#died and came back and refuse to elaborate. everything is fine. it's fine!
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died and came back and refuses to talk about it. died and came back but don't know if it's permanent. died and came back with tragic knowledge of the future. died and came back with memories that aren't yours. died and came back with a implacable sense of doom. died and came back and now crows are following you
died and came back tired. died and came back exhausted. died and came back with manic energy. died and came back with malingering unease. died and came back twitchy. so many possibilities
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Talking about my sci-fi world, day 5-ish.
There is such thing as a nation called Hakajen Interstellar. As one pay predict, this is very much a megacorporation, and it is a dystopian empire, although not quite an invincible or even overconfident one.
You see, in Hakajen Int., the laws are tailored to profit. Certain universally addressed things such as outright slavery or dumping toxic/radioactive waste are banned, but primarily to keep relations with neighbors at tolerable levels. Everything else is solely based on the question "how much profit can we make of this?" and anything illegal is cracked down on hard by its military's police branch. Murder is not profitable, and this is absolutely banned, and often people have died from being falsely accused. Theft? Since it can't be taxed, good luck trying to win that legal battle. Jaywalked on an empty road? Well that camera over there says you just got fined for half your net worth buddy.
However, this has a particular drawback with their neighbor, the People of Trinium. You see, Hakajen made the questionable choice to consider human trafficking legal. Their line of thought is that they can extort large amounts of money from their neighbors, who are not dumb enough to start an interstellar over something that can be resolved diplomatically. The People of Trinium, on the other hand, don't need to start an interstellar war. If one of their people is suspected to have fallen victim to this system, they will usually send a reconnaissance ship to the system they are believed to be in, lay siege to the respective city district, extract their citizen and any others they can, and leave. And Hakajen can do nothing about it.
Any fleet that tries to stop them will just be shredded by this reconnaissance ship, any soldiers they try to retaliate with will be easily crushed by machine forces, and it should go without saying that the single most powerful nation in the known galaxy can absolutely crush the sixth most powerful. This has also led to Hakajen losing literal trillions of credits - remember Leei? Well, you don't, but in-universe it was intended to be a fortress world that could last for years. When Hakajen refused to allow one of these reconnaissance ships to pass, it left, then came back less then a year later with a small invasion fleet. This fleet utterly decimated the surrounding fleet, broke through the planetary shield in less than 24 hours, laid siege to the entire world for three months, extracted their citizens, and then just refused to elaborate and went home.
I stand by the fact that the most unrealistic part of the Terminator franchise is that the machine race would ever need to send an assassin back in time in the first place.
#sci fi#random#worldbuilding#don't ask questions#I like machines#Robo bois are cool#And they're also very poorly written#I need validation#Please help
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Surprise Conversations
Pairing: 10th Doctor x reader (intended as platonic)
Pronouns used: They/them (gender neutral reader)
Summary: When life isn’t great for you, a strange man talks to you when you’re at your lowest.
Word count: 2,345 (edited)
Warnings: Intrusive thoughts, mentions of self harm, suicidal thoughts/tendencies, self deprecation
(A/N): Wrote this as a sort of vent/comfort within the span of 3ish hours and it’s currently 6:30 in the morning. This takes place sometime between Martha and Donna. Enjoy and ignore the awful title and writing pls
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
It was always behind you, looming over your shoulder and breathing down your neck with saccharine addled air. You breathed in that oxygen against your will; sometimes that was the only way you could get through the day. Other times, it was the thing that ruined your perfect day.
It whispered in your ear whenever you made a mistake, no matter how small. It only started yelling whenever you started to decline, escalating to screaming when you were at your worst. You could swear that your eardrums were tattered beyond belief and that you could hear the remnants of the voice in the back of your mind whenever it wasn’t there, but you just chalked it up to the pains of growing up and becoming an adult.
You listened to it sometimes. You listened to it when it told you that you were a failure for getting anything besides a perfect score on a test. You listened to it when it told you that you were incapable of love when you and your childhood best friend started to drift apart. You listened to it when it told you that slashing at your skin with the razor blade you had unscrewed from a handheld pencil sharpener would solve your problems. And for the most part, you felt as if it was best that you listened to it.
There were times that you ignored it, though; this was usually whenever it’s ideas were too drastic for the situation. It called for you to jump when you came across ledges and bridges. It beckoned you towards the knife block and commanded you to stick them all in your abdomen. It wants you to jump onto the rails whenever you are boarding a train.
Ignoring it was hard, but doable when you didn’t have anything to stress out about. A couple of cuts and you’d be good to go for the day. It would be silent.
That was until things started to pile up. Bill due dates were getting closer and closer, friends were increasingly leaving, your debts were growing larger and larger, and your family was basically nonexistent in helping you with your problems. So you decided to finally give in and listen to everything the voice told you to do.
You found yourself at your favorite part of the city you lived in: the bridge overlooking the ocean. It had a perfect view of the moon and it’s beams glistening on the ever moving waves. It gave you some comfort that things would continue after you would be at your end. It was beautiful and you’d be damned if you didn’t at least have something to see before you died.
You were sitting on the ledge, feeling the salty sea breeze raise the goosebumps on your skin. Your grip on the metal bars was tight, almost as steely as the beam itself. Your feet dangled over the abyss limply.
“Hey.” A voice broke through the quiet, making you jump out of your skin and almost lose your grip on the bars. “Sorry,” they awkwardly coughed. A figure came to a seated position next to you, dragging your eyes off from the waves below.
The first thing you registered about him was the gravity-defying hair slightly being shifted by the breeze. In the back of your mind, you wondered how much gel he had to use to get it to stick up like that. The second thing you noticed was the way he looked at you. His eyes were expressive, probably more so than the average person. They were a deep brown color, the pupil almost blending in with his iris.
“So, I assume you aren’t out here for a little stroll?” He glanced at you out of the corner of his eyes and gave you a sliver of a smile. You shook your head and returned to looking over at the ocean. He sat with you in silence for a moment before he spoke up, “what’s your name?”
“Why do you need to know?”
“I like meeting new people,” he shrugged. “If it makes it easier, I’ll tell you mine: I’m the Doctor.”
“Doctor who?” You asked skeptically.
“Just the Doctor,” he grinned widely.
“Well Doctor, it’s strange that you’re making small talk with someone sitting on the ledge.”
“Like I said, I like meeting new people… Nice day outside, isn’t it? Or should I say night?”
“Yeah,” you hummed quietly. Silence enveloped you both once more, only the sounds of each other’s breathing and the occasional shuffle being heard whenever one of you moved. It was starting to unnerve you, so you decided that telling him your name wasn’t going to do any harm. “(Y/n).”
“What?” He asked quietly.
“(Y/n). That’s my name, don’t wear it out,” you sighed out the last phrase. Normally, you would’ve said it with a large grin and happiness exuding from your every feature but you just felt numb.
“(Y/n),” he said slowly, as if getting a feel for your name, “that’s a lovely name. It suits you, you know. Nice to meet you,” he stuck a hand out towards you and gave you a smile that almost melted the numbness that froze you. You stared at it for a moment before slowly moving to grasp his hand in yours and give it a firm little shake.
“Likewise,” you mumbled. He jumped slightly when your cold skin met his warm hand, looking at you in alarm.
“You’re freezing,” he said before shrugging off his trench coat and laying it across your shoulders. An instant warmth enveloped you, making you unconsciously lean into the warmth. He was warm, incredibly warm. When your nose brushed against the collar, you caught a slight whiff of cologne and… something that you couldn’t place your finger on. Maybe apples or grass? Or a mixture of the two, you didn’t ponder on it. The Doctor was warm and he smelled good.
“Well being cold is the least of my worries right now, Doc,” a small chuckle left you. You gestured at the water below you wordlessly. It was then that you noticed his slightly beaten up off white converse shoes. “Nice shoes by the way. Not my definition of dress shoes, but at least you aren’t running around barefoot. I respect it.”
“Thanks,” he grinned, wiggling his feet in the air slightly, “they’re my lucky pair, haven’t failed me yet.”
“You know, you could use a magic eraser or something to get those dirt stains off from them.”
“Why would I do that? These stains are memories,” he pointed to a slightly purple spot. “This is when R- an old friend accidentally ran into trouble with some nasty things.” He pointed to a small grass stain, “this is when I was running with Martha.”
He had a fond smile on his face as he started to tell you stories about his adventures with his friends. There was Martha, the brilliant doctor (also a doctor, interesting) that almost matched his intelligence. Then there was Sarah Jane, a gifted journalist with a knack for discovering and defending the truth. K-9. Romanas I and II. Peri. Grace. Susan. Kamelion. It was as if this man had lived several lifetimes.
“It sounds like someone’s lived quite the life,” you mused when the conversation fizzled out.
“I have,” he nodded, an almost hidden wistfulness in his tone. “Now what about you? I feel like I’ve been hogging the conversation.”
“No, you’re fine; I liked hearing about your friends. As for me, well my life’s just not important.”
“Not important,” he scoffed. “Impossible. I’ve never met anybody who’s life wasn’t important. Everybody has a story, what’s yours?”
You were silent for a moment before you took a deep breath. What’s one more hour of conversation? It wasn’t like you had any time constraints. You diverged into sharing some aspects of your life, just the small things that wouldn’t normally make any normal person bat an eye at.
But the Doctor wasn’t a normal person.
You didn’t mean that in a negative way, no far from it. He actually was invested in what you had to say, not just politely nodding along. He asked you questions about what you were talking about, subtly pushing you to elaborate further. Soon enough you both were laughing like you were old friends catching up with each other. If anybody drove past you both, they probably would have thought you both were insane.
“You actually did that?” He asked incredulously through his snickering.
“Yes, I was a gullible kid. Not my fault that I’d do anything for a quarter and a cool looking rock,” you smiled and leaned your head against the metal bar behind you. “Everyone thought I was going to become a geologist when I got older with how much I’d hoard rocks in my room like there was no tomorrow. Made Mum cross with me for bringing dirty things into the house, but she never found the stash I had in the basement. I actually think that they’re still there, hidden in a box collecting dust.” You sighed and tightened your grip on the bars, “there’s no appeal in rocks when you grow up and see that the little sparkles and colors in them are just… imperfections that should be ignored.”
“The little imperfections I see in rocks,” he began, pinching a small bit of loose concrete between his pointer finger and thumb and brought it up to his face to examine it. “Are the things I refuse to ignore. They’re charming and separate it from being just a hunk of slate you find in a rock garden.”
“I feel like that’s some sort of analogy.”
“That… wasn’t what I was intending, but I do suppose that it could be one.” He turned to squint at you, placing the rock back onto the ledge next to his thigh. You squinted back at him, wondering what was going through his head. A smile ghosted across his face before he laughed to himself.
“What?” You asked him.
“Nothing,” he chuckled, “it’s just that we’ve talked all night.” He jutted his chin towards the sun rising over the horizon casting oranges and pinks onto the water in place of the moonlight that resided there previously.
“We have,” you said in surprise. The sun’s rays warmed you slightly, but you didn’t want to move away from the shelter of the trench coat. It gave you a strange sense of comfort. You both watched the sun rise out of the ocean and take its place high in the sky. Traffic started to bustle as people started their morning commute to work, some craning their necks in their cars as they drove by to look at you and the Doctor. None stopped to talk to you.
“Say, (N/n),” he started.
“(N/n)?” You asked as the corners of your lips quirked upwards. The nickname made you feel warm inside, it felt nice.
“Yes, (N/n); I think it suits you well. Anyways (N/n), if you were to choose a time and place in all of time and space, where would you like to visit the most?”
“Anywhere? Like, even on a planet trillions of light years from Earth?” You asked him, watching him nod curtly. “Yes, but there are some rules. You can’t interact with your past self or change a point that was destined to happen. Wars, deaths, births, things like that.”
“Ah, so the general movie rules of time travel?” He grumbled to himself (something along the lines of ‘those are wildly inaccurate’) before he nodded once more.
After a bit of contemplation, you supplied him with your answer. A spark in his eye appeared, similar to the spark he got when he talked about his friends but slightly different. He slowly got up and stretched his lanky limbs out, cracks coming from the joints and small groans leaving him whenever the stretch was apparently good.
He looked down at you and, with a grin, extended his hand to you. “(Y/n), would you like to come with me? See that place you wanted to see?”
You found yourself staring at his hand for the second time that night. Thoughts of stranger danger circulated through your mind before you realized that if he wanted to harm you in any way, he would have done it by now. He wouldn’t have talked to you for hours on end, making you feel like you had a small sliver of yourself back again.
Why not? One little detour couldn’t hurt; you had a good feeling about going along with him.
You grabbed his hand and allowed him to pull you up to a standing position. He gave you a small lift so that you could hop over the barrier before he catapulted his body over it. With an arm wrapped around your shoulders, he led you away from the bridge. You both got strange looks from the people driving past, but you managed to ignore it when you burrowed yourself deeper into the trench coat and he brought you closer to him. He led you to an old navy blue police box, much to your confusion.
“Well, Mx…”
“(L/n),” you supplied.
“Well, Mx. (L/n), welcome to the TARDIS.”
One trip turned to two. Then three. Then four. Then several more. It became normal to come home from work to see the man waiting for you comfortably in your small apartment, brightening up whenever you walked through the door and asking you excitedly about what you had in mind for your next adventure.
Soon enough, the voice became something that would only come to you on your bad days, becoming largely dormant in your mind. Whenever you had a bad day, you finally had someone to confide in. Someone that wouldn’t judge you, someone that wouldn’t tell you that you were being overly dramatic.
The Doctor was different from the normal person; he was the Doctor and you wouldn’t want to have it any other way.
#10 x reader#10th doctor x reader#the doctor x reader#doctor who x reader#tenth doctor x reader#doctor who reader insert#gender neutral reader#suicidal reader#hellion writes doctor who
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how do u think the boy would be in a party😈😈
NEW RULES!
SYNOPSIS: blue lock at a party
CHARACTERS INCLUDED: isagi, bachira, nagi, reo, rin, chigiri, naruhaya, niko, nanase, gagamaru, kunigami
WARNINGS: mentions of underage drinking and weed (but no one actually takes anything), swearing, mentions of throwing up and food, again pretend they're all friends and go to the same school because it's more fun to think that way. ooc rin maybe? idk i like pretending he's not as miserable as the manga makes him out to be 🤗 he deserves to have fun i think
A/N: no cause this was soooo fun to write tysm anon, i got through this in a flash cause i loved this suggestion sm :') literally one of the most fun requests i've ever gotten eeee!!!!! also this made me miss my irls bye corona can suck my balls fr
ISAGI YOICHI:
i feel like this would be his first big party aw lol, so he’s kind of nervous LMAO.
gets handed a beer by someone, has his first sip of it ever, and immediately spits it out. mutters “how the hell can anyone drink this?” and “discreetly” pours the rest into a bush.
mainly stays with nagi, chigiri, kunigami, and bachira and they just talk throughout the night
(bachira only sits down and talks after his energy dies down. i'll elaborate on this below the cut).
keeps asking nagi “what song is this?” throughout the night LOL. makes a mental note of what songs to add to his playlists.
slightly nods his head to the music, aw cute. goes a little harder and lip syncs/raps along when he really likes the song, though (i stand by my word when i said he loves “neon guts”)
does accidentally bump into someone, but isagi starts a convo with them after he apologizes, and they hit it off right away 🥰
but, the person left early and isagi, ever the dummy, forgets to ask for their number.
and he's actually so disappointed in himself when he realizes, too 😭
BACHIRA MEGURU:
not drunk or anything at all, but boy, the way he’s acting makes it seem like he is.
the self proclaimed “life of the party.”
can be found “dancing,” though i use that word generously because to classify whatever he’s doing as “dancing,” is a stretch, to every song, even if he doesn’t know the words LOL
really likes when throwbacks come on!!!! he does dance to the lyrics and not the beat sometimes, though 😭
but, bachira looks like he’s having so much fun, it’s so cute, he’s definitely been waiting for this moment his whole life 🥰
if you were dancing with him, bachira would 100% take you by the hand and spin you around
also forces gets isagi to dance with him but isagi’s so awkward 😭
bachira also ends up jumping in the pool sometime later that night. yells “cannonball!” and everything, like, okay michael phelps 😭
he doesn’t have extra clothes so reo has to give him some and they're so fucking big on him LOLLL
texts the groupchat “i was sooo crazy last night😂” in the morning LMAOO, okay babe calm down
KUNIGAMI RENSUKE:
takes it upon himself to make sure none of his friends die LOL
only drinks water and diet coke 👍
his mom calls in the middle of the party to ask how he's doing and bachira and nagi are doing stupid shit like yelling “pass the weed” and fake moaning 😭
isagi and chigiri tell him to tell her they say hi LOL
really likes when the dj puts on 90s/2000's r&b/hiphop songs (i'll die by my hc that kunigami's an oldies fan)
mostly sways side to side to the music, but he did also dance a little, per request of bachira, and ended up talking to a cute person a for little, too 🤗
offers to help clean up in the morning
CHIGIRI HYOUMA:
at least two drunk girls have mistaken him for their friend, and another four have asked to touch his hair.
tried to use one of reo’s many bathrooms, found a couple making out, outwardly said “gross,” and then left to find another one 😭
nods his head and taps his foot to the music, not much of a dancer.
also a people-watcher, and he points out things he sees are happening to his friends.
“guys, i think misa and her boyfriend are breaking up, look.” leave that poor girl alone bro 😭
finds himself laughing a lot that night because damn! his friends are funny, whether they try to be or not.
not really a party person, but chigiri actually had a lot of fun 🥰
NARUHAYA ASAHI:
also on the dancefloor! doesn’t really dance, per say, but he jumps up and down and does the fist pump thing 😭 he has the spirit, let's give him that.
drank a lot of soda, so he’s filled with energy. also pees in at least three of reo's bathrooms.
talks to his friends, but also makes new ones! also i feel like he takes a lot of pictures LOL. he needs the finsta content 😭
plays truth or dare, or something like that. ends up having to do some stupid shit like smack raichi’s ass and run away, but naruhaya did make out with the girl next to him, so fair trade, he thinks.
also ends up in the pool, but he’s playing chicken with gagamaru and some other people. does not win a single round, but he had fun 😇
leaves with like four plates of food and one of reo’s decorative towels for some reason???
GAGAMARU GIN:
goes through a bunch of reo's shit 😭 he's not taking anything, but he's just curious LOL
strikes up very, random conversations with a bunch of people out of nowhere, good for him!
weirdly good at darts, very good aim.
although one round, naruhaya accidentally distracted gagamaru and one of darts ended up in reo's wall 💔
“it's fine, he has the money to fix it,” naruhaya shrugs as he walks away from reo's now punctured, wall. so true bestie!
gagamaru somehow ends up giving some drunk stranger some “life-changing” advice. (whether it's good or not is debatable)
they thank gagamaru for changing their life and he never sees them again
NAGI SEISHIRO:
irritates the fuck out the dj because nagi keeps asking him to play one specific song over and over again.
it was good the first time, don't wear it out for the rest of us bae 😭
doesn't really dance, just nods his head, maybe raps along a little, too
when he talks to the girls that come up to him, nagi says stuff like “yeah, the host and i go way back, we’re best friends.”
“way back,” my ass, but whatever nagi 🤨
knocks out in one of reo’s guest rooms. someone finds him when they’re trying to look for the bathroom and they draw a mustache and a bunch of other stupid shit on him 😭
tries to leave before reo makes him help clean up in the morning. does not work 👍
dumbass also ended up losing his phone (reo bought him a new one so nagi doesn't really care)
RAICHI JINGO:
gasses himself up sooo much when he’s trying to hit on girls.
“yeah, i'm about to go D1 after high school, just wait on it,” yeah, okay raichi 🙄
also tries to show them his highlights, bye. babe, i mean this in the nicest possible way but, i do not care, can we just kiss 🙏
i feel like he’s one of those boys who likes to take his shirt off for no reason, so raichi most definitely ends up shirtless at some point of the night 😭
takes pictures with reo’s fancy cars in his garage to flex 💀 gets annoyed when reo says raichi can’t drive them. raichi doesn't even have his license 😑
plays pool and is actually not that bad. does almost accidentally blind isagi with his cue, though.
IMAMURA YUUDAI:
he's with some girls but, he’s a dummy and he didn’t know his other hoes would be there, so imamura had quite a few drinks spilled on him here and there.
still somehow leaves with like three new girls snaps, four numbers, and a bunch of lipstick stains. not even gonna lie, i respect his game.
actually a really good dancer, and he knows he looks good, too. knows the words to every drake song that comes on, argue with your mom.
lip-syncs the words to you when you dance together and it makes you more flustered than you would think 🙄
the type to pull you close and wraps his arms around your waist or around your neck
actually really fun to talk to. always in the loop with drama and stuff, so he's always got some interesting conversation topics. and he's funny 😭
MIKAGE REO:
obviously, the party’s at his house. what’s the point of having a rich teammate if you can’t exploit them for their possessions?
jokes, but reo did offer to throw it at his mansion house in the first place.
actually really likes throwing parties lmao, so he jumped at the opportunity.
posted on his snap, “party at my place su for address‼️” LOL
natural charm + raised with good manners = reo being an amazing host
but, reo does have a little group of girls following him around the entire night 👎
and it irritates the hell out of whoever reo’s trying to talk to because they’re all up on him, making it hard for reo to pay attention 😑
also doesn’t help that he entertains them and flirts back and dances with a couple of them, too
and looks good when he dances, too UGH!!!! he's the type to run his hands up and down your body while he dances with you 😣
i hate this man 👎 /j
ITOSHI RIN:
practicing. he didn’t come. sike! rin has a social life, too, come on now, y'all 🙄
talked a big game about how he wouldn’t show up then he still came anyways, like rin, what 😭??
super good at cup pong and he knows it. he keeps beating ryusei and if you look closely, rin has something reminiscent of a smirk on his face.
a foot-tapper, not a dancer, which sucks because he’s not even bad at dancing, either 👎
a couple of girls come up to rin to flirt, but rin doesn’t give them the time of day. no response or anything just a little side eye 😭
rin just talks to his friends and that’s it, really.
actually internally glad for the chance to kickback and relax for once, tbh.
but, he refuses to admit he had any semblance of fun. (he did, rin’s just a weenie 😒)
NIKO IKKI:
the team forced him to come 😭
niko’s already a homebody and he doesn’t like loud noises or large social scenes, so he wasn’t too jazzed about going somewhere where the both of those things combine.
also he's picky with music so LOL. does like that one remix to the pursuit of happiness, though
he’s a wall-stander, i hate to break it to y’all. just watched everything from a distance and didn't talk to anyone except for isagi and his friends.
bye, if you don’t get off the damn wall and dance (he'd dance with me i'm different 🥰🤗)
keeps opening and closing his phone so he looks busy but that mf is literally just going through the settings app 😭
called his mom to bring him home an hour and a half in 👎
NANASE NIJIROU:
i hate to admit it, but he’s the annoying first year that documents everything on snap bye
he’s just excited to be there but like, there is no reason for his story to be half an hour long.
i'm not watching all of that! sorry that happened to you or good for you 🤗
probably playing games like spin the bottle or seven minutes in heaven. is very proud of himself for kissing four people in one night #bigmoves 🥳
stays with his group of friends and they're sooo loud and rowdy LMAOO. #firstyearthings
you can literally hear them laughing over the music, but they're having fun, so it's fine (at least of those kids hits people when they laugh too)
also dances, too! has super good energy and a natural sense of rhythm surprisingly 🥰 also a good hypeman!!!!! honestly, he's just really fun to be around tbh
overall, has a lot of fun, as you can tell by his story 😇
#queued#blue lock#blue lock x reader#bllk#bllk x reader#blue lock headcanons#bllk headcanons#bachira meguru#isagi yoichi#itoshi rin#rin itoshi#chigiri hyouma#nanase nijiro#naruhaya asahi#raichi jingo#nagi seishirou#reo mikage#mikage reo#niko ikki#bllk imagines#blue lock imagine#nagi x reader#itoshi rin x reader#nagi headcanons#gagamaru gin#kunigami rensuke#imamura yuudai#bachira x reader#reo x reader
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What to Do?: Chapter 2
One, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten
Summary: Logan realizing that his first mistake was seeing the other sides as anything other than coworkers. They weren't a family. They didn't even like each other. How had he not realized sooner?
Warnings: General anxiety, hurt/comfort, angst, and hurt feelings.
Word Count: 1,803
Logan could feel the tug in his gut of the others clearly trying to summon him into the centerpiece of the mindspace. For a split second he felt a jab of fear racing through him as he pondered whether or not he should actually go to them, they wouldn’t be happy about the decision he had decided to make for himself. If anything they’d probably be most cross with him about it, or… or perhaps they’d laugh at him. Say that it was ridiculous that he was trying to appear so professional with all the things that they knew about each other.
Yeah… they would most definitely try to laugh it off to clear the air, and to make him go back on his decision. To undermine his boundaries, and make him second guess himself when it came to this.
But he wouldn’t… he couldn’t.
Not about this, and most certainly not now. He had already talked himself into doing this, and he wasn’t going to let his imagination run away with him about it either.
He had made up his mind.
“Logan…” He could hear Patton referring to him.
“Logan.” He could hear Roman talking.
“Logan..” He could hear Virgil mumbling.
Logan’s fingers curled into his hands, and he could feel his temper flaring up before he even attempted to stamp it back down. “Shut up!” He snarled to himself, raising his hands to his ears as to block out the sounds of his name that came from inside his head. A part of him felt like sobbing, like curling up in a corner and just admitting defeat so that it would just make it all stop. But he couldn’t do that, and he knew that he couldn’t do that. There was too much work to be done… “Just stop!”
Logan. Logan. Logan…
Logan!
This could not wait another day, no matter what Logan tried to tell himself it just couldn’t. He needed to set things straight, and get it down with the others so they at least understood where he was on the matter, no matter how much it hurt their feelings. In the end, it would at least make him feel better, and hopefully… hopefully things would at least change then and he’d be listened to.
Even if it was only a little bit.
Straightening his back, and forcing his hands back down to his sides Logan rose up in the living room biting his tongue the entire time. He would only have to endure his name in their mouths for just a little bit longer, they might not listen, but at least they would know. And that’s literally all that he needed from them, it didn’t matter if they got upset or refused.
Because this was for him, not for them.
“Logan!” Virgil’s head whipped away from Patton and Roman, and to where Logan was standing. “Are you okay?” The anxious side tried to ask it cooly, but everyone could see his hands fidgeting with the loose threading strands of his sleeves. The anxiety he had felt coming off of Logan in waves had all but vanished the moment that he had arrived, and it had done very little to lessen Virgil’s own anxieties about the subject. His gaze seemed to look everywhere but Logan for an instance, before he finally willed himself to look at the logical side. “You seemed kind of anxious, and we were…” The words that were right on Virgil’s tongue died in an instant upon seeing the look on Logan’s face.
None of them had exactly gotten a chance to talk to Logan after his whole run in with Remus, but right then and there… Virgil wished that he had been there from the very start. To help Logan, and to help the logical side come to terms with the fact that his schedule hadn’t exactly been followed.
He wished… he wished that he had done something.
Because…
Logan didn’t look cold, he didn’t even appear to be disinterested in them like he had in the past when it came to discussing Roman’s daydreams or plans. He just looked…
Well it was weird, but he looked oddly polite.
Like a stranger waiting for someone to stop talking, so that he could speak his business.
Virgil swallowed thickly, “Deceit?” He merely asked, looking Logan up and down as if trying to spot any inconsistencies of the other side’s attire.
There was nothing.
And Logan slowly shook his head, his eyes remaining trained on Virgil steadily. He looked calm, the farthest thing from the side who used to scream falsehood at him and anyone who tried to lie to his face. His hair was a windswept mess, and his clothes even messier. With his tie loosened and the collar to his shirt unbuttoned by a single button. And it was that alone that sent alarm bells off in Virgil’s head, because despite all of that… Logan was here. He was calm, he was collected, and there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with him.
He looked fine.
But something was wrong, maybe it was just him but.. there had to be something wrong with Logan. He couldn’t be okay, not by any kind of standards. He knew Logan too well to know that the logical side would never show up to any kind of meeting with them dressed as he was. Logan was far too prideful for that, and he also knew that Roman would most certainly never let him live it down. So… something.. Something had to be wrong here. He couldn’t be okay.
Not after what happened.
“Logan,” Patton inched forward, a look of clear worry on his face. “You okay bucko? Are you feeling oka-”
“Logic.”
Patton blinked, hoping that he had misheard what Logan had just said to him. His voice chilly in the kind of way that made his back shiver, even if there wasn’t a single draft to be felt. “What?” He attempted a happy playful smile that wouldn’t betray how he was feeling, when the stoney look on Logan’s face didn’t even budge for a second he felt it slip right off into a puzzled frown. He was acutely aware of Roman and Virgil watching their interaction with the eyes of a hawk, their eyes were burning the back of his head. He could feel something inside of him tremble with that one word that Logan had spoken to him, and he hoped with everything that he was… that he’d only misheard Logan. With Logan’s firm unbreaking stare, and the obvious stares from the other two sides… he had to actively avoid squirming in place just from how uncomfortable he was starting to get from the change in atmosphere.
All it had taken was one word… and it felt like everything had just turned on its head.
Logan crossed his arms smoothly over his chest, “Given the state of our relationship, it is Logic.. Not Logan.” There wasn’t a single hint of joking or exaggeration in his voice, there was just that air of polite honesty that somehow managed to rub Patton the wrong way.
“What?” He asked again, his throat choking out the word. This time he was absolutely sure that he was about to cry, was this.. was this Logan ending their friendship? Was he really that tired of them and their jokes? Did he…
Did he hate them?
“What are you talking about?!” This time it was Roman who spoke up, the creative side had been lounging on the couch for a majority of the time. Only now rising once it was apparent how upset Patton was getting with Logan’s selective words, and to top it off… he was getting rather upset himself at it. Did this name change just go to Patton, or was it all of them combined? “Listen,” Roman tried to say patiently. “If you’re upset and angry about your schedule not being followed this is not the way to act about it, tell us and we’ll work something out. Don’t just pull this shit and expect us to not know what to do with it!”
Roman’s breath came out in hot angry puffs, he honestly hadn’t expected himself to get so worked up over this.
Logan’s eyes shifted over to him, clearly waiting a moment to see if Roman was done talking. “Creativity.” Roman’s lungs seized, and his breathing stopped right then and there with that one little word. Logan was… Logan was serious. “I am not angry.” He said patiently. “I understand that sometimes things come up that can get in the way of a preplanned schedule. It is okay, and I understand that nothing could be done that specific day.” Logan linked his fingers together. “However, I am merely stating that I wish to not be referred to so casually.”
Their mouths gaped openly, a mixture of concern, fear, and puzzlement written over each of their faces. For a moment Roman had no idea what to say, after everything involving Patton and Janus this just felt like one more thing that he didn’t understand. He was fairly certain that none of them understood this though, judging by the looks on each of their faces. None of them knew why Logan was choosing to pursue this, and honestly… he was kind of scared to know exactly why.
Because that meant in some kind of way… they had all fucked up.
Roman hated himself for the words that came out of him next, “Are we not close? I thought that knowing your name, and using it meant that.. that you trusted us with it.”
For a split second, Logan looked up to the ceiling and Roman fought the urge to bristle indignantly at the implications. The hurt in his heart steadily being replaced by a new feeling that he couldn’t yet put his finger on, but once he did…
“No,” Logan merely said, and didn’t elaborate. “I am going to go back to my room should you need to call on me again, I will be drafting up a new schedule that we can all hopefully agree upon, in the meantime... Have a good day.”
There wasn’t the tiniest hint of resignation or resentment, throughout everything that he’d told them Logan had remained polite to the very end. Even when he ducked out, there weren’t any side eyes, or upset looks from him. Just an air of civil courtesy, that felt so.. so unlike him. Logan got excited about his projects, and he got upset when they didn’t play out to how he wanted them exactly to go. He should have been upset, he should have been spitting barbs and being salty about his failed schedule, he should have reassured Virgil’s anxieties, and he should have…
He should trust them…
Shouldn’t he?
#logan sanders#ts logan#ts logan sanders#patton sanders#roman sanders#virgil sanders#mentions of janus#mentions of remus#sanders sides#ts sides#ts sanders sides#sanders sides fanfiction#ts sanders sides fanfiction#ts sides fanfiction
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what could've been ✷ fred weasley
(gif is not mine, credit to the owner) warnings / language word count / 2.1k
masterlist in bio ↴
IT WAS THE FIRST TIME IN months that Y/N had mustered up enough courage to visit Molly and Arthur at the Burrow, after the battle and all. It was the first time she'd even been able to think about stepping foot in the place when everything in it reminded her of the man she'd lost that day. She'd spent the whole day with his parents, after Molly had spent so much time begging for her to visit, but for some reason, Y/N couldn't bring herself to leave when the time came.
Being in the home had placed yet another crushing weight on her chest, but something about it was exactly what she needed, so Molly had offered up one of the children's old rooms, even though they were far from children now, due to age and experience alike. Y/N had thanked her for that, but something about going up the stairs seemed very, very wrong to her, and she decided to take the couch instead. The redheaded woman had made sure she was comfortable, with a nice, fluffy pillow for her head and a thick quilt to keep her warm, and she'd turned in for the night herself.
This had all happened hours ago, before Y/N had fallen asleep and woken up from a bad dream all the same. She couldn't say that she was surprised as she laid in the darkness of the living room, fidgeting with the ring on her left hand, that Fred Weasley still occupied her thoughts—definitely not when she was sitting in his childhood home—but she couldn't deny the way that it made her ache. Sometimes, when she woke up like this, she hoped that everything had all been a dream, but when she reached up to touch her cheek, to touch the scar that had been left as a reminder of a time she wished she could forget, she knew it had been anything but.
This night, though, seemed infinitely more painful without him.
The Burrow used to be a place of comfort, a safe haven of sorts. She had memories of countless summers spent there, playing under the beating sun with the Weasley kids and Harry Potter, and how full it had felt with all of them around, but after Fred's passing, after they'd all moved on with their lives and left the nest, it felt so empty. No longer was it noisy with the laughter that used to filter through them all or bright with shared smiles or zipping with fireworks set off by the twins.
Instead, it was hollow with the shells of their rooms—of his room—and void of belly laughs. It felt as tilted as it looked on the outside, like it was barely holding itself together anymore. It was empty hallways covered in shadows and quiet walls filled with moving pictures that made you want to stare at your feet.
It was less of a shelter now, and more of a memorial.
Y/N stared up at the ceiling, her right hand still on the engagement ring they'd found in his pocket, and she ran her thumb over the diamond. She could feel tears prickling in the spaces behind her eyes when she flipped her hand over and her eyes flickered to her finger, watching the only words he'd left behind for her light up like soft, orange embers. Forever yours — Fred. She watched the letters fade away in a matter of seconds, before she swiped her thumb over the diamond again. She did that a couple more times, before she couldn't bare it anymore, and she swallowed thickly to get rid of that familiar knot in her throat.
She pushed the quilt off of her body, finding it rather suffocating, now, and she sat up on the couch. She brought her knees over the edge and tugged her hands through her hair, and as she felt the cold band of her ring brushing against her forehead, she realized she'd forgotten what he smelled like. "Oh, God," she whispered into her wrists and the tears—fuck, they stung. The whole realization stung, in fact, and it felt like something had sucked the wind out of her lungs, because she couldn't remember.
If six months was all it took for her to forget the smell of maple syrup, fireworks, and a warm, summer evening, then she didn't want to know how long it would take to forget the sound of his laugh, or the shape of his nose, or the way it felt when she tucked herself into his arms after a long day.
She couldn't take it.
She couldn't sit there and let herself forget him when there was half a room dedicated to nobody but him, so she found it in herself to stand up, and make her way to the staircase. It seemed almost haunting, staring back at her as she looked at it, and it took her almost three minutes to take the first step. The railing was cold against the warmth of her palm and it sent a shiver running down her spine, but she shook it away.
Y/N pushed all her doubts to the back of her mind and she walked up the staircase, making her way to the door of the bedroom that he used to share with George. She put her hand on the doorknob and ripped it open like you'd rip off a bandage and she nearly crumbled. The smell of old parchment, broom polish, and stale gunpowder, along with what she'd recalled earlier, hit her like a ton of bricks and her knees buckled.
She took a step into the room and it felt like the walls were closing in on her, like her chest was caving in on her, but she made her way over to one of the two beds, the one that he used to sleep in, and she ran her fingers over the red quilt. It was cold to the touch, after months of sitting dormant, and she clenched her fingers into a fist. She remembered the nights where she'd be wrapped up in that very quilt, with Fred cuddled into her side, after she'd walked in after a nightmare, and he'd told her he'd keep her safe.
And he always did.
As her fingers brushed over the quilt, they ran over something else, something softer. She picked it up gently and leaned over towards the bedside table. She slipped her free hand under the lampshade and she turned on the light, washing the room in a soft yellow, and when she looked down at her hands, her breath caught in her throat. Christmas was only a month away, but in her fingertips, there was a sweater. It was a deep red and there was a golden 'F' stitched on the chest and she could feel her heart sink in realization.
Molly had still knitted him a sweater this year.
Y/N brought the fabric to her nose and she took a whiff, shutting her eyes tightly when the tears started to well up. She wasn't sure how long it had sat in the room, but it smelled just like him, all the same. She could feel that knot forming in her throat again and she decided to throw the sweater on over her own shirt, pulling the sleeves around her hands and hugging her arms to her body. Maybe, if she closed her eyes tight enough, it would feel like he was the one doing the hugging. She squeezed her eyes so tight, she could see starts, but even then, she couldn't change the fact that he wasn't. He wasn't hugging her and he never would be, not anymore.
Fred would never be there to wrap an arm around her in the mornings and pull her into his side while he held a cup of coffee in his other hand. He would never be there to scoop her up off of the ground after a good day at the shop and tell her how much he loved her. He would never be there to give her a bear hug when she wasn't feeling well. He would never be there at all, and the more she thought about it, the harder the tears started to fall, and she could feel her first vocal sob sputtering from her lips.
She didn't stop it, like she had when she was downstairs, but instead, she laid down on his bed and turned her back against the lamp, curling up into a ball and letting her cries get the best of her. She couldn't help but wonder what he would've done if he'd seen her like that, but she could only imagine. She remembered how after particularly bad nightmares he would hold her so tightly in the darkness, thread his long fingers through her hair, and tell her that everything was going to be just fine. She remembered how he would talk about other things to take her mind off of it and how, when he thought she'd fallen asleep, he'd start to tell her that he was going to marry her one day. He would talk about having a large family together, like his own, except with how well the joke shop was doing, they'd be able to spoil the kids. He would talk about having a nice, cozy home like the Burrow and a big yard where he could teach the kids how to play quidditch, and she couldn't stop sobbing now. She was so overtaken by the fact that she'd never get to have that with him, that she couldn't even breathe.
"Y/N, is that—" she'd barely even heard the door creak open as Molly walked in, and the woman stopped in her tracks when she did. The sight of seeing Y/N, who she'd looked after like her own all these years, in such a weak state was enough to make her own eyes water, and she brought a hand to her chest. "Oh, darling," she whispered, because her voice refused to go any higher, and she made her way over to the bed. She sat down beside the girl, whose body shook with every cry, and Y/N moved to hug her almost immediately. Molly didn't think she'd ever felt the girl hug her as hard as she did now, feeling her bury her face into her chest, and she wrapped her arms around her just as tightly. "I've got you, dear," she muttered sadly, and she laid back against the wall, a tear slipping down her own cheek.
Y/N's fists were balled up around the fabric of Molly's shirt and her eyes were squeezed shut as she sobbed. "I'm sorry," she whispered against the woman's chest. "I'm so, so sorry, Molly," she repeated, and she could feel herself breaking into pieces. Everything she'd tried to be since Fred died just came unraveling.
"No, dear," Molly whispered into her hair, pressing a kiss into it softly, and resting her chin on her head. "Don't be sorry, we all miss him. It's okay," she promised, giving her a good squeeze.
Y/N shook her head against her. "I'm sorry I couldn't save him," she elaborated, the moment flashing through her head like it had happened the day before—the smile that had been on his face, before it wasn't. "I should've stayed with him."
"Don't talk like that, darling." Molly leaned down to grab a fuzzy blanket that had been folded at the foot of the bed and she pulled it over herself and Y/N gently. "It wasn't your fault in the slightest," she reassured her and Y/N nodded, another son wracking her body, and Molly's eyebrows furrowed with concern.
"We would've gotten married," she said, acutely aware of the ring on her finger, and it was in that moment that Y/N absolutely shattered. Her hands tightened around Molly's shirt and she let out a strangled scream, feeling the woman tug her impossibly closer. "He was supposed to be the rest of my life, and without him, I'm nothing," she admitted, her lip quivering as she did.
Molly brushed her fingers through Y/N's hair softly, just like Fred used to, and she pressed her forehead against the girl's head. "You are still everything to me. To us," she promised on behalf of the rest of the Weasleys, and she smushed her cheek against her head. "We love you so much, sweet girl."
At that, Y/N just nodded and she continued to cry into Molly until she fell asleep.
In the morning, when the sun filtered through the window of the twins' old room, the woman was gone, and there was a plate of warm biscuits sitting in her place. The fact that Y/N was still in the room was the only indication that the last night had even happened at all.
#fred weasley#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley imagines#james phelps#james phelps x reader#james phelps imagines#george weasley#george weasley imagines#george weasley x reader#.
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the conclusion to the fëanorian tauriel saga! this one’s mostly about the state of affairs after she gets adopted into everyone’s favourite family of murderers, plus a couple of extra bits and bobs. there’s some more stuff i’d like to put down somewhere - a deleted scene, a minific - but this is mostly the end of my headcanons for this particular au. so far, anyway. part 1 part 2 part 3
mandos may have, in the past, given off the impression that fëanor would remain within the halls until dagor dagorath
that statement was always a bit of a conflation of terms. like everybody else in the halls, fëanor would get a clean pass for reinbodiment as and when he attended elf afterlife therapy and got a handle on his shit. it’s just nobody thought he would ever do that
but he has done that, and more besides. he’s honestly been clear to go for a while now, he just refused to leave until his sons were ready
and since then... mandos will admit to certain political pressures exerted towards keeping fëanor under lock and key
but over time, those pressures slowly yield to the fact that mandos absolutely cannot deal with this lunatic for the rest of arda
death has not put a damper on fëanor’s unstoppability. he was preoccupied for a long while with the damage done to his sons but with them all out he had a conspicious lack of things to Do
and a bored fëanor is a dangerous fëanor
so yeah. fëanor is less released from the halls of mandos as he is unceremoniously kicked out. mandos refuses to talk about it. the maiar of the halls throw a massive party
this all happens on extremely short notice. as in, manwë announces his release like half a day before it happens
this of course throws his extended family (and a decent proportion of the rest of the continent) into this massive frenzied whirlwind of panic. everybody thought they’d get more warning than this, and nobody knows what’s going to happen next
at the epicentre of this maelstrom is the elf himself. fëanor doesn’t know either, he’s still trying to catch up on everyone he left behind and everything that’s gone down since he died. so much has changed, and he’s still stumbling groggily in the darkness
at some point between his long-practiced apology to finarfin and the maglor encounter everyone’s been dreading, though, he makes an unexpected discovery
he has a daughter now. apparently
her name’s tauriel, she smells like woodsmoke. he first meets her when she wanders into the living room, blinks blearily for a couple of seconds, goes ‘hi dad!’ and immediately falls asleep on his lap
and it’s not like he’s not incredibly stoked to have another child, it’s just how???
the first time he asks this question, the motley collection of relatives and old friends he’s talking to all come to the same conclusion
they can either (a) walk him through the history of tauriel’s growing friendship with and eventual adoption into the least reputable branch of the house of finwë or (b) dump the latest copy of the grand unified tauriel conspiracy theory on him with absolutely no context
considering they’re the hellfamily and friends, they go for the chaos option
it takes fëanor, like, two days to read it. the thing was ridiculously elaborate even before people started competing to come up with the craziest possible theories
the people around him keep the ruse going as long as they can stretch it. eventually celebrimbor takes pity on him, and legolas fills in the details
(legolas currently occupies a position in the fëanorian internal hierarchy not dissimilar to fingon’s. he has no idea how to interpret that)
fëanor also just. talks to tauriel. about how she came, and why she stayed
the next day, fëanor loudly announces to the entirety of tirion that he has a new daughter, her name is tauriel and she’s amazing
she’s been a de facto part of the house for years but this is the first official confirmation of it. the news, and the gossip, spreads all over aman
not that this marks a massive turning point for tauriel. even without a big announcement, she made which side she was on pretty clear back when shit went down
and honestly her life hasn’t changed that much since then. she still spends most of her time exploring noldorin country or chilling in the forest with her silvan friends
this isn’t too uncommon a situation for a member of the house of fëanor. they usually do their own thing, whatever that may be. even nerdanel abandons her house every so often to spend a year or two in the mountains
even in tirion, it’s not that different. she still crashes in the same place, hangs with the same people
she just also occasionally does stuff for :mobster voice: the family
she’s part of the second generation’s extremely overprotective mutual defence web. she has a few responsibilities vis-a-vis the definitely-not-minions. she’s not quite as magnetic as her older brothers, but she’s charismatic enough people tend to both legitimately like and let their guard down around her
she goes to court events sometimes, if she’s in town and in the mood. she’s not virulently allergic to it like celegorm but she doesn’t thrive there the way elrond does. she prefers lower-city forge parties. way more booze, way less bling
(the greenwood elves have stopped needing to bring her along to every political meeting for quote-unquote moral support. everyone knows who she rides with now, and the court bureaucrats tend to give her people whatever they want without the need for extortion)
she’s not the rowdiest of fëanor and nerdanel’s brood, but that’s really not saying much. she’s kicked off the last vestiges of social respectably and indulges fully in her family’s ability to do whatever they want, whenever they want, because who’s seriously going to tell a kinslayer they can’t do something?
a decent proportion of the population of tirion, it turns out. eh, the arguments are always fun
that’s the state of tauriel’s life when fëanor comes back. afterwards - like i said, it doesn’t change terribly much, fëanor rocking valinor to its core notwithstanding
he is massively, intensely supportive of everything she does. she knows that it’s partially that this family is just Like That, but she also gets the vibe he’s overinvesting a little? she’s the only one of his children who doesn’t have a reason to hate him
but they get along fine. he’s had a lot of practice at being a dad, and is trying to improve on his personal faults. his relationship with her is blissfully uncomplicated compared to the mess most of his pre-death bonds are, and while she’ll protect her brothers from him if need be she’ll protect him too when the world is out to get him
there’s this moment at one of those fancy court galas. tauriel’s chatting with some sindarin visitors when something explodes a few rooms away
almost immediately, she locks gazes with curufin, who’s peoplewatching some distance away. they have a conversation conducted entirely in eyeflicks that could be summarised as ‘did he just...’ ‘alas he probably did’
they stride out of the hall together to rescue their idiot dad from the consequences of his terrible decisions
that’s another subtlety to the way the fëanorians work, tauriel is discovering. the siblings hellspawn may be a constant fight cloud of bickering nutbags (with the obvious exception of herself) but they all always out-sane their dad
she keeps learning things like this as the years roll on and her families get closer. she finds silvans having tea with nerdanel, tirion craftselves looking for her in the woods. across both of her worlds, she’s building a posse
(just like her brothers did, long long ago under the light of the trees. when next the host rides to war, there will be those who follow tauriel’s banner)
even legolas has mostly gotten over it. their initial friendship, after all, was founded on them both being chaos children. tauriel is one in a way they called silvan in greenwood and noldorin in aman, fully conscious that the powers that be disapprove of her shenanigans and deliberately and vindictively defying them
legolas’ style is more sindarin, vaguely aware that the rules exist but doesn’t really understand how they apply to him. he did sneak a dwarf up the straight road, after all. him and tauriel got up to so much nonsense when they were kids, and no matter who else she runs with, he’ll always be her best friend
he’ll never be fully comfortable with the literal childhood horror stories she’s taken up with, but for her sake he’s willing to try. they might be scary, but, he’s realising, they can be fun too
(even if he does spend most of their family gatherings hiding behind elrond)
and then, one day...
tauriel doesn’t exactly pine for kíli, but she does kind of regret how it all turned out. she wonders what being in a relationship with him would have been like, sometimes
but he’s a dwarf, and she’s an elf, and she can’t leave the undying lands, and dwarves aren’t supposed to come here. they are sundered until the breaking of the world
when she tells this to fëanor, this massive smug grin spreads across his face. ‘unless’
three hours later, they’ve turned fëanor’s front room into a base of operations. maedhros is on project management, caranthir is on logistics, amras is going down a list of maiar they can strongarm. celebrimbor stops by, looks at the plans on the walls, and, somewhat excitedly, goes ‘are we breaking into the dwarven afterlife???’
yes. yes they are
epilogue:
when the end comes and all elves return to cuivénen, certain people tauriel knew back in middle-earth discover what she’s been doing for the past few ages
they get the full skinny later, after they talk to her and stuff, but the first whisper they hear is ‘tauriel’s been taken in by the fëanorians’
reactions vary. tauriel’s mama, who doesn’t recognise the name, goes ‘the spirits of fire? that’s sounds so much like her, i’m so happy she’s made friends’
tauriel’s mummy, who does recognise the name, is laughing too hard to speak
and thranduil cradles his head in his hands. ‘of course’ he mutters ‘of course she fucking did’
#silmarillion#tauriel#house of feanor#the feanorian tauriel saga#my terrible fic#wow this ended up way longer than i expected#sorry if it's rambly i stayed up kinda late#and yeah! that's my headcanons for this au!#like i said there's a couple more things i wanna write#and once i'm done i'll probably put it all up on ao3#with edits (read: capitalisation)
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Wrong place, wrong time
Finally, here’s the second part, it’s a bit short but I think it’s not so terrible. I hope you guys enjoy it. I’m sorry it took a while for me to post it but I wasn’t getting any inspiration. I honestly hope this is good.
Here’s Part 1
Summary: You needed to get in, seal the deal and get out. That would have been easy if a certain group of three men hadn´t been making business with Selby at the same time as you were.
Relationships: (different endings, you’ll choose) Bucky x reader, Sam x reader, Zemo x reader.
Warnings: Mentions of death and past trauma.
Part 2
You rolled and twisted all night. You didn´t get one hour of sleep and Sharon was already hurrying everybody into leaving.
You would go with the guys after visiting the man that had recreated the serum, so you staying in Sharon´s apartment wasn´t an option. You wanted to argue, knowing you would only be a load, but Sam and Bucky guaranteed you would be fine, that they would protect you, so to not cause any more trouble, you agreed.
You walked as a group between the containers until Sharon found the one you were headed to. It was empty, but your love for movies and secret doors forced you to look for an entrance, and just as you were about to give up, you found it. You pushed the wall reveling a hidden door and walked through it. You were too intrigued to look behind you and catch the surprised faces Sam, Bucky and Zemo had.
-And she thought she was gonna be a load- Zemo laughed, and as much as Bucky and Sam wanted to roll their eyes at Zemo, they found themselves nodding and even chuckling in agreement.
You shortly remembered you had no way of defending yourself, so you quickly turned around and Bucky seemed to catch your thought, because he placed his hand on your back, gave you a reassuring nod and sent you to walk behind him, covering you protectively.
It was hard not to admire the metal-armed guy. Just by his actions it was pretty clear he had been through a lot, and that he wanted nothing more than to help. You knew a bit about the Avengers, only what you had seen in the news occasionally, but you didn´t know much about any of your traveling companions, only what they had told you so far.
Zemo and Sam were following closely behind you, and they too couldn´t help but admire the view they found in front of them. Sam, since Selby died, refused to let you get involved in more issues, which is why he didn´t immediately react and helped you when you were escaping, but now that you were practically stuck with them, he couldn´t help but thank Zemo for helping you, not out loud, of course. Zemo, on the other hand, had many mixed feelings. He had felt the need to protect you since he saw you, he almost laughed at how out of place you seemed when in Selby´s office. He couldn´t deny the growing feeling of wanting to know everything about you, but it was hard; he knew his wife would have wanted him to be happy and move on, but he was sure that, giving the circumstances, he had no chance with you.
As you got closer to your target, you heard the guy singing along a song you knew. It was hard to fight the impulse of singing as well, but you weren´t going to compromise the whole mission just to get a few seconds of one of the things you enjoyed doing the most.
Before they called the scientist out, Sam led you to a corner and asked you to stay there, he didn´t want to put you at risk. You silently obeyed.
The following events happened way too fast. Sharon warned the guys that the bounty hunters were outside; the guys got information from the scientist but lost whatever other thing he could say because Zemo shot him as Sharon arrived. You were in shock. You had never seen anyone die before, not like that, and it hurt Zemo deeply. Knowing he had to do that with you there, he hated himself for causing such hurt in you, but it had been necessary. You didn´t want to understand, you didn´t want to think about it, or talk about it. You were sure Zemo had his reasons, you didn´t justify him, at all, but you didn´t want to ask.
An explosion followed the events, and if Sam hadn´t gone back for you, you wouldn´t have heard Bucky calling your name because of the high pulsating sound that you had in your ears as a result from the explosion. Sam threw his arm around your waist and guided you out. The warm feeling of his body helped a little bit, you were more focused and the sounds returned to you.
Bucky and Sam were arguing about god knows what when you saw him. Zemo was wearing a purple mask (that you would have found insanely hot if he hadn´t just shot a guy). He was racing on top of the containers, and in agile and fast movements he knocked three guys and caused an explosion (you didn´t see how) that got rid of the other ones.
It was Bucky´s turn to grab your hand and lead you to a container, where Sam, Sharon, Bucky and you hid until you heard a roar and wheels squealing. You walked outside with a puzzled gaze, and you couldn´t help the laughter that came out from you as you saw Zemo in a beautiful, shining car.
-Fully charged- he said with a huge smirk as he winked at you. You giggled like a schoolgirl and hoped no one had noticed the redness in your cheeks. You headed for the front seat, and from the inside Zemo opened the door for you. Sharon said goodbye and walked away.
-I apologize, it wasn´t my intention for you to see that- Zemo said softly and with a truthfully regretful face. He was talking about him shooting the doctor.
-Look, I won´t say I understand, but again, I know nothing about what´s going on so I´m not gonna judge you. I might be a complete pacifist, but I can understand we all have our reasons to do what we do, and, well, you are consistent in your words and actions-.
Sam and Bucky were fighting about who would take which place, but as they heard the conversation going on between you and the Baron, they both stopped to listen. Zemo looked at you, waiting for you to elaborate.
-What I mean is, you said you believe the serum needs to be destroyed, so ending the person that knew how to recreate it seems like a step for that- Zemo was left speechless. You made it clear you didn´t agree or approve of what he did, but you were still saying you tried to understand, and you recognized you weren´t one to judge him. Each time you opened your mouth, the three were stunned. For a moment, Bucky told himself you would be an ideal person to talk to about everything he had gone through, if you tried to understand Zemo, maybe you would be able to help him to stop seeing himself as a monster, but he quickly scolded himself for having that thought, remembering he knew you from less than two days.
You were now inside Zemo´s jet. To say you were impressed was a complete understatement. You had never seen such luxury, and your three new friends find it insanely cute how you got excited over a fancy glass of champagne, and how much you praised Oeznik for the wine he offered.
Shortly after, you were all at Riga. Bucky excused himself and went for a walk, and Zemo showed the safehouse you would be staying at. It was small, but still managed to be fancier than all the houses you had ever lived in. It was cozy and you had a room of your own, thing that you appreciated. You wouldn´t have been able to keep your composure if having to sleep next to any of the guys.
-Here, I sent Oeznik to buy some clothes for you- Zemo handed you three huge bags filled with what seemed to be comfortable and fashionable clothes.
-Wait, what? Oh you didn´t have to, here I´ll pay you for them and please, where´s Oeznik? I need to thank him as well…-Zemo didn´t let you continue.
-Hey, these are on me, and you can thank Oeznik tomorrow, he´s staying somewhere else, for his safety-. You would have argued and even tried to force Zemo to grab the money you were offering, but something on his eyes said he needed to do this for you, so instead, you hugged him.
His body felt still and hard at first, but he slowly dropped the bags he was carrying and complied. You quickly separated and headed for your room in order to change.
Once you had a fresh set of clothes, Sam and you decided to make something to eat. Pasta pesto was what you decided to make. While the pasta was cooking and after the sauce was done, you couldn´t help put cover your finger in oil and splatter it in Sam´s face. He looked at you in shock and you immediately regretted the action, feeling completely embarrassed, but before you knew, he acted.
-Oh, hell no!- he said as he smashed an egg against your head. You laughed out loud and continued looking for things to throw at him. This escalated to the point in which Zemo, that was siting calmly across the room, ended covered in flour (no, he didn´t participate in the food fight), and when Bucky arrived he could only see two children playing behind the counter.
-Guys- Bucky announced, calling you and Sam´s attention and stopping your giggles.
-The Dora Milaje are after Zemo, I managed to get you some more hours, but they aren´t happy-.
-Thank you for defending me, James- Zemo said with a smirk and Bucky just responded with a gruff.
-Wait, who are those? What will they do to Zemo?- You asked as you cleaned the cinnamon that covered your arm.
-They are Wakandan warriors, implacable ones, and they want to take Zemo back to prison- Your heart sank at the idea of not seeing him again. You looked at him with obvious sadness in your face.
-But you can stop them right? They won´t take him?- Your heartbroken voice shattered all three man, but they weren´t gonna lie to you.
-I can´t do anything, they have the right to imprison him, and nothing I do or say will change that- Bucky finished. Zemo turned to you and gave you a reassuring smile. You read his lips saying I´ll be fine, but you didin´t want to say goodbye, to any of them, why did you have to?
Taglist:
@bry-97
#tfatws#bucky barnes x reader#sam wilson x reader#helmut zemo x reader#james buchanan barnes#sam wilson#hemlut zemo#zemo#fan fiction#mcu#mcu x reader#marvel#marvel x y/n#bucky barnes#sam wilson imagine#helmut zemo fanfiction
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Look I knew from things my friend reblogged that you have A Gift but now I'm following you and crying every time you post because it is ALWAYS top quality and I am but a poor little goblin with Feelings. You are my favorite and I love you. (also "oh what a hairy valley it is" is fucking hilarious I laugh every time I read it)
You are my new favourite and I love you too! Especially because you find “oh what a hairy valley it is” funny. As thanks, I hope you like a bit of a twist on the Witcher Wolf Pack and their Bard in a modern setting.
Street life was harsh but the wolves had learned how to play the game over the decades. Witchers had become nothing more than myths and they had died out. Or rather, they faded from visible existence and found ways to get with the times. But nobody really wanted grizzly, musclebound men with facial scars so the wolves of Kaer Morhen were left behind by society. It wasn’t like they could get paperwork and ID needed for work and rent, so they lived on the fringes, accepted the ‘help’ of a sorcerer. It wasn’t much better, living on the streets as wolves most idiots mistook for large dogs. But at least they could slink around relatively undisturbed. They could shift forms as they needed but most of the time, they remained four legged.
They had a whole system worked out, honourable as much as thieves could be. Because they needed to steal, needed food and money to survive. The back alley that they’d pulled blankets and cardboard boxes to had become home. But they couldn’t live off things they fished out of the dumpster all the time. It was how they ended up with a range of schemes and ploys.
Easiest was the sad, scared puppy game. It was one that Lambert excelled at, looking vulnerable. If he rolled in a puddle first, he could look exceptionally pitiful. His scars showed up the least too and, as the youngest, he often got the most response. Some days he would hang around outside a food shop and whimper at those going in. The more generous humans would emerge with their shopping plus a little something for him. When something was thrown his way, Lambert would snatch it out of the air and run, hide the stash until he could haul his trophies home to share.
More elaborate was the teamwork of Vesemir and Eskel. They didn’t pull it off often because it was much more dangerous for them both. At some traffic lights where cars were slowing down, Eskel would step in front of a car and get clipped. He’d perfected the art of just getting a glancing bruise on his shoulder but it sounded impressive enough. Once the car stopped, Vesemir, in his grizzled old glory, would fling himself in front of the car with a whimpering howl. That usually got everyone’s attention, the poor old dog, shaking and quivering on the floor. It was enough of a distraction for Eskel to shift to human form and dive into the car, pulling anything of value out. They had to be so careful, not taking anything from those who obviously were in need. That was on top of the constant worry that Eskel could actually get hurt or Vesemir would get carted off to the pound. But the few times they did it, they often got enough things to pawn or, once, a shopping bag full of party food.
Geralt was too bulky to look sad in front of a shop, he got chased with a broom more often than not. He also didn’t have Eskel’s light fingers to steal from cars or Vesemir’s gravitas to look convincingly injured. What he could do though was pickpocket and steal bags. It was so easy to walk pad through a square, a stray dog nobody paid attention to. A snout in a passing pocket resulted in a mouthful of wallet. And the times someone put a bag down to look at their phone or, rarely, to pet him, he could pick up the bag and trot off without much fuss. The other thing Geralt did was trail buskers. He learned about them, knew those who were busking for fun and those who needed the coins tossed at them. Those who did it for a hobby, Geralt had no qualms about ambling up to and snuffling their things. It usually earned him a pat on the head and a laugh. It meant he could curl up with whoever it was playing and, at the end of their stint, Geralt could snuffled a little more under the pretence of curiosity. Nobody ever thought to look in his mouth to find the coins they could have sworn were there.
It was a great ploy until a new busker turned up. Geralt couldn’t get a read on him. The man looked and acted like a peacock but he smelled tired and hurting. Before Geralt could even approach him to investigate, the man was setting his instrument to the side and reaching out in invitation for Geralt to join him.
“You might need a bit of rest.” The man said and pulled a water bottle from his pack. Shoving his handwritten sign of gratitude from the plastic container, it was filled up with water instead. “It’s a warm day, I doubt there are puddles around for you.”
It turned out, the man chattered a lot when he wasn’t playing. He was called Jaskier, had no real family to speak of and loved singing. There was an art to speaking a lot without saying much and Geralt knew Jaskier was a master. In the evening, when Jaskier packed up, Geralt couldn’t bring himself to take any of his coin.
“If you’re ever in the area, you’ll always have a blanket to rest on with me,” Jaskier promised and waved to Geralt. It was only then that Geralt realised that not once did Jaskier touch him.
Once a week, Geralt sought Jaskier out. It was oddly relaxing and on his third visit, Geralt found he had actually fallen into a deep sleep, trusting this stranger to keep him protected. Of course, the others teased him about it relentlessly. Late at night when they were all sprawled in their alley with a rare treat of beer Eskel had managed to snag, they laughed about Geralt’s crush.
“Fine. You go see if you can do better,” he grumbled.
From then on, the wolves took turns and each came back suitably cowed. Eskel had taken the first chance to go see Jaskier for himself. He’d come back subdued and quiet. “He told be about his White Wolf,” he’d said. “How I must be his brother because I’m just as handsome.”
There was nothing handsome about Eskel, or so he thought. His scarring in wolf and human form had his lip pulled up and, as a wolf, he looked like he was continually snarling, teeth bared.
“He wasn’t scared,” Eskel whispered in wonder.
Unable to believe it all, Lambert went to see Jaskier next. He only came back late at night and refused to say anything. It was only later the next night that he whispered to Eskel that he’d tried to goad Jaskier into hurting him, to prove a point. And he got belly rubs instead. Which were a lot nicer than anything Lambert had experienced in a long time, so he had to slink off and think for a few hours before returning home.
Vesemir still had his doubts. His three pups might have been taken in by the singing stranger but he was suspicious. Determined to get to the bottom of their infatuation, Vesemir set out to spy on Jaskier. It didn’t go as well as planned because he was spotted and beckoned over. Even worse, there were freshly bought treats in Jaskier’s pocket, coming out to appease him.
“You look like you could be their father,” Jaskier prattled, handing over another treat. “The same noble, ancient look they’ve got. Living on the streets is no easy feat and I imagine you’ve done it your whole lives. But your pack seem wonderful. You ought to be proud of your boys.”
Vesemir would have thought it all some great, cunning plan were it not for the fact that he could smell the street on Jaskier. Obviously he’d been sleeping in hostels or the like until recently. And yet there he was with the best treats he could afford for a bunch of stray dogs who he knew to be wolves.
From then on, Jaskier enjoyed the company of a wolf beside him for four of the seven days of the week. Geralt slept on the blanket, running and eating in his sleep. By contrast, Lambert was needy, demanding attention and petting, constantly by Jaskier’s feet. Eskel liked to lie calmly and watch, sometimes he’d howl along and get laughs. Occasionally trotting off and coming back with a snack or a drink for them, clutched carefully in his mouth. The first time he presented Jaskier with a sandwich, he man had looked both scandalised and then blissed out as he bit into it like he was starving. Vesemir was by far the calmest, he watched Jaskier rather than the crowds around them, keeping track of how things changed.
“He sleeps on the streets,” he told his pups one night. “I worry for him.”
They couldn’t find Jaskier though, it was a large city and there were a lot of places to hide. By pure luck, they were settling down into a tangle of limbs, tails and fur when they heard voices.
“Just hand it over and you’ll live.” A menacing voice growled.
“I can’t give you that. It’s how I make what little money I have. I’ve already offered you everything I can!” That was definitely Jaskier.
“Along these parts, our word is law. You’ve not paid your dues and now we’re raising fees.”
There was the soft thump of someone being struck and the smell of blood. The wolves were up on their feet as one, quietly padding closer to investigate. Jaskier was on his knees, guitar behind him along with his usual pack which looked like it had been rifled through already. Opposite him were three men, one of them with a nail studded baseball bat.
“I think you need to be taught a lesson,” the man snarled and raised the bat. It arced through the air and there was the sound of it striking flesh and a sharp whine of a wolf in pain rang through the alley.
“What the fuck?”
Geralt was laid flat on the floor and panting, white fur staining red. The other three wolves were snapping and growling at the attackers while Jaskier knelt and watched in awe. Lambert jumped first, jaw latching around the wrist holding the bat and shaking his head.
In two minutes, the attackers were running, bleeding and cursing and the alley was silent save for the panting of the wolves. Eskel and Vesemir shared a look as they approached Geralt. They shifted, ignoring the gasp of surprise from Jaskier.
“You need to shift, pup,” Vesemir stroked over Geralt’s head. “Let us get a better look.”
It took a moment longer but Geralt was human once again and wheezing.
“Fuck,” he gasped, hands clenched in fists.
“Let them sort it,” Lambert murmured from just behind Jaskier, making him jump. “It’ll be okay. Geralt’s just a drama queen.”
“A drama queen with broken ribs,” Eskel grumbled. “At least the nails didn’t puncture his lung.”
In all of that, Jaskier was quiet and surprisingly unafraid. Puzzled, most definitely but he didn’t panic or run.
“Will he be okay?” he asked, soft and worried.
“He’s a strong one, survived a lot worse.” The reassurance from Vesemir lifted a little of the tension. “Why aren’t you running and screaming?”
“Why should I? You saved my life and you’re the wolves I’ve known for weeks now. It’s nice that you can talk back now.”
That seemed to settle matters somehow. And the wolves got a fourth act in their repertoire. Now, Jaskier sang and busked with the protection of a wolf by his side at all times. And, when he returned back to the alley, he always shared his bounty with the others.
“And when I get famous, you’re all coming with me. We’ll tour the world together,” he promised each night from the centre of the wolf pile. It usually earned at least one tail thump or a chuffed out wolf-y laugh. The wolves might have indulged him in such fantasies but they were the ones who had to eat their words. A talent scout did indeed pick Jaskier up. Along with his four wolves who became his bodyguards.
Part 2 here.
#geraskier#geralt of rivia#jaskier#eskel#lambert#vesemir#witcher wolf pack#hurt/comfort#modern au#long post#tldr: the witcher wolf pack adopts busker jaskier#cw: mild injury#shifter au
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ssw | embry call; he looks down. she looks up.
NOTES:
I preface with the following.. I am not a medical professional. I have never had any kind of amnesia, temporary or otherwise. So.. yeah. Anyway.. the tldr here is this idea came to me and it’s weird and i didn’t know what to think of it at first but honestly, having written it out now I kind of like it? And I think it’s gonna be a short series... kinda? Allow me to elaborate.. normally, for the ssw prompts I use like 3 or four six word sentences as ideas / parts of the oneshot, etc but with this one, I think I’m going to use one for each part because I did that with this one and I like the way it came out? Since I had four other equally good prompts chosen for the doc I started with him, I’m just gonna use the rest of those to kinda continue this? To an extent?
Anyway, enough rambling.
PROMPTS:
Taken from [ here ] or [ here ].
Inspiration / prompt used here was He looks down. She looks up.
FANDOM/CHARACTER:
Twilight / Embry Call x Imprint!OC, Merisa.
WARNING:
Amnesia tw. Injuries mentioned very vaguely. Beyond that, I guess mutual pining / a kinda slow burn and mentions of a jerk soon to be ex boyfriend.. Embry and this original character are both adults, approx 23-24 years in age just in case anyone’s wondering...
TAGGING:
@kyleoreillysknee
OTHER STUFF:
[ faq | request rules | sfw masterlist | tag list doc ]
The last thing I remember is hitting a water pocket. My head bouncing off the steering wheel. The sound of metal groaning and glass shattering before everything went totally black.
And now, upon awakening, everything is foggy... At first,I can’t remember my name, where I was going or where I came from. I can’t even remember what day or year it is.
When I really started to come to, everything hurt. From the roots of my hair all the way to the tips of my toes. I grimaced as I pulled myself up in bed. My stomach was growling. My eyes darted around the unfamiliar room and the scent of bacon frying only worsened the pronounced hunger I was feeling.
“Where am I?” I muttered to myself as I gingerly made an attempt to slip out of bed. But the second my bare feet connected with aged and cold wooden floorboards, the mild pain I’d been feeling only intensified. When the door to the room creaked open quietly, I was just getting back into bed.
The man standing in the doorway didn’t spark a shred of recognition. God do I wish he did because I like to think that if I even have a type, he has to be it. He kind of looks like a man you’d find gracing the cover of the cheap erotica I read.
At the realization that I’d just remembered something, even if it was something insignificant, I was laughing softly at myself and shaking my head about it. I took a deep breath.
“Uh.. hi.” I muttered finally, just to break the silence and the sudden thickening of the air around us.
He hadn’t broken his gaze or made a step into the room. When I spoke up, he jumped a little as if I’d startled him. My brow raised and I tried again. “Do I know you?”
“Not likely. Not well, I mean...” the guy answered after a second or two of hesitation.
I blew at a strand of hair fallen down in my eye. Dragged my fingers through my hair as I mulled it over. “Okay, let’s try this… How did I get here?”
“How much do you remember?” he questioned, not taking his eyes off of me. Avoiding the question I’d asked. I swallowed hard and really tried to think. Trying to grasp at anything, any shred of a memory.
I remembered the sound of metal groaning. Glass shattering. The icy chill of water as it lapped at my feet. Feeling like I was about to die at any second. My brows knit in frustration and the guy was at my side in seconds. Sitting hesitantly on the bed near me. Close but not close enough for my liking somehow.
I pouted about it for a second or two and pushed it to the side, taking a deep breath. “I was in a wreck, wasn’t I?”
“Mhm. You almost died, actually.”
“I thought so. Okay, now it’s your turn.. Where am I?”
“You’re in La Push.”
The words stirred little bits. Fragments of memory. An older woman with a kind but aging face. The smell of bourbon and a man with long black hair shouting at another woman. Stepping forward like he was going to shove her at any second. A little girl crouched out of sight behind furniture until the older woman picked her up and carried her out. And I knew without knowing somehow that the little girl was me.
I grimaced. Both in confusion and irritation that I couldn’t remember more. Because whatever I’d just recalled felt like it happened a lifetime ago and not recently.
How old was I?
“You remembered something, huh?” he asked, studying me quietly. A look of concern on his face.
“I think… But it doesn’t answer anything I’m wondering at the moment.” I sighed and took a deep breath. Asked another question after a few seconds that seemed to drag on forever. “What’s your name?”
“Embry.”
Another random trivial memory surfaced. The woman was there again. Introducing me to a group of boys who were all dirty from playing in the mud. I strained to focus. Honing in on the fact that she introduced me to the group as her granddaughter. My name was Merisa.
I cheered a little in triumph, forgetting for just the briefest of moments that I was literally a breathing ball of pain at the moment when I shot up off the bed to pump my fist in the air. Embry’s hand caught on my hips and he managed to keep me from crashing to the floor.
He smiled. A smile so bright that it seemed to bring light to the dullness of the room we were in. A smile, I found myself thinking, I’d give anything to see again.
“Easy. Whoa. The doctor said you’ve got some pretty gnarly injuries.” Embry scolded as he looked down at me in concern.
I nodded. Excited when I opened my mouth and started to babble about remembering my name. Remembering my grandmother and possibly growing up here in town. And on the heels of the happy came the sad.
A casket. A graveside service with gray clouds overhead and a fine mist of rain. Feeling numb and empty. Angry for some reason. This had me frowning. Shaking my head sadly.
“She’s dead.” I muttered the words. Deflated. Numb all over again.
Embry watched me like I was a landmine waiting to be triggered, his brow raising as if something I’d remembered was wrong but he didn’t dare tell me so. Sitting up like he was on high alert. Like he wanted to move closer. To attempt to offer comfort. But he didn’t dare.
A tear rolled down my cheek. I raised my hand and stopped it midway. Taking a few shaky breaths. The night of the accident came flooding back, the gaps filling themselves in as it did. I’d been crying when I left my mom’s funeral. Trying to call my grandmother. But I remembered that she was at a tribal meeting and she didn’t keep her phone turned on during tribal meetings. I must have taken my eyes off the road for a second, tops. The car hit a water pocket and went off the road. Hitting trees and flipping over a time or two before settling at the bottom of a steep hill. Next to water. Someone was pulling me out of my car. I recognized in an instant that Embry had been the one to pull me out. I remembered that he volunteered with fire and rescue.
I went quiet as I finished telling him what I was remembering. Wiping at my eyes.
And then it hit me. I didn’t really know Embry well but I did know of him aside from the fact that he pretty much saved my life the night of my accident... He was also the quiet kid down the street. One of the boys my grandma introduced me to that day.
“I do know you, actually.” I smiled at him softly, wiping at my eyes. I don’t know why, but I just didn’t mention that I knew he saved my life.
“Yeah, but not well. Kind of why I figured you’d have a meltdown when your grandma asked me to sit with you while she was out.” Embry muttered quietly. Leaning in just a little. His hand raised. A thumb rolling over my cheek as he wiped away another tear. Our eyes met and my breath caught in my throat.
“So we’re at my grandma’s. My old room.” I looked around at the room again and it felt right. From the books piled on my desk, an erotic novel turned face up and open where I’d left off reading to the posters tacked up on the wall. A contrast to my apartment I realized as soon as I started to remember the fact that I lived in Seattle.
I racked my brain trying to remember whether anyone there would be worried or missing me. I felt like there was someone waiting back there, but at the same time, I felt like maybe being here was better than being there.
Like whoever it was that might be waiting was someone I wanted to get away from.
“Greg called.” Embry spoke up after a second or two. He dragged his hand through long black hair as he held my gaze. A slightly irritated look on his face at even mentioning the guys name. “He wanted me to make sure I didn’t forget to tell you.” Embry chuckled at this, going quiet again.
When he said the name Greg, the mental image flooded my mind and my previous thought about someone waiting in Seattle proved correct. Greg was my boyfriend and honestly, he was a bit of an asshole. Uptight and moody. A bit on the controlling side under the guise of ‘this is for your own good’. I immediately started to remember a huge fight we had because apparently, he wasn’t happy about me coming back to the reservation for my mom’s funeral. Leaving him. But he refused to come along with me because to quote him “It’s not my type of thing.” and “I’m not good at emotional stuff, Mer.”
I grumbled and shrugged. “I’m not in the mood to talk to that bag of dicks.” I muttered, brushing it off. More concerned with my own current situation than I was with calling Greg to check in. It wasn’t as if he’d magically care enough to come anyway, he hadn’t come back with me for my mom’s funeral. The thought left a bitter taste in my mouth because I remembered several instances in a rush. All of them were me, giving up something I wanted because Greg insisted on it.
,, Christ, why am I even with this mega asshole? I mean.. My grandma lives next to the literal embodiment of sex...” the thought had me perplexed because I didn’t remember enough to really pinpoint a good reason. Something told me that may or may not be a blessing in disguise. From the little I was able to recall about Embry, I found myself wondering why I wasn’t with him or someone like him instead.
Seattle must have changed me a lot. And apparently, not for the better. Why had I even left La Push to begin with?
And then I remembered.. My mom met another guy and we wound up moving to a military base in Seattle. And we moved around so much that I never really got to spend much time with my grandma because we were too far away to make the trip back and too broke to afford it. So leaving La Push hadn’t ever been my choice.
“Yeah, he seemed like an asshole.” Embry muttered, his gaze settling on his legs. The tension between us was so thick I almost couldn’t breathe. My breath actually caught in my throat for a second or two and desperately, I tried to come up with something to say. Anything.
“I smelled food…” I muttered quietly. Looking down just as he looked up after I’d said it. He chuckled. “I was wondering when you were going to get around to mentioning you’re hungry. Your stomach’s been growling for a while now.”
My cheeks heated up and I bit my lip, nodding. Embry stood and eyed me for a few seconds. “Do you think you can make it?”
“I don’t know..” just the thought of even trying to stand again given my amount of pain had me tensing a little. Quickly and gracefully, Embry grabbed hold of me, scooping me into strong arms. Carrying me down the hallway and into the dining room. He sat me down in a chair and made his way into the kitchen.
He came back out a few minutes later with a plate full of food. I eyed it hungrily and he sat down, taking a sip from a glass of orange juice. I dug into my food and more than a few times, I felt the weight of his stare. At one point, it prompted me to look up and meet his gaze, both of us laughing.
“What?” I asked, swallowing the bite I’d just taken.
“You act like you haven’t eaten in years.” Embry replied, giving me a teasing smirk as he spoke.
“I haven’t eaten anything this tasty.” I replied, wiping at my mouth because I felt syrup on the corner. “Sorry, this is good. So good.” I groaned through another big bite. Promptly almost choking.
With a chuckle, Embry reached over, patting me between the shoulders until I stopped coughing and when our eyes met again, he teased quietly, “Can you stop trying to die on me?”
I gulped. Getting lost in his eyes and almost not managing the nod I gave in response. “Yeah.” I muttered quietly. That tension I felt before only grew thicker. Mostly to ease it and try to keep a conversation going, I took a slice of bacon and held it out to him. “C’mon. Eat a little. I feel bad, sitting here pigging out and you’re not eating.”
He eyed me and took the bacon. Biting into it as he answered, “I ate earlier.” and shrugged it off.
The door to the house opened and my grandmother stepped inside. Dropping everything to rush over and give me a tight hug. I hugged back just as tight. “Ouch yikes.. Grandma…” I muttered. She laughed sheepishly, pulling away. Looking at me and wincing as if she felt my pain.
“At least you’re alive.” she mused. “You can stay here while you heal. I’d rather you stay here while you heal.”
I nodded, happy to agree to it. If I were to go back to Seattle, I didn’t see Greg being much help at all. Besides, I thought to myself, La Push is home. I never wanted to leave to start with.
Embry was silently making his way towards the door and my grandmother stopped him. “Thank you for sticking around today, Embry.”
“It’s not a problem. If you need me, I’m right down the road.” he answered, giving my grandmother a smile. As he said it, we locked eyes all over again. I shuffled my feet. But I didn’t look down or away. I was getting lost in his eyes all over again.
Almost as soon as the door was closed behind him, my grandmother turned her attention to me. Lecturing me about my choice in men. Filling me in on the fact that apparently my ‘lover’ couldn’t be bothered to come and see that I was safe or even alive but damned if he wasn’t calling every ten minutes demanding me to call him back. Irritated because my grandmother apparently told him at one point if he wanted to talk to me so badly, he knew where I could be found. “He’s a bum.”
I sighed and nodded. Dropping my gaze to the glass of orange juice in front of me. “I know. I wish I could remember what the hell made me choose him…”
My grandmother eyed me in concern. After going through a long list of questions, noting the ones I had trouble recalling easily for my follow up with the hospital, she sighed. “At least you remember enough. And you’re still with me. If I lost you that night…” she paused.
I got the feeling that she wasn’t good at emotional things either. But unlike Greg, she did manage to show she cared in her own way.
“But you didn’t. I’m going to be alright.” I reassured her and she nodded. When the phone rang, we shared a look at let it keep ringing.
“If you want to talk to him, Merisa..”
“I think I’d rather focus on myself and healing for a change. Getting my whole memory back. I get the feeling if I talk to him, it’s only going to stress me out.” I admitted after a long pause.
The phone went silent.
My grandma cleared away the dishes and found the crutches that the doctor had given me to use in the aid of getting around. Then she went over all the things the doctor told her about my injuries and the healing process.
“What about my memory?” I asked, curious. Anxious to know what I might be up against. Grateful that I remembered the most basic things about myself that I kind of needed to know.
“The doctor thought you might have some memory loss. I believe he said it would be short term because of the side of your brain the injury occurred in? With a little time and patience you’ll be fine.” my grandmother slipped an arm around me and then added in a more thoughtful tone, “Maybe the parts you don’t remember clearly are a blessing, yeah?”
I eyed her, considering what she said. She might not be entirely wrong…
“Embry’s always been a kind young man. Quiet. Respectful.” my grandmother mused after a few seconds of quiet. I gave a soft laugh and muttered, “Yeah. He seemed like a good guy.”
I won’t bother lying.. I hope I see more of Embry while I’m staying here at my grandmother’s… Something tells me I definitely will...
#embry call#embry call x oc fanfiction#embry call imagine#embry call fanfiction#embry call x oc imagine#embry call imagines#embry call fanfic#embry call x oc fanfic#my writing ; embry call#my fanfiction ; embry call#my oneshots ; embry call#my fics ; embry call#my imagines ; embry call#// amnesia tw#// vague injuries tw#// embry is an adult here fyi.#// pt 1 of 4?5?#// i haven't quite decided yet. i do know i yearn to write fluffy filth for this somehow
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Tales of Woe - Scenes from S1
...things start to get complicated and Jane gets on the guilt train. poor girl, so much suffering to come still :[
1.11
She didn't know what to do with her hands.
Weller and Reade had only been gone a few minutes but Jane's head was already full of what ifs; her hands clenching then unclenching with each terrible possibility her mind came up with Until she finally noticed what she'd been doing and ended up just balling her fingers into fists so tight that it strained her entire torso.
Zapata was working on the primitive sat phone and there wasn't anything that Jane could do on that project. So she was just stuck there, full of anxiety and in action mode but with nowhere to go.
Jane sighed, frustrated with the situation even though she wasn't angry at being left behind. Weller had been right; committing too many of them to the mission wasn't tactically sound. Yet Jane still wanted to be out there with them, watching his back and keeping him safe.
Making sure that he made it back.
A ball of ice sat in her gut, one that had formed when he'd acknowledged the obvious fact that they might be killed while out on the op. Even though there had been risk and near death situations in every tattoo case they'd worked, everything was now coated with a new level of anxiety. Like the scientist had said, she was the reason they were out there. And if Weller never came back, that was all on her.
Jane stared at her hands, her eyes boring into the designs. It seemed impossible that she was responsible for all of the tattoos, and where they were leading the team. But only because she couldn't imagine why anyone would choose to erase their entire life for an elaborate plot, especially if she'd had a fiancé.
Her jaw was so taut, it felt like her teeth were held together by a vise. Jane realized she was giving herself a headache being so incredibly tight but couldn't seem to relax her muscles even after becoming conscious of the issue. Her entire body and mind were fixated on one thing only - she had to get the team out of there safely. After that, she could find out more information on the plot she was seemingly involved in and hopefully come up with a way to stop it all before anyone got hurt.
Jane groaned to herself, closing her eyes for a moment to try and push aside the pain in her head. She was so anxious about what was happening with Weller and Reade that she felt nauseous, even a little light-headed.
"Hey Jane, you with me?"
Her eyes snapped open at Zapata's question and she was disoriented for a second before finally noticing Tasha giving her a concerned look from down on the ground.
"Yeah, sorry," Jane mumbled. "How's the phone coming?"
"Almost done," Zapata replied, still eyeing Jane studiously.
"Relax okay? You look like you're about to have an aneurysm. He's going to be fine."
Jane wanted to believe that and had been doing her best to talk herself down, but obviously it hadn't been enough. Even with Tasha's optimism, it was impossible to avoid the fear clinging onto the back of her throat. Especially when Reade and Mike came bursting in, with the cattle prod but without Weller.
Jane leapt into action, fuelled by all the anxious energy that she'd just built up. She didn't know exactly what she was going to do, but she wasn't going to leave Kurt alone out there with the enemy.
But what if he was already…
"He got captured? Is he…?"
There wasn't a single thought in her mind other than his safety. Not one consideration to the armed terrorists who'd just caught him, or the fact that they'd be on extra high alert now. She needed to get out there and do whatever she could; sacrifice herself if necessary.
"I don't know," Reade replied, not helping her anxiety at all.
"I'll go after him," she said, already stepping towards the clandestine exit when Reade grabbed her by the shoulders.
"Hey, hold on," he said.
"Hold on, he's buying us some time, okay? Let's use it."
All of her worry screamed that she should be out there with him, nearly drowning out Reade's words. Again, the voice of reason wasn't at all what she wanted to hear at the moment. But Reade was right, of course. Kurt was out there, doing what needed to be done; risking himself for the mission, as he always did.
Images of Weller flashed through her mind. Staying behind with the deadly contagion, refusing to let them stay with him. Walking out alone and unarmed in front of the hostage takers at the CIA black site. Going out to face the danger at the hospital, to buy her time with Casey. Shutting her out of that house when the flashbomb went off.
All of those times he'd put himself in danger; that was all because of her. It should be her in that position, not him. But there was no way to explain that, at least not with what she currently knew.
When the terrorists came back and ordered the team to go with them, Jane was almost relieved, despite the roughness with which her wrists were zip-tied. At least something was happening, and they'd find out what had happened to Weller.
As they were led to another building, Jane felt dread worrying at the pit of her stomach, almost making her feel nauseous. Images of Kurt flooded her head once more but this time she pictured him dead already, shot in the back while running or executed after being caught. If they got to their destination and Weller's body was thrown in front of them, she wasn't sure what she was going to do. But it was sure to be drastic and violent, to the extreme.
When they were brought to the room and saw him tied to the chair in front of the video camera, her gut finally stopped making her feel sick. If Weller was still alive then they had a chance, and she was definitely not going to waste it.
Kurt was mouthing off to the terrorists, refusing to read the statement they'd written. She knew he'd never give them that satisfaction, so she needed to come up with a solution before they killed him for non-compliance.
Thankfully, her zip cuffs were starting to loosen as Jane stretched them out. She was going to be free shortly. And she wasn't going to let any of them get hurt.
###
She was sitting alone, seemingly lost in thought while staring out the window of the plane.
Weller watched from the other side of the aisle, wondering what was on her mind. There had been something off about her since the previous day – even Reade had noticed and mentioned it. And even though he couldn't quite define what was different about her, he could tell she'd been extra tense throughout the mission, more emotional than usual too.
Of course, they had just almost died, in another airplane. Or more accurately, he'd nearly killed them both in a moment of desperation. And then they'd come close to falling out of the sky; barely avoided plummeting straight into the ground. But, like usual, she'd ended up saving them, landing the jet safely with a lot of assistance from Patterson.
By any rights, they should be dead. It was possible Jane was just stuck on that, how close it had been. But he didn't think so. There had been a couple of times through the past two days when he’d thought she was trying to tell him something before the situation got in the way. And she was wearing the same sort of expression now.
For a brief moment Weller wondered if she was thinking about what happened on his doorstep the night before they went on the mission. But he figured that was just his ego talking. Whatever Jane was mulling seemed to run really deep, as if it was eating at her core.
Kurt hated how worried she looked, despite having just saved the day. He wished that she would just tell him what was bothering her, instead of stewing about it on her own. But he had the sense that if he confronted her about his concerns directly, she would bury everything deep and pretend to be fine.
Still, he couldn't just sit there, and watch her struggle by herself.
Weller got up and crossed the aisle, taking the seat next to her. The movement finally snapped Jane out of her reverie and she turned her head to look at him, her expression clearly troubled. He noticed that her nose was bleeding again and eyed it in concern. But Jane just wiped away the blood without saying anything and started to turn back towards the window.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
Not that Weller thought he would get a straight answer, but he needed to engage her somehow. He sensed she was trying to pull away for some reason, and he desperately hoped it wasn't because they'd kissed. He didn't really think so, yet the timing was awfully suspect.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Jane replied, too quickly.
"It's just the dry air."
But he'd never noticed her get nosebleeds before on plane rides. Which could mean nothing at all, just him seeing signs that weren't really there. Yet Jane seemed so guarded and troubled, despite the tough veneer she was wearing.
He could just let it go. With anyone else he wouldn't even have approached. But with Jane, he needed to try.
"Not just that," he said. "You seem… on edge."
"Is there something going on?"
Jane bit down on her lip as she lifted her eyes up to meet his. He could see a mix of emotions in the golden green of her irises and, for just a second, she almost slipped. Her lips parted, as if she were going to say something, but then the colour of her eyes darkened and her mouth zipped shut once more.
Weller watched as Jane glanced out the window again, collecting and securing all her nearly-escaped words. Then, when her emotional shield was finally back in place, she turned to face him again, obviously doing her best to offer him a reassuring smile.
"I'm okay," she muttered. "Don't worry about me."
Don't worry about her?
How could he not?
She was his to worry about - she always had been.
"Jane."
She dropped her eyes to her lap again, seemingly unable to withstand the demand in his expression. He could feel her trying to slip away emotionally, drift back out the window with her faraway thoughts.
Weller reached over with his hand and found hers clenched in her lap. Silently, he unwrapped her grip until he could wriggle his fingers in between hers. Then, once their fingers were interlaced, he squeezed tight, so their hands were balled together into one big fist.
That earned him an upward glance, and a small smile.
"Really. I'm fine," she said.
"I'm just so glad we all made it out of there."
Again, there was that inflection to her words, one Weller couldn't quite read. But obviously she wasn't going to talk to him about whatever it was, so he would have to make do with what she'd give him.
"Yeah. It's a good thing you came on the mission after all."
Jane flashed him another grin, but that edge was still there.
So he decided not to push it, knowing that they already had a different, possibly difficult, conversation looming, Instead, Weller just gave her hand another solid squeeze, physically reminding her that he was there for her. And, even though Jane eventually went back to looking out the window, at least their fingers stayed curled together until the plane was back on the ground.
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Hallucinating Thunderstorms
A small little story based off ideas me and the homie ( @kryptariium ) came up with last night. I may elaborate on it, but for now I present this.
This was one of the toughest villains the ninja had fought. The team was separated by this fiend, Jay was worried. Being away from his team without knowing how they were had him in a constant state of fear.
Trapped in a dark room, the ninja would create a simple light with the crackle of his powers. But the moment he did, he was greeted by a loathsome grin, causing him to jump back.
“W - Who are you ?! What do you want from my friends ? “ Spat the blue clad ninja, nunchucks at the ready.
An evil laugh would sound before the person vanished. “Your worst nightmare.” And like that a snap.
Jay was . . . at the monastery? But wasn’t he just…maybe it was all a dream.
Thunder boomed around him, lightning crashing sparratically. The sounds causing him to jump a bit in fear, but he would take a deep breath trying to calm himself and the storm, with little to no luck.
No no no. This couldn’t be.
The element that he became so familiar with, wasn’t responding. One of his worst fears was coming true; losing control.
Heart began to race, he was scared, where was everyone? They had to help him, he didn’t want to hurt anyone. Lightning was his kin, if it hurt someone, he felt the blame was on him as well.
Running through their home he would call for everyone, tears brimming his eyes as the storm raged on outside.
The training area, where everyone would gather after a battle. Unfortunately, this wasn’t a sight that Jay was use to.
His team, his family, lay sprawled out on the floor, gis were burnt to a crisp.
No.
This wasn’t his doing was it? Maybe there was a foe he missed? Jay would never hurt his family like this.
“ G-Guys!—“
His voice cracked as he would dash down to check on them. One by one, each ninja was barely hanging on, wounds deeper than the ninja of lighting would have imagined. At this point, tears flowed from his eyes like and endless waterfall.
“Look what you did , Jay . You killed us all .”
“ Why couldn ‘ t you control your powers ? “
“ You are so weak . Pathetic . “
“ You should be the one dying. “
Whispers that reminiscent those of his teammates would fill his head.
The harshness would bring him to his knees next to his best friend, Cole. His best friend never said things like that, Cole was his comfort honestly. Someone he would confide in when any issue arose.
“ You know they’d still be here if you didn’t fuck this up. Zaptrap.
THIS . IS . YOUR . FAULT . “
A gasp for air came from the Walker boy as he heard his best friend spit those awful words upon him.
Hands would find their way into his hair, grabbing at the strands and pulling them for any sort of relief. Jay found himself in a ball, sobs leaving hsu quivering lips.
This wasn’t his fault. He didn’t kill his friends.
The lightning storm that was responsible would rage on, progressively getting worse as every drip of emotion was ripped from his being.
“ G-Guys I didn’t do it. I would never. I-I-I tried to control it, th-the lightning wouldn’t listen!” There he was, yelling at the corpses that surrounded him.
“I didn’t kill you guys. I did my best. I-I- I tried to save you! Stop it!!” The voices that spat those awful words only continued their onslaught. This left Jay in shambles as he hugged himself, letting the emotions flow, finding solace in the crackles of lightning that surrounded him.
“JAY. JAY SNAP OUT OF IT!” A voice would slice through the emotions. It was Cole. He was shaking Jay about.
Opening bloodshot eyes, brown and blue would be able to see his friends, alive and well. Not burnt to a crisp, beat up, but alive.
Almost instantly he would scoot away in a panic, he didn’t want to hurt them again.
“B-But you were just— I k-killed y—“ the stammering man would soon be silenced by Nya who approached and laid a finger on his lips.
“We are okay, Jay. We’ll explain everything on the Bounty, now let’s go!” The water ninja would offer her hand.
Jay was hesitant, fearing that his powers would hurt her. So he declined, standing on his own.
With Jay up, this was their chance to escape. The 6 ninja would run, shoes patting against the tile floor as they escaped the headquarters of their foe.
Getting onto the Bounty was like hell for Jay, every step he feared a lightning storm would begin and he would lose sight of his powers.
He refused to touch or even be touched by his fellow ninja. Even with wounds on his hands, Jay insisted that he take care of himself. So he did, patching up the scratches he inflicted onto his arms.
It was how he coped. Scratching at his skin is what he did minutes prior to the real ninja coming to his rescue.
That experience was vividly replaying in the young ninja’s head. Their harsh words scarred him, never seeming to cease.
Jay locked himself in his room, no one needed to be around him. He didn’t want to hurt them again.
“Jay…Open up dude. It’s okay.” Kai would knock at the door, jiggling the knob ever so slightly.
“No! I don’t want to hurt you guys again.” Broken words left quivering lips.
“Dammit Jay! Open the door!” A frustrated Kai would hiss. He wasn’t angry at Jay, more so angry at the fact that this villian scarred him in such a way.
But to Jay, he heard anger. The same anger that cursed at him for slaying his friends in the intense storm.
Begrudgingly, Jay would approach the door, unlocking it and making his way back to the bed.
Kai would enter, seeing one of his closest friends in shambles. Ever since that day, he hadn’t seen Jay leave his room.
“Jay…It’s over. You know it wasn’t real right? We are fine, look at me. There’s no storm, you can use your powers again.” The fire ninja spoke confidently, brown eyes looking to the clear skies outside of Bounty.
“It’s not that easy, Kai. When you can smell and see what your friends look like when you lose control…It makes you never want to use your elemental powers again.
You guys DIED and it was MY FAULT. Cole even said so!”
#lego ninjago#ninjago#ninjago jay#jay walker#kai smith#kai ninjago#hana's writings#this is a mess#but i had fun!!#i listened to ship in a bottle#and yeah it hyped me up#anyways this is for you guys who want jay in his bag#have fun xoxo
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Ohh, what is moon lovers about?
Hi, thank you for the ask, anon!
The Moon Lovers AU is loosely based on the TV series Moon Lovers: Scarlet Heart Ryeo.
It was the worst day in Brienne’s life. People she trusted set her up for public humiliation. She was convinced that nothing could make her life worse. But then, she got involved in a strange accident at the lake which coincided with the full solar eclipse. After Brienne waked up, she discovered that she was transported back over a thousand years ago to the Westeros, ruled by the greatest king of all times, Goldenhand the Just.
She was excited to meet him but when she did, she had to confront everything she knew about him as a historical figure with the real man he was in his time.
And here is a short fragment I’ve already written:
Something was very, very wrong. It wasn’t the world she knew. This father wasn’t the one she recognized.
“I’m sorry,” she said carefully, deciding it would be wiser to just listen to him. As strict as he sounded, Brienne was certain that he didn’t mean any harm to her. And maybe if she listened, she could better understand where exactly did she find herself. “I’m afraid I do not quite feel like myself.”
“I can see that. Do you remember anything?”
Brienne did actually remember everything until the accident at the lake which this version of her father claimed to happen fourteen years ago. She shook her head, deciding it would be a safer choice than to force her version of events. She didn’t want to appear crazier than she already did.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“I already told you it’s your chamber.”
“Yes, but I meant more general location.”
“We are at Evenfall Hall.”
“The museum? How did you arran—”
Brienne didn’t finish because of the incredulous expression of father’s face. “I mean, yes, of course, it is. But we don’t live here, right?”
“Brienne, I am the Evenstar and you are my daughter and heir. Where else are we supposed to live?”
Father has gone crazy. Or it was her. Judging by the surroundings it must have been her.
The further conversation was interrupted by the entrance of elderly looking man wearing a strange brown robe with a thick chain composed of rings of different colours which clanked with his every step. Fortunately, the woman didn’t return with him.
“My lord, septa Roelle has informed me that lady Brienne is now awakened but…”
Instead of finishing, he threw Brienne an assessing look.
“It seems that the accident might have had some…” Father was clearly struggling with choosing the right words. “…strange effects.”
“What do you mean by this, my lord? From what can I see the lady seems to be quite well.”
Because I am, Brienne thought. Physically she was good. Yes, her body felt slightly different than usual but Brienne was convinced it was just the effect of her prolonged diving. What troubled her most was the question of where she was and how did she end up in this place. And how to go back.
“She is not quite herself.” Brienne heard her father saying.
“It is normal to be in a state of shock after such extreme experience.”
“Could it involve memory loss?”
“I haven’t heard of that but if she stayed under the water for a long time, then yes, it might have happened.”
“But it is not a permanent effect?”
“I can’t tell anything before I check out my patient. If you allow, my lord, I would appreciate it if you left the chamber.”
“Of course,” father said, leaving Brienne alone with the man.
Without a hurry, he stepped toward her bed.
“My lady,” he said calmly, sitting on a chair that someone brought to her bed. “Let’s start from the basic question. Do you know who you are? What is your name?”
“Of course, I know. I’m Brienne Tarth.”
“Excellent, my lady. But could you tell me, where are we?”
Brienne hesitated. Father said they were at Evenfall Hall and she could just go on with that even if she didn’t necessarily recognize the place or even believed it was true.
“I can’t. I don’t know this place,” Brienne said, deciding against the lie.
“I see,” the man nodded, his long white beard grazed the rough material of his brown robe. “But you recognize your father, is it right, my lady?”
“Yes,” Brienne simply answered, refusing to elaborate on the differences between her dad and the man who could pass as his identical twin.
“Do you know who am I?” came the next question.
Brienne looked again in the man’s face. It was old and covered with wrinkles and stains so characteristic for older people. Everything about him seemed to be old and fragile except for eyes, which were bright and astute, making Brienne feel that he could see right through her.
“I’m sorry but I don’t. I guess you must be a doctor of some sort.”
“I am not sure what you mean, my lady, but I am maester Volden of the Citadel. I have been serving at Evenfall Hall for nearly twenty years.”
Brienne found herself nodding at this information, not sure how she should respond.
“Do you remember what did you do today and yesterday and the day before that?”
She did. But when she tried to question father about that she only earned a look of confusion and denial. Brienne shook her head.
“Interesting,” maester Volden murmured to himself. “Now, I would like to examine you, my lady.”
Brienne nodded and maester stood from his chair. Before Brienne could blink, he started his assessment, checking her pulse, her eyes, asking her to inhale and exhale on his command, and other things Brienne knew from medical shows that doctors tend to do. Particular attention he paid to her head, touching and watching it closely from every possible angle.
“Do you remember any kind of head injury you could receive? It didn’t necessarily have to happen during or after your fall from the cliff.”
“I didn’t fa…” I didn’t fall from the cliff, I was rescuing Gal, Brienne wanted to say but stopped herself before the words left her mouth. “I didn’t have any head injuries.”
That wasn’t strictly the truth. During the years of fighting training, Brienne got punched multiple times, including her face but she was more than sure that she was fine.
The maester nodded, however, the expression on his face indicated that he didn’t quite believe her words.
“Are you sure, lady Brienne? Nothing during your sword training?”
“No.” I have never held a sword in my life.
“As you say, my lady. Physically everything seems to be alright, I can’t see anything out of order. Except for your memory. There is nothing I can do for you now but you need a lot of rest and as few stresses as possible. Let’s just hope your memories return to you soon,” he said moving to the door.
“Ehm… maester Volden,” Brienne called him, not quite sure how she should address him.
“Yes, my lady?”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
Brienne took a deep breath. It was her chance to get some clues about what was going on. If she asked the right questions…
“Where is Galladon?” Brienne started with the most important one. Despite what her father said, she couldn’t accept that. Maybe father got something wrong, maybe he was mistaken and Gal lived. Maybe… Brienne looked expectantly at the maester but the serious expression on his face killed the last tiny shreds of hope she possessed.
“He died when you were a child, my lady.”
No, Brienne wanted to scream. No, Gal was alive. They grew up together, they played together, they shared secrets, they comforted each other. She didn’t know the world without her older brother. She didn’t want to accept any world where Gal was not there.
“How about mum, Ari and Alys?”
“They died years ago.”
Brienne blinked trying to prevent new tears threatening to fall. What kind of world it was where almost all her family was dead? It was worse than any hell she could end up after dying. But Brienne was sure she lived. The intuition, the strange unfathomable feeling inside her was telling her that she was still alive. Her heart was steadily beating under her ribs and her body greedily demanded breath after breath.
“Where am I, maester?” Brienne asked in a shaking voice.
“We are on Tarth, my lady. Your homeland.”
Brienne nodded. “What year do we have?”
“It is 297 After Conquest.”
Brienne froze. No, it was impossible. She couldn’t move back over a thousand years ago. If she was told she spent decades in a coma and awaken after some sort of nuclear apocalypse, Brienne would believe that easier than the fact that she somehow traveled so long ago.
“Lady Brienne, are you well? You became pale all of a sudden.”
“I’m fine,” she replied, trying to appear unaffected by the unexpected information. “Could I ask you to tell everyone that I would like to be left alone? I think I need some rest.”
“Yes, of course, my lady,” maester Volden replied, bowing slightly.
Only when the door closed after him and Brienne was finally left alone, she let the grief and distress take over her.
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Another chapter, and next one people will arrive, but for now it’s more of the bots
special people tag list: @petrichormeraki and @helleborusangel
Grum was sleeping when it happened.
Itsfundy was shot by skeleton.
Grumbot immediately turned on, but he wasn’t immediately awake. Programs started working and calculating.
Life Counter active. Entity Check Itsfundy. Death: non canon. Commence respawn.
Error.
Blacklist check. Attempting Entry: Itsfundy. Assigned roles: Family Member, Cousin, DSMP Member. Banned roles: Family Member, Cousin. Continue blacklist.
Blacklist check activated. Increase displacement by .5%. Displacing. Displacement complete. Displacement at 43.5% total.
Entity is entering from location: respawn. Retargeting to default world. Default world: DSMP.
Blacklist check. Attempting Entry: Itsfundy. Assigned roles: Family Member, Cousin, DSMP Member. Banned roles: Family Member, Cousin. Continue blacklist.
Blacklist check activated. Increase displacement by .5%. Displacing. Displacement complete. Displacement at 44% total.
Entity is entering from location: respawn. Retargeting to default world. Default world: DSMP.
Blacklist check. Attempting Entry: Itsfundy. Assigned roles: Family Member, Cousin, DSMP Member. Banned roles: Family Member, Cousin. Continue blacklist.
Blacklist check activated. Increase displacement by .5%. Displacing. Displacement complete. Displacement at 44.5% total.
Entity is entering from location: respawn. Retargeting to default world. Default world: DSMP.
Blacklist check. Attempting Entry: Itsfundy. Assigned roles: Family Member, Cousin, DSMP Member. Banned roles: Family Member, Cousin. Continue blacklist.
Blacklist check activated. Repeat offender. Increase displacement by 1%. Displacing. Displacement complete. Displacement at 45.5% total.
Entity is entering from location: respawn. Retargeting to default world. Default world: DSMP.
By this point, Grum was awake, and everything hurt. He didn’t know what was going on. Just about everything was being used for processing, so he didn’t even have the available memory to tell what was happening. An attempt to open his task manager just left the program not responding. With little else to do, Grum just started crying.
It was agony. No one was visiting anytime soon, and there was no way this feedback loop was ending on its own. It also didn’t help that Grum was currently connected to the charger, so it wasn’t like he would run out of battery soon.
Grum was vaguely aware of a percentage ticking up. The rate was speeding up over time and he was waiting for it to hit 100%. Maybe that would stop things. The percentage doubled every three total score increases, so Grum was sure that it would get past 16% at once.
The total went up. 73.5, 81.5, 89.5. Grum kept watching, ready to hit 100%. And it did and didn’t at the same time. 105.5%. That was more than 100, but maybe it would stop there? But it didn’t. It kept going further. In a moment of panic, Grum was able to gain just enough control to yank his cord out. He was losing power now, but it kept going up and up and up. He was still crying. It hurt so much. At the very least crying also used up battery, but Grum wished he didn’t have to. He just wanted to stop hurting.
He mostly stopped watching the percentage. At the very least the percentage added each time stopped at a max of 64, but it kept adding on.
Finally, Grum felt it all stop. The program stopped functioning due to extreme low power and he got a moment of relief. He glanced at the final total. 873.5%. Grum didn’t want to know how much further it could have gone. He also didn’t know what it was for, but that was okay. Right now he just. Wanted. To sleep.
Dream was upset. Everyone was freaking out and now he needed to deal with it. Fundy had been shot by a skeleton and died. Something like that was normal. What wasn’t normal, however, were the following 31 pairs of messages sent to everyone of Fundy leaving and then joining the world.
Chat had been filled with questions during it all happening, everyone seemingly holing themselves up wherever they were, scared that if they died, they would be in the same situation.
Finally it stopped, and a message from Fundy came in.
<Itsfundy> he was almost dead too.
Immediately, chat was filled with questions for Fundy as well as Dream. And the worst part was neither of them knew what was going on. But hopefully they would soon.
Dream sent a message to Fundy. Another offer. He could make up what he did before by coming with Dream to investigate the problem. At first, he refused, but then Dream gave the hybrid a little reminder on where exactly the problem may lie, and that seemed to get through to him.
Dream frowned ever so slightly behind his mask when Fundy’s final reply came in. This Iskall person had worked well before. It was someone Fundy had communicated with before. These robots, on the other hand, were new and unfamiliar. There was no reason for the hybrid to prioritize them over the communication to his ‘friend’.
Dream then closed the chat log with Fundy and swapped over to the one he had for the first robot. There was only one message in there. A video file. He played it and watched the recording. It started with the second robot introducing itself to Fundy, but then it immediately turned to static, Dream not able to see or hear what had been going on. When it came back, the two of them were discussing Fundy’s friend and he gave the robot the special comm for a moment. Dream laughed as the robot suggested that Fundy leave the SMP with him. It was just so outrageous of a thought every time. A little during that suggestion and more before it, there was more static. And then Fundy started to turn to the camera and the recording ended.
Dream wasn’t sure what the connection was, but it seemed like there had to be some connection between this video and what just happened. Both involved the robot and Fundy and some sort of error. And seeing as how Fundy would know what exactly had been blocked by static, he would be able to give Dream some… insight into the situation.
It didn’t take long for the admin to arrive at what the robot had built for shelter. Inside it was laying on a bed and turned off. The cord that let it charge was unplugged, so likely everything had stopped due to a low battery. Dream walked over and plugged the robot back in, surprised to see it was still sitting at 21% battery.
Before he could try to figure out why that was, the door opened behind him. Dream turned and was glad to see it was Fundy and not the other robot. “I expected you to take longer.”
Fundy responded with some weak panting, letting the admin know he had run most of the way there. “Well, I’m here now. What exactly do you need?”
“You died and then proceeded to be continually disconnected and reconnected to the world.”
“Yeah, that’s what everyone was saying. What does it have to do with him?” Fundy gestured to Grum.
“Well, a while earlier, you were talking with the other robot. You talked about that offworld friend of yours and it offered to take you to it’s old world.”
Fundy winced, remembering that Dream had somehow been spying on them. “Yeah, still not making the connection.”
“There was a third thing you talked about. What was it?”
That made Fundy pause. Dream didn’t know what else they had talked about, possibly he arrived later and heard the tail end of the conversation, but somehow that seemed unlikely. “We… just talked about the stuff relating to Iskall.”
“Oh I don’t think you did. I think you talked about something else. I suppose I could see if taking apart the robot will give me any answers… but-”
“No leave him alone!” Fundy said so protectively, it even surprised himself.
“See, what’s what I’m after. Why do you care so much about it?” Fundy didn’t respond. He tried to stay calm and look calm, but his instincts made that hard, causing his fur to puff up. “Well? What are you hiding?”
Fundy still didn’t respond, and after a few seconds, Dream tried moving towards Grum again. “Okay okay fine! Apparently he and his brother are my cousins!”
Dream froze completely. They were what?! That made no sense. Fundy’s dad? Dead. Fundy’s uncles? They had been living here. Well Tommy had gone missing, but him making something like this? Impossible. For a moment Dream contemplated the other side of Fundy’s family, but he felt that was unlikely.
“Do you want to elaborate on your own? Or do you want me to find out my way?”
Again, Fundy hesitated, but another threat got him talking. “One of their dads is my uncle apparently. Apparently my dad had another sibling.”
That was interesting. Phil had had another child? It never came up when looking into the hardcore player, but with how long he had been alive, it wasn’t impossible.
But then Dream frowned. That had been the issue. The blacklist had been set up so that one one in this robot’s supposed family or previous world could come looking for them. If it considered Fundy family, that would lead to what just happened. It was attempting to block Fundy from entering, but since the hybrid was only living there and had only been living there, it got stuck.
This also explained why the other missing people hadn’t returned. The three of them likely also had the same issue. At least with Tubbo, it was easy enough to say he had lost his last life, but while the other two had been living alone, far away from the rest of everything, it was only a matter of time before their absence was noticed. And there was no easy way to explain them being gone for good.
“Well then, I think that helps explain the problem. We’re just going to adjust some files and make sure it ignores you as a family member.”
“And the others?”
Dream tilted his head slightly. “What others? Techno and Phil? They’re not going to have any issues with respawning in the first place.”
“No. I mean Tommy.”
“Tommy’s dead. He’s been dead.”
“I’m pretty sure you know that isn’t true.”
Dream frowned. How could Fundy have any idea that Tommy wasn’t really dead. No one could have known. No one was around to see and he had disabled most of Tommy’s messages. And when he learned about the teen’s disappearance, he created a message that looked like a death message, fooling everyone.
“I know you saw the death message. Everyone did. Tommy is dead.”
“You are currently using this kid to fuck with the world! Who says you couldn’t fake that too?!”
“That’s not how it works.”
“And what proof do you have of that?”
“Tommy is gone. He’s not on any list for this world. His lives are at zero. You can go over to where he was exiled and see the tower he built to jump off of.”
Fundy wanted to yell back, but it was obvious they would just go in circles. “You know what. Fine. I’ll mess with the files, but I’m also letting Tommy in. If he’s really dead, it won’t be an issue, right?”
The hybrid couldn’t help but smile just a little when Dream couldn’t refuse it. He then started messing with Grum, trying to do as little to the bot’s files as possible. Fortunately getting to the blacklist files was easy enough. He saw the short list of roles that were being blocked, and Fundy attempted to open the ‘Family Member’ list to edit it. But he couldn’t, the file being password protected. “Dream, what’s the password?”
“There isn’t one. I didn’t give it any.”
Fundy raised a brow. “Look Dream, I can’t do what you want if I don’t know the password. If you’re really serious about me not knowing, I can leave the room for you to-”
“I. Did not. Use any password.” Dream spoke again, speaking the words out slowly. “There shouldn’t be one.”
Fundy looked back at Grum. Dream had known about the talk he had with Jrum that mentioned Iskall, but he didn’t hear anything about the relation to the bots. When he first got Fundy’s help, they had trouble accessing some files that were supposed to be information on Grum himself. Now they were trying to open a file with a list of the kid’s family and it was being blocked. Fundy was sure that the blacklist was supposed to keep people from coming in and rescuing the two brothers, but now Grum was using it to try and keep his family safe.
“Well, I guess since we can’t edit that, we’ll just have to make exceptions.” The fox hybrid said before making a new category and list, putting his name on the list.
“Not putting Tommy’s?” Dream asked, and Fundy nodded. If Grum was trying to keep people out, he wasn’t going to change it. Sure the hybrid wanted to put other names on the list, but that would need to be done when Dream wasn’t breathing down his neck.
“Nah, you’re right. No way for him to come back, so why bother.”
The hesitation from Dream made Fundy worry the admin was onto him, but then he left and Fundy was able to slump to the ground with a sigh. “Ugh, when did family become this much of a chore?”
Jrum happily kicked his legs as he sat at the table in Bad’s house. The demon served the bot a bowl of redstone which Jrum happily started eating. “Thank you very much!”
“Oh, it’s no problem. I have plenty strewn about in my chests and don’t use it much, so I’m glad someone can use it.”
“Yeah! And I’ve already finished gathering up everything I need for my charger! Now all I need is to figure out where I’m going to build everything.”
“Well, I know it’s not much space, but I’m sure we could fit you in nearby if you connect up to this place.” Bad suggested, making Jrum pause.
“What do you mean? Isn’t this your house?”
“Well it is,” Bad started. “But you saw the plants covering the place. Those are connected to the egg in the cave you found. It really likes this place and you definitely seem to like it just as much as me and Ant. What better place to stay than right here?”
Jrum thought about it. It did seem like a nice place. And He doubted Bad would be the kind of person to get upset at any sprouts he tried to grow. And… he was really nice… and kind… and was helping him. Sure, Jrum wanted to prove he could do things on his own, but he didn’t want to be completely alone. “You’d really let me?”
“Of course!”
“Then… yeah! I’d like that! Where should I connect to? What’s the best place for my charger?”
“Here, once you’re done eating, I can show you where you can start.”
Jrum nodded and then began to shovel the redstone from his bowl, eating it as fast as he could. The moment the bowl was empty, he was up out of his chair and ready to go looking with Bad. They found an area which Jrum could use, but they needed to move a few vines.
The two of them started carefully pushing the vines around, just making a large enough area for Jrum to start building in. There were a few times Bad tried to help the little robot, but being a robot, Jrum was much stronger than he looked and didn’t have much trouble.
But then Jrum got to a particularly large part of the vines and tried to move it a bit, lifting it up so it wouldn’t get caught. He almost got it to where he wanted when his center of balance was shifted too far and he tripped, falling to the ground with the large vine pinning him there. Jrum struggled a bit, but couldn’t move much and also wasn’t at an angle to easily pick it up again.
“H-Help! Daddy, I’m stuck!” Jrum cried out on instinct. He had often gotten stuck when they were doing a redstone project together, Jrum fitting where most people couldn’t, and then overestimating how small a space he could fit into and getting pinned.
Jrum wriggled a bit more before the vine was moved off his back and he was picked up. “Thank you.” Jrum automatically said, then realized what he had shouted before. “Oh… I-I’m sorry for… before.”
“What do you mean?” The demon asked. “You were doing well before, I just didn’t realize how strong you were.”
“N-No. I mean… I… said the wrong name.”
Bad paused. “Huh, I guess you did. Eh, it’s fine. Honestly I sort of miss hearing that instead of just Dadboyhalo.”
Jrum giggled. “Who calls you that?”
“I have a kid named Sapnap. I’m not sure if you’ve met him, but he’s somewhere on this world.”
Jrum shook his head. “No, so far I’ve met uhhhhh… You and Ghostbur and Puffy and Dream and Mister Sam and Fundy and uhhhhh I think that’s it. Oh no wait! I also met Michael and his dad Boo!��
“Oh, I’ve heard about Michael. I know technically you’re a robot, and robots don’t age, but you seem young enough the two of you could be friends.”
“Yeah, he seemed really nice. Though his… parent? Boo seems protective of him.”
“Yeah, well after what happened to his friends I can see why.”
That concerned Jrum. “Oh no! What happened?”
“Well, both of them lost their last lives. They’ve both been on one for a while, and with how reckless they can be, it’s a little-”
“What do you mean, last lives?” Jrum tilted his head.
“Well, you know when something important causes you to die, it takes one of your three lives?”
“No. How does that work?”
“Huh… well I think we might want to wait on that conversation until we’ve built what you need, because that could lead to a long conversation.”
Jrum was a little upset he couldn’t know now, but he saw the reasoning. His charger was much more important right now. “Okay, later works!”
#hermit!tommy au#hermit!tommy#grumbot#itsfundy#dreamwastaken#still not a fan of how dream's persona eminates someone... problematic#jrumbot#badboyhalo#the blood vines
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Stuck in Love (Harry styles x Reader)
A/N: I have literally no idea how cars work, so if I got anything wrong, I apologise.
Summary: Harry and you get stuck in your car during a snow storm. Things happen.
"I am going to die, and I am going to die with an absolute idiot", you cried, almost meaning it.
"Heyyy, don’t let that be the last thing you ever say about me", Harry grumbled, lightly hitting you in the shoulder.
You turned away from him and faced the window. "Shut up”; you then started whispering a little prayer. Despite your banter, you were actually quite worried about your life.
Harry realising your condition, turned silent and instead started playing around with the steering wheel to keep himself occupied.
You busied your mind, thinking about every idiotic mistake you had made that led up to this very moment.
When you looked out your window, it was snowing quite bad and you realised you might not be able to go out later to get groceries and other necessities that you were running out of. You got your car keys, made sure to lock up your house and left in your car.
First mistake
When you reached your nearest superstore, you found that all the stores in your area were closed. You didn't register the seriousness of the situation.
You then drove around town, looking for any stores that might be open; you really needed the items. But found yourself unsuccessful.
Your phone pinged, bringing your attention to the little device. It was your best friend texting you 'Hey, what's up?', you pulled your car over and called him as soon as an idea came to your mind.
"H, I need your help", you said as soon as he picked up.
Second mistake
"Thank you so much H, I owe you one," You said to Harry as you put the supplies in your car's trunk, Harry behind you bringing the rest from inside his house.
"A friend in need is a friend indeed, I believe is the quote", Harry puts the remaining supplies in the trunk as well, "Besides, without these" - gesturing towards the trunk - "You would be fucked".
You raised your eyebrows, amused, "I know, that's why I said thank you”.
You got into your car, about to drive off when you realised that Harry was getting into the passenger's seat, "What do you think you're doing?”
"The weather is horrible, I don't think you should be driving home alone”, Harry said casually, fastening his seatbelt.
"And how are you supposed to get back?" You folded your arms across your chest and waited for his response.
"Will come back tomorrow, don' worry love", Your heart thumped a little louder with the nickname. You just sighed and started the car.
Third mistake
The snow fall had increased quite significantly, making it difficult for you to navigate the road.
It wasn't long before your car started slowing down and suddenly just stopped. Confused, you turned the keys a couple times but the car didn't start.
You got out of the vehicle, the cold wind instantly hitting you, and lifted up the hood of your car to assess the problem.
“Wha’ happened?” Harrys asked as he stuck his head out the window, squinting his eyes as he waited for your answer.
“I think the low temperature has caused the engine oil to become thicker”, you said with not much surety in your voice.
“So, wha’ do we do?”, you just shrugged and asked him to move to the driver’s seat and turn everything off, then start the ignition again. Harry did what you asked but your car still didn’t comply.
Dejected, you went back and sat in the passenger’s seat before turning to Harry, “I am out of ideas. The car won’t start, I don’t know anything more to help and the snow fall just keeps on increasing by the minute”.
“We can call for a tow truck” Harry suggested and looked for his phone, he realised moments after that he left his phone back at his place, looking sheepishly at you he asked if he could use your phone instead.
You passed your phone to him with a sigh. A thousand thoughts running through your head as you briefly heard Harry calling the tow company.
“But…Sir this is an emergency…I understand, but we are stuck…”
Your attention turned back to Harry as you heard him let out a groan of frustration. “They can’t come till morning, said the roads are all blocked with snow. Even asked us to stay put in our car, idiots.”
“Maybe we can walk back to your place, it can’t be that far from here” you suggested weakly before shaking your head and laying back down on your seat. The snow fall was too heavy for anyone to walk down the street and even make it out alive.
You were really frustrated, the whole night had been one bad event after the other.
The one thing that made this whole ordeal fractionally better was sitting next to you. You turned your head to face him. Harry had his eyes closed and for one moment you could only admire him. He had really long eyelashes, you never noticed that before.
You felt a smile creep up to your face, you almost forgot about the snow filling up around your car. You wanted to reach out your hand and caress his face, but you refrained. You were his best friend, not a creep.
“Do ya’ think pee evaporates and comes back as snow?” You were startled by the sudden sound piercing through the silence.
“what?”
“I said, do ya’ think pee, that’s like on the roadside evaporates and then comes down as snow?”
“I got that, but I wanted to give you an opportunity to take that back. Idiot,” you laughed at your best friend’s ridiculousness, silently thanking him for bringing you back from the hole you were about to crawl into. You didn’t want to go back to pining on him, it took everything out of you last time. You had finally moved on and couldn’t afford to go back down that road again.
Your best friend’s laugh was still ringing in your ears; you felt your heart rate slightly pick up, but you ignored it. Not again.
“Let’s play a game. I am bored.”
Harry pinched his lower lip between his thumb and pointer finger in thought. As he raked his head for some ideas, you looked out the windshield to find it completely covered with snow. You came to the conclusion that your car was completely buried under the snow. Panic now building inside you.
“How about two truths and a lie?” You almost forgot you had asked him to play a game. You nodded, “You first”.
“Okay, how about uhh…I am deathly scared of clowns; I once stepped on a pear covered with bees, was stung multiple times, and almost died from an allergic reaction; and I have never gotten a ticket of any kind.” Harry smiled, amused, as your expression shifted from slight confusion to one of complete confidence.
“Please, with the way you drive, I don’t believe for even a second that you’ve never gotten a ticket; which makes me worry about you. Honey, bee covered pear? Almost died? Are you okay?”
“I was like 10 when the pear incident happened, and honestly I deserved that. I was being a bit of an arsehole and wanted to mess with the bees” he chuckled.
“And instead they messed you up?” You groaned, laughing at your idiotic friend.
His shoulders shook in laughter, you could hear that sound forever.
Thump.
A sound jolted you both. Your smiles dropped as you looked at each other, worried. “What was that? Did you hear that sound? I am not going mad…right?”
He replied with a “I did. Maybe it was death, finally here to take us both”, stretching his hands upward in a dramatic fashion and laughed.
“You’ve got to be kidding me, H” you shrieked, now on the verge of tears. And he could only say, “I am” in between his laughter.
Which brought you back to where you were now. Eyes closed and praying for your life. You couldn’t even see out the window to determine if the snow had stopped or not. You were both surrounded in a thick blanket of darkness. You were hungry, cold and probably going to die in the next couple hours; while the man you oh so foolishly fell in love with didn’t seem to understand the gravity of the situation.
You were also way past the point of denial. If you were going to die tonight, you didn’t want to live your last moments denying the very obvious feelings you had for the person beside you.
“I am scared as well.” You brought your head towards Harry, you wait for him to elaborate. “I figured there was no use for both of us to be afraid, we can’t really do anything about the situation so I tried to distract you, but that clearly didn’t work”, he chuckled half heartedly.
In a brief moment of courage, you placed your hand behind Harry’s head and swiftly brought him into a kiss, surprising both him and yourself.
It felt a little awkward, he seemed frozen and wasn’t responding and you didn’t really know what to do as well. It was just two pairs of lips touching, but not really doing anything else. You started regretting your decision, cursing yourself for ruining everything between you two. No matter what happened moving forward, you knew things would never be the same.
But then his lips started moving against yours, making you gasp. He brought one of his hand to wrap around your waist and the other to cup your cheek, pulling you closer to him. Which made for a little weird position, considering the gear stick placed between you. But neither of you seemed to mind. You let him pull you closer to himself, lips frantically moving against each other now.
After several hours or minutes or seconds- time seemed irrelevant- you both separated, breathing quite heavily, only inches apart. You could feel the smile growing on his face. “I really like you”, you admitted in a whisper, “I have for a while now”.
“Ditto”
“Nope, I refuse to let that be your love declaration”, shaking your head, you crossed your arms across your chest and moved back into your seat.
“Fine, I love you Y/N, have done so ever since the time ya’ blackmailed me with that naked baby picture of mine,” he huffed and despite the darkness, you knew that his cheeks were tinted with pink, he functioned like that, always blushing at the littlest of things.
“That long huh”, you smiled and brought him into another kiss.
That was how the rest of your night was spent, whispered debate over who had loved the other longer, silencing each other with kisses, glances that had no need to be stolen anymore.
The next morning, the tow company workers found you both, tangled in each other’s arms, sleeping peacefully. Alive.
#one bad event after the other pretty much sums up 2020#harry styles imagine#harry styles one shot#harry styles imagines#harry styles fic#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x reader#harry styles fanfiction#Harry Styles#harry styles blurb#car#snow storm#fluff#mutual pining
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If Love’s a Sin, I’m Going to Hell
ShuAke Week 2020
Day 6: Sins / Partnership / Per aspera ad astra
Goro’s never really experienced genuine love before, not since his mother’s. And with all he’s done since then, he believes he doesn’t deserve any. Especially not the love of the phantom thief who stole his heart. Ren, however, thinks otherwise.
Contains: Slight angst perhaps, reference to final fight of Persona 5 (not Royal)
Love has always been a foreign concept for me.
I don’t mean the fickle “love” of adoring fans. Theirs is a fleeting thing, strictly tied to popularity. Familial love died with my mother. And romantic love? Forget it. I had been so preoccupied with getting revenge on Masayoshi Shido that I refused to even consider the notion. Love, I thought, was not for me.
And then Ren came and defied all expectations.
He slowly but surely stole my heart, somehow loving me too despite everything I did to him and his friends. The love I had refused to acknowledge for months survived even me shooting a bullet through it, literally and metaphorically. It feels like there’s nothing I can do that will destroy it.
But...do I really deserve this?
It’s not a thought I want to divulge to Ren, who’s currently laying in bed next to me while being as affectionate as always. I don’t want him worrying over something as trivial as my thoughts. However, it’s like he can sense something is amiss. He looks at me, gray eyes full of loving concern as he asks, “Are you okay?”
I pull a fake smile. “I’m fine,” I reply, stammering over my words a little.
“Akeppi...” He sighs as he shifts closer to me. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong. I told you, everything’s fine.”
“You’re lying.”
“I am not lying.”
“Are too.”
“Fine, I am,” I acquiesce through gritted teeth. He’s always seen through all the lies I’ve thrown at him. Tonight’s no different. I could tell him of the thoughts plaguing my mind, but my pride refuses to let Ren see my weaknesses.
Several seconds of silence pass. Once it’s clear I’m not about to elaborate on my own, Ren finally asks, “Do you wanna tell me?”
Yes. No. “...I don’t know.”
“You can tell me, no matter what it is. Okay?”
Letting out a long sigh, I lean my head back. My gaze stays locked on the ceiling as I say, “I don’t deserve this.”
“What? Of course, you do.”
“No, Ren. I don’t deserve this...and especially not you.” I despise how my voice wavers. I sound nothing like the ruthless sort of person I am. Instead, I sound like a scared little boy. I hate it. Even so, I can’t stop myself as I continue. “How could someone as beautiful, as perfect, as you...how...I tried to kill you. Twice. How could you ever love someone like me?”
“Goro.” He gently moves my head so that I’m looking at him again. I want to find something, anything that would prove me right, that there’s some hatred for me in Ren. Instead, all I find is his constant compassion and his fiery love that can’t be extinguished. He’s too much. Maybe I’m simply not enough. I try to avert my eyes, but he moves so that I have no choice but to face him. “Goro, look at me. You do deserve this. I love you so much, and I’m not about to stop loving you. You’re the only one I want.”
We lay there in silence for a minute. Finally, I move into a sitting position as I spit out, “Don’t you get it? You’re in love with a murderer, the person who was supposed to kill you.”
He sits up as well, still trying to get me to maintain eye contact with him. “That doesn’t matter. I love you, Goro. That’s not going to change.”
“This love, your love...it’s sinful.”
He sounds so serious as he replies, “If loving you is a sin, then I’ll gladly go to hell every second of my life.”
“Ren...” My body moves on its own accord, pulling Ren into a hug. He wraps his arms around me, gently rubbing my back while I have this rare display of raw emotion. “I’m not good enough. I don’t know if I ever will be.”
“You’re perfect the way you are.”
“No, I’m not, but...I refuse to resort to running away or giving up. I’m done keeping you at arm’s length. Even if it takes me a lifetime, I will become the person you deserve. All I ask is that you simply be there by my side while I walk this path.” My voice shakes, dreading imagined outcomes as I add, “You won’t refuse, will you?”
“Of course not.” His lips brush against my cheek, repositioning so that we’re laying down once again. “I’ll always be there for you. Nothing’s going to tear us apart again. I promise.”
I can’t help but scoff. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“I won’t let that promise be broken. Not even a god could kill me. Compared to that, normal life is much easier to survive.”
Closing my eyes, I let myself relax in his hold. He really does mean it. Do I deserve him? No. I don’t. However, if he’s willing to give me a chance, then I’ll try my hardest to be worthy of his love.
#ShuAkeWeek2020#akeppi writes#p5#persona 5#p5r#persona 5 royal#goro akechi#akechi#ren amamiya#akira kurusu#akeshu#shuake#p5 spoilers#all inspired by one stupid line i thought of at 8am this morning#and a series of lines i wrote back in august
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