken off his engagement to Madeleine, he reasoned. Liam felt his stomach drop, he had no idea Elizabeth and Drake were so involved together at that point, in fact he had no idea of it until he’d seen her at his bedside before what he had suspected finally clicked into place. His stomach twisted into a tighter knot at the next words.

‘You found her when she was mid way through passing the pregnancy tissue. Fever, chills, severe abdominal and uterine pain are common with a miscarriage like this one. It is hard to say whether she has contracted some kind of infection from sitting unprotected on the floor but I have briefed Lady Hana on the symptoms and she knows to contact a doctor should Her Grace be experiencing this.’

‘How is she now?’ Liam’s tongue felt thick in his mouth as he fought to swallow the doctor’s words.

‘The rest of the pregnancy tissue should pass out in the next few days and there’s nothing I can do to make that process any faster. It is a matter of time. But for now she needs to rest Your Majesty. I would recommend bedrest for the next day or two and no strenuous activity while her body recovers. I have given her painkillers to help with the pain. She will require an ultrasound to ensure all the pregnancy tissue has been expelled and another checkup in about 4-6 weeks time.'

He hadn’t realised how tense he was until the doctor placed a hand on his arm in comfort.

‘It’s a tough thing to recover from but Her Grace has a good support system. She just needs people to be with her to remind her that she doesn’t have to do this alone. None of you do.’

Liam nodded, hearing the doctor’s message. ‘I understand. Can I-can I see her?’ ‘Her Grace is resting but a few minutes wouldn’t hurt,’ the doctor �� Dr Jaya Da Silva as her name badge read — smiled sadly, pausing for a moment before speaking again. ‘Go be with her. In times like these, you need hope. You need to give her that hope Your Majesty because in the end that’s all we have. Everyone knows Duchess Elizabeth has a way of pulling through in the end, you just need to remind her of it.’

He nodded once and turned to the room door where two maids with cleaning supplies were exiting. Unbidden his eyes flew to a small black plastic bag one of them was holding and his stomach turned violently, threatening to hurl at the sight of it.

That was…

Liam squeezed his eyes shut, wiping his sweaty palms on the front of his blazer — a gesture his stepmother would have surely chastised him for — and took a deep breath, willing the calmness people associated his kingly persona to return. Elizabeth lay on the bed, curled into ball, dark hair tangled across the pillows as Hana tucked her in. She barely acknowledged his presence, her eyes glassy and vacant, fixated loosely on the wall. He winced at the sight, taking in her bloodshot gaze and how her hands hadn’t quite stopped shaking.

‘Elizabeth…’ Her name slipped from his lips, as if it was never really meant for him. His mouth opened and shut a few times, at a loss for words. "How are you feeling?” wouldn’t really cut it in this situation; he could not even begin to understand the pain she must be in.

‘You postponed the funeral,’ she said finally, almost in an accusatory tone. ‘Why?’

Liam sighed, running a hand through his hair. ‘Elizabeth... you can’t. You’re in no condition to..’

‘I can,’ she retorted, struggling to push herself up on one hand. ‘I can and I will.’

‘The doctor ordered bedrest, she said it would take a while for-‘

‘I don’t care! Stop. Stop it okay!’ She was in a sitting position now, glaring at him with a venom that he’d never seen before. ‘It needs to go on, I have to… I have to… I want to see him laid to rest.. I wanna see him one more time before-‘ Her voice gave way to sobs.

‘Elizabeth…You’ve already gone through so much today. You need to rest.’

‘I need to see him Liam,’ she was crying again, loud, messy sobs as huge globs of snot flowed out of her nose but she swiped it away with her hand before holding up a menacing finger towards him. ‘Fuck you and your entitled ass for not letting me.’

He opened his mouth to reply but she cut him off. ‘Tell them the funeral is back on Liam. Tell them or I’ll never speak to you again.’

'If it comes to that, so be it.’

She yelled at him, screamed, cursed him with every profanity under the sun, swearing on all she knew to be sacred that she would never forgive him but Liam stood his ground. He dragged his blue eyes to her dark ones, knowing she was in extreme pain and it was just the grief talking. She was already unstable, if he did as she said… who knew if she would ever recover.

‘Hate me all you want,’ Liam continued in a voice he did not recognise as his own. ‘I’m only doing this for you own good.’

‘You fucking bastard!’ she yelled back as she struggled to get to her feet, before giving way to a sharp cry of pain, her hand flying to her abdomen. Hana immediately rushed to her side but Elizabeth swatted her away. ‘Get off me, let me go Hana!'

The other woman turned her pleading eyes on Liam, begging him to relent so that Elizabeth would be calmed but he stood his ground.

‘So help me Elizabeth if I need to lock you in this room I will.’

What was happening to him? He sounded just like his father, placing this innocent woman in even more pain. But Liam had no choice, he had to do what he felt was right.

‘I’m doing this for your own good,’ he replied forlornly as she collapsed back on the bed in exhaustion. Shutting the door behind him, Liam leaned against the wood, closing his eyes as tears rolled down his cheeks, hating himself for what he just did. The sound of her protests filtered to him as the echo of his father’s words sprang to his mind, both battling on his conscience. Elizabeth was already in so much pain.

How could he burden her with the crown too?

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broadwayficsandmore-blog · 7 years ago

Text

Beautifully Broken

A/N: This is my first attempt at a fanfic, I hope you like it and feel free to send me requests for anything! Also the reader gets a glimpse at April’s bedroom and the descriptions match my room exactly so sorry bout that. This is Chapter 5 of I dunno how many. You can find Chapter 1 here Chapter 2 here Chapter 3 here Chapter 4 here

Also shoutout to @go-andneverlookback for giving me the inspiration for this chapter from one of her posts that included a DEH headcanon.

TW: Swearing, Mentions of dead parents (idk if that deserves a TW but I’m putting it in there)

Word Count: 2,808

Chapter 5: The Sorting Hat

Connor watched you hurry into the kitchen with your head down and your arms crossed tightly over your stomach, like you were trying to hold yourself together. He didn’t know your parents were both dead, how the fuck was he supposed to know that? He turned slowly towards the other two in the room.

“You could’ve warned me!” Connor whisper shouted at them, “I wouldn’t have brought that up if I had known.” He ran his hands through his hair, tugging at the ends, clearly frustrated.

“She...she doesn’t like talking about it very much. I only know because she and I have been friends since we were seven.” Evan was picking at his cast as he spoke, the topic clearly made him uncomfortable.

“I had just become friends with her when her dad passed,” Jared started, “Look, April is someone who keeps all her problems to herself. I bet most of the teachers at school don’t even know her parents are both dead. If you want to talk to her about it, that’s fine. Just be prepared for her to shut down, it’s what she does.” Connor was shocked by how serious Jared looked when he spoke, he’s never seen this side of him before.

“What do you mean she shuts down?” Connor asks quietly, not wanting you to hear from the other room. Evan and Jared looked at each other for a moment, as if debating what details they could share and what details were sacred.

“She just stops. She won’t speak, she won’t move, sometimes she doesn’t even blink. She doesn’t cry, she doesn’t scream, she doesn’t do anything. She literally shuts down,” Jared began explaining, “I’ve only seen it twice. And one of those times was at her father’s funeral. Everyone was hugging her and giving condolences and she just….stood there. Lifeless. Like a statue.” Jared was staring at the floor as he spoke, his face twisting into an array of emotions.

“She….she’s really happy and bubbly and she’s great at helping people. No one would ever guess she’s...she’s been through so much, ya know?” Evan made eye contact with Connor before finishing, “But maybe that’s why she’s so kind and caring. Because….because kind people are kind since they know firsthand that life isn’t. And….and the reason she doesn’t like to bring...bring up her parents is because she says people look at her...differently? Like they look at her with pity in their eyes or something? And she just...she doesn’t want that.” Evan was scanning Connor’s face for some sort of sign that he understood what he’d just heard. Connor slowly nodded, chewing on his lip as he contemplated what to say. Just then, you came through the door looking like your usual, perky self.

“Alright, losers,” you said as you put a tray of drinks and snacks on the coffee table, “What are we watching?” You flopped down on the couch next to Evan, acting totally normal. Connor walked over to the couch and decided to sit on the floor.

“Not one of those shitty horror films, pleaseeeeee” Jared groaned as he opened a bag of gummy worms.

“But the fact that they’re so bad makes them so good!” Evan shot back defensively. Connor whipped his head around to stare at him.

“Wait,” Connor began, staring at Evan intently, “You’re telling me the epitome of anxiety likes horror movies? Seriously?” Evan sunk slightly in his seat, clearly not liking all the attention he was getting. You started giggling and Evan shot you a look of betrayal before sinking even further into the couch cushions.

“Oh, come on,” you said between giggles, “it can’t be that hard to believe! Aren’t we all full of little surprises?” Connor slowly raised an eyebrow at you.

“I’m not,” he muttered bluntly before turning around and picking through the snacks on the table.

“How about Harry Potter? Everyone likes Harry Potter,” you suggest, glancing at all three boys expectantly. All the boys agreed and you got up to put on the first movie in the series. The four of you watched the movie, all enjoying the familiarity of the story. When the film ended, you stretched your arms and heard a loud grumble from the stomach to your left.

“Evan are you hungry or are you secretly part bear?” You teased, poking him in the stomach. He flinched and slapped your hand away.

“Wanna order pizza?” Jared suggested.

“I’ve had pizza for two days, soooo how bout Chinese?” All the boys agreed and you got up to head to the kitchen where the take out menus were. “Okay, what do you guys want?” you asked as you laid the menu down on the counter. Evan answered without even glancing at the menu.

“Orange chicken with fried rice, thanks”

“I’ll have general tsos with white rice,” Jared said as he passed the menu over to Connor. Connor scanned the menu for a minute before telling you he wanted lo mein noodles. You pulled out your phone and ordered the boys food along with mapo tofu for yourself and sesame chicken for your sister. When you finished ordering, you noticed Evan rubbing his bare arms like he was cold.

“You sweatshirt is hanging in my closet if you wanna run upstairs and grab it,” you suggested. Evan gave you a gracious smile before heading for the stairs. You glanced at Connor and noticed his eyebrows were furrowed slightly. You didn’t have long to contemplate his expression before Jared was beginning a tangent.

“I seriously don’t understand why Draco Malfoy is proud to be a Slytherin! Gryffindor is clearly the best house, that’s why I’m in it,” you snorted at his comment.

“What’s the best house?” Evan asked as he came back in the kitchen, wearing his forest green hoodie with his hands stuffed in the pocket.

“Gryffindor, obviously!” Jared exclaimed, gesturing to himself. “You’re a Hufflepuff, right?” Evan nodded, suddenly appearing very self conscious.

“A house for nervous wrecks, that’s the house for me,” Evan chuckled slightly at his self deprecating joke.

“It’s not a house for nervous wrecks,” Connor speaks in a monotone, but that doesn’t stop from all eyes turning to him. “It’s a house for kids who are stubborn but accepting, it’s for people who like to hang out in libraries and get yelled at for being too loud. It’s for the kind of person who blends into the background but notices everything around them.” Connor spoke while staring at his hands on the counter. After a few moments he glanced up to find all three of you staring.

“So you’re an artist and a poet? Every girl would love you!” Jared teased, lightly punching Connor in the shoulder.

“Okay, ignoring Jared,” you said while rolling your eyes, before turning to Evan. “Connor’s right. When I think Hufflepuff I think a cool breeze in summertime, and pastel colored walls, shooting stars, and growing as a person. Yeah, Hufflepuffs are stereotyped as being too carefree or immature, but I think there’s more to them than that. I think there’s more to all the houses. I mean, I’m a Ravenclaw and we’re all stereotyped as being wicked smart and studious, but you know how shitty I am at studying.” Evan laughed, he knew firsthand how distracted you were when it came to actually sitting down and doing homework.

“Yeah, and Gryffindors are supposed to super courageous and tough, but I still cry every time I watch Bambi” Jared added with a small smirk.

“What house are you, Connor?” Evan asked, only hesitating slightly. Connor blinked slowly, like a child waking up from a nap.

“I don’t know, Slytherin?” he shrugged slightly. You slammed your hands on the counter, making Evan jump.

“You have taken the Pottermore quiz to find out what house you’re in?” You were leaning over the counter, invading Connor’s personal space which was causing him to lean back slightly.

“I...I have no fucking idea what you’re talking about,” he suddenly sounded unsure.

“Upstairs! Right now! What kind of friends would we be if we didn’t help you discover your true self!” You shouted as you exited the kitchen. Connor was extremely confused, and slightly amused by your reaction.

“Don’t fight her on this, she’s a Harry Potter nutcase,” Jared explained.

“Yeah, she read the entire series when we were in like third grade, and she’s been obsessed every since,” Evan added with a small smile on his face. The boys followed you upstairs to your bedroom. When they arrived to your room, you were sitting at your desk on your laptop, already pulling up the Pottermore website. Evan went to sit on your bed, hugging a throw pillow to his chest. Jared flopped down on the beanbag in the corner of the room. Connor stood awkwardly in your doorway, trying to take in everything about your room. It wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t small by any means. You had a twin bed with a dozen pillows and throw pillows on it. Your desk had drawers and cabinets on either side with birds and flowers painted on them. On top if your desk was a zebra lamp with a hand painted lampshade of what looked like the silhouette or an African savannah. To the left of the door there was a pastel teal bookcase that reached the ceiling, the shelves were filled with books and art supplies. Beneath your window was a long dresser and on top of it say various beauty products, a ukulele, a stack of comic books, and some candles. Your walls very covered in various canvas prints and hand made paintings. There were Christmas lights that hung on the wall and wrapped around the entire room. Connor wasn’t sure what he expected your room to look like, but this wasn’t it. He thought it suited you though.

“Alright, Murphy. Get your ass over here and take this quiz. It’s like 12 questions or something, so it won’t take long.” You snapped him out of his trance when you spoke. He cautiously walked across the room and stood in front of your desk. You grabbed his shoulders and pushed on him until he sat.

“What the fuck does this even mean?” he asked immediately after reading the first question. You leaned over his shoulder and read it quickly.

“What do you mean “what does it mean?” you just pick one! Moon or stars, just choose,” you couldn’t believe he was confused by this.

“Don’t think about it, just pick the answers that feel right. Otherwise you won’t get sorted into the right house,” Jared added from his beanbag in the corner. Connor turned back to the computer, biting his lip as he contemplated the question before him. Moon or stars….stars or moon….Which is better? They’re both in the night sky….they’re both in space….what’s the difference? He ended up choosing moon. He’s not sure why, he just did. He continued taking the quiz, commenting every time he found a question to be strange or ridiculous or he just didn’t get it.

“I don’t think I’d drink out of any of these goblets, what the fuck is this,” He said staring at the question. You leaned over his shoulder, your face just a few inches from his. This caused Connor to stiffen slightly and hold his breath. You always scrunched up your nose and bit your lip slightly when you were contemplating something like you were right now. Connor thought it was cute and with that thought came a sudden heat to his face. He hoped you wouldn’t notice.

“Well, which cup would you drink? I personally wouldn’t drink the foaming, frothing, silvery liquid that sparkles as though containing ground diamonds. I mean, it’s probably made from unicorn’s blood and that’s fucked up. I’d go with either the mysterious black liquid that gleams like ink, and gives off fumes that make you see strange visions or the smooth, thick, richly purple drink that gives off a delicious smell of chocolate and plums.” Connor was staring at you for a few moments until you turned to look at him. He abruptly turned backed to the computer screen. He picked the mysterious black liquid, before hitting submit.

“That’s the one I would’ve picked too,” you told him as you waited for his results to load. In big bold letters the screen read “CONGRATULATIONS! You’ve been sorted into RAVENCLAW!

“Ravenclaw, just like me!” You said with a smile. Connor couldn’t help the small small the spread across his face. Same house as you, maybe that was a good sign.

“No fucking way,” Jared said as he got up from the beanbag. Within seconds the other two boys were huddled around your desk, peering down at the screen.

“I guess you two are pretty similar,” Evan said slowly, not sure how to put his thoughts into words. “Interesting. I guess you guys could be good for each other. Not like, romantically or anything but not that you couldn’t be together like that I just mean that your personalities and interests must be similar if you both got Ravenclaw and that could make you two compatible but in a friendshipy kind of way...” Evan started cracking his knuckles as he rambled, a nervous tick you knew he had You nudged his elbow slightly, a silent way for you to remind him he’s supposed to be working on that. He immediately stopped cracking his knuckles and shoved his hands back into the pocket of his hoodie. Just then, you heard the doorbell. The four of you headed downstairs to get your food from the delivery guy. The four of you sat on the floor around the coffee table in the living room to eat while watching the second Harry Potter movie. Shortly after you began eating, you heard the front door slam open.

“FUCK! I AM SO TIRED!” your sister literally shouted as she came in the door. You could hear her drop her keys and purse directly onto the floor.

“Hey, Gina! I have male friends over, so pants are a requirement!” you called from the living room. You could hear her making her way towards you.

“If it’s just Evan that doesn’t count, he’s basically family so-” she stopped dead in her tracks when she came in the living room and saw an unfamiliar face. “Oh, someone new. Nice to meet you! I’m Regina, April’s older and more beautiful sister,” she stuck out her hand.

“I’m Connor, thanks for having us,” he shook your sister’s hand and gave her a polite smile. Regina shot you a quick look at the mention of his name, clearly she remembered the story you told her about the first day of school.

“Here, I got your favorite,” you said as you handed her a container of sesame chicken and rice.

“You are a goddess, thank you! Well, I need to get some studying done so I’ll leave you guys here. And you guys are welcome to crash here if you’d like, the guest room has a trundle bed so two people could sleep in there if you want or you can all crash out her or on the floor of April’s room. Just please, for the love of god, don’t have a weird high school orgy-”

“OKAY! Thank you for that disturbing talk, Gina. Please go away now,” you interjected before she could make things worse. She nudged your shoulder with her knee before heading upstairs to her room. Jared was snickering under his breath, Evan was hiding in his sweatshirt, and Connor looked slightly uncomfortable. “Sorry, she can be a little over the top sometimes,” you apologized to your container of food, too embarrassed to make eye contact.

“I’m gonna let my mom know I’m staying here tonight, if that’s cool. I don’t really want to drive anywhere,” Jared said, “unless I need to take you home?” he was now looking at Evan.

“No, it’s okay. My mom is working a night shift, so I’ll just text her and tell her I’m staying too. But….but a ride home tomorrow would be nice. If that’s okay?” Jared nodded before turning his attention back to his phone.

“So,” Jared began once he had sent his text to his mom, “You staying, too, Murphy?” Now all of you were looking at Connor, waiting for an answer. He thought about it for a minute, not sure what to say. He didn’t know if his parents would really let him stay out overnight, but he also knew he’s never felt this normal and just...okay in his entire life.

“Yeah,” he started, “I’ll stay, my parents won’t mind.” You couldn’t help but think maybe your friend group was growing.

#fanfic #fan fiction #my writing #dear evan hansen #deh #evan hansen #jared kleinman #connor murphy #alana beck #zoe murphy #april rose #connor murphy x reader #fluffy #harry potter #harry potter house #ravenclaw #connor is a ravenclaw #fight me #beautifullybroken

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betweensceneswriter · 7 years ago

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Jimjeran-Chapter 17 : Phoning Home

I really complicated my life by not killing off Claire's family. . . :)

Click Here to Hop to the Table of Contents

Previously on Jimjeran- Chapter 16 : Getting to Know You Claire and Jamie need a little time to get to know each other better.

Revka woke up early, needing to get ready for school. After she spent a few minutes having to repeatedly step over me as she got ready, I folded up the sleeping pad and went out to the living room with my blanket to get out of her way. Jamie was sleeping on his back, his blanket twisted around his legs, his arm bent, hand by his face. The early morning sun glinted off his copper chest hair as his stomach rose and fell with each breath. I watched him for a moment, then went and knelt by him. I stroked his arm gently, wondering if he was close to waking. His lips curved into a slight smile, but he went on sleeping. I tiptoed back to the other couch and curled up in my blanket.

When Dougal and Moneo came out to the kitchen and started talking and preparing breakfast, it was impossible to sleep further. Jamie woke and smiled at me, and I had the incredible pleasure of a hot shower, even though I minimized my time to save water.

I was feeling nervous as we ate breakfast. Dougal and Moneo headed off to work; Revka had taken the bus to school. I had charged my very dead cell phone through the night, and now there was no excuse not to call my parents.

“What’s the time difference between here and Boston?” Jamie asked, as I picked up the phone.

“Oh, my parents don’t live in Boston,” I said. “Hadn’t I told you? My dad’s in the Air Force; he’s stationed at Andersen Air Force Base on Guam. That’s just 2 hours earlier than here. Since it’s 8:30, it’ll be 6:30 there. They’re usually up by now.”

“Your father is in the United States military?” Jamie asked, as if incredulous that I hadn’t told him before.

“Well, he’s a chaplain,” I said. “So he’s not a fighting airman.”

“So your father is a pastor? A Reverend?” Jamie seemed to find that amusing, though I didn’t know why.

“Not a pastor as much as someone who provides spiritual and emotional counsel.”

“What do people call him?” Jamie wondered.

“Well, he’s Major Beauchamp,” I answered. “But I call him Daddy.”

His eyebrows rose in amusement. “Daddy? Exactly how old are ye?”

I was too nervous to laugh at his joke. As I stared at my phone, Jamie got up and came to sit by me, putting his arm around my shoulders. “No need to be nervous, Ripālle. Or are yer parents scary people?”

“No,” I shook my head. “I just have no idea how I’m going to explain this.” I took a deep breath, and pressed the send button.

“Daddy!” I said, when he answered the phone, Jamie making a face at me in the background. I turned away from him. “How are you and Mom doing?”

“Claire-bear,” said my father. It was good to hear his familiar voice over the line. “We didn’t expect to hear from you so soon. We thought you wouldn’t be able to get to Majuro for a month or two. We have gotten letters from you, though.”

“It’s Claire?” I heard in the distance. Seconds later, my mom picked up the other phone—landline, of course. My parents couldn’t live completely in the present. At least their phones no longer had those curly cords attaching the phone thingy to the other part.

“Hey, kiddo,” she said. Jamie smiled, hearing her voice over the line.

“She sounds like you,” he whispered.

“So, what’s up?” Daddy asked. “It sounds like you had a pretty tough weekend.”

“My letter about the funeral got to you already?” I asked.

“Yeah,” said Mom. “After such a fun day, too, snorkeling with the Scots. Losing Maxson must have been incredibly hard. I’m really sorry that you weren’t able to let Jamie comfort you,” she said. “He sounds like such a nice guy, but Frank is your fiancé. You need to be careful.”

“Speaking of which!” I exclaimed, as Jamie looked at me, an amused expression on his face as he realized that I had written my parents about him. He scooted closer to me so that he could hear better.

“So, this is all going to come as a shock to you,” I said. “But it’s better to just spell it out. Frank broke up with me…”

My mom gasped, “Oh, honey, no! Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I said, “but I’m not done yet. Um, Jamie and I are getting married.” There was absolute silence on the other end of the phone. I waited. Nothing. “Hello?” I said.

“Claire-bear,” my dad said compassionately. “Are you pregnant?” Jamie’s eyes widened and he blushed slightly.

“No, Dad,” I responded with a rueful chuckle. “We’re not even sexually involved yet.”

There was more silence. “Do you need me to call you back?” I asked. “Obviously you guys are shocked.”

“We need time to process,” said my mom reassuringly. “I mean, Frank’s been part of the family for almost seven years. That’s a lot to…that’s fast…Honey, you haven’t even been there a month. How long have you known this boy?”

“Long enough to know how I feel about him,” I said, feeling flushed and embarrassed.

“Do you love him?” my mom asked.

I looked at Jamie’s rugged face, his gentle eyes, his smile. Without realizing it, I think, he had begun holding me tighter.

“Yes,” I whispered. I had to hold the phone away from my ear as Jamie took my chin in his hand to kiss me.

“Are you still there?” my mom was asking as I put my ear back to the phone.

“Yes.”

“So, have you set a date?” she asked.

I closed my eyes and blew out my breath slowly. “We’re thinking, like, tomorrow,”

More silence.

“Come on, Claire, seriously,” Mom laughed. “When?”

“Seriously,” I said. “I’ll explain the reasons in a letter, but we are getting married. As soon as we can.”

“Without even giving us a chance to see if we could come?” said my dad. He sounded disappointed. “It’s only eight hours by plane, Claire. I want to be able to walk you down the aisle . . . or beach.”

My mom spoke up, “Jeff, it’s going to be okay. Claire, this does seem impulsive. But you’re a big girl, and this is your life, and we trust you. But would you be willing to wait until Friday? Daddy and I will look at getting flights and we can let you know if we can make it. When do you head back to Arno?”

“Today,” I said, “If we can get everything done we need to. If we go tomorrow, we’ll have to charter a boat. But that’s just $300, which isn’t a problem.”

“Call us before you leave, then, hon,” said my dad. “And whether or not we can come, we love you, and we wish you all the best.”

Jamie reached his hand for the phone, a question in his eyes. “Hey, dad?” I said. “I’ve got someone here who wants to talk to you.”

“Just a minute, sir,” Jamie said, as he put the phone to his ear. He left me and walked back into Revka’s room, shutting the door.

A few minutes later, Jamie came out and returned the phone to me.

“Okay, Claire,” Daddy said. “I give you my blessing, baby girl. He seems like a fine young man—as long as he keeps his word. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“What did you say to them?” I asked, as I hung up the phone.

“I’ll tell ye sometime,” Jamie said. “For now, we need to get things done.”

It was a hectic day. We stopped at the bank first, where we proceeded to have our first fight, which started with me saying, “Well, I have money in savings if you need it,” when talking about Jamie buying me a wedding ring.

“No, I willna be borrowing money from ye to buy you a wedding ring,” he said stubbornly.

I stood in front of him, and put my hands on my hips. “Okay, Jamie Fraser, if you say that you want the kind of marriage that’s forever, then here’s the deal. A nurse makes more than a teacher, period. Do you have a problem with that? Because I’m not going to be a separate bank accounts kind of girl. I had enough of that for the past seven years, and see how easy it was to break ties with Frank? If we want to stay married forever, we need to entangle ourselves so separating is next to impossible. And that means what’s mine is yours.”

“But can you see, Claire,” Jamie retorted, “That a wedding ring is different? I’ll happily use your money to buy food and clothes and go on vacations. But this is going to be from me to you, and I willna be using your money, even if it means it’s a simple band because I canna afford more. Can you simplify yer desires, or do you need a gigantic diamond, Ripālle?”

His pet name for me had never sounded so snide and mean. I stopped and put my hand on his chest and stared at him.

“Yer still wearing your engagement ring from Frank,” he said, forehead wrinkled, as he put his hand over mine. I looked down at my ring finger, stunned. The white gold ring with a princess cut diamond, probably several thousand dollars in value, was still there.

“I’m so sorry, Jamie,” I said, pulling it off my finger and dropping it into my purse. “I hadn’t even. . .I didn’t think. . .I’m sorry. Simple is fine. I’ll love whatever you choose.”

As we waited in line at the government offices, we scribbled down a list of things to take care of. I wanted better curtains for the apartment, and Jamie said he needed to get a few things for the house as well. We needed to get to a grocery store where we could buy rice and canned meats like tuna and Spam for the party, as well as beverages and flour for the ladies to create whatever form of dessert they could. It was a little strange to think of a wedding without a cake.

And we wanted to get it all done by four when the Jolok boat left.

For an hour and a half we separated, each working on our own to-do list.

For my part, I found a salon where I could get a pedicure, and then decided to get waxed. I left a bit of nature—no need to stun the poor boy, but I wanted to make it easy to find what he needed to.

I also found a little shop that had a pretty white sundress that would work for my wedding dress, as well as some lingerie—pretty chemises, and some clingy beach cover-ups. I liked the way they let my breasts move, concealing some of my body, but revealing the shape of my breasts and the rise of my nipples. In the changing room I looked at everything with a young virgin in mind. I felt like I was giving him a gift, and choosing lingerie was like buying special wrapping paper. He was right; there was definitely something to be said for knowing I would be his first.

And only, a little voice in my mind said. For a moment, my heart stopped. How could a young man be satisfied with a woman five years older than him? How would Jamie ever be satisfied with me? He wanted this to be forever. Could I really commit to him? What if we found out we didn’t like each other? I was almost hyperventilating with panic.

I took a deep breath. This is Jamie. Your friend—your strong, funny, good-humored, sexy friend. You trust him, you feel safe with him, you love him, you’re attracted to him. Other long-lasting marriages have started with less.

When we met back up again, Jamie looked giddy, but I must have had a similar expression on my face, because he asked me, “What have you been doing, Ripālle? Ye look like yer keeping a secret.”

“So do you,” I said, which made him grin and hug me.

Our last stop was the supermarket, where we spent a crazy amount of money on food and drinks, and then we lugged everything to the Jolok boat dock.

While we waited for the boat, I called my parents again. They were still working on it, they said, but if we could wait til Friday evening, they would try their hardest to come for the wedding.

The tiny boat pulled up to the dock, and was quickly loaded with our boxes as well as a large crate of some kind. With the boat riding low in the water, I wondered whether we’d make it to our own wedding, either.

I watched Jamie (his seasickness relieved by a healthy preventive dose of Dramamine), carrying on a conversation with a wrinkled little jibū (grandma), listening to her and talking to her with bright eyes and a big grin. She threw her head back and laughed, revealing toothless gums.

Running through my mind were my dad’s final words on the phone. He was choked up as he said goodbye. “Claire-bear,” he said. “I know he’s young; I know this is fast, but I see why you’re doing it. This one’s a keeper.”

Daddy shared the gist of what Jamie had said to him:

“It would crush me, but if ye say no, sir, I will not marry your daughter.

I vow to ye, sir, I will love yer daughter well.

I know to the depths of my soul that she is the woman with whom I want to spend my future.

I will keep her safe; protect her at the cost of my life.

And I will love her, when you are no longer able to.”

I turned my eyes toward Arno. The blue sky, green trees, and white sand swirled in front of me, and I lifted my hand to wipe away the tears. I felt terrified and certain at the same time.

In seconds, a warm body was behind me, an arm wrapped around my shoulders, lips kissed my cheek, and a voice in my ear said, “I’m here, Ripālle. Let’s go home, and then let’s get married.”

On to Chapter 18 : Restraint Jamie and Claire are ‘horndogs’ as they wait to get married…

#alternate universe #jamie x claire #Marshallislands #Outlander fanfic #BetweenSceneswriter

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queen-of-deans-booty · 7 years ago

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Children Shouldn’t Play With Dead Things- Part 2

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,595

Warnings: Typical Supernatural violence, angst, language, minor character death, blood, you know the usual,

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Please, if you want to be tagged for this series, let me know and I’ll add you! If you want to be tagged for my other fics, I’ll add you! I want to hear what you guys think about this. If you want something requested, send it in!

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.

Tags at the bottom

The next morning, you were up and taking a shower. Sam already had his shower and was watching TV while you took yours. Dean never came back last night and you wished you knew where he was. You always worried about him.

The walls of the motel room were very thin so but you were in your own head so you didn’t hear Dean come into the room or when Sam shut off the TV in a hurry. Dean walked straight past Sam after giving him a weird look.

Dean walked straight to the bathroom and slipped inside, quickly slipping off his clothes before slipping into the shower with you. You were so inside your own head, you didn’t hear Dean enter the bathroom at all. The only indication you knew he was here was when he put his hands on your waist.

Yes, you were startled but the familiar roughness of his hands was what calmed you down. You leaned into his chest as the water fell over the two of you.

“I missed you last night. I was worried.” You said gently, not knowing how he was going to react.

“I needed to be alone. You, of all people know I hate talking about this.” Dean muttered, placing his lips on your shoulder.

“But why?” You turned around in his arms and stared into his beautiful green eyes. “You do it with me when we’re alone so why can’t you do it in front of Sam? Or anyone?”

“You’re different…” He muttered.

“But why?”

“I don’t know. When I’m with you, I feel free like I can be who I am. With Sam… I’m supposed to protect him. He can’t detect weakness in me because I take care of him. I always have.” He said sadly.

“You took care of me. I love you Dean and I just hate seeing you in pain.” You reached up, sliding your hands up his body until you rested them around his neck.

“I know.” He jaw tensed and he leaned closer to you.

“I will always be here. No matter what. You know this.” You muttered, leaning up and pressing your lips against his. He slid his hands to your ass, pressing you into him. This wasn’t about sex; this was about letting Dean know that you weren’t going anywhere. He was stuck with your sorry ass.

“Let me take care of you.” You whispered when you pulled away. You washed every inch of his body, hair included. He didn’t have to do a damn thing. He always took care of you so it was your turn to take care of him.

You got out of the shower and dried off, changing into the clothes you brought with you. Dean got dressed and you stopped him from walking out of the bathroom.

“You feeling better?” You stared into his eyes and he nodded.

“Just a little.” He said without a smile.

“I love you so much.” You said, accepting that he doesn’t say it back. He proved it by his actions. You leaned up and kissed him softly, pulling away before he could deepen it. You walked into the bedroom and saw Sam sitting at the table, doing something on his computer.

“So, you’re going to tell me where the hell you were last night?” Sam asked, closing his laptop.

“Working my supposedly imaginary case.” Dean replied.

“Did you find anything?”

“No, you were right, I didn’t find much,” Sam nodded his head sympathetically, ready to leave this town. “Yeah, you see, Angela’s boyfriend slit his own throat. But that's completely normal these days. Uh, what else… Oh! He was seeing Angela everywhere before he died. But I’m sure that's just me transferring my own feelings.” Dean said, staring at his brother.

“Okay, I get it. I’m sorry, maybe there is something going on here.” Sam said, sighing. You giggled and watched your boyfriend.

“Maybe? Sam, I know how to do my fucking job despite what you think.” Dean said, shaking his head and walking over to you.

“You did a pretty good job.” You smiled and touched his chest as you pulled him in.

“Fine, we should check out the guy's apartment.” Sam said, getting up.

“I just came from there. There was a pile of dead plants and even the goldfish died.”

“So, unholy ground?” Sam asked, thinking.

“Maybe. I’m just not getting that angry vibe from Angela,” Dean left your side to his jacket and pulled out a pink book. “I have been reading this, though.”

“Is that her diary?” You gasped, walking over to him. You took the book from his hand and opened it up. This didn’t feel as wrong as you might have thought. This could potentially let you know if there was a case here or not.

“Yeah, read through it. That girl might be a little too nice if you know what I mean.” Dean said, shrugging.

“So, what do you want to do?” Sam asked.

“Talk to more of her friends, see if we can find anything else on this girl.”

“This guy Neil seems he likes her a lot.” You said, looking up from the diary.

“He does and that is why we are going to visit him.” Dean said, holding up his keys. You nodded and grabbed your jacket, your eyes never leaving the diary. You walked to the door but bumped into the door frame.

“Careful, sweetheart.” Dean laughed.

“Screw you.” You muttered, moving a little and walking to the car, reading what Angela wrote.

It didn’t take long to get there. You were a fast reader and were almost done with the diary.

“Damn, she has nice handwriting.” You said when you exited the car. You left the diary in the car for the sake of Neil. You didn’t want him asking unwanted questions.

“Let’s hope this gets us somewhere.” Sam muttered, walking to the door of Neil’s house and knocking. Not a moment later, Neil opened the door and looked at the three of you suspiciously.

“Hi, Neil, we heard recently of Angela’s death around campus and we are going around, talking to people and making sure they’re okay, maybe helping them through this tough time.” You said gently, smiling sympathetically.

“I didn't realize the college employed grief counselors.” Neil said, crossing his arms.

“Oh yeah. Yeah, you talk, we listen. Whatever helps the healing.” Dean said, nodding.

“Well, I think I'm okay. Thanks.” Neil said, smiling tightly.

“Well, you heard what happened to Matt Harrison, right?” Sam asked before Neil could close the door.

“Yeah I did.”

“Well, we just wanted to make sure you were okay. Grief can make people do crazy things.” Sam said, chuckling a bit.

“Look, it’s terrible what happened to Matt but he didn’t kill himself out of grief.” Neil crossed his arms. He knew something you didn’t.

“What do you mean?” You asked, furrowing your brow.

“He killed himself because he was guilty. Angela’s death was his fault and he knew it. Don’t get me wrong, Angie loved him. But the night of that accident, she walked on him with another girl. She was really broken about it and that is why she crashed her car. Look, I have to get to work so thanks for stopping by. Seriously, I’ll be fine. “Neil didn’t give anyone else a chance to speak because he shut the door pretty hard, if you were judging.

“Well, now we know why Matt died but I have a feeling this isn’t over.” You said, turning away from the house and walking with the boys.

“Well there is only one way to know for sure.” Dean said, getting out his keys.

“Yeah? What’s that?” Sam asked, getting into the car.

“We need to burn the bones.” Dean said, turning the car on.

“Wait, Dean, burn the bones? Are you crazy? Her funeral was three days ago, there won’t be bones. There will be a rotting body in that coffin.” Sam said, looking at his brother like he was bat shit crazy.

“Since when are you afraid to get dirty? Huh?” Dean smirked, driving to the only cemetery in town.

You located the grave and when it was dark enough, you and the Winchesters got to work. The brothers did all the digging and you decided you were going to be the one to open the coffin. Weirdly enough, Sam and Dean were grossed out easily. You would think that with what they deal on a daily basis, they would be used to blood and all things gore.

But nope. You, on the other hand, live for this stuff. When you were growing up, you would make Dean and Sam watch scary movies with you. They would always be the one jumping but you laughed. You loved everything horror.

When the Winchester got done with digging, Dean turned to you and handed you the flashlight.

“Ladies first.” He chuckled nervously.

“You’re both big babies. Even a little horror movie will be enough to get you to pee your pants.” You smirked as you jumped into the coffin.

“Hey, that movie was scary. It was Sam’s last day with us. Why couldn’t you have picked a good movie?” Dean protested.

“I’m glad I didn’t. Seeing you both jump out of your skin and scream like a little girl was plenty for me.” You teased.

“Alright, just open the coffin.” Sam said, wanting this to be over already. You nodded and took a deep breath. Yeah, you didn’t get grossed out but there was a rotting body in here. You were so used to dealing with bones.

You opened the coffin slowly, prepared for what you were about to see but gasped. It was empty.

“Where the fuck is she?” You looked at Dean and Sam whose eyes were wide.

“Son of a bitch.” Dean muttered.

“So now what?” You asked Sam and Dean.

“No, this doesn’t make any sense. She was buried four days ago.” Dean said, pacing the ground above you. You sighed and looked inside the coffin to see if there was anything you could spot out of the ordinary.

“Wait, guys look at this.” You pointed your flashlight at the top of the coffin, seeing familiar symbols on them.

“What is that?” Sam asked, being too far away to get a good look.

“Remember the book you found in Dr. Mason’s office? These are symbols on the book.” You looked at Dean to see him seething.

“This bitch...” Dean walked back to the car.

“Dean!” You closed the coffin lid and reached up to grab Sam’s waiting hand. When you were on ground level, you ran after Dean, leaving Sam by himself.

“No, this man is bringing his daughter back to life. That is no acceptable.” Dean said, not stopping.

“Dean! Listen!” You grabbed his arm but he yanked you off and continued to walk. You stopped and looked back at Sam who was jogging to you.

“What the hell?” You said to him.

“I don’t know.” Sam shrugged. Dr. Mason wouldn’t be in his office at this time of night so you would have to pay him a visit tomorrow.

“Dean, calm down.” You said when Dean pounded on Dr. Mason’s door loudly. Dr. Mason opened the door and he tilted his head in confusion, trying to place you.

“You’re Angela’s friends, right?” He seemed innocent.

“Dr. Mason…” You said gently.

“We need to talk.” Dean said harshly.

“Okay, come on in.” Dr. Mason walked to his desk and you followed him. You tried getting a word before Dean could but that wasn’t going to happen.

“You teach Ancient Greek. Tell me -- what are these?” Dean said, unfolding a piece of paper. Dean went back to the cemetery to get pictures of the symbols before you or even Sam woke up. Then he made an appointment with the Doctor.

“I don't understand. You said this had something to do with Angela.” Dr. Mason said, confused.

“It does, but please, humor me.” Dean said, handing the doctor the paper.

“They're part of an ancient Greek divination ritual used for necromancy.”

“You see, we did a little homework ourselves. Apparently, these kinds of symbols were used to contact the dead. Or maybe even bringing corpses back like zombies.” Dean accused. You looked at Dr. Mason and he seemed genuinely confused about all of this. You didn’t think he was the one to bring her back.

“Yes. I mean, according to the legends. Now, what's all this about?” Dr. Mason said, getting a bit aggravated.

“I think you know.” Dean pressed on.

“Dean.” You touched his arm but he wouldn’t let up.

“Look, I get it. Okay? There are people that I would give anything to see again. But what gives you the right?” Dean accused, raising his voice a little. You didn’t like this side of Dean. It scared you a bit.

“Dean! That’s enough!” You said.

“What are you guys talking about?”

“What's dead should stay dead!” Dean yelled at the poor man.

“What?!” Dr. Mason yelled right back.

“Stop it! Dean!” You tired, yanking on his arm but he wouldn’t stop.

“What you brought back isn't even your daughter anymore. These things are vicious, they're violent, they're so nasty they rot the ground around them.” Dean pressed even further. You looked at Sam for help but he didn’t know what to do.

“You’re inane. Get out of my office.” Dr. Mason picked up the phone to probably call the police but Dean knocked it right out of his hand.

“Where is she? I know you’re hiding her here!” Dean yelled at the poor man.

“Dean!! Stop it!” You yelled, standing up. You looked at Sam and gave him a glare. He better do something.

“Dean! Stop! Look!” Sam grabbed Dean’s jaw and pointed it to the windowsill which had beautiful flowers there. “See, living plants.”

“I’m sorry we bothered you,” You said to the distraught man. Sam pulled Dean up and shoved him out of the office. “I’m so sorry.” You left with the brothers and Dean was fuming. When you got on the sidewalk, you let him have it.

“Dean, what the fuck is the matter with you?” You growled out, stopping right in front of him.

“Back off.” He glared at you.

“That man is innocent! He didn't deserve that!” Sam said, standing next to you.

“Okay, so she's not here, maybe he's keeping her somewhere else.” Dean shrugged, not listening to you.

“Dean! Stop it! You’re scaring me! I don’t like this part of you! Just because Angela is back, doesn’t mean you get to take it out on everyone else. I know you want Mary and John back but don’t you ever do that again. You won’t let anyone help you and then when we’re alone, you break down. You’re so confusing!! Get your shit together because you’re making me go crazy!” You yelled at Dean, turning around and walking to the car.

You got tears, thinking of your mom and how much you wouldn’t give to be with her right now. Or have her right here with you. You let some tears fall and let Sam deal with his brother.

“I know I’m being an asshole right now, Y/N, and I’m sorry but we need to take care of this first.” You rolled your eyes and yanked the door open, getting into the car, slamming it.

“Hey, don’t take it out on Baby.” Dean muttered, walking to the driver’s side.

The Queens:

@maddieburcham1 @ginamsmith @mogaruke @whit85-blog@inlovewithbja @spn67-sister@kdfrqqg@jarpadandjensenaremyheroes@roxyspearing@supercalifragilistic26 @mishamigose@cobrakai1967@essie1876@innernightwerewolf@wishedworld@justanotherdeangirl@crispychrissy @laqueus-ludovicus@nostalgic-uncertainty @jerk-bitch-and-an-angel@potterhead1265@starswirlblitz @untitled39887@ta-n-ja @deans-fallen-angel-boy@scarletluvscas @notnaturalanahi

Series Rewrite Junkies:

@helllonearth @amyisabellal@deanwnchstr@caseykitten6@roxalya19 @quixoticcat@supernaturalblogging@notmoose45@crowleysminion @mina22@tahbehonest @spn-applepie-imagines @hadleymcallister2177 @destielsangels@spnhybrid

Dean Beans:

@akshi8278 @mega-mrs-dean-winchester@winchesterandpie @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @spn-applepie-imagines @tahbehonest @carribear31@tacklesackles @oreosatmidnight

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