#agh i have a growing headach now

[mondaymelon]

₊⊹ 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐩 ! ♡. | xiao, kaveh, gorou, lyney, wriothesley x gn!reader

⤷ art by @/grimruu on twitter... i added the boops :> .. fluff, established relationship. dw its an actual fic ( just trsut me )

" boop ! "

— 𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎

he's startled, that's something certain. xiao's not used to random actions like this; shouldn't one move with purpose...?

blinking at you, his round eyes are more so filled with surprise than disdain. "what... what did you just-" yet... well, you've just tapped your finger to his nose, and now you're grinning like an idiot... truly, the hearts of mortals were something he'd never quite understand.

"it's fun!" yet again, you move forwards, and while xiao is expecting another "boop" from your finger, he's caught off guard when you give him a small kiss on the nose instead.

"boop."

xiao's voice is uncharacteristically faint, quiet. "ah..."

he hides his face behind a hand, trying to evade his clear embarrassment before it catches your eyes. "you're so... stupid."

... and you'd almost believe it, if it weren't for the evident flush dusted across the tips of his ears.

" boop ! "

— 𝐊𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐇

he's well into his third drink by the time you boop his nose, and it takes him another few seconds and a lethargic blink or two before he even registers the action.

when he does, a silly smile spreads across his face, his already drunkenly flushed cheeks warming further. "booop?" the word slurs together, and a slow finger moves to boop you on your nose as well.

too bad, it misses the mark, and he ends up poking your upper lip, frowning when he does so. "ah, oops... lemme try again..." this time, he manages to find your nose. a smugly proud smile appears on his features thanks to the success.

god, he was so pathetic. you loved him for it.

cupping his cheek, you sneakily lean forward and press a kiss to his nose. his skin is warm to the touch. "boop." before he can strike back, you hit him with a double combo, this time kissing him on the lips.

"whuh.. no fair," his eyebrows furrow as he pouts childishly. "i wan..na... too..."

he falls asleep before he can finish his sentence, slumping onto the table and conking out immediately. as expected. you tuck his messy hair behind his ear with a fond smile. he'd have a hell of a headache in the morning. ah, but... tolerating his whines would be worth it — you'd gotten to kiss him, after all.

... his lips tasted like wine.

" boop ! "

— 𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐔

he jolts like he's been shocked, and you have to suppress a laugh at the sight. "e-eh, what was-?" one of his ears twitches subconsciously, and you can tell he's trying to maintain eye contact to the best of his abilities. hey, it wasn't everyday your lover swung by camp just to tap you on the nose... were you teasing him??

"it's a boop." you state it, matter-of-fact, and gorou only grows more helplessly confused. "boop." just like that, you poke him again. his eyes widen in realization (though he's far off the mark). agh, could it be that more rumors had spread of his "good luck", except this time, instead of rubbing his ears for good fortune, it's tapping his nose instead..?

you watch his eyes swirl with perplexion — really, what was the point in watching those highly-acclaimed entertainment films from fontaine when an entire life's worth of entertainment was right in front of you? "c'mon, don't tell me you've fallen for it too?"

...what was he even talking about? no matter, it was cute seeing him panic (though he'd disagree). you smile at him cheekily, "fallen? why, gorou, the only thing i've fallen for is you ~"

silence.

then the sound of someone choking. gorou upright sputters, his face hopelessly red, before springing forward and getting his revenge; that is, kissing you on the tip of your nose, too embarrassed to keep his eyes open while doing so.

"ugh, you're such a tease..."

... how could you not be, when he was so adorable?

" boop ! "

— 𝐋𝐘𝐍𝐄𝐘

he smiles, his eyes twinkling as they become upturned crescents. "oh? a tap to the nose..." he seems oddly delighted in the action, and perks up not long after, with a strange, mischievous shine in his eyes.

he shuffles through his signature deck of cards with a grin. "love, why don't you pick a card? any card from the deck, whichever one you want~"

you eye him suspiciously.

he has the demeanor of a cunning cat, one that if you turn your gaze away from for a mere second, is sure to cause trouble. well... he was your lover, so you should have some faith in him. drawing a card from the ones he's presented in his hands, you receive the two of hearts.

before you can even properly glance up from your cards, you're met with a faceful of brilliant red roses, each delicate petal perfectly curving in place and green, glistening leaves healthy and lush. lyney's the one behind it all, a smug smile on his lips, and before you can even open your mouth to speak, he leaps forward and swiftly kisses your nose.

"boop."

and he sticks his tongue out, smoothly tucking a rose (without thorns, mind you) into your hair.

hell, he was so smooth. your brain wasn't even able to register half his actions until half a minute after, and when you did, your face burned.

"haha~ what's wrong, love?"

... this guy was seriously dangerous for your heart.

" boop ! "

— 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘

he stares you dead in the eyes, in a sort of, "did you really just do that?" kind of way. it's not that he's disappointed, per say, but more so shocked; even siegewinnie wouldn't dare do such a thing like pokingg the duke's nose, (on second thought, maybe she would)... either way, he sits there in a sort of shell-shocked manner, the cup of tea he had begun to lift to his lips long forgotten. "you..."

"boop." you say it like it's all the explanation he needs. in case he doesn't understand, you'll be so generous as to say it a second time, nodding your head for extra confirmation. "boop."

he lets out a lighthearted sigh, one that makes it easy to tell he's on the edge of releasing a chuckle. crossing his arms over his desk and leaning over it, he grabs your chin with his fingers, gently lifting it to raise your gaze to his level.

"boop." this time, he's the one booping you, and he seems all too amused about it, a sly smile on his lips as he does it moves to do it once more. "boop."

hey, was he copying you-? the thought isn't able to completely form before your brain utterly short circuits; the reason? none other than the duke of the fortress of meropide kissing your nose, of course.

wriothesley's enjoying this way too much... yet he seems so utterly unaffected when he pulls away, settling back into his chair and taking a serene sip of his tea, like he hadn't just committed several war crimes against your heart.

... fuck, if it skipped too many beats, would you die??

(a/n) happy boop- i mean april fools dayyy !! mwah mwah watch me pull some "im quitting" shii next year :>

𝐭 𝐚 𝐠 𝐥 𝐢 𝐬 𝐭 : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader,@fiannee, @aether-darling, @ceneid, @avensuersa, @dainsleif-when-playable, @solxima, @sangoqueenkoko, @haliyamori ...

[goatcheesecak3]

Maybe a story where the reader helps clean and patch up Gavin after a rough bar fight.

Gavin Ellis X F!reader

Fic type: fluff

Warnings: mention of physical altercation, blood, alcohol

Summary: Your boyfriend, Gavin, comes home drunk out of his mind and it's your job to patch him up.

A/N hello! sorry it took me so long to get around to this, but i hope you enjoy it! if anyone wants the m!reader version just let me know! also, sorry if the formatting is weird, i'm posting this from my laptop lmao

Midnight. Gavin had gone out for drinks with Ray a few hours ago, and he still wasn’t home. Initially, y/n hadn’t been worried, she knew Gavin wouldn’t risk going anywhere too sleazy with Ray, not after the last time he had roped Ray into that world. Unbelievably, even being used as a drug mule by Gavin wasn’t enough to make Ray give up on him. They needed eachother in certain ways, Ray kept Gavin grounded and sensible, and Gavin made sure Ray actually had fun – y/n was more than grateful that her asshole boyfriend had at least one responsible and kind friend. However, as the minutes ticked on by, she felt herself growing anxious. What if Gav had left Ray to go see some of his old “work associates”? what if he’d gotten himself arrested? Oh god, what if he was dead in a ditch somewhere? What if- *CLUNK * - the front door opened.

“y/n? are you up?” she heard a familiar voice call softly from the hall. It was Ray, with a nearly comatose Gavin slung over his shoulder like a bindle.

“Christ! How much did the silly prick drink?” y/n gasped.

“Enough to get in a punch up with a guy twice his size” Ray answered, his voice shy, but light hearted, as though he was unsure if he was allowed to laugh.

“Just dump him on the sofa, Ray, I’ll take him up to bed after I clean that blood off his face”

Ray obliged.

“You’re a saint for putting up with him,” y/n chuckled, reaching into her purse, “here, get yourself a cab home, your mum must be worried sick by now”

…

“Agh… what the…” Gavin winced as he came back around

“Shhh, don’t be a baby” y/n teased, dabbing a cut on his lip with an alcohol pad.

“When did I get hom- OW! Can you cut that out?!”

“about ten minutes ago, Ray carried you here”

Gavin’s tired eyes filled with dread.

“did he tell you about…”

“the fistfight? Yeah, it might’ve come up” y/n said, raising her eyebrows and shooting him a pissed off look.

Gavin knew he fucked up, he’d promised y/n he’d stay on the straight and narrow, he knew how much it upset her when he got into fights. He was on thin ice with the law as it was, he should have been keeping his head down and his nose clean- easy as pie in theory, but when some cunt at the bar shouts “Oi Gav, yer new bird dresses like a slag” it gets particularly difficult.

“Babe, it’s not what you think, this dickhead was saying all sorts of horrible shit about you, I was like… defending your honour” Gavin stumbled over his words, desperately trying to explain himself.

Y/n’s expression softened.

“You’re an idiot, Gav. I don’t need you to beat people up for me. That guy probably didn’t even know who I was, more than likely he just wanted to get a rise out of you” She sighed as she applied some ointment – more gently this time – onto a scrape on his cheek.

“C’mon, don’t I get any credit at all for trying to stick up for you? Look at how busted up my lip is!” Gavin whined slightly, a cheeky grin forming on his face.

Y/n attempted to stay serious, but she couldn’t help herself from smiling.

“If I kiss it better will you pack it in?”

“Maybe”

She leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss onto Gavin’s still slightly bloody lips.

“better?”

“much better” Gavin grinned, his eyes droopy and a big dopey smile plastered on his face.

“c’mon you big softie, let’s get you some rest. You’ve got a lovely headache to look forward to tomorrow” Y/N teased, taking Gavin’s hand and kissing his cheek lovingly. God he was an idiot, but a cute idiot.

[billygoat26]

Ambertale: Part One

Chapter 1, page 1

He was.. confused, to say the least. What happened? Where am I? And why does my head hurt so bad? These thoughts echoed in Asher’s head as he sat himself up. 

When he looked around to get a better idea of where he was, all he saw was rock walls, and for some reason there was… light. Like it was shining down from above him, drawing attention to the yellow flowers that he sat upon. He noticed there were a few orange ones mixed in, though they didn’t seem to have naturally grown there. It was as if someone planted them there themselves. 

Asher looked up, and saw an opening from which the light came from. It was much like what you would expect to see from inside a volcano… wait…

“Is this where I think it is?” He thought out loud. His voice echoed, bouncing off the vine-laced walls. Some parts of the vines had yellow flowers growing from them, and Asher stood, making his way over to inspect them. 

Much to his own surprise, he felt a sense of… calmness. Something he hadn’t truly felt in years. This place seemed so peaceful. Well, sort of. He got the sense that there was danger nearby. Either there actually was or he was just a little on edge per usual, despite the calming nature of his surroundings. But that calming feeling went away almost immediately once he heard a voice from behind him.

“Howdy!” Asher jumped, whirling around to face the source of the voice, only to not see it. “Down here, you idiot!” 

Asher looked down to find a flower, different from the others. It had a face, and… could talk? Strange, yet for some reason he didn’t think it was all that weird.

“I’m Flowey. Flowey the flower!” The flower, known as Flowey, spoke in a cheerful tone… too cheerful. “Seems you took quite a fall there.”

“Yeah, I guess I did.” Asher mumbled, glancing up at the opening, the top of the mountain. Now that he thought about it, the hole seemed quite a ways up. That would explain the pounding headache that, when thought about, only got worse. It almost made him feel sick to his stomach. 

“Well, no need to worry! I could guide you through the Underground! Think of it as a tour.” Flowey, still maintaining a cheerful tone, smiled. He… seemed friendly enough. But something was off..

“A ‘tour’?” Asher was having mixed emotions on his situation. A tour would be nice, but he wanted to leave. Now. To get away from the monsters- as he had determined this was Mt. Ebott, and he also knew that the monsters were trapped here. And he… doesn’t have the best past with them. “Well, is there a way, you know, out?” 

“Agh, I have a whole speech planned, and it’s getting interrupted by your questions!” Suddenly, Flowey seemed annoyed. But it only seemed to last for a few seconds, because before Asher could even register what had happened, Flowey was back to his cheerful tone.

“That little heart right there is your SOUL.” Asher glanced down, and there it was. A small, glowing, floating, heart shaped soul. “Though.. it’s different from what I’ve seen before..” It would have been normal if not for… them…

“Yeah, I guess it is..” Asher ‘held’ his soul, allowing it to float about an inch above his hand. It was a mix of three colors. Half was red, half was orange, and there was a small spot of black, like an ink blot, in the center. 

“Interesting.. anyways,” Flowey started. “That’s the source of your very being. Down here, we get stronger by sharing LOVE. And not that lovey-dovey stuff, no. LOVE is different. And seeing how you must have been weakened quite a bit by that fall of yours..” The flower looked Asher up and down, noting the bruises that were already forming and his dirtied clothes. “…You need some LOVE.”

“But what is this… LOVE… you’re talking about? What does it mean?” Asher asked. He thought about the fact that if someone just happened to walk in at that moment, it would seem like he was asking what love was, and that would seem bad.

But the flower didn’t answer the question, instead he continued talking. “LOVE is shared through little, white, ‘friendliness pellets!’” Suddenly, five white pellets materialized by Flowey. Asher took a step back, eyes widened in a mix of fear and awe. “Go on, catch as many as you can!”

He watched the pellets come closer to him, aimed directly at his soul, and it was… scary.. he stepped out of the way and watched the pellets crash into the wall and disintegrate. 

“…You missed them! Let’s try again.” More pellets spawned, slowly moving towards Asher, who stepped out of the way again. When he turned to face Flowey again, he was startled.

The flower’s face was contorted into an ugly mix of rage and pure evil, plus a sinister grin. Something Asher had only seen a few times before. It was terrifying to say the least, and he took a few steps back in shock.

“You know what’s going on here, don’t you..?” Truthfully, he didn’t. Asher just had the gut feeling something bad would happen if he touched the pellets… “I don’t have the time to go through the whole spiel like ‘classic’ me does, so let’s just make this quick…”

Suddenly, Asher was surrounded by a thick wall of the pellets, escape was impossible. He looked around wildly in fear, and the flower just laughed…

[siren-darkocean]

AFTER FOUR FUCKING HOURS WHERE MY RIGHT HAND AND RIGHT ARM ARE NOW SORE, I GOT A HEADACHE FORMING FROM THE BRIGHT YELLOW/GOLD, PATIENCE I DIDN'T KNOW I HAD IN ME, SEVERAL REFERENCES AND MOST OF THAT TIME TAKEN DRAWING FUCKING FEATHERS!

I have finally finished my rendition of The Great Spirit himself; TOA Mata Nui!

Yes he has more face tattoos under the Ignika and chest plate, just shush, I wanna introduce those for a fic where at one point post Journey's End he's able to take off the Ignika but it has to be in physical contact with her person to keep himself formed, like around his neck so you can see the tattoos

Sugar Owl's Sims 4 Gold Tattoo CC really inspired the tattoos ever since I first saw them

Like agh their so beautiful 😍🥰 Sugar Owl's tattoo CC IS SO GORGEOUS agh

My downside their quality dropped the more I shrunk them for tracing so that's why they look so different

For those wondering, YES his wings do infact shed and grow more feathers in their place

Some time before the shedding Mata Nui will "nest" aka gather a bunch of pillows and blankets and just make a nest out of them, if you get too close to him during these moments your likely going to be trapped into hours of cuddling with him

His feathers grow back the same way a birds would, with a keriten casing around the new feather that'll easily run away when ready

With fallen feathers if holding them in his hand he can actually control their glow so it's like an alternative to a light stone

And yes, I gave him a fucking V-Line

I love V-lines so shush it

[riahlynn101]

"Of Heartaches and Headaches" (12).

Special thanks to Halogenrobtics (Or Yeagle on AO3) for helping me figure out some crucial plot points, as well as editing my writing!

Chapter Twelve

--

“Welcome to Salt Lake City News at 10 and thank you for joining us. For those just tuning in, we’ve been covering the disappearance of a child from the Little Friends Daycare center in Sunnyvale, Utah. For more on the story, we go to-”

Click.

A man looks blankly at the (now) dark TV screen in front of him. Tears run down his cheeks, and he chokes on his sobs. He’d recorded that broadcast a year ago. Nothing had come of it. Just a few thoughts and prayers on Facebook that amounted to absolutely nothing. 

He is.... alone. 

-x-x-x-

Vanessa mutters to herself, filling out an incident report. A wily kid got it into their tiny, underdeveloped brain to climb the statue of Freddy. They fell, but thankfully they hadn’t gotten very far up before their grip slipped. Unfortunately, the kid still wound up with a concussion and Vanessa had gotten an earful from their mother. 

Incident reports are the least fun part of her job. They take way too much time, and they’re just thrown away within the week. 

She scribbles down the necessary information. Pushing down with much more pressure than required. 

Her pencil-her last pencil-snaps. 

“Agh!” She shouts, frustration creeping in. 

Behind her the door to one of the many security offices slowly creaked open. 

Vanessa swivels towards the door. “Hello,” she calls out. “Anyone there?”

No one answers her. 

She shivers, some primal part of her brain telling her to shut and lock the door. Goosebumps form on her skin. 

“Hello!?” 

Again, no one responds. Even the annoyingly catchy pop songs that play on repeat over the loudspeakers have stopped playing. 

Reluctantly, Vanessa stands up.

Slowly, inch by inch, she creeps towards the door. Her only weapon is a clipboard, which she raises above her head. With each passing second, her anticipation grows. 

The door creeps open….

“Vanessa, hi- what are you doing!?” Her manager, thankfully one of the better ones, looks between Vanessa and the clipboard. “Are you okay? You don’t look well.”

Vanessa drops her arms. “Sorry, Muriel…I…. think I might have that bug that’s been going around.”

“Oh, no, that sucks. Well, no sense in keeping you when you don’t feel good. Take the rest of the day off.”

“Are you-”

Muriel shakes her head. “Don’t worry about us. The pizza plex will remain standing while you’re gone. Just promise to get some rest, alright?”

Mutely, Vanessa nods. 

-x-x-x-

The library in Hurricane is the least visited place in Hurricane. It sits on the edge of town. Some say it was built long before the town was established. Others tell of the many horrors that occurred within its walls; of ghosts that appear and disappear right before patrons’ eyes. Not that that makes much sense, but it doesn’t stop elementary schoolers with overactive imaginations from circulating the same rumors Luis heard way back when he was in school.

He unbuckles Gregory from his car seat. “This shouldn’t take more than five minutes,” Luis tells him. 

The inside smells the exact same as he last remembers it, like an old house that has been left to sit for decades on end - mildewy. The shelves are covered in a layer of dust, and only the librarian who looks up at them from her desk tells Luis that the library hasn’t been abandoned yet. 

If he remembers right, the library had a kiddy corner. Somewhere the adults could drop their children off with kid-friendly material to keep them entertained. His abuela used to take him here all the time as a kid, because the only other form of family-fun entertainment came in the form of Faz-Ent. (And his abuela and extended family could come up with a whole host of reasons why stepping foot in that place was inviting trouble.)

He found the corner and set Gregory down. “I’ll be right over there,” he told him, pointing to the display machine on the other side of the library. “Just have to research a couple things, and then we can go get ice cream. How’s that sound?”

Gregory gave him a thumbs up. 

“Cool.” Luis ruffles his hair. “Thanks, bud.”

It turned out using the newspaper display machine is a lot harder than his abuela made it look. After fiddling with it for a few minutes more, he did the walk of shame up to the librarian’s desk. 

“Excuse me, miss,” he started, “can you please help me with the newspaper machine?”

“The microform machine has been out of commission for the last decade.”

“Oh,” Luis says, unable to keep the disappointment out of his voice. “I apologize for bothering you.”

The librarian sighed. “Lucky for you, I happen to keep a record of all major in-town events dating back since the early 1900s.” She looked at him over her glasses. “At least I hope you’re looking for a major event, otherwise you might be out of luck.”

“Yes…I mean yes, I’m fairly certain what I’m looking for would constitute a major event.”

Ten minutes later, Luis found himself at a table surrounded by newspapers, some older than he himself and others only months old. From here, he could see and hear Gregory- who was having the time of his life, eyes widening with every picture book. 

He smiles, sorting through all the dates. 

Hurricane Elementary Millage Passes: What Does This Mean for the Future of Our Children?

(September 17th, 2019).

Local Hurricane Resident Wins the Jackpot! 

(November 1st, 2021).

Grand Opening of a Brand-New Restaurant! 

(January 4th, 2020).

His smile drops, reading the next headline.

Local Woman Found Dead!

(December 17th, 2019).

…and the next….

New Killer On the Prowl? 

(December 30th, 2019).

….and the next…

Two More Local Children Go Missing.

(February 10th, 2020).

Behavioral Therapists Advised Not to Practice in Hurricane!

(March 4th, 2020).

Is This the Work Of the Same Killer From the 80s? 

(April 6th, 2020).

Luis eyes a different pile, one that looks older. Pulling the pile over to him, he sets the papers out in front of him. 

Grand Opening! Fredbear’s Family Diner: Come One, Come All!

(May 4th, 1979).

He feels his stomach drop upon seeing the next few headlines.

Local Girl, Three, is Still Missing!

(November 3rd, 1980).

Boy, 8, Nearly Dies After Tragic Accident at Fredbear’s Family Diner.

(October 6th, 1983).

Five Children Missing!

(June 27th, 1984).

He recognized his uncle’s smiling face on the latter newspaper’s front page. Shaking his head to rid himself of any oncoming negative thoughts, Luis turned in his seat to look at the librarian.

“Miss, is it alright if I check all these out? I need to feed my son dinner, and-”

“Sure thing. Just make sure to bring them back in one piece….or else.”

He chuckled nervously. “Of…of course.”

Once Gregory and the boxes of newspapers had been secured in the backseat, Luis slid into the driver’s seat. He sighed, trying to put the headlines out of his mind. 

He promised himself he wouldn’t bring up the past. That this was all water under the bridge for them. 

“Ice cream…?” Gregory asks, eyeing the colorful pages of the book Luis checked out for him. 

Luis hums, straightening up. “Yeah, of course, bud. Do you want-”

His phone buzzes in the cupholder. “Hold that thought.” He pressed the answer button. “Hello?”

“Luis, hi! I got sent home-”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I was wondering if I could come over for a little bit? I haven’t seen Gregory all day, and….” Vanessa trails off.

“No, yeah, that’s fine. I’m picking up some ice cream, and then I’ll be right there.”

They mutter a series of goodbyes before finally hanging up. He looked back at Gregory. “Hey, guess what?”

Gregory looks up from his book.

“‘Ness is going to meet us back at the house earlier than expected.”

He bounces in his seat, eyes lighting up. “Yay!”

“But first we have to get ice cream.” He turns back around, buckling his seatbelt. “How does ice cream sundaes sound?”

[the-ace-of-the-moon]

this got derailed oops

im really sorry i havent refilled the queue lately and that i havent been posting much but i sorta have good news and bad news. Both are mostly related to me personally but obviously they have been (a/e)ffecting the blog so i will be sharing but to start off, i will be continuing this blog and its here to stay. If you want my whole rant/ breakdown its below the break but long story short good news i got a job bad news im having some life problems that are making my mental problems flare up like my anxiety and trichotillomania so i will do my best but i probably will only have scattered posting for a while sorry.

The good news is that i fimally got a job so i wont just be lazing about anymore and so far ive been enjoying it there! I dont know what i get paid but tomorrow is the last day of my 2 weeks of training, which is great because i actually got proper training and also i get to see how i do on my own after this!

The bad news is i have a lot of things that have been getting set aside even before i got the job and some of it is kinda approaching deadlines and while im trying to forcus on the new job, the job is taking a forefront priority as a commitment thats blocking everything else out. I have to return a couple audio books, start and finish a painting that im just blocked on, set up a day to talk to a councillor so i can apply to a new college, apply for college, and balance my social life with my down time. The new jobs sorta eclipsing everything so im trying to think of how i can even do college while having a job and my mom keeps pressuring me about college and in the meantime my friends keep trying to schedule things and i dont know how to react so my brain keeps just kinda fritzing and then rerouting to a different task so i end up ignoring them which is bad but i dont know how to explain to this one friend that shes kinda pushy and ive been really nice about it but its not realistic to expect someone to drive for hours on end not only frequently but also at insane hours of the night and not even out of town. Like just cruising the streets from 9 pm to 3 am. And enjoy it. And not get paid for gas or anything. Just tonight she said "oh yeah and [name redacted of friend who usually tags along] is leaving in a couple weekends (this person goes to college out of state so we dont get to see them) so we are gonna need to go on a drive soon" I dont want to? But if the friend thats leaving wants to go its 2 against 1 and honestly both those 2 have been having some drama of each saying the other interacts with their significant other too much and they keep talking to me about it and its exhausting? Like i get that both of their significant others live far away and in different time zones and have jobs but neither of my friends have jobs or can drive and i have to listen to their shit waiting for something to blow up and worry about how im gonna take care of my problems and its not like i can drop these 2 bc i keep burning bridges due to lack of social motivation so i only have 4 people i actually consistently initate contact with but 2 of those people are far away and have actual lives so i try not to bother them and the other 2 are these messes and really its the one that causes the most problems but all of this has been stressing me out which makes me anxious and kinda depressed and unmotivated to do anything and its all made my trich worse but ive been doing my best to control it but now today there was too much going on bc i had my axiety at the forefront, my problems on my mind, i had an exhausting family event to go to earlier, and then this shit gets shoved back into view and since im home alone i finally dug out the tweezers ive been trying to hide from myself and now half of the inner lashes on my top left lid are gone and i look fuckin wierd and im too keyed up to sleep and im ignoring my friend and i want to pluck more but ill just go for the left eye again bc it looks wierd and ill end up with no lashes and my coworker who's training me will ask and itll be awkward and my mom will see and be mad bc she thought the trich was just a phase when i was in elelmentry and why didnt i tell her about it still going on ant ittl be a whole thing which will make it worse and now im fucking crying. Or not bc apparently ive suppressed my emotions too much and too often that im fine now ok that was wierd any way sum up lifes good but simultaneously shitty so now my lashes and skin (didnt mention but i typically have really good skin unless im stressed real bad so now my face is starting to break out and get dry and irritated) are fucked up and i wont be posting as often until i can find the motivation to fill up the queue agan. Sorry you had to read this mess and apparent roller coaster of emotions (with an anticlimactic end) but hey now you know more than you ever would have about the admin of this blog other than that shes an aro(flux)ace witch

[starsandstormyseas]

“you were literally all over me. not that i mind.” Matt and Dmitri

Dmitri’s had a number of bad mornings. He’s woken up tied to chairs, woken up to a gun to his head, and on one occasion upside down over a pool of acid.

This one, though.

This one might be the worst of them all.

The first thing he was aware of was the morning light, and the piercing headache behind his eyes. Dmitri so rarely got drunk, he almost didn’t recognize a hangover when he had one. But he definitely did now. He could still taste the gin and beer on his tongue. And vodka. A lot of vodka.

And that was before he realized he was sleeping on the chest of Mia’s boyfriend. 

Who, too, had just woken up. 

Dmitri and Matt blinked at each other in dazed confusion, at first not quite understanding what was going on. Slowly, and then very quickly, they both realized neither were wearing shirts. 

Dmitri saw the panic on Matt’s face right before he felt it himself. In unison they both started scrambling, pushing, shouting. 

Matt nearly tossed him clear across the room. “Agh! Where are your clothes?!”

“Where are your clothes!” Dmitri snapped back, both of them scrambling to either end of the couch as if the other had rabies. Matt quickly grabbed a nearby blanket to cover himself, as if his chest hair wasn’t imprinted on Dmitri’s cheek. The yelling just made his headache all the worse. 

He watched as Matt’s face fell into his hands, and spoke the words they were both thinking. “What the fuck did we do last night?”

“Oh, nothing,” Dmitri made a face, flicked his hand absentmindedly, trying to appear much calmer than he actually was. “We got to talking about relationships, about our lives, about our failures. A lot of drinking was involved.”

“We did shots,” Matt mumbled into his hands. 

“We did shots,” Dmitri confirmed with a slow nod. Whose idea had that been? It had to have been his. When vodka, its always his stupid fucking idea. Dmitri never gets drunk. Would never allow himself to let his guard down. Why now? Why with him? 

“We talked about Mia,” Matt added. 

“We did.” Dmitri nodded, running a hand down his face. “And then you kissed me.”

“I did not!” Matt heaved upwards. A mistake. He scrambled to catch the blanket before it fell to the floor. 

“You were literally all over me!” Dmitri protested, throwing out his hands. He couldn’t help but smile. It was a natural defense mechanic, to hide his own growing panic. What if Mia found out? Dmitri had come to Matt in order to clear the air, to assess the level of romantic threat involved. This was not how he intended things to turn out. He dropped his arms, struggling to maintain a flippant air. “Not that I mind.”

“Oh, fuck off!” Matt threw up a hand angrily, turning on his heel, already storming away. 

“Hey, where are you going?” Dmitri called after him, wondering what he could do to salvage this situation.

“To clean your mouth out of mine!” The man called back, before slamming the bathroom door. 

Dmitri slumped against the couch, covering his face with his hands. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “That’s not all that was in your mouth.” 

Yes, he decided. They were both royally fucked. 

[whumping-to-conclusions]

Howdy there! Thanks for tagging me on the post. Could I get number 20 please? [voice trails off as I vanish behind a corner in awkward slinkiness]

This snippet introduces a couple of my OCs, Eleanor and Jesse, two definitely-not-in-love programmers in their mid-20s who you'll be seeing on here every now and then. They're a pair of cuties; I hope you like them.

----

Tap. Tap. Tap-tap. Eleanor was typing away at her computer when it started.

It was early afternoon at the office and she was editing a line of code, nose practically pressed to the screen, when suddenly, her vision went fuzzy at the edges. She rubbed at her eyes, thinking that maybe she had gotten something in them, but her periphery remained fuzzy. Lights and blobs of nameless colors started popping in front of her eyes.

“That’s weird,” she murmured.

Then came the pain.

A sharp, clear stroke of pain cleaved her forehead, like someone had driven a searing nail into her brain.

“Agh!” Eleanor took her glasses off and pressed her hands to her head, but it did nothing to abate the throbbing, aching pulse, the nail driving in further second after second.

“Eleanor? You okay?” Jesse’s voice floated out to her from the neighboring cubicle. Eleanor couldn’t even answer.

She heard footsteps approaching. Jesse’s hand touched her shoulder, the brush of a bird’s wing.

“Eleanor? What’s wrong?”

“Headache,” she gasped. “Really bad headache.”

More footsteps.

“What’s going on?” Mia’s voice. A pause. “Is… she okay?”

“I don’t know. She says her head hurts.”

Eleanor heard Mia bend down beside her, felt her feel her forehead.

“Eleanor, can you hear me? Look at me.”

Eleanor lifted her head from her hands and winced at the radiance from the fluorescent light above her. It was much too bright.

Mia was kneeling beside her, and Jesse and a few of her other coworkers were standing around her. She groaned a little. “Nothing―just―the head―and I can’t really see―it’s too bright in here.” She shivered and closed her eyes, pressing her hands to her head again.

“I think she has a migraine,” Mia said to Jesse. “She’s probably going to have to take the day off, especially if she’s got no meds for it.”

“I’ll take her home,” Jesse said immediately.

“You sure? I can take her if you’re busy with something.”

“No, I―I got it.” The others murmured their assent. Jesse’s hand touched Eleanor’s shoulder again. “Can you stand up?”

Eleanor nodded. Woozy from pain, she rose from the desk. It felt like she was underwater, her movements thick and slow. She opened her eyes a crack, looking down at the floor to avoid the fluorescent lights. Mia handed Eleanor her bag and glasses. Jesse offered his hand, and Eleanor took it, grabbing at the walls of the cubicle for support as he led her out of the office.

Jesse stopped and turned to face Mia again. “Uh, tell Ben I’m taking the day off.”

Twenty minutes later, Eleanor was huddled on Jesse’s couch as he brought her a cup of tea. The room was darkened, the lamps turned off to keep from hurting her head. The apartment was cluttered, but cozy--movie posters on the walls, CDs and books piled up around the coffee table and couches, not to mention the wealth of electronics scattered around.

Jesse handed her the cup and tried not to wince. He hated seeing Eleanor like this―her skin too grey, her hands shaking, her beautiful dark eyes dull with pain. He handed her the cup. “Drink this--my mother always made it when I was sick.” Eleanor took a sip, and Jesse glanced at her for her reaction. “You like it?”

Eleanor swallowed. “Yeah, it’s―it’s good. I just….”

Jesse knew that voice―she always had a little hesitation to her speech when she was afraid of inconveniencing someone. “What is it?”

Eleanor set down the cup on the end table. “Something cold sounds better, actually.”

Jesse nodded. “No worries, I’ll get you some ice water. Anything else?”

“And… a cool rag for my head sounds pretty good right now,” she admitted.

“Of course. I’ll be back in a second.”

Jesse dashed out to the apartment’s kitchen and poured a glass of ice water for Eleanor, then took a clean dish rag out of the cupboard and ran it under the faucet. He started wringing it out with more force than what was strictly necessary. The worst part of this whole thing was that there was absolutely nothing he could do to help Eleanor but keep her comfortable. His job as a programmer was all about fixing―tweaking the code, eliminating bugs, changing the programs to function exactly as intended. But this was a bug he couldn’t fix. He hated it.

Jesse returned to the living room along with the glass and cold rag. “Here you go, El.”

Eleanor took a sip and draped the rag on her head, brushing her dark bangs aside. Jesse took a seat on the other end of the couch and tried to let his mind wander. But he was still too fixated on Eleanor’s pain. He found himself looking back at her every minute or so, just to make sure that she was okay.

“You can go do something else if you want,” Eleanor said softly, after a while.

Taking care of you is what I want. “I’m staying here.”

Eleanor nodded.

The afternoon passed by and slowly changed into night, and Jesse’s stomach started to rumble. “I… kinda need some food,” he said. “How are you feeling?”

Eleanor gave a listless shrug. “Still hurts. And I feel a little sick to my stomach.”

Jesse took her hand and rubbed at her knuckles gently. “I’m sorry. Does food sound good or no?”

“I don’t really feel like eating.”

“Okay. Let me know if you want something later, though, yeah?”

“I will.”

Jesse turned on some classical music and thirty minutes later he sauntered out of the kitchen with a bowl of tomato soup.

“I’m sorry,” Eleanor said as he sat down on the couch again.

Jesse’s brows drew together. “For what? You haven’t done anything.”

“I... didn’t want to put you through this whole mess. I… I don’t want to be a burden on you.” She picked at the hem of her blouse.

Jesse set down the soup and looked her straight in the eyes. “Now, I want you to listen to me, El. You are not a burden. Don’t ever think that, okay?”

“Okay.” Eleanor nodded, then rubbed at her temples. “It just hurts so bad.”

“I know.” Jesse gave a sympathetic grimace. “Is there anything that can help take your mind off the pain? Any movies you like, or music? Or maybe… no, that’s a bit silly.”

“What?”

Jesse felt his ears getting hot. “I was going to suggest I could read a book to you, but, you know, if that’s childish or whatever―”

“No, that sounds nice. Really,” Eleanor added, leaning forward earnestly. “You seem like you’d have a good reading voice.”

“Okay. What sounds good?” Jesse got up and walked over to the bookshelf on the other side of the room and started running his index finger down the spines of some of the books. “I have all kinds of novels--mystery, fantasy, a little horror but you probably don’t want that right now….”

“Any fairy tales?”

Her voice was so soft, a bird’s wing brush, that Jesse wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly. “Sorry, what was that?”

Eleanor blushed and cleared her throat. “Sorry, I, uh, asked if you had any fairy tales.”

Jesse smiled. Look at her, all embarrassed about it. “I think I do, actually. Give me a moment.”

Jesse darted through the door on the opposite side of the living room and into his bedroom. It took a few minutes to locate the book, but eventually he found it stashed under his bed.

He walked back into the living room toting the huge volume and flopped down on the couch beside Eleanor. The cover was dusty, faded pink and green, and embossed with curly gold letters. Jesse rubbed the dust off the cover. “Hans Christian Andersen’s Compendium of Fairy Tales. My favorite as a kid, actually. Here we go.” He flipped to the first page and cleared his throat. “Once upon a time….”

Jesse had no idea how much time passed as he read tale after tale, keeping his voice lilting and soft as to not aggravate Eleanor’s migraine. Eleanor watched the pages turn with her lovely eyes, which seemed to grow just a bit brighter as he read. Eventually, Jesse realized that it was very silent, and looked over. Eleanor had fallen asleep against his arm, her head nestled in the hollow of his shoulder. Her breathing was deep and even.

Jesse didn’t want to disturb her, so he simply stayed like that for a while, listening to the sounds of the night, until the book slipped from his hands and he, too, drifted off with a head full of dreams.

[breathinglifeintomyoc]

Locklyle Pt. 4

Fanfic of the Lockwood & Co. series by Jonathan Stroud. I realize this doesn't resolve the cliffhanger, so soz for that! Thanks for the patience <3 You can read the whole story (thus far!) on my page and AO3. (Word Count: 750)

The night had been concernedly quiet — other than the constant noise from Loretta Key, of course. The earplugs were invaluable, but not wholly impervious to psychic noise, so by the time her, Holly, and George decided to take a snack break, her headache was not small. They had heard nothing from Lockwood or Kipps so they assumed they were having the same luck, or lack thereof. “Strange that Lockwood hasn’t found the source in the sitting room,” Holly said, nibbling delicately on a granola square, “He’s usually pretty fast about identifying them and that’s where the other teams had all their trouble.”

“I agree,” Lucy said, massaging her temples. She could picture Lockwood’s growing discontent with the lack of progress, but further musings about the way his eyebrows would furrow or how he would run his fingers through his hair were halted by the throbbing of her head. “You alright, Luce? You want to stay here?”

“No, I’m fine. Just irritated,” She replied, “Let’s try this flight of bedrooms. They’re the most likely place for a source after the thirty other most-likely-places we already tried.” George nodded and crammed the rest of his biscuits into his mouth, placing the wrapper on the ground. “Lockwood will know we took an early break from all the biscuit wrappers you left,” Holly scolded. George just shrugged and cracked his back, “Bah, snacks breaks always happen right before you find the source. It’s science. He won’t get a chance.”

Not that George was employed to be anything other than right, but Lucy still hated when he was. In truth they should have surveyed the room furthest down the hallway earlier, considering it was one of the few still partially furnished in the whole manor, the walls lined with bookshelves and paintings. “Temp’s down,” Holly said as they entered. “That’s a first,” Lucy muttered, “She still hasn’t shut up, but…” Articulating that the sound felt different, even though it sounded the same, was difficult, and Lucy wasn’t sure if it did — whatever that would mean — or if she was just getting ready for a fight. “Let’s just pull some books and see what happens” She said, drawing her rapier. “This bit is the coldest,” Holly said from the other side of the room, grabbing one of the tomes, “Agh!” The book slammed on the ground as Holly recoiled from the now-open space on the bookshelf where spiders were pouring out — their shiny black bodies, leaching across the shelf, reflecting the harsh moonlight. “We might be in the right place,” George said with a grimace, grabbing a thick volume and tossing it at the spiders, “Let’s get—” George was cut off by a shuddering and creaking as the shelf beside him and Holly shifted. Lucy nearly stumbled with the sudden deafening silence. George reached for the slightly ajar shelf, “Huh, a secret roo— ”

“Wait!”

But Lucy was too late and everything went to shit.

The order of events was hazy and it happened in a heart-beat. George’s cracking open the door released enough psychic pressure to send them flying, Loretta surged out and she looked unhappy, books were falling everywhere, someone threw a flare, it was a mess. Lucy couldn’t tell if she lost consciousness from taking book-damage, but when she regained spacial awareness, she was on the ground looking up at Lockwood’s back. He tossed a salt-bomb at the visitor, who definitely didn’t appreciate it, and Lucy pushed to her feet. “Glad you could make it,” She said. ‘It probably would have got them, otherwise,’ Lucy thought, sparing a glance at George and Holly who were strewn on the opposite side of the room than she saw them last. “The source is definitely in there,” She said, tossing a salt-bomb when the visitor’s interest seemed to turn away from them. ‘Kipps must be on it.’

“Go help him, I’ll keep her—”

The visitor looked at her and Lucy’s mind went white — her thoughts lost to an absolute breath-stealing pain. She numbly registered that her rapier was no longer in her hands, one of her ear-plugs was missing. She was falling. The world was consumed by Loretta’s screams and then it was worse. It was anguish. It was Loretta’s anguish. Lucy felt all of it.

For a moment beyond time, Lucy saw the gifts and embraces and smiles. A gentle man brushing a curl behind her ear, his fingers being replaced with cold steel and Lucy felt all of the confusion, the betrayal, and the pain.

[razorblade180]

Self interest

You know what’s worse than humiliation? Getting saved from it. Normally that’s what people want but not for Summer. Not when it came from the most insufferable people around. All the smarmy attitude and all the ego they’d bring was enough to make her stomach turn. She’d rather take a stab to the side; which is exactly why she was lipping through the snowy forest with just that predicament. It wasn’t so bad. So what if she was bleeding? No big deal. Could be worse. Her failed snowboarding trick could’ve sent her splintered board through worse areas or she could’ve flat out broken bones. Well….her knee did hurt, a lot. Okay maybe this was a bad situation.

Summer:Note to self, bankrupt that snowboard lodge for shoddy craftsmanship.

“Maybe you’re just trash?”

Summer:Oh I really…really don’t need this right now Shiva.

Summer activated the flame dust in her clothes to stave off any unwanted commentary. Unfortunately….

“News flash, that isn’t gonna work right now. You see the thing about body temperature and blood loss-”

Summer:I know! *winces* this isn’t my first puncture wound. You of all people know that. Just….let me think quietly for once?

“You don’t think critically on a good day. I’m not trusting your intelligence when you’re bleeding on fresh snow. Switch with me.”

Summer:You’re funny.

“And you’re actually dying.”

Summer:Heal it then. You’re good at that at least.

“This isn’t one of your idiotic cuts. You have a puncture wound. You’re in no shape or state of mind to- fucking stop being so useless all the time! Why am I explaining shit you definitely understand?! I’m not gonna let you die some pathetic death.”

Summer:Is it pathetic, or upsetting? It’s your self-preservation that’s making you act so don’t act like you give a damn. I’m perfectly happy ruining your life today.

“And the lives of your family apparently, or did the blood loss made you overlook that?

Summer:I……

“Sucks doesn’t it? Personally I don’t care much about their feelings towards you, but you have feelings. Annoying ones that attach you to them; preventing you from doing everything possible to get rid of me; well…most days anyway. How’s it feel knowing the only person who doesn’t give a damn about you is you? Even I have more interest in your own health.”

Summer:…..I need you to be absolutely true with me right this instant. You’re only interested in getting me safe right now? Do you plan on leaving immediately after?

“Nope.”

Summer:Oh for the love of-”

Her sentence was cut off by a snow covered branch that sent her falling forward. Pain radiated in her gut and the warmth it brought made her breathing raspy.

Summer:Can you at least not hurt anybody!? It wouldn’t even be in your best interest. How much can you do with a pathetic body in this state anyways.

“Huh, I guess you can think with a lack of blood. Very well, you have my word.”

Summer:Your word is shit.

“I think I like you when your like this.”

A strong chill washed over. The injured girl took a sigh of exhaustion, giving up resistance and waking up in her head. Still tired, she dared not move. For once her head felt comforting.

Outside, Shiva pulled out the wood. The shock was nothing to her and the blood froze within seconds while the wound began closing. A show of good faith made her take the broken board along as she continued walking. Her leg limbered up step by step. Before long, she started running. Feeling the wind hit her skin and cold nip her nose was like paradise.

Shiva:Finally! Being outside is much more pleasant when you’re not pestering me 24/7.

“That thing you just said, yeah, that’s how want to feel all the time!”

Shiva:Ah so that’s the feeling? Oh well, only one of us gets that.

“Why are you running?”

Shiva:I barely get to. Your legs are strangely stiff. I can feel your bones creak like an old door. Drink milk for goodness sake. It might actually make you grow.

“I don’t care about my height.”

Shiva:I wasn’t talking about your height.

“…….I don’t care about that either……”

Shiva:🎶I know what you think about.🎶 Lying is not your strongest skill. By the way, where’s home?

“Just take me down the mountain path.”

Shiva:Where’s that?

“E…Excuse me? I’ve been here plenty of times. How-”

Shiva:I’m not always around remember? You hate being cold so things get spotty for me.

“…How old am I?”

Shiva:Why would I know? Thirteen? Wait…your fourteen now.

“Fifteen.”

Shiva:Huh…good for you. Well not entirely. I thought your pass the age of milk support.

“I’m sick of talking to you.”

Shiva:Your loss. I’ll just…wander around. Down is progress.

Progress was slow and uneventful, but Shiva eventually found a path to follow. Being lost wasn’t an issue anyways. It was nice watching the scenery. Not to mention it was difficult to get lost when you’re sensitive to temperature. All she really had to do is go towards sources of heat. In this case, it was a lodge. Through trial, error, and cloudy information in her head, Shiva managed to find Summer’s room there. The wave of heat that hit her instantly gave her a headache. The inside of her throat became dry. Shiva didn’t even bother trying to get to a bed. She just let the girl’s body fall flat onto the board.

“Hey! What if you broke my nose!?”

Shiva:You wanted to bleed out in a forest. You don’t get to lecture me about your body. A believe a thank you is in order.

“I’m not thanking someone who acted in their self interest and did the bare minimum of something decent, which was not harming another.”

Shiva:And you say I’m cold? Have it your way. This aching, flat chested bag of bones you justify as a body is your problem to wash. *switches back*

Summer:I am not fla…agh….oh, oh this is pain. This is very much the pain of being alive. Of course you healed the wounds but not pain! You walked in this condition!?

“Blame yourself. Either say thank you next time so I’ll consider properly healing you, or be smart enough to take of your own body.”

Summer:….CCT scroll, call Penny!!!!

Penny:Salutations! You called?

Summer:Penny….I need medical care.

Penny:My goodness! What happened!?

Summer:

Summer:A very bad trick.

[starbornvalkyrie]

what we could be | part four

A/N: I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to update this one! This part fought me hard, to be honest. It’s a little shorter than the previous parts, but I just had to get past it to move the story along. I’ll leave you with this: things have to get worse before they get better. Enjoy!

warnings: language, smut, alcohol.

to recap: part three | what we could be masterlist

my fanfiction masterlist

my ask box for tags, prompts, and chit chat

“What did you just say?

He heard a huff on the other end. “I know you’re not that dense, Rowan,” she growled, “You know exactly what I said.”

“But… but…” he stammered. So unlike him. “But how?”

“How? Hm, well, when a man and a woman both consent to it, they get naked, then the man takes his dick and--”

Rowan snapped. “Aelin, shut the fuck up, I’m not an idiot.”

“Coulda fooled me,” she mumbled, and Rowan let out a sigh.

“You’re pregnant.”

“About nine weeks, yes.”

Rowan paused. “And it’s mine?”

Aelin barked a laugh with no humor behind it. “Unless you’re also accusing me of cheating, then yes, it’s yours.”

“I’m just trying to make sense of it all,” he retorted. Rowan’s head is spinning. It feels strange, not being able to control his emotions. He wants to suggest they start the conversation over, a little more calmly.

But of course, it’s Aelin. She’s a firecracker on a good day, and he had to assume she hadn’t had a good day in a long, long while. “What is there to make sense of? We fucked, you didn’t pull out, and now I have another life form growing in my stomach.”

He was about to correct her on the location of the baby when his brain caught onto her tone. “Hold on. Are you… mad at me?” he asked, rubbing his temples to chase away the impending headache that was forming. 

“Yes! No… agh, I don’t know! Damn hormones…” She said that last part more to herself than to him, and he was starting to soften up to her mixed feelings when she yelled, “You got me pregnant!”

“Well, it takes two to tango, Aelin!”

“That doesn’t even make sense!”

“Gah, Aelin!” 

“Rowan!” She screamed so loudly, Rowan could have sworn he felt the sonic boom from across the ocean.

He had to remember who he was talking to, had to think about what she’s going through. As calmly as he could, though there was still a slight bite to his words, he said, “I think… I think I need some time to process this. Can I call you later?”

There was a pause so long that Rowan had to check to make sure the call hadn’t dropped. After a minute, he heard her take a deep breath, something he knew she did whenever she was trying to prevent herself from saying something stupid. Or mean. Or all of the above.

“Later… Got it. Bye, Rowan.” And she hung up. Rowan wasn’t sure how long he stood there with his phone still to his ear, but he pulled it away and stared at it, willing all the answers he wished he knew to appear from out of nowhere. When did he even stand up?

Aelin is pregnant.

Aelin is pregnant with his child.

From the sounds of it, she’s going to keep it. Gods, they hadn’t even gotten that far in the conversation.

Aelin is pregnant.

Rowan is going to be a father.

He thinks he’s going to be sick.

Deep breaths, Rowan.

Rowan waited until he was sure he wasn’t going to lose the sandwich he ate on the way home, then left to find Fenrys.

Fenrys will either know what to say or sit with him while he drowns himself in liquor. Either way, Rowan just needs his friend.

Rowan ran from his housing to Fenrys’ classroom on Mistward’s campus and got there just in time to see him flirting with one of his classmates.

“Moonbeam.”

Fenrys looked up at him and grinned. Rowan wasn't sure what his own face looked like, but he could see concern flash through Fenrys’ eyes. 

“Hey, Whitethorn, why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” Fenrys clapped Rowan on the shoulder, trying to lighten his mood.

“Aelin is pregnant.” Fenrys’ smile faltered, his grip tightened ever so slightly. He looked over his shoulder to tell his classmate he’ll catch up with her later then guided Rowan towards the edge of campus where the bars are. Rowan had never felt more grateful to have a friend like Fenrys.

They made their way to the hole-in-the-wall tavern they found their first week in Wendlyn. The bar food is subpar, but they have a top notch selection of beers on tap. Rowan, however, went straight for three shots of tequila then an old-fashioned to sip. Mixing tequila and whiskey at three in the afternoon probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but Rowan didn’t feel like being smart.

Fenrys waited until Rowan ordered his second old-fashioned before speaking. “So… Aelin is pregnant.” It wasn’t a question, but Rowan nodded. “Wow. Okay, um, how do you feel about that?”

Rowan took a long sip of his drink before answering. “I don’t know man, I haven’t really given myself time to process it. She called to tell me, we fought, we hung up. And now I’m here,” he lifted his glass. Drink. “Gods, I’m also pretty sure we broke up before I left for the program here.”

“What do you mean you’re ‘pretty sure’? Are you together or not? And what on earth did you have to fight about?” Rowan drank for every question Fenrys asked, finishing the glass. His brain was finally getting muddled, his racing thoughts becoming an ugly, incoherent blur. He signaled for another drink. 

“I don't know, man. We fought before I left, and I told her we’d talk when I got back to Terrasen. Whatever the fuck that was supposed to mean.” Rowan thought drinking with Fenrys would help him, but it actually might be pissing him off instead.

Before Fenrys could pester him some more, he tossed back the old-fashioned in one go, and stood up on shaky legs to leave. “Hey, let me help you get back, dude.”

“No, thanks, you’ve helped enough.” A hurt look flickered across Fenrys’ face, and Rowan felt guilty for a moment. It wasn’t his fault Rowan was in a shit mood, but he couldn’t do anything about it in this state. He made a mental note that he hoped he’ll remember to apologize and have an alcohol-free conversation with him later.

The walk back to his housing was a blur. Rowan had to stop multiple times to settle his stomach, but luckily he made it back without ruining the pristine Wendlyn sidewalks with his vomit. He had hardly sobered by the time he found his building.

Rowan’s feet took him in the opposite direction of his room, but he couldn’t do anything to stop it. He didn’t care to. Next thing he knew, Remelle opened the door to his incessant knocking for the second time that day. She looked like she was about to yell at him again, so Rowan grabbed the back of her head with one hand and her waist with the other and crashed his lips to hers. She didn’t protest.

He pushed her back into her room and slammed the door behind him. He led her towards her bed, clothes flying along the way. When she laid back against her pillows and spread her legs, he didn’t hesitate to climb on top of her and enter her roughly. There was no passion in their coupling, only the urge to release, to forget.

They stayed in bed through dinner, alternating between laying there, panting, and fucking each others’ brains out. It wasn’t until Rowan slid into Remelle for the third time that night that he let himself realize what he was doing--let himself realize that even though he was in bed with Remelle, he was imagining he was with a different blonde across the sea.

He pulled out of her abruptly, much to her dismay, and gathered his clothes. Not bothering to don his shirt, he ran back to his room.

In the privacy of his own quarters, in the silence with his thoughts, Rowan allowed himself to cry.

---

After Aelin’s conversation--if she could even call it that--with Rowan yesterday morning, she thought she’d panic. But instead, she felt hollow, alone. She didn’t know what she was supposed to expect. Whatever it was, it wasn’t that.

She’d spent the rest of the day in bed, only getting up when Lysandra forced her to eat something and to take a bath where she stayed for two hours.

She’d wished that her mother was there to tell her what to do next, but then she cried thinking that her parents would never meet their grandchild. Her baby would only know about Evalin and Rhoe through stories, her memories. She’d always thought that if she did one day find herself pregnant, she’d have her mother there to guide her.

But her mother was dead, Rowan couldn’t even speak to her, and Aelin was alone.

Eventually, Lysandra got sick of Aelin’s wallowing, no matter how supportive she was trying to be. Aelin thanked the gods for keeping Lysandra with her. When they had dinner last night, Lysandra suggested she needed to go out and do something to distract herself from the pit Rowan left in her heart.

At the same exact moment, she’d received a text from Chaol asking if she was feeling better.

Lysandra took that as a sign and urged her to reach out and reschedule their coffee date.

So here she was, sitting at a table in UT’s campus coffee shop. Aelin sipped on her lemon-ginger tea--not her favorite, but it helped her stomach--as she waited for Chaol to get out of his class. She couldn’t stop checking her phone for any messages from Rowan, but there were none. Even a quick Instagram search revealed he hadn’t been active since yesterday morning. With a sigh, she silenced her phone and put it in her purse.

After a few minutes of people watching through the window, she spotted Chaol’s tall figure coming from the chemistry building. Aelin waved at him as he entered and watched as he went to order before joining her.

“Aelin! I’m so glad we could meet. You’re feeling better?” He sat down across the table from her, but the table was small and his legs were so long, his knee brushed hers. The subtle touch made her blush, and she tried to keep the color at bay.

She smiled at him. “A little. Enough to be out and about, not enough to scarf down a whole chocolate cake no matter how badly I wanted to.” He laughed and the sound made her heart flip. Damn pregnancy hormones.

“Well, when you feel like you can eat again, I’ll gladly buy one for you.” He moved to grab something from his backpack-- a stack of papers. “I know this is the last thing you’d want to think about right now, but before I forget, these are the notes and everything from the lectures you missed. You still have to make up a lab, but the professor said you have until the end of next week.”

Aelin took the papers and thanked him. She suddenly felt guilty for how sweet he was being to her without knowing the extent of the situation she’s found herself in. She likes Chaol a lot and didn’t feel that it was fair to string him along.

“Can I actually--”

“So, Aelin--” They both spoke then broke off at the same time, chuckling at their synchronicity. “You can go first,” he said.

She released a steadying breath through her nose. “Okay, there was a reason I wanted to meet with you today. I have something to tell you, but I’m not entirely sure how you’ll react.”

“It’s alright, Aelin. You can tell me anything, I won’t judge.” Too sweet. Too damn sweet, this guy.

“Okay,” she repeated. “I- I’m pregnant.”

Aelin watched Chaol as he processed the bomb she just dropped. She noticed his eyes widen ever so slightly, his mouth gaped open. After a few agonizing moments, he shook his head to clear the daze. He was about to reply when the barista called his name to pick up his order. 

With an apologetic glance, Chaol stepped away. Aelin closed her eyes, mourning whatever could have happened between the two of them. She opened them when she heard Chaol take his seat across from her once more.

“So, you’re pregnant.”

“I am.”

“And I’m assuming… Rowan is the father.” She nodded apprehensively, knowing his acquaintanceship with Rowan was tense, at best. The two men never clicked. They had only met once last semester when Aelin and Chaol had to work late for an inorganic chemistry lab, and whatever vibes they gave each other were not pleasant. Ever since, she tried to avoid the two of them ever crossing paths again, though Rowan frequently expressed his displeasure whenever she brought up their work in the lab.

“Wow. How are you really feeling then? You’ve been having morning sickness, I take it?” Aelin tried not to show how shocked she was by the genuine concern and automatic acceptance in his voice. Why couldn’t this have been Rowan’s reaction?

Nonetheless, she nodded. “It actually hit me for the first time when we originally planned our coffee date. I went straight to Lysandra’s house to take a test and had it confirmed at the doctor at the end of the week. I think I’m still processing it all, actually.” 

“That’s understandable, Aelin, this is huge. And Rowan, does he know? He’s studying abroad in Wendlyn this semester, right?”

Aelin let out a humorless laugh. “Oh yeah. He knows. Not that he cares.”

Chaol narrowed his eyes, likely figuring out how their conversation had gone, but he didn’t pry for more details. Aelin was grateful for that. Grateful for him. “Well, I’m not going anywhere, Aelin. I get it if you’re not looking to date anyone while you figure this out with Rowan, but I still want to be around you.” He reached across the table and took her hand in his. “I like you a lot, I have for a while now, in all honesty, but a friendship with you is better than nothing.”

Aelin stared at their joined hands, tears welling in her eyes. “Thank you, Chaol. Your support means more than you know.”

He leaned across the table to kiss her on the cheek, and Aelin couldn’t stop her blush this time. They steered the conversation to other topics, talking endlessly about everything they could think of.

Though Aelin was sad at the thought of what could have been, she felt hope reignite in her chest.

---

Thanks for reading! If you’d like to be added to/taken off my general SJM tag list just send me an ask! i’m very good at losing them in the comments. love y’all!

@maddymelv​ || @lucy617​ || @tillyrubes10​ || @faerie-queen-fireheart​ || @tottenhamboys20​ || @the-third-me​ || @superspiritfestival​ || @rolltide7​ || @courtofjurdan​ || @sleeping-and-books​ || @aelinchocolatelover​ || @julemmaes​ || @sorrehnotsorryy​ || @courtofjurdan​ || @acourtofaelinbryceandfeyre​ || @darlinminds​ || @lucieisabooknerd​ || @queen-of-glass​ || @jlinez​ || @abookishfreak​ || @stardelia​ || @ladywitchling​ || @rockgirl321​ || @sjmships​ || @thewayshedreamed​ || @mamakramer​ || @meowsekai​ || @sweetlyvillainous​

[fabulouspotatosister]

Reset - Part Two: Day Out

a/n: Hello and welcome to part two of Reset! This one’s the last of the rewritten chapters - after this one is all new stuff. I hope you’re all having a good day/night where ever you are, and I hope you enjoy this part!

Word count: 3671

[Part One] [Part Two: You are here!] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Part Five]

Birdsong. Today, you wake up to birdsong.

 The curtains are still drawn, sunlight filtering through the gauzy material, casting the whole room in a soft light only reserved for soft moments on television. You roll over and inhale the smell of vanilla and roses - you made a very good choice shopping for detergents the other day. Some of them smell too much like chemicals to be real.

 John’s sleeping next to you. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him sleep so deeply - dressed in a simple button up shirt and comfy pajama pants, he looks more peaceful than he usually does on a daily basis. It’s a good look on him. You smile and sling an arm over his waist, grimacing when he shifts in his sleep.

 John shifts again, mumbling something in a language you don’t recognize. You’d have to ask him about it later, when he was more awake - now, you were doing something nice for him. John didn’t like sleeping in, he liked to be up bright and early. If he was sleeping in today, he must have been busy last night. What was he even doing last night?

 You watch him breathe deeply, looking at the way his hair falls over his face because he never bothers to comb it. His lips are parted slightly and he just looks so young like this. You reach out to cup his cheek; John melts into your touch, his sleepy self apparently still capable of handling affection, and you hold back a laugh. His lips quirk up into the smallest of smiles when you stroke his cheek.

 You try to memorize the features of his face - when your gaze falls onto his closed eyes, you frown. He’s asleep, and resting, but his eyes look darker. Tired, somehow. You smile sadly. He’s always so busy...

 You suck in a breath when he peers up at you, glazed, sleepy eyes partially hidden behind a head of messy brown hair. You wince when you hear him mumble something under his breath, confused.

 “Hi,” you whisper, moving your hand up to tangle it in his hair, “sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

 “S’okay,” John mumbles, still groggy. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, trying to blink the sleep out of his eyes. “Good morning.”

 It comes out more like a question, and you laugh. “Good morning to you too.”

 John hums, and you settle into a comfortable silence. When you pull at him slightly, tugging at his shirt to bring him closer to you, he doesn’t pull away. He rests his head in the crook of your neck and you giggle when you feel his breath tickle your neck.

 “Sweet dreams?” you ask, still keeping your voice low, and he shakes his head.

 “Yeah, I think so.” He presses his lips to your neck and doesn’t move away. “Did I snore?”

 “Do you even snore?” You laugh, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “I don’t think so.”

 “Don’t lie.”

 “You’d know if I was lying, sweetheart.”

 It’s moments like this where you realize how lucky you are to be here with him. And that you have to remember to always be grateful, because this is your life forever. Lying with him of the softest bed you’ve ever own, just under the covers, hidden from the world. Nothing is wrong, you think. This is perfect, he is perfect, and nothing has ever been wrong. You’re sure about that.

 “You’ve gotten awfully quiet,” you say, daring to raise your voice just a little higher, just like how the sun is rising a little higher too. You don’t want to get out of bed yet, though, so you squeeze John a little tighter. “Don’t tell me you’ve fallen asleep on me.”

 “It’s tempting,” John whispers, lifting his head to look at you. The soft light grows brighter, illuminating his pretty face and that boyish smile that you love so much. “But I could be looking at you.”

 “Don’t make me blush.” But you are blushing. You hold John’s gaze and hope that he doesn’t see the way your cheeks must be darkening. “I mean it! You could have work today.”

 John raises his eyebrows. “You’re in for a surprise then.”

 “What do you mean?”

 “It’s my day off,” John supplies, grinning brightly. Something whispers in the back of your mind.

 You frown at him. “And you didn’t mention this to me yesterday because..?”

 “Surprise!” John says brightly, tapping the side of your nose with his finger.

 “Close your eyes - Surprise!”

 Your frown deepens - surprise, now why did that sound so familiar? You try to dig through your memories to find out why it sounds so familiar, but your mind feels foggy... and blurry. Like flying through a cloud and getting turbulence. Maybe it’s too early to think about that.

 “Hey,” John says softly, peering into your eyes, his brows furrowed in concern, “Are you alright?”

 “Are you sure you’re alright? You’re not feeling well.”

 Definitely too early to think about it.

 You shake your head and plaster a smile onto your face. “I’m - yeah. Everything’s fine.” Move the conversation away. This isn’t where this is supposed to go - “How did you get a day off?”

 John almost looks offended, pouting at you like a big child. “Are you doubting my abilities? The hard work I’ve done? Who are you and what have you done with my wife?”

 Your wife... your lovely wife... You’re still smiling. You pat his cheek affectionately even though he’s still looking at you with an exaggerated mix of disgust and horror. “Your wife is right here,” you say, but it feels a lot like a lie, and it shouldn’t feel like a lie because you’re married, aren’t you? You are his wife. “And she’s asking you what you’re going to do with your day off.”

 “All the time in the universe,” John hums. You nod excitedly. “Well, I did have some plans.”

 “Plans?” You lean closer to him. He snuggles up to you, draping an arm over your waist. “Now I’m interested.”

 “D’you remember our first date?”

 You pause at that. You try to go looking in your brain again, but the fog is still there, keeping you out from things you probably should be knowing - there’s nothing about a first date, and when you look even further, nothing about a wedding either. Your head is starting to hurt a little, a dull ache between your temples. Like a threat. “No.”

 “No?” John’s eyes widen. “Blimey. You don’t remember? Linda’s diner. You ordered us milkshakes.”

 “I... did?”

 For a moment, you wonder what’s wrong with him. You keep looking, you keep trying to go back, but there’s nothing there. Why don’t I remember - A jolt of electricity runs down your spine, like static electricity? The dull ache between your temples goes away, and for once, your mind is completely clear, and you completely remember.

 Your mouth moves. “Silly me. Of course, I remember. I remember it all.”

 “Yes! Yes, of course.” John sits up quickly, the sheets bunching underneath him. “What do you say? Let’s have a bit of a throwback, eh?”

 You grin widely, but that’s just your mouth moving. “I say yes.”

 Your morning routine passes by in a blur. You’re sitting in front of your mirror, blow-drying your hair, laughing when John takes the blow-dryer from your hands and starts miming a shooting gun. John places his hands on your shoulders and you reprimand him for moving you when you’re doing your makeup – he just laughs and tells you you’re beautiful either way. He says the same thing when you’re picking out clothes. It’s all perfect, just like a movie.

 “Well, you clean up nice,” you tell John as he stands near the front door, fiddling with his necktie. He smiles, holding his hand out, and you take it graciously, feeling like a princess. “Very gentlemanly of you.”

 “Are you ready?”

 “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

 “Alright, then – allons-y!” John cheers, swinging the door open to reveal a beautiful blue sky. “French for –”

 “Let’s go,” you both say at the same time. A beat of awkward silence passes before you shake your head and laugh. John joins in, and the sound is beautiful. He links his arm with yours and you start to make your way to the diner.

 The streets of your quaint little town are quiet today. You frown at the silence. All you hear is birdsong. And the birdsong is beautiful, of course, but it’s just birdsong. There should be people there. Neighbors, especially, like the ones that came to your wedding. You glance at John, walking beside you – he’s frowning too. He’s noticed it. “John, do you-”

 “Yes,” he says lowly. He stops, straightening, squinting at his surroundings. “Where are our neighbors?”

 “I don’t know,” you reply, unsure, and John’s face turns serious.

 The streets are empty. They feel like they’ve never been empty, but they’re empty now and the whole place feels like a ghost town. You and John stand still on the sidewalk. You listen for anything – distant music, distant talking – anything that might tell you that all your neighbors are just far away, but there’s nothing. Nothing but the sound of the wind, and birdsong.

 Where are all the people? Who are your neighbors? Did you ever have neighbors? Your headache comes back, a pounding pain in your temples now, still a threat. You groan, and John towards you in concern. Stop thinking.

 “It’s too quiet. A small town like this shouldn’t be too quiet,” John continues. “Something’s wrong, I never did like birdsong that much – agh!”

 “John!”

 John clutches his head – he feels the pain too, somehow. You reach out to him and he recoils, pulling away like the pain is coming from you, and your heart breaks at that. The questions burn in your mind and suddenly they’re doused with water like they were never there. The pain is gone now. All you had to do was stop thinking.

 You have very, very lovely neighbors.

 “You okay?” you ask John, and he nods, looking dazed. There’s a far-away look in his eyes.

 “Yeah,” he replies, out of breath. “Fine. Let’s keep going, yeah?”

 They’re all old, and it’s a quaint, quiet town. It’s supposed to be this quiet.

 …

 The diner is as fragrant as you remember. There’s that thing, about smells and memory and how they’re connected, and the diner is solid proof of it. Just opening the doors and walking in makes you feel nostalgic about a past you never had. John takes in a deep breath too, and his face breaks into a wide smile.

 “What do you say we take a seat at the counter?” John leads you to the stools, helping you to your chair before he sits down. Behind the counter is a young lady, younger than you, with a head of curly red hair and bright eyes. She looks so innocent and nice, and you wave to her politely. She waves back. Her arm is a little stiff.

 “H-hello,” she stutters, pulling out a notepad from her apron, “how may I… help you today?” You smile at her warmly – somehow her voice sounds familiar.

 But poor girl. She’s stuttering so much, and she looks so pale. It must be her first day on the job with nerves like that. “I’ll have a banana milkshake and fries, please,” you say, as gently as you can. The waitress doesn’t ease up, and grows even paler.

 John takes your hand from under the table. “I’ll have whatever the lady’s having,” he says smoothly. The girl nods, scurries to a door, and closes it very slowly behind her. It doesn’t make a sound at all.

 “The lady?” You turn to him. He shrugs and grins. “That’s terrible. You’ve been watching too many romcoms.”

 John lifts your chin with his thumb. “Is it working?”

 “Is it working?”

 “Do you want me to tell you the truth?”

 “Do you want me to tell you the truth?” you say. Your mouth is dry, but you force a smile and swat his hand away playfully. “No.”

 He pouts at you. “I’ll try harder then.”

 The waitress comes out of the backdoor with a tray of milkshakes and fries. The milkshakes are in those nice, tall glasses with the pretty straws, just like your first date. Before the waitress can set the tray down in front of you, she spasms – the tray clatters onto the counter, but the milkshakes fall onto the floor with a loud crash and make a puddle of frothy liquid under her.

 “Oh no!” the waitress shouts. “Oh no! Oh –”

 John frowns and stands up, craning his neck to look at the mess. “Are you alright? I can help, if you’d like –”

 The waitress is still shouting, frozen in place. “Oh no! No! Oh no! How may I – may I -!”

 John raises his arm to shield you – her cries sound mechanical, stilted, and when you listen closely you can hear the faint whine of microphone feedback. She sounds like a robot – a real one, hiding complex mechanical circuitry? Maybe a perception filter, so she’s something else entirely. Or –

 The waitress, still stuck in place, repeated cries coming out of a mouth that isn’t moving, flickers.

 You lock eyes with John. He stares at you for a moment and the far-away look in his eyes fades away – then, slowly, he nods, and lowers his arm. He reaches for the tray on the counter, and throws it to you –

 And with all your strength, you fling the tray at the waitress. She lets out a shrill noise before disappearing completely, blinking out of existence like she was never there. The spilt milkshakes are gone too.

 “Good one,” the Doctor pants.

 You nod at him. “Yeah, yeah I think so.”

 Pretty bad first date, huh? Your head still feels fuzzy, even though you’ve already pulls yourself out of the woods – you remember the same diner, the same conversation, different scenarios. One where the waitress didn’t malfunction, one where you went home, one where you kissed on the way back… You shudder and suck in a breath through your teeth, your brain bursting at the seams.

 “I get it,” you mutter, “I get the wiping. There’s too much to think about.”

 The Doctor stays silent, occasionally glancing up the ceiling. Then his gaze travels to the windows. When you follow it, you see there’s nothing outside anymore. Just a black void for miles and miles, like a video game with missing textures.

 “Is that why we’re not moving?”

 “Argh,” the Doctor groans, pushing his hair out of his eyes, “I can’t figure it out! They must have put a dampener on my brain, making me think all those things about you -”

 Your heart twists painfully. Right. Implanted memories.

 The Doctor presses his hands to his eyes, groaning – and then he stops, looking at you in surprise. “But you – do you have one?”

 “I wouldn’t know, I don’t have a brain like yours,” you say. “What do you mean a dampener?” The Doctor furrows his brows in thought.

 “Right,” he says quickly. “Human brain. Dampeners don’t take away memories, they store them somewhere else, or they usually cover them up. Like wallpaper. But I need to check if you have one – that could explain everything.” He frowns and peers into your eyes – and this isn’t you thinking like he’s your husband, this is all you, because you think his eyes are still beautiful. He reaches out, his fingertips hovering just at your temple. “May I?”

 “May I… what?”

 “Telepathic link,” the Doctor explains, “Time Lord thing. I just have to check whether they’ve put a dampener on you too. It could explain where we are, and if this is a simulation or not.”

 Worry rises from your stomach to your heart. Your traitorous, traitorous heart. The Doctor seems to notice, and pulls his hand away, trying to reassure you with a smile. You hate to admit that it works, because it always works when it’s him. “Trust me. Don’t worry, I won’t go looking where I shouldn’t.”

 Promise? You take in a deep breath and nod. “I trust you.”

 It’s the truth, and it’ll always be the truth.

 “Okay.” The Doctor presses his fingertips to your temple, and closes his eyes. You close your eyes too at the sudden wave of calm that washes over you. “Good.”

 The feeling of the Doctor reaching into your brain isn’t painful. Instead, it feels curious – and it feels like a hug. Warm and safe and comforting, just like he is at the best times. It’s like a light squeeze, and it passes as quickly as it arrived.

 When you open your eyes, the Doctor’s eyes are wide and confused.

 “You don’t have one,” he mutters. “You don’t have a dampener. Why would they put one on me and not you?”

 “H- hello? Is thing on? Can you hear me?”

 “Yes, we can hear you! Hello!” the Doctor calls out. “Who are you?”

 “I’m – I’m Marlene, you should recognize me? You’ve heard my voice before.”

 “Yes, we have,” you say. “Hello, Marlene.”

 Marlene squeaks. “Oh, that sounds weird from a human. Pretty average name for a Gargontian, I know, well I didn’t pick it so -”

 The Doctor perks up, all of his previous seriousness disappearing. He claps his hands together and grins. How does he do that, flip from one side to the other in the blink of an eye? “A Gargontian? We’ve been to your planet! Incredible technology, all invented in such a short time span.”

 “We really enjoyed the visit,” you add helpfully.

 “Oh, thank you,” Marlene says, sounding a little more confident. She coughs. “We’re very proud of our advancements.”

 “Marlene,” you start, laying a hand on the Doctor’s arm (you see him swallow in the corner of your eye and decide not to say anything about it), “can you help us get out?”

 “That’s the plan, hopefully. In, uh –” The sound of keyboard clacking – “About fifteen minutes, the Director will come up here and ask me to wipe you again. I’m already using so much power just doing this. The thing is, you’ve been here longer than any of our other test subjects ever, and all that memory wiping that we do is not good for you. Especially for those with less developed brains. No offence.”

 “None taken,” you say, scrunching up your face. Less developed brains. “What does it do? What happens?”

 “Oh, there’s no way to sugarcoat it! You die!” Marlene says, her tone light. You and the Doctor lock eyes, both of your eyes widened in fear. “Oh, don’t worry. You’re not going to die yet, but 11B, you are pretty close. This simulation can only run on one mind. Again, less developed brain than other races. No offence.”

 “Yeah, I’m starting to take offence,” you whisper to the Doctor.

 “It’s not your fault,” the Doctor whispers back. “So, Marlene, what’s the plan?”

 “The plan is to make it look like you’ve been wiped, but you actually haven’t.”

 The Doctor grins at you. “Brilliant, Marlene!”

 “Here’s the thing: you have to act like you’ve been wiped or you’ll -” Marlene goes quiet. You hear a shuddering breath before she starts talking again. “Nevermind. I can’t get you off the ship, but I think I can get you out of the sim. Just give me a day. You have to, as they say, keep the charade up.”

 “Keep the charade up,” you repeat. Marlene hums.

 “Yes, ma’am. You still have to act married. That should be easy though! I’ve looked at your files, you guys have the highest compatibility rate out of all the test subjects we have! It’s incredible, really.”

 “What does that mean?” you ask, dread creeping up on you.

 “Well, it means you’re a good couple! You’re really good together! Almost like you’re already in a relationship, am I right?”

 “NO!” you and the Doctor shout in unison.

 “Sorry, but that’s proof. Compatibility was at least a hundred for you two. Of course, we searched and also found someone named Rose -”

 “Right, that’s enough,” the Doctor says quickly. You know how he tries to hide his sadness, but his eyes are just too expressive. They betray him everytime he wants to keep something hidden. Rose Tyler, you recall. You can’t help but feel bad, and then a little jealous, and then guilty for feeling jealous.

 “Anyway, I’ll just –” Marlene shouts something that you’re sure is a swear in her language. “Be quiet!”

 “MARLENE!”

 “Yes, ma’am!”

 “What are you doing? Are you messing with them? You know I told you to create the –“

 “Yes, ma’am, I am!” Marlene stutters, all of her previous confidence gone. Poor girl. “just waiting for the reset call.”

 “Do it,” the other voice growls. The voice grows deeper, and monstrous. “Fifty times, fifty resets. If they fail the next one, I kill them both.”

 Fifty resets? The question is unspoken. You reach out for the Doctor without looking, and he grabs your hand tightly.

 “Ma’am, the prize – I mean, yes, ma’am. Of course.”

 “If they don’t last a day tomorrow, they’re as good as dead. Understood?”

 “Completely, ma’am.”

 The Doctor tips forward, and you catch him – he leans against you heavily, his eyes fluttering shut as he falls boneless against you. His head drops into the crook of your shoulder, just like in the morning. Your face burns at the realization.

 “Never dropped off like this before,” he mumbles, melting into your touch, and you fall to the floor under his weight.

 “I’m trying to make this as gentle as I can,” Marlene says softly. “I’m sorry for this.”

 You start to feel hazy, and you fall asleep on the floor of a diner in nowhere with the Doctor in your arms.

...

Tag list: @starlingelliot​ (<3)

[guardianofrivendell]

PERFECT SECRETS - CHAPTER 3

Legolas x OC

Requested: Nope

Summary:  Mira. A short and unusual name for a short and unusual Elf. After an audience with Galadriel goes sideways, she leaves her birthplace Lóthlorien and the Elves for good.  That is until a certain Gandalf asks for a favor. Come along on her journey, as she reluctantly agrees to accompany Gandalf on the quest to destroy the One Ring.  She befriends every Fellowship member, except one. Legolas and Mira are water and fire from the very first moment they laid eyes on each other. Will this be an obstacle during the quest or is it going to make everything just a little more interesting?

Warnings: None, just men being men. 

Masterlist Perfect Secrets

THE COUNCIL OF ELROND

While Gandalf and Mira climbed the stairs, she asked him why he had summoned her. Gandalf wouldn’t say, only telling her to be patient and that everything would be cleared up at the ‘Council of Elrond’. 

When the pair reached the top of the stairs, they were welcomed by Lord Elrond.

The Council hadn’t begun yet, and Mira was a bit surprised to see more people than she expected to be at a secret meeting. A delegation of Elves, Dwarves, Men and one small Hobbit were seated in a circle, around a rock with a flattened surface. 

They were looking towards her and Gandalf. She could hear them mutter amongst themselves asking who the hooded lady was. She smirked confidently. Let them guess, she thought. They’ll never know. 

Elrond gestured to take a seat in the two remaining empty chairs, one next to the Hobbit and one between Legolas and the other Elves. Did Elrond suspect something?

Mira looked back at him, but he had already turned around to take a stand at the head of the circle. Gandalf took the seat next to the Halfling, whispering a few words into his ear. She hesitated for a few seconds, before walking around the outside of the circle to the wall of the building, feeling the eyes of everyone piercing her back. She turned around and leaned with her back against the wall, arms crossed, one foot over the other. 

It was her way to say she didn’t belong to the Elves nor Men, keeping the mystery alive. Plus she preferred to be in the background anyways. Gandalf nodded at Elrond, signaling that the Council could begin.

“Strangers from distant lands, friends and old. You have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle-Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it, you will unite or you will fall. Each race is bound to its fate; this one doom. Bring forth the ring, Frodo,” Elrond asked the small Hobbit. Frodo stood up and carefully placed a small golden ring on the centered rock. 

“So it’s true,” one of the Men gasped, his eyes fixed on the ring. “In a dream, I saw the Eastern sky grow dark. But in the West a pale light lingered. A voice was crying: your doom is near at hand. Isildur’s Bane is found.” He was on his feet now, and got dangerously close to the ring. 

“Boromir!” Elrond warned him. He sat down at once. 

“Frodo, will you tell us how this ring came to you and the troubles you have faced already?” Gandalf asked the Hobbit. Everyone listened to his story, how he inherited the ring from Bilbo, that he had encountered Black Riders, fought against them and got stabbed by a Morgul Blade in the process. 

Mira had listened to him intently. It was remarkable how such a small being had endured so much in so little time, there was no doubt this was the One Ring. Hobbits never cease to amaze her.

The sky turned dark and ominous. Gandalf’s voice became deeper, there was a strange echo when he spoke. The moment he spoke the first words, Mira got a splitting headache. 

“Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul” (One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them)

Mira shook her head, trying to get rid of the headache. She didn’t want anyone to notice something was wrong, but she recognized the pained expressions from the other Elves. She was not the only one who felt it. 

As soon as Gandalf finished, the sky cleared and so did the headache.

Lord Elrond gasped, definitely not happy with Gandalf’s actions.

“Never before has any voice uttered the words of that tongue here in Imladris!”

“I do not ask your pardon, Master Elrond, for the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of the West! The Ring is altogether evil!”

Well, he does have a point there, Mira thought to herself. Gandalf had been right, they were on the verge of war. If they had the One Ring, Sauron would do anything to get it back. 

“It is a gift. A gift from the foes of Mordor. Why not use this ring? Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of my people are your lands kept safe! Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against him!” Boromir demanded. 

“You cannot wield it! None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master,” the ranger answered him. 

“And what would a ranger know of this matter?” Boromir sneered back. 

At this point, Legolas stood up from his chair. 

“This is no mere ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance.”

“This is Isildur’s heir?” Boromir asked, just as Mira thought the exact same thing.

“And heir to the throne of Gondor,” Legolas countered confidently. 

Mira would say it was more arrogant than confident but maybe she was a bit biased. 

“Havo dad, Legolas,” Aragorn said to him, trying to calm him down. (Sit down) Legolas obeyed, but kept a stern look on Boromir. Mira could tell the tension was building. It wouldn’t take much before they’d start killing each other. She hadn’t missed the angry glances between the Elves and Dwarves. 

“Gondor has no king. Gondor needs no king,” Boromir muttered angrily before taking a seat again. His attitude was starting to get on Mira’s nerves. What was it with men and their pride, always wanting to have the last word?

“Aragorn is right. We cannot use it,” Elrond intervened, trying to clear the tension. “You have only one choice. The Ring must be destroyed.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” One of the Dwarves jumped out of his seat and tried to destroy the Ring, shattering his axe in the process. 

Mira chuckled, noticing the stunned expression of the Dwarf upon seeing his ruined axe. She liked this one, he was straightforward and didn’t hesitate. 

“The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloín, by any craft that we here possess,” Elrond said to him. “The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm of whence it came. One of you must do this.”

He looked around the circle, but there was no reaction. 

Boromir sighed heavily. “One does not simply walk into Mordor.” 

He continued warning everyone about the dangers Mordor held for anyone who dared to cross the Black Gates. Legolas interrupted him, clearly fed up with the man of Gondor. 

“Have you heard nothing of what Lord Elrond has said? The Ring must be destroyed!”

“Well yes, Elf Boy, we all heard that,” Mira muttered silently, rolling her eyes. She knew he would be the only one to hear it. Legolas’ head snapped in her direction, his eyes shooting daggers at her. Before he could say something, Gimli interrupted.

“And I suppose you think you’re the one to do it?” he shouted angrily at Legolas. “I will be dead before I see the ring in the hands of an Elf!”

Mira had to admit that was taking it a bit too far. She might be hiding the fact that she was an Elf, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t proud of being one. The others took this as their cue to start arguing. Even Gandalf and Elrond took part in the fight, which surprised her. She had taken a few steps away from the wall, so she was ready to intervene if necessary. 

The only one who wasn’t participating was Frodo, he was still in his chair seemingly deep in thought. Mira also stayed out of the argument, and kept an eye on everyone in the room. 

All of a sudden Frodo’s eyes focused again and he said, “I will take it!”

Nobody except Gandalf and Mira had heard him. Gandalf closed his eyes in defeat, clearly not happy with the Hobbit’s suggestion.

“I will take the Ring to Mordor,” Frodo repeated, finally getting everyone’s attention. His expression changed once he noticed everyone staring at him, almost looking shy. “Though I do not know the way.”

Gandalf kneeled in front of him, placing his hand on his shoulder. 

“I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear.”

Frodo looked very grateful. He should be, Mira thought, it was a very dangerous task and he should accept all the help he could get. She did think it was very brave of him to volunteer. Stupid too. But brave nonetheless. 

In the next few minutes, Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli and Boromir had offered their help as well. Mira couldn’t help but notice Legolas’ smirk when he looked at her. Was he challenging her? 

“Oi! Mister Frodo is not going anywhere without me!” Another Hobbit was coming out of the bushes, rushing towards the group. 

Elrond looked sternly at him, but Mira could see a hint of a smile. 

“No indeed, it is hardly possible to separate you even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not.”

Mira crossed her arms again, and leaned back against the wall behind her. The group standing before Elrond was a sight to behold. Wizards, Men, Elves, Dwarves and Hobbits, every race was represented. Who would have thought this to be possible?

“Seven companions-”, Elrond started but was interrupted by yet another pair of Hobbits who came running from behind the pillars in the back. 

“Wait! We are coming too!” They rushed to Frodo’s side. Mira smiled, she was certain these Hobbits would give Gandalf a hard, but interesting time during their quest. 

“You’d have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!” one of them said proudly, crossing his arms.

The blond Hobbit wanted to say something smart too, and added, “Anyway, you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission, quest… thing.”

“Well, that rules you out, Pip,” his friend was quick to answer. Mira snorted. 

Elrond opened his arms. “Nine companions-”

“Lord Elrond, if you please,” Gandalf interrupted him. Mira half expected Elrond to drop his arms at his side and just give up speaking altogether, but his expression didn’t even falter. Impressive.

“I do believe there is someone else who would be wise to join us,” Gandalf spoke, looking directly at Mira. 

Mira’s eyes widened. No, he wouldn’t, would he? She even looked behind her, forgetting she was leaning against a wall, to check if there was a chance he didn’t mean her. 

“Mira, my dear. Don’t keep us waiting,” he said warmly. 

She froze, frantically trying to think of an excuse, any excuse not to join them. 

“A woman?” Boromir laughed. “You can’t be serious! Does she even know how to fight?”

That comment made something stir within her. Wasn’t it enough that Legolas had been acting like he did towards her, and now another man had to doubt her skills?

In less than a split second she had drawn her two knives from her boots and threw them towards Boromir, effectively pinning his cape to the railing of the balcony behind him, without even scratching Legolas and the Hobbits, who were all standing in very close proximity. It did not only show her skills with a knife, but her strength as well since the railing was made out of stone. 

“I can assure you, Boromir, that Mira knows exactly how to defend herself. Best not to get on her bad side,” Gandalf chuckled. Mira stepped towards Boromir and pulled her knives out of the railing, keeping her eyes fixed on Legolas’ the whole time, as if to say “Did you see that?”.

Elrond cleared his throat, opening his arms for the third time. Before he started, he looked at Gandalf, who nodded at him. 

“Ten companions… so be it! You shall be known as the Fellowship of the Ring!”

A/N: I have a taglist now! Send me an ask if you want to be added!

Taglist Perfect Secrets: @ayo-cowbelly​

[chillassimagines]

Let Me Go - Lucien Castle Oneshot

(REQUESTED)

“What are we waiting for? We must attack.” Lucien questioned Klaus with urgency. Klaus shook his head and downed his glass of bourbon.

“Not yet. Freya is still recovering. We need her at her full potential and I won’t settle for anything less, Lucien.” Your lover clenches his fists and walks over to you.

“Then we shall be leaving, Y/N.” He spoke with a tense jaw. You immediately brought your hand up to touch it in hopes of calming him. It seemed to calm him by a fracture. He didn’t like being taken by surprise, he was a control freak.

“Ease your mind, Lucien. We’re better off listening...for once.” You reminded him with a small knowing smile. He sighed and wrapped his arms around you.

“I’ll ease my mind when there are no threats.” You chuckled at his statement.

“So never?” He offered you a tight smile and nodded. You took his hand in yours and turned to leave.

“Out of the way!” You felt yourself and Lucien being pushed to the ground. You looked up to see Klaus holding an arrow in mid flight. “Like you always say, Lucien...” His face grew with anger as he narrowed his eyes. “No time like the present.” Being in an underground facility on neutral grounds didn’t present much protection in the moment.

You had gone to this underground facility with the Mikaelson clan to check on Freya after she had recently been ambushed by the rouge vampires and witches conspiring against the Originals. The rouges wanted equal power, and the Originals prevented that. Lucien pulled you up with him and gripped your shoulders.

“Go find Elijah, send him here, but do not follow him. You’ll be safer at Freya’s bedside. If they find you there she will protect you.” He swiftly turned around and headed towards danger. You mimicked his movements in the opposite direction to find Elijah. You descended deeper into the facility towards where Freya was being kept and ran into Elijah on the way.

“The rouges, they’re here, Elijah!” You spoke nearly out of breath.

“Of course we are.” A female from behind Elijah spoke. You recognized her as one of the witches whom was helping Freya. Elijah turned around silently and began to stalk towards her, but she threw her hands up, and said something under her breath. Elijah started choking and he reached his hands up to his face. His hands came back bloody. You ran to him and his eyes were rolled into the back of his head as his nose was bleeding.

“Stop it!” You ran towards the witch, but she simply flicked her hands and you were sent flying into the wall. You cried out in pain at the intense pain flooding into your skull. Your misfortune gave Elijah the upper hand. He sped towards the witch and ripped her head off of her shoulders. He helped you up and brought out a handkerchief for you to hold to your head.

“Y/N, you need to get Freya and get her up there. There isn’t much time.” He then sped away with his vampiric powers. You groaned as you held your handkerchief against the wound while leaning against the wall as you swayed towards Freya’s recovery room. You collapsed to your knees in the doorway, making Freya shoot up from her bed.

“Freya, we have to, to help...them.” You mumbled softly, grasping at anything to help you to your feet again. Freya looked torn between leaving you and helping you.

“Y/N, I’m going to heal you, but we have to do it while walking up, or we won’t make it in time.” You nodded and put your arm over her shoulders and began walking at a decent pace while Freya was murmuring incantations. You felt a stabbing pain in your head as she helped you walk up the stairs where you could hear the violence happening. She damn near dragged you to a corner and set you down.

“F-Freya.” You protested, your mind was a bit clearer and the pain wasn’t as intense, but you knew you weren’t fully healed.

“Just stay back, Y/N.” Freya looked at you with what seemed to be remorse. She turned away and launched herself into combat. Your eyes scanned the room to find Lucien impaling someone with part of a banister. Unfortunately, he locked eyes with you and all you could see was his disappointment. He began pounding towards you when a vampire catapulted himself on top of Lucien. You rose up with a groan, your vision felt a little hazy, but you couldn’t just give up on Lucien. A second vampire began beating on him as well as the other held him down.

“Fuck off!” You screamed as you grabbed the previously discarded bloody banister and stabbed it through the assaulting vampire. He fell to the side but you were grabbed from behind.

“Such a shame that you’re human, you might’ve had a chance.” The mystery person gripped your skull making you cry out in pain and slammed your head into the ground.

-

“She’s going to wake up, Lucien.”

“When, Rebekah? And where the bloody hell were you when your sister sacrificed her, huh?!” Silence followed the outburst which your head was grateful for. You opened your eyes to a suprisingly dim room. You tried moving your head from facing the ceiling to the side but that action sent knives into your face and neck.

“Agh!” You cried out miserably and covered your throbbing face with your hands.

“Y/N!” You heard Lucien’s voice and his presence as he rushed to your side. He gingerly lifted your hands from your face and he looked into your eyes.

“Hey.” You whispered, looking up at the broken man. His eyes were bloodshot, his face was splotchy, his hair was a mess, and his shirt had blood on it.

“Why? Why did you do that?” He sounded like he was pleading with you, but he was in pain. You lifted your hand to touch his jaw, however it remained stiff.

“I was, I was helping you.” You remembered. He aggressively pulled away from you with disgust on his face.

“Helping me?! You almost died! You are like a fragile flower, Y/N. Compared to you I’m steel amour! You can’t go around playing superhero! You weren’t even supposed to come back up with Freya.” Lucien yelled. You slowly sat up and faced your body towards him without moving your neck.

“She had to come back up and I wasn’t going to stay down there alone. I helped Elijah when I was down there just like I helped you.” Lucien pulled the bloodied handkerchief out of his pocket.

“Yeah, I noticed, by you getting body slammed into a wall. Lot of fucking saving that is.” He tossed it onto the bedside table and the gesture made you angry.

“I saved your life!” You yelled, trying to ignore the headache that settled in afterwards.

“You can’t save anyone if you’re already dead, Y/N! And you’ve clearly ruled out the vampire offer I gave you!” He shouted and gestured to your bruised body.

“I can’t do that, Lucien! I couldn’t hurt others to live...” Your eyes began watering as you remembered all the things you’d miss out on. You’d miss kids, grandkids, growing old, and thriving in a community. You knew that being with Lucien would require a male donor for children, but you didn’t care if that’s what it took.

“I can’t lose you, do you understand?” Lucien knelt next to the bed and gripped your hands tightly. “You think you are invincible and what happens if next time your head is torn off in front of me? I can’t live forever with you dead.” You bit your lip and closed your eyes, letting a tear roll down your cheek.

“Well, maybe...maybe you need to live without me, now. Not dead, still me...not with you.” Silence followed. A long, long silence. You opened your eyes and Lucien seemed to be waiting for you to open them as he was staring at you.

“You must’ve hit your head very hard to come up with that, Y/N.” He spoke in a deadly serious tone. You shifted your eyes to the wall as more tears flooded your vision. Maybe it was your imagination, but your chest began to throb in pain.

“Lucien...you have to.”

“I have to what?”

“Let me go.”

[yukiwrites]

Edelgard, Comforted

Thanks for the support once again, @xpegasusuniverse! It was really fun to work on this unlikely duo!

This is a Support Chain C-A between Raphael and Edelgard!

Commission info HERE and HERE!

______________________________

C SUPPORT

Raphael: Huff! *thud* There ya go! A pile of new books, special delivery from Raphael!

Man: Thank you so much for carrying that mountain of books from the old storeroom, Raphael. You did it in one trip, too! I never saw someone carry so many books at once.

Raphael: Haha, no need to thank me! My muscles love to help folks with heavy lifting!

Man: W-well then, thank you, Raphael’s, uh, muscles. I’ll need to file these now, if you’ll excuse me…

Raphael: Sure! My pleasure!

Raphael: Man, I’m really not used to coming here like I should… I can already hear the Professor telling me to study… or my classmates… Maybe I could look for something- huh? Is that Edelgard over there?

Edelgard, on her own: It seems I chose the worst time to browse the library. No empty ladders in sight.

Raphael: Hey there, Edelgard! You look troubled; are the books giving you a headache too?

Edelgard: Ah, Raphael, hello. I suppose you could say that. As you can see, all ladders are either occupied by other students or out of service and the book I seek is quite out of my reach. I do not think even Hubert would be able to get it if he were here...

Raphael: Oh, book searching? I just helped the library guy here with that! Leave it to me! Is that the one with the red cover you wanted?

Edelgard: Hm, if you would not mind to aid me, then I will accept the help. Yes, it is the one with the red cover. Perhaps if I could read the title of the others beside it, I would ask for more, however, as it stands...

Raphael: Hrrrmmmm…!! Hrrrrm! Oh, wow, this is really high! Even my feet muscles can’t make me reach ‘em!

Edelgard: So he wasn’t listening to me. Oh well.

Edelgard: Raphael? Thank you for offering to help, I will simply return at a quieter time to-

Raphael: No no, wait, I got it! You can just sit on my shoulders!

Edelgard: What are you imply- wai- unhand me- agh!

Raphael: You’re as light as you look, Edelgard! You should eat more if you wanna grow up big like Big Bro Raphael!

Edelgard: I’ll- thank you if-agh! Keep steady, I am losing my balance-

Raphael: Whoa, there, I gotcha, Edelgard! Take your time!

Edelgard: I-I have gotten the books; let me down this instant, please.

Raphael: Alleyoop, there you go! That wasn’t so bad, was it? And you got more than one, too!

Edelgard, blushing: I do not know if I should be thankful that everyone seems to be minding their own business or not.

Edelgard: Anyway, I will not let a favor go without a word of thanks. So I thank you for your assistance, Raphael. As rough and sudden as it may have been.

Raphael: You’re welcome! You can always ask Big Bro Raph for help!

Edelgard: ...

Raphael: Huh? Did I say something wrong? Wait! I get it! I did it again, didn’t I? Sorry I just put you on my shoulders like that! It was a force of habit from trying to help my hard-headed little sis!

Edelgard: I suppose you did not notice you were also patting my head just now?

Raphael: Whoa, was I? I guess you remind me of my little sis more than I thought! Sorry about that.

Edelgard: …

Edelgard: It was… fine. It was a refreshing feeling to be treated like a little sister again after so long. Thank you once again for your help, Raphael. Now I need to check these out, if you’ll excuse me.

Raphael: Sure, no prob! You can always rely on Big Bro Ralph, though, alright? Me ‘n’ my muscles will be there to help anytime you need!

Raphael leaves.

Edelgard: Big brother, huh…

B SUPPORT

Raphael: I’m glad Ms. Cook is such a nice lady, she always leaves something on top of the kitchen table for me! Yum, that was a great midnight snack, so now I can sleep like a log to get even stronger tomorrow!

Raphael: Huh? Is that a person over there? Who’s wandering ‘round the pond at this hour? Maybe they’re tryna fish? But don’t fish sleep, too? I don’t think they’d bite… Unless they’re looking for a midnight snack like me, haha!

Edelgard, on her own: ....

Raphael: Hey, it’s Edelgard!

Raphael approaches.

Raphael: Edelgard! What’re you doing up so late? Wait, you look pale, even more than usual! Is that the moonlight or did you eat something bad and got a stomach ache?

Edelgard: Hello there again, Raphael. *sighs* It would have been better if it were a simple stomach ache. As it stands, it was just a bad dream.

Raphael: Oh, alright. So you can’t sleep, huh?

Edelgard: To simplify it, yes.

Raphael: That sucks. I hate it when I can’t sleep.

Raphael: You know what? Take this and this here too. Ms. Cook always leaves me food so I got some to eat on my way back to my room, too.

Edelgard: Are these… cupcakes? As I recall, the dining hall is closed after curfew.

Raphael: Yeah! You like sweets, right? I sometimes see you smiling all to yourself when we’re havin’ sweets week!

Edelgard: Do I now…? How discomposing. And here I thought I kept my emotions in check.

Raphael: It’s fine! I’m sure only people who eat lots like me noticed! Anyway, I always get a real good sleep after eating, so you should eat those and head straight to bed!

Edelgard, smiling: Thank you, Raphael. It seems you are turning out to be most helpful to me as of late.

Raphael: Aw, it’s no problem! Like I said, you can always rely on Big Bro Ralph!

Raphael: I know! If you don’t wanna go all the way back upstairs, why not just crash in my room? You can keep the bed and I’ll sleep on the floor. With how delicious Ms. Cook’s midnight snacks are, I’m sure we’ll be out real soon.

Edelgard: To your… room?

Raphael: Yeah, it’s really over there, I think if you twitch your head a lil’ you can see it from here! I love sleeping so close to the dining hall!

Raphael: Besides, whenever my little sis had a nightmare, she’d come sleep in my room and she’d always have the biggest of smiles the next day! She said I ‘attract good dreams’ or something. She dreamed of eating a cloud one night after having a nightmare so scary she had spent a long time crying! I wish I had dreamed of eating a cloud… I wonder what they taste like.

Edelgard, smiling: I assume they must be sweet. Though perhaps not as much as these cupcakes.

Edelgard: …

Edelgard: If you would not mind, Raphael, I would accept your invitation. It would be a wonderful change of pace to dream of sweets.

Raphael: Alright! Then let’s roll, ‘cause I’m already getting sleepy and I still got some food left to finish!

B+ SUPPORT

Edelgard: You can do it if you want to, Raphael. I must admit I am impressed.

Raphael: You think so? I’m surprised I got that answer right, too! The Professor really is good at what they’re doing if even doing brain stuff is working out for me!

Edelgard: The Professor does have credit for having a comprehensible teaching style, but it is your merit for getting the right answer. Do not undermine your achievements, no matter how small they may seem at the moment.

Raphael: You know what, you’re right! This time I flexed my brain and it worked! Go, brain!

Edelgard, smiling: …

Raphael: I wonder if it would be like this if my little sis were here, too. She’s always been the smart one, you know? She’d be grilling me out along with everyone else, but I think she’d help me just like you are, Edelgard.

Edelgard: Do I remind you of your little sister so much? I noticed she is basically all you talk about after food and training.

Raphael: Hmm, maybe you don’t look so much alike ‘cause you’re more composed, you know? Guess it’s ‘cause you’re a princess and all. But if you weren’t, I think you two’d be like two peas in a pod!

Edelgard: Indeed. I must keep my composure at all times so I can shoulder all that I am meant to have in the future.

Edelgard: And yet, I feel a strange compulsion to allow myself to be vulnerable whenever we are together. I wonder if it is because of your familiarity.

Raphael: Well, I’m nothing if not approachable! And I told you ‘fore, didn’t I? You can rely on me like I’m your Big Brother! I know I wouldn’t mind having another little sis if she were anythin’ like you.

Edelgard: You regard me as family…? Truly?

Raphael: Well, yeah! I’m not asking you to do the same, but if you wanna, I’ll be your Big Bro for the day. Heck, for as long as you need me!

Edelgard: That is… something I have never heard someone say to me before, Raphael. I cannot put it to words on how I feel about this, other than that I DO want to take you up on your offer.

Raphael: Knock yourself out! What can Big Bro Raph do for you today?

Edelgard: It is… Ah, it is rather hard to talk about, now that I actually want to.

Raphael: It’s okay, I know how to keep a secret! Honest. One time, my little sis broke our Mom’s favorite vase when she was realll little, but I told Mom I was the one who broke it ‘cause Maya was looking so sad about it all. They never found out!

Edelgard, smiling: I’m afraid that what I am about to disclose is not as ordinary as that. Can you truly swear to never say this to a soul? Promise on your life?

Raphael: Sounds serious, but don’t worry, Edelgard. I wouldn’t make anything to make my little sis look sad. I promise I won’t tell anyone!

Edelgard: I appreciate it, Raphael. In truth, this is about the nightmare that kept me up the other day, as well as its roots…

Raphael, nodding: Yeah. I’m listenin’.

Edelgard: I have, so often I have almost forgotten how it was to have a restful night of sleep, persistent nightmares that make me relive the past. A past of seeing my older and younger siblings beg for their lives while people cut open their flesh and insert things within their bodies. A past of a gagged me helplessly struggling to be set free of the tight chains that have never truly healed.

Raphael: Your wrists…! Is that why you’re always covered from head to toe?

Edelgard: Scars from a past that refuses to leave me; nightmares that drown out happy times I may have lived with my siblings. They were all full of hope and dreams, Raphael. And they were robbed of it all; robbed of their future by people who simply wanted more and more power.

Edelgard: So this Edelgard von Hresvelg was born, at the cost of my siblings’ lives and my memories of happier times. The only one who remained to change this rotten world, to-

Raphael: Hey, it’s alright. You don’t need to go on while you’re crying like this. Come here.

Edelgard: Crying…? I am? I thought I was beyond that by now; that my tears have all dried.

Raphael: You’re gonna be alright, Edelgard. I can’t do anything to change the past, but I’m gonna get stronger than anyone else and I’m gonna be right there to protect you in place of your brothers who couldn’t.

Edelgard: T-thank you, Raphael, for your kindness. And your warmth.

Raphael: No need to thank me, little sis. These arms were made for huggin’!

Edelgard, smiling: Indeed…

A SUPPORT

Raphael: Hngh… Oomph… Hhngh… oomph! Just one more time…! Hngh… Oomph! There!

Crashing sound.

Raphael: Phew! Those logs sure were heavy, but now I can feel my muscles bulging! I’m gonna be even stronger now!

Edelgard, smiling: (Made for hugging. Right.)

Raphael: Oh! I didn’t see you there, Edelgard! Need something? I was just going to the dining hall. I’m starving, I gotta feed my muscles while they’re bulging. Wanna come with?

Edelgard: I was about to invite you to come with me, so yes.

Raphael: Really? Well, alright, then! Food tastes better when you’re eating with someone else, I always say!

Scene changes to the Dining Hall.

Raphael: *munch munch* You’re eating so little! Here, have a bit of mine! That’s why you didn’t grow at all during these years! C’mon, eat more!

Edelgard: I have had my fill, Raphael, thank you. Besides, I wanted to ask you something. But perhaps after you do not have food all over yourself.

Raphael: Huh? I’m only getting started! C’mon, ask anything you want! Today’s meat is so good I think I’ll just stay here and eat till it’s breakfast again!

Edelgard: Heh, very well then. I wanted to ask the reason why you allied yourself with the Empire even though that meant war against the Alliance where you were born. Oftentimes you’ve mentioned how much you enjoyed the village you grew up in.

Raphael: *snarfs* Hm? But that’s easy! My village is in the territory of a noble who’s on the side of the Empire, so we never really needed to attack it. ‘Sides, Claude’s doing a good job of holding everyone together in the Alliance, so I’m not worried ‘bout my little sis back there. And since I was worried ‘bout THIS little sis here, I had to come with to protect her!

Edelgard, surprised: ...

Raphael: *munch munch* You okay? You stopped eating.

Edelgard: I am… astonished. Are you truly keeping your promise from when we were students? And still seeing me as your little sister?

Raphael: Muh? Aren’t you? I said I’d always help you out as your brother, so if you don’t see me as a Big Bro anymore, that’s fine by me. I’ll still stay by your side to protect you, though! It’s kinda like my duty now, you know?

Edelgard: I… see. That is very kind of you, Raphael, as I remember I keep mentioning.

Raphael: *slurp* Nah, it’s fine. I really just want to help you however I can ‘cause I wanna protect your future. I can’t do anything ‘bout your past but I can always offer up my hugging muscles! See? Hrrk! They’re in top form today!

Edelgard, smiling: As always, I see.

Edelgard: I appreciate everything you do, Raphael. Once again, allow me to thank you.

Raphael: No problem! Now, you gonna eat that or not? Oh, I can ask Ms. Cook to bring out those cupcakes you like!

Edelgard: That would be lovely.

[galahadwilder]

Marinaked, Ch. 9

Enjoy my writing? Sponsor a fic chapter!

Marinaked Archive

AO3

*

Marinette woke up to a dry mouth, a swollen tongue, and a pounding headache.

"Blurgh," she mumbled, rolling over in her bed. Everything hurt, and everything felt weirdly sticky. "Tikki, can you—"

She didn't manage to finish her sentence. Instead, her throat seized shut on her words, her stomach attempting to leap straight into her mouth. "Urp!" She collapsed in on herself, squeezing her lips shut, and pressed her hand over her mouth to hold in her vomit.

She felt hexagon-patterned spandex press against her lips instead of fingerprinted skin, and her stomach flipped all over again. Oh, Tikki—had she fallen asleep as Ladybug? If her parents walked in on her...

She tore open her eyelids, blinked as the light speared through her eyes. "Gah!" she shrieked, covering her eyes with her arm. She rolled in bed, twisting herself in the sheets, turned towards the door—wait. This wasn't her room. Too large, too white, too bright.

"Agh!" a familiar voice yelped from next to the bed.

Ladybug's muscles all contracted at once, launching out of bed with a squeal and dragging all the sheets along for the ride. She squeezed her whole body, braced to hit the floor—but instead she felt herself slam into somebody's knee, tumbling bodily into the chair where the other girl had been sleeping and knocking them both onto the floor, and suddenly the Hero of Paris found herself pinned beneath the frozen—and steadily reddening—Paris Princess, tangled together in a confusing mess of sheets.

"Ch-Chloé?" Ladybug squeaked. Then all the blood rushed to her head at once with the pressure of Stoneheart's fist, and she groaned, squeezing her eyes shut as the light from the Hotel Grand Paris' floor-to-ceiling windows stabbed right through her eyes into the top of her skull all over again.

"I'm sorry!" Chloé gasped, and Ladybug felt a sharp spike of pain as Chloé's palm pressed hard into her shoulder; she was trying to pull away, only for her body to jerk taut against the sheets wrapped around her legs and other arm. "Just... just gimme a sec!"

"Take your time," Ladybug mumbled, turning her face away from the window and pressing it against the carpeting. Ah... sweet soft floor. Felt great against her crushing headache.

"Lemme just... hang on," Chloé said. "I, uh... Pollen? Help?"

The interior of the sheets flashed yellow. "Yes, My Queen!" a tiny voice said, and the sheets began to unravel from within.

Finally, after a minute of Chloé growing increasingly flustered, she pulling her hand loose. "Okay, I think I've got it."

Less than a minute later, the two of them were free of each other. Ladybug had elected to climb back into bed and bury her face into the pillow to block out the light. , while Chloé—who seemed to be steadfastly avoiding looking at her—was sitting on the ground, leaning against the foot of the bed.

"Did you seriously... sleep in the chair?" Ladybug mumbled. "Thought you had too much..." She raised her hand, spun it, trying to force the word through the cotton stuffing that seemed to be filling her skull. "...'Dignity' for that."

"Yeah, well," Chloé said, then huffed. "Someone had to watch your drunk ass to make sure you didn't, I dunno, jump out the window or something."

Ladybug groaned. "Akuma?"

Chloé snorted. "Nope," she said. "Far as I can tell, you got plastered all on your own."

Memories of last night suddenly flashed in Ladybug's head—she'd finally reached a decision to talk to Chat, to tell him everything, except then she'd pretty much gone into meltdown, and Tikki hadn't been able to talk her down. Somehow, in her panic, she'd come to the conclusion (which, she now realized with a squeeze of her sinuses, was definitely the panic talking) that since Drunkinette had been brave enough to tell Chat pretty much whatever she wanted, a little wine to sooth her nerves would be just right. And then somewhere along the line "a little" had turned into "a lot."

She was never trusting Alya's recommendation for "liquid courage" again.

"How bad was I?" Ladybug said, folding the pillow over onto her face. The walls probably wouldn't be able to judge her, since they didn't have brains, but she couldn't be too careful.

"You were fine!" Pollen said.

Chloé snorted. "Well, let's see," she said. "You showed up at patrol unannounced, basically molested Chat, spent most of the flirting with—with me—" Her voice suddenly broke. "And—and you somehow managed to completely forget my identity."

Ladybug stiffened. Oh, Tikki. Poor Chat. She could only imagine how uncomfortable he'd been—he'd stated, repeatedly, that he didn't think he could do what she did during Dark Cupid, not if she wasn't in her right mind. Getting exactly what he wanted in exactly the wrong way? It must've been hell.

"Flirting with Chloé" was another pretty good indicator that she had been utterly smashed. She'd never exactly made a secret of her attraction to girls—it wasn't particularly anyone's business, but she never really denied it—but she'd never found Chloé of all people particularly attractive, and she'd always... well, up until last night at least, she'd tried her best to avoid pushing Chloé out of the closet. Apparently, Ladydrunk either didn't need as much emotional attachment to get physically attracted to someone, or she'd somehow managed to get over the gratingness of Chloé's personality.

"Sorry," Ladybug mumbled. "I didn't... mean to make either of you uncomfortable."

"Well, you did," Chloé snapped. "What the hell was that even about?" She heard Chloé stand up. "You're the most responsible person I know, and you got wasted on a school night?"

Ladybug's muscles seized. "Oh my gods!" she shrieked, bolting out of bed and trying to ignore the excruciating rush of blood to her aching head. "It's Tuesday!" She tried to dash toward the window, only for her foot to slip on the sheets that were still piled on the floor. She barely managed to catch herself on Chloé's overnight chair.

"Relax! Yikes," Chloé said, checking her phone. "It's only... six in the morning. You're fine, you've got like an hour."

Ladybug frowned, grumbling. (Also, hour and 45 minutes, considering when she usually woke up, but Chloé didn't need to know that.)

"Seriously," Chloé said, "what the heck were you doing that needed to be that drunk?"

Ladybug closed her eyes, breathed in through her nose. "I... Um, over the weekend, I..." She pressed her palm agaist her forehead, sinking into the velvet of the chair. "I found out Chat's civilian identity is the boy I have a crush on."

Chloé stared at her.

"Oh my," Pollen said.

"Huh," Chloé added.

"Yyyyyep," Ladybug groaned.

Chloé pursed her lips, then nodded. "Pollen, go get Jean," she said. "We're gonna need a lot of coffee."

Marinaked Archive

Enjoy my writing? Buy me a coffee!

@rainforestgeek @36corndogs @paganinpurple @inkshila @viva-la-swen @probsjosh @rlv29 @dragon-of-the-sea @notquiteabutterfly @paganinpurple @masked-bixch @flashflashitsash @rainforestgeek @my-fuckin-problem @flightfoot @bubbleblower @assortedyeets @noirgrste @toukabunni33 @littletortillaboye @grace1852