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feathers-blown-in-the-wind · 2 years ago

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A Gorizilla analysis through the Spiderman lens : Why Ladrien is a genius subversion of the Peter/Gwen (and civilian/superhero) ship

Or way too many words of me explaining why Ladrien is good damnit

While the show seems dedicated to use every side of the love square but Ladrien this season, I do sincerely believe Ladrien has one of the most fascinating dynamic I've seen in superhero media.

So here is an analysis of one of their most iconic moment :

THE GORIZILLA SCENE

The scene is crafted to remind the viewer of one of the most well-known tropes in the superhero genre: the love interest is captured by a villain. It's also a very interesting deconstruction of that trope and I will attempt to explain how below.

It's no secret that Spiderman was an inspiration for Ladybug and I'd argue this scene is reminiscent of it in a lot of ways. In the comics and most adaptations, there is one particular use of that kidnapping trope that comes to mind: the death of Gwen Stacy by the hand of the Green Goblin. Now how does that relate to the Ladrien scene? Let's see.

1. Hawkmoth (and Gabriel) as The Green Goblin : a father's gamble

Most people have at least a vague idea of who the Green Goblin is, and that particular inspiration is probably the most obvious between Spiderman and Ladybug: their nemesis is the father of one of their best friends. Which as both of them will realise, sucks a lot.

Now the Green Goblin setup in ML differs from the comics. At the time of the "Gwen Stacy's death" scene, Hawkmoth and Ladybug have no idea who the other is, whereas the Green Goblin and Spiderman are very well aware. This whole situation is a pure coincidence in classic ml fashion, where secret identities are everywhere and get tangled with each other A LOT. There's a reason the two facts people recognize as typical Miraculous are the love square and Hawkmoth's identity: it is a core part of the series, especially in early season 2, right after the audience learned of that fact.

Their identities being unknown to the other doesn't prevent the scene from working, it instead subverts it. It decides to deconstruct this popular trope: Gabriel has no idea that his son is special to Ladybug, but Adrien matters to him personally. You could argue the Gorizilla scene is an AU where the Green Goblin decides to kidnap Harry instead of Gwen (his own son over the love interest) but it would be missing the point of Miraculous "chassé-croisé d'identités". Here Adrien is both Harry, son of a super-villain, and Gwen, Ladybug's love interest, and it's what makes the scene so poignant. The scene is as much about testing how far Gabriel is willing to endanger his son as it is about if Ladybug can save him.

Adrien being directly involved isn't something Gabriel wants at all but he figures he can use it. You could argue this is the first moment in which Gabriel decides no questions asked to involve his son, and for good reason: confirming if Adrien is Chat Noir, his nemesis' partner. Gorizilla and Style Queen are some of the most humanizing moments Gabriel gets. The two moments where he almost lost Adrien, and the two moments where he wonders how far he can go to bring back his wife, wonders if he is willing to put the last thing he has left in danger on a gamble. This time he gambles: if Chat Noir truly is his son, he'll save himself. If he isn't, Ladybug will.

Adrien is missing, and his bodyguard is deeply upset: it's a perfect akuma setup, and the perfect opportunity to fight and potentially de-mask one of his enemies. Two birds one stone as they say. Unknowingly, Gabriel even strikes a third bird with this move : Ladybug's crush is captured.

2. Maribug as Peter Parker and Adrien as Gwen Stacy : the impossible romance

Gwen Stacy is a character that has been adapted and modified a lot. Sometimes made one with Mary Jane — Spider-Man's other well-known love interest — she is however remembered by one scene: her death (or at the very least her fall). For most people anyway. Now that sounds harsh and I don't believe it to be quite this clear cut: Gwen is very loveable during her life, and it's exactly the reason why her death is what we remember most. Her murder is a gut punch to the viewer and to Peter both because we love her as much as Peter does.

Gwen is Peter's "one that got away", the love of his life that he absolutely can't be with (be it to protect her or because she's already dead): something that Adrien is more and more becoming for Marinette as the show goes on. So is Chat Noir, but Chat Noir is a point I will adress later on.

'Truth' confirms the idea that Marinette having a civilian boyfriend is a bad, terrible idea. To add to this lesson, there are many events in the show that adress why Adrien specifically is someone she is so attached to that she does stupid things. In Volpina, Ladybug almost gives up her Miraculous when she thinks that Adrien is in danger (again another instance where the "love interest in danger" trope is used for Ladrien). In the Christmas special, she gets someone akumatised over Adrien being missing. Desperada's whole plot is about how Ladrien makes them both act dumb and against what they should do. In Chat Blanc she is forced to backtrack on her confession to Adrien - the first one to actually go through - in order to save the world. The season 3 finale was kickstarted in part by her feelings for Adrien and her jealousy towards Kagami. The season 4 finale ended the way it did because she trusted who she thought was Adrien. So far it seems that in season 5 Marinette will take all of these lessons to heart: being close and in love with Adrien is bad for her job as hero. (I haven't watched Kwami's choice yet but from what I know of it, it certainly seems to agree)

There is an evident pattern in the show regarding Ladrien's future : as long as Ladybug and Hawkmoth exist, Adrien has to stay a fantasy, an unreachable relationship that Ladybug can't have, just like Gwen is to Peter. Which seems rather fitting for a romance between the son of a supervilain and Paris' Heroine.

Now the fall in Gorizilla is another example of this phenomenon, but it is a very specific one. For the first time, Adrien's safety is directly in danger. And we, as the audience, know it. Where Volpina and Santa Claws were fake-outs to freak out only Ladybug, here WE are in the same boat. We know Adrien is really there and falling to his certain death. And more importantly: we know Chat Noir isn't coming to save him.

3. The subversion : Adrien as Chat Noir (the importance of trust and agency)

Now here comes the real genius of the scene to me (the genius of the Ladrien dynamic and the love square in general really) : we know Adrien is Chat Noir. We know that Adrien isn't as defenseless as Gwen, or as far removed from the conflict as Harry is. Something that neither Ladybug nor Gabriel know. Adrien isn't an innocent bystander pulled into the conflict by his father and his crush: Adrien is Ladybug's partner and Gabriel's enemy.

We know Adrien is more than capable of saving himself because Gabriel is right: his son is a superhero. However just like our favorite blond boy reinforces to Plagg, saving himself by transforming would be a pretty terrible idea. We're left hoping that it doesn't come to that, and yet it's hard to know how they can avoid it.

The audience is well aware that no matter what happens, Adrien won't die permanently : but thanks to the 'Miraculous Ladybug', that doesn't mean Adrien can't die at all. Sure it would be very unlikely to show his dead body or anything in a kids show, but Chat Noir has definitely 'died' before. And the more the scene advances, the more you're left to wonder how the heroes could win without Adrien exposing his identity. And while Chat Blanc hadn't happened yet, we have a vague idea of the consequences this revelation could have based on our interactions with other superheroes media. Given the very specific game of identity going on, Gabriel confirming his theory would make the plot go way faster than expected (and might just end the show).

We know two things given the show's genre:

Adrien really can't be revealing his identity this early on (it would be kept for a finale or a two parter surely)

Ladybug will win the fight in the end

Whether the situation resolves itself before or after Adrien face-planted on the floor is up in the air. His death being only temporary won't change much on how the audience feels because Adrien is just as loveable as Gwen is. Him dying is the last thing we want since we love him as much as Marinette does and the stakes for the episode are therefore raised.

Now the consequences are all clear but I'd want to circle back to the beginning : how did we end up in this situation ?

In the original comics, Gwen is an absolute damsel in this situation : she's unconscious for pretty much the entire scene and basically gets yeeted off the rooftop. Adrien's situation is very different though and it circles back to one of the most important themes in the show: trust.

If anything, the closest description of the gorizilla scene is a giant trust fall. Gabriel, however willing he is to endanger Adrien, doesn't throw him off the building: he actually attempts to protect Adrien by keeping him with his bodyguard. Now how does Adrien fall then ? That's the thing: he doesn't. Adrien doesn't fall, Adrien jumps. As Ladybug arrives on the roof, she asks him to trust her. And as her secret crush or as Gabriels' son, he doesn't have any reason to do so this willingly. Except Adrien isn't just that: Adrien is Chat Noir. And Chat Noir always trusts Ladybug.

In this scene, Adrien keeps his agency, something Gwen (or most civilian love interests really) isn't usually allowed. There is a lot to be said about the Gwen death scene and some of the inherent sexism that existed in the comics (which is unnavoidable given the time period). Heck even the newer movies, who put a lot of efforts into making MJ a 'feminist' character didn't completely drop the damsel trope (it being inherently a good or bad thing is too nuanced a topic to discuss here). There is however one instance I know of in a Spiderman media where the 'someone I love is falling' is also a trust fall : the 2018 ps4 video game. Now why do I bring that up? Interestingly enough, this video game presents Mary Jane as Spiderman's partner. We can even play as her in some missions ! Now that dynamic sounds very familiar. Video game Mary Jane, just like Adrien, puts a great deal of trust in her partner. And it pays off !

Trust is a fundamental aspect of the love square, and most 'damsel in distress' situations showcase that heavily. Ladynoir trust each other through and through, even when they don't have their own mask on. Adrien is Chat Noir and his lady just told him to jump, to trust her. So he does.

Gabriel is completely panicked because he didn't want that. He doesn't want Adrien falling to his certain death and he sure as hell doesn't trust Ladybug to save him. Gabriel can't understand why his son would and yet Adrien did.

Even Ladybug herself gambles heavily in this scene, hoping against all hopes that her partner will come to save Adrien, trusting that he'll be there, as he always is for her.

Ladrien subverts most damsel in distress trope by virtue of Adrien keeping his agency in them. Adrien is still Chat Noir even when he drops the mask. Adrien chooses time and time again to trust Ladybug, to keep on hoping. And she never disappoints, in clear contrast to Gabriel who keeps on disappointing his son. Trust is a core theme of Miraculous, in both romantic and platonic relationships, and an area in which Marinette and Gabriel really show their differences: Adrien's trust in Ladybug is earned and deserved, whereas Gabriel constantly abuses it.

4. Now what ? An attempt at discussing Season 5 and the 'reverse love square'

Season 5 really puts an emphasis on the trust theme, with almost every Gabriel/Adrien scene being filled with manipulation, while Ladynoir reinforces the importance of trust, no matter how their romantic feelings might evolve. Adrienette follows a similar theme, with Marinette becoming Adrien's confidant, trusting her with his deeper feelings in a way he only did with Plagg (and arguably Ladybug) before.

Adrien might be Marinette's one that got away, but Marinette is undoubtly where Adrien's happy ending lies.

Ultimately, the biggest obstacle to Adrienette is Marinette herself: once she lets herself trust Adrien, their relationship will be smooth sailing (if Gabriel doesn't put his ugly nose where it doesn't belong that is). Interestingly enough, that's what Ladybug has to do in Strikeback, both with Adrien (the real one this time) and with Chat Noir.

The love square plays constantly with the angst, and yet we know the fluff will come eventually. Adrienette is basically the happy version of Gwen/Stacy, an updated version where the damsel becomes the partner, where the happy ending will come one day, as long as they both power through. And it's honestly the best way to describe how Ladybug and Spiderman differs: Peter's ending is rarely happy (seriously half of the comics have the worst endings ever) whereas Marinette's journey, hopeless as it can seem, will lead to happiness eventually.

There are thousands of ways in which the show could get there though, many of which are criticised by at least some part of the fandom for one reason or another. The beginning of the season has flip-flopped a lot between Adrienette and Ladynoir, with Marichat fans finally getting their long awaited 'square reversal'. But where does that leave Ladrien ?

Well according to most: nowhere (despite Marichat being the most popular side, even back when it was unrequited but I digress). There's a lot of hints that the reversal might not be as clear cut as some fans believe, but ultimately, until we get a Ladrien scene in Season 5, it will be complicated to truly settle the debate once and for all.

However, I like to believe that Ladrien will never be an inconsequential relationship: the trust between them will never disappear (I'd argue it's getting stronger than ever), and a love as deep as they had won't vanish that easily, no matter how much they may want to move on. There's still a lot of stories that could be told with Ladrien.

A reprise of the Gorizilla scene would be fascinating for example, and truly showcase how far we've come.

With his slow descent into full blown villainy, would Season 5 Gabriel let Adrien die, and with him the last sliver of a potential reconciliation and redemption ?

How would Ladybug react to Adrien's life being put in danger now ? Season 1 Ladybug almost gave up her Miraculous, but I wonder how a Season 5 one would react: would she trust Adrien to save himself ? Especially if this hypothetical scene happens post reveal.

Would Adrien take a gamble and transform despite the risks ?

There's a lot of different ways this situation could end and I'd be disappointed if they don't use it again.

Since the 'Hawkmoth is Gabriel' reveal, Ladrien has been anticipated to be at the core of his demise, and I still believe it will be the case. By then, the reveal will have blurred the lines, but I have no doubt that Adrien (as Hawkmoth's son) and Ladybug (as his nemesis) will matter most: ultimately, they're the ones that Gabriel cares about, and the finale will surely place them at the forefront, as the ending of the Agreste arc and Gabriel's final confrontation with the Guardian.

In the end, Marichat is the fun and chaotic side that sometimes delves deeper, Ladynoir is the workplace relationship based on complete trust, Adrienette is their teenage first love with all the awkwardness that comes with it, and Ladrien is the one that connects best to the plot: the Love Square is a mix of all of them, and something else entirely and I firmly believe that any analysis of their relationship that aims to do more than breach the surface needs to take a look at all of them and that certainly includes Ladrien, be it requited or platonic.

Now I'm certainly no expert and everyone is entitled to their own opinion but I believe that Ladrien still has a lot of things to offer, even now, perhaps especially so.

(Also for every Spiderman fan out there, don't hesitate to correct me on anything I may have said wrong here, I've never actually read the comics myself so my knowledge is mostly second hand and vague memories of the diverse movies.)

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ratsoh-writes · 3 years ago

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Wait they have heats? Then what are they all like during heat? :o

Here’s the link explaining heats

Sans: he’s not too different during his heat. He likes to joke and call it hibernation because that’s how sans treats it. He does his best to be unconscious as long as possible. He usually saves vacation time from work to take the first two days off. His rarely sat longer than three days

Papyrus: he HATES his heat because it makes him anxious and jittery. Papyrus will work himself to exhaustion during in an attempt to ignore his arousal and anxiety. And there’s not really anything anyone can do to help since he refuses to find a heat partner if he doesn’t have a SO

Star: he becomes oddly calm during his heat. The exhaustion saps all his manic energy leaving him in a nice state of normal. It’s terrifying

Honey: the cramps from his heat make him nauseous so it’s hard for him to keep food down the first two days. If he had a partner though, heats would be a breeze for honey. He doesn’t suffer any personality changes. Just terrible cramps

Red: so he’s super horny, anxious, and sore? Sounds like Tuesday to him. Unless one was his partner and able to smell the stronger magic on red, nobody notices when he’s in heat

Edge: he gets more physically affectionate during his heat. Not only in a flirtatious way with his SO. Edge will also hug red, be nicer to his interns at work, give doomfanger many extra cuddles… he’s still super grouchy though, just cuddly and grouchy

Mal: he’s a seething ball of rage during his heat and should be avoided at all costs unless you plan on being his heat partner.

Cash: he’s… hungry. He has the opposite problem that honey has. Now everything looks appetizing to him. Even sweets. If cash is voluntarily making cookies, he’s in heat.

Oak: heats are not a fun time for him. Oak gets really stressed out so any time he’s awake, the stress makes his memory even worse than usual. So bad he can’t really do much, not even bake. He might forget the oven is on.

Willow: same as oak, his heats are a bad time for him. They make his back ache like a mf, and he has his brother to worry about as well since their heats cycle together. Willow usually takes the week off and spends it worrying about how his managers are handling the bakery

Charm: being a monster infected with the lust serum means that charm is always in a state of low heat. So he actually doesn’t have a heat cycle. He just has to deal with being horny all the time

Sugar: same situation as charm basically

Lord: he becomes softer and less snappy during his heat. Lord will even be sweet to his friends instead of his usual sass. He’s still not down to cuddle though

Mutt: he gets pretty temperamental during his heat and will be looking to pick a fight. Not as bad as mal, but close. Lord forces mutt to quarantine whenever their heats start up because mutt will end up getting injured somehow

Wine: he’s very flirtatious during his heat. It’s funny because wine is normally so prim and proper, but here he is making all the old ladies blush in delight when they visit the antique shop. Rip SO.

Coffee: during his heat he has zero f*cks to give. It’s like all his shyness is thrown out the window. He doesn’t stutter one bit when talking to new people. And like wine, he becomes a smooth mf

Pop: literally nothing changes during his heat except for him being a little tired. Pop is blessed with very easy heats

Rhythm: he gets more emotional and it’s pretty easy to get him crying during this time. His bones are also super sensitive so unless you’re his partner, rhythm won’t want anyone touching him

Pluto: heats make him lazy, so unless it’s canoodling with his partner, Pluto won’t want to do much except lay around and read.

Jupiter: same as Pluto basically. His heats are the one time he isn’t super excited to go out and work.

G: he absolutely hates that constantly aroused feeling and almost always finds a partner for his heats. If he doesn’t though, G turns from funny-rude to genuinely rude during his heat.

Green: he very oddly calm during his heat. He likes to pretend that he’s not hurting and raging horny at the moment lol

Peaches: he gets more social and playful during his heat. Peaches is normally so mild that it surprises people to see him so quick to banter.

Rancher: because of all the hard labor he does, he sometimes misses his heats since he’s too busy to notice the arousal and soreness. Rancher once panicked thinking he missed a season before peaches reassured him that he definitely had it at the same time as him

Snipe: he becomes a nest goblin during his heat and will hide away for the four days in a pile of blankets and pillows he drags into his room. Snipe uses his heat weeks to get caught up on any backlogged paperwork he has

Bruiser: the wanderlust hits hard when he’s in heat. Bruiser only comes home to sleep for about four hours a night. Where he is the rest of the time no one knows

Ace: he’s VERY emotional during his heat and can’t even keep up his usual neutral masks. Out of necessity ace has to take the week off and will spend it sulking unless he has a SO to spend it with

Slim: like papyrus, slim takes the work till you drop route to stave off the anxiety. He usually spends his heats with boss doing any and all fixing jobs the mafia properties might need. Slim prefers sore bones over constant arousal

Butch: he gets super playful and cuddly during his heat. He’s basically a big pest to every one around him lol. This also comes with being extra flirtatious. Because of this, but rarely ends up alone for his heat

Boss: his personality really doesn’t change much during heat, but the raging libido does make him a little more distracted. He usually keeps himself busy and focused by working slim to death. Helping his brother with his anxiety makes boss feel better

Rust: like red, he’s great at hiding his heat and has no problems still going to work on those days. The kids are a great distraction. He’s mopey and listless when he gets home though

Noir: he’s super cuddly as well but less grouchy than edge. Noir will straight up cuddle with rust during heat to try and cheer his brother up. This is a great time for a SO to get him to say something mushy and embarrassing lol

Lilac: without that manic energy Star has, instead of becoming normal, lilac is dead to the world. He’s in pain, exhausted, and too horny to want to look at anyone that’s not a heat partner. He spends it in solitude mostly

Basil: like honey, heats make him super nauseous. But basil refuses to not eat so he spends his heats occasionally checking in on lilac and focusing on not throwing up :(

#suggestive #undertale imagines #undertale headcanons #undertale #underswap #underfell #swapfell #horrortale #fellswap red #fellswap gold #dancetale #outertale #gastertale #farmtale #mafiatale #mafiaswap #mafiafell #horrorfell #horrorswap

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justasimplesinner · 4 years ago

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Please for the love of fuck give me a happy ending to the riddler/scarecrow breaking hcs that may or may not start off with the reader running into them again and being understandably pissed. I just want to throw a vase at Eddie. I can have a mature conversation with Johnathan with some raised voices and some crying from both parties but I want to throttle that green goblin lookin motherfucker. I want to see fear in that man's eyes as I curbstomp his stank ass for living in my head and never paying rent. Cause that shit broke me no pun intended.

I'm a soft bitch I need someone to put a bandaid on the hurtie and kiss is to make it feel better.

ugh, you fuckin' softies. continuation of this post

Arkham Knight!Riddler getting his happy ending hcs:

like i stated in the previous post, you two may have not been together anymore, but that didn't mean he'd leave you alone. you were the last bit of his sanity, at this point, he didn't know how to live without you. he was constantly lying to himself and you about the motives behind his calls and visits, but truth was, he was just trying to cling on. he couldn't let you go, you were his raft in the middle of the fucking ocean, if he let you go, he'd... he wouldn't survive that. he didn't know how

but it doesn't mean that this whole thing sat well with you. fucking bastard, neglects you for years, treats you like the very dirt he walks on and now has the gall to fucking invade your private space? ruin you completely? it's like it didn't matter if you were with him or not, he'd still find a way to fucking destroy you. and you, on one hand, genuinely wanted out. you wanted him out of your life, because you had only one and you didn't want to live it in misery, you didn't want to just suffer and take it like a good puppy. you weren't even sure he realised the extent to which he fucking hurt you, because he was constantly focusing on himself and no one else, because selfishness was his coping mechanism and he wouldn't change

it was only logical that at some point, you'd have enough. you didn't want to fucking live like this. he didn't have a right to just sit there and do nothing and yet simultaneously do damage. he was a grown fucking man and it was time he made a grown fucking choice

– Well, well, well, look who decided to finally show up-... – you didn't give him the chance to finish, your fist connecting hard with his nose, or maybe it was his cheek, though you hoped it was his eye so it'd hurt the most. You didn't really know, you didn't really care, you've had fucking enough. You knew he was there, in your house, before he even opened his yapping mouth, and you didn't fancy being greeted in your only safe (or, apparently, not-so-safe) space by a fucking insult from the man responsible for all your current misery.

You didn't feel a pang of regret, quite the contrary, his stumbling form and widened eyes gave you this weird feeling of satisfaction. You kind of understood why Batman did what he did, beating Ed's ass was just too rewarding.

– I've had fucking enough of you and your stupid charade! – you didn't plan on beating around the bush anymore, it was time he was fucking faced with the consequences of what he did.

He didn't have the time to recover from your last blow before the first thing you could grab collided with his shoulder - a vase, apparently, and it shattered into small pieces upon impact. Great, now he fucking ruined your favourite vase, too, as if your life wasn't enough for him!

– You have no right to fucking invade my house and treat me like shit even after I've dumped you! – with every word, with every step you took forward, he took one back, eyes wide in genuine fear as he tried to back away from you, maintain a safe distance, as if anything could save him from your wrath now.

– If I mean nothing to you, then why the fuck are you even here?! Why the fuck do you insist on getting me all tangled up in your stupid games?! I'm not gonna fucking sit here and take it like an obedient pet just because you can't get over the fact that we're not together anymore! – you raged on, and you had no intention of stopping, you watched him back away, you watched him stupidly bump into the side of your couch and fall on his stupid fucking ass. He deserved to fall on the floor, not on a set of nice, comfy pillows. But he had no way out now. He had nowhere to run, not when you fucking rounded up on his shock-still form.

– I-... – he dared to try and interrupt you and it was truly the last straw, it was all you needed to have angry tears blur your vision and your hands clenched in fists again.

– You never even fucking apologized to me for anything either! Did it ever fucking occur to you that if, instead of tormenting me and calling me an idiot, you just fucking said you're sorry, pushed your idiotic pride aside and genuinely fucking said you're sorry, then I would've taken you back?! That maybe we wouldn't be here, in this fucking situation, if you just weren't selfish for once and apologized for all the shit you did to me, all the pain you've put me through-

– I'm sorry. – it was so quiet you almost didn't hear it. So shaky and breathy, so fucking... guilty. Heartbroken. So utterly pathetic. Just like he was, just like he looked. Just like you wanted him to be, but now that he was, you hated it. You hated his glossed over, wide eyes, the shame in them, the guilt, the pain. You hated his arms, slightly risen in a protective manner because he expected another blow. He deserved another one, but... it's like he was just a child then. Just this small, broken boy that was afraid to admit he was wrong, that was afraid of the punishment that awaited for him. And all over again, he made you want to pull him close to your chest and kiss it all better, make it so he'd never experience this pain again. And you hated yourself for it.

you've destroyed the fucking dam then. you haven't heard this man apologize to you once in your entire life, and suddenly, you were swarmed with sorries, with regrets and sorrows and his tears. suddenly, he remembered every smallest thing he ever did that made you upset, and he apologized over and over, for everything and anything, and you thought he was going to suffocate with how he was crying and rambling on your couch

god, he wasn't fucking worth it, you knew that, but suddenly, he was in your arms again, and you were soothing his shaking form, again. you were back there to ground him, to comfort him, to make him feel loved, even if he didn't deserve it. you were there to listen to his - probably empty - promises to change, even though you knew he most likely didn't have the power to change at this point, and god dammit - you believed it. or wanted to believe it. you wanted to believe that maybe you were important and that maybe he will put the effort in changing for you this time as you kissed him breathless and let him cling onto you for dear life. you wanted to believe that he deserved a(nother) second chance and that there was still hope for him as you clung right back. you missed having him right there, in your embrace. despite everything. and maybe you were just plain out stupid, or maybe he truly made a promise he, for once, intended to keep. and honestly? you weren't sure if you were ready to find out

you also apologized for throwing a vase at him. he wasn't mad. if he was, you'd throw another one. he had no right to be mad

Arkham Knight!Jon getting his happy ending hcs:

Jon genuinely thought about seeking you out, hoping that maybe that would give him some closure, that it would make him able to work and function properly again. but he realised how stupid, how selfish and disgusting that was. he swore to himself he won't even fucking force you to look at his ugly mug again. he had no right to come to you, expecting the person he pushed away in order to work to help him get back to work. he didn't fucking deserve to even breathe the same air as you

he kept tabs on you though. he had to know where you lived now, where you worked, and knowing where you were at all times would be ideal too, but he didn't dare go that far as to have someone stalk you. it's not out of some creepy obsession, it's actually out of... concern. sounds ridiculous, especially since he hadn't expressed any concern for you for the past few months, but he... he really didn't want to ever hurt you again. even accidentally. even if you were to be collateral damage. he needed to know the places he could target and the places he couldn't, he needed to know when, where and on who he could test his freshest batches and when, where and on who he couldn't. he hurt you enough. he destroyed your mind enough. he wasn't about to subject you to your worst fears too

but a reunion was inevitable, it seemed. one way or another, fate was bent on bringing you two back together. and so, he missed the fact that you changed your jobs and started working at Ace Chemicals, front desk actually, passing around exactly the information he needed about the company, it's building and resources

You genuinely couldn't believe your fucking eyes. You couldn't believe his cheek. The gall he had to be standing right here, in front of you, in his tattered, dirty "glory", milky eyes seeming wild behind the mask, as if he didn't expect you to be here. As if he hadn't planned it all.

– What are you doing here? – you didn't even have the strength to get angry at him anymore. You just resigned yourself to the fact that he was going to haunt you every single day for the rest of your life, be it in person or as a fleeting thought in your mind. You weren't allowed to get rid of him. You weren't allowed to forget.

– I could be asking you the same question. – his tone was hard to decipher. As if it was emotionless, but at the same time wasn't. Like there was something behind it, something he didn't want you to see. Something he himself wasn't ready to face.

You were already too exhausted mentally to give a shit.

– I work here. – you sighed, using that mocking tone he always used on you whenever you asked "stupid" questions. Funny, how one day he tells you there are no stupid questions and that you can always ask away, that he will always listen, and then treats you like an idiot when you do.

And yet you still loved his sarcasm, loved his quips and biting remarks. This was who he was, and you did, after all, love him as a whole.

– I didn't know that. – you were actually ready to believe that, what with how he was still standing there, practically in the doorway. He didn't round up on you yet, he didn't corner you like you were his prey. Actually, it seemed he thought you were the predator, like he was... scared to come closer.

Maybe that was better for the two of you. Who know what you'd do if he started to come at you like he owned you and this whole place.

– Oh, didn't you now? – you couldn't allow him to know though. It was his turn to get the cold shoulder for once. Not that he cared enough to be hurt by it. Not that he ever cared. About you, about anything. Anything but his work.

Jesus, fuck, you couldn't break down in front of him. You already did in the past. Way too many times. You weren't going to give him the satisfaction of having the upper hand.

– You shouldn't've gotten a job here. – he seemed to feel as if he had it anyway – I work with chemicals on a daily basis and you know I'm planning to gas the entire city, it is only logical for me to take advantage of having a huge chemical factory right in the middle of it. It was obvious I'd come here sooner or later. – every word he said, he took a step closer to the desk. Every word he said, he beat you down into the ground harder. Obviously, you were in the wrong. Yet again. Always your fault. Why would you distract him from his goal yet again? Why would you meddle? It seemed that even if you didn't want to, you proved to be an inconvenience, a chink in the chain that was his research. It didn't matter what you did, it was never going to be good enough.

You two weren't compatible, after all.

– Yep, I'm stupid, I get it. Go on, psychoanalize me too, tell me how I did it knowingly just because I wanted to see you again. – you couldn't stop yourself from snarling at him. As always, he only came to you to break down what you've so carefully built back together. It was always that way, if you really thought about it. Every time you were starting to get used to his absence, starting to truly live on your own, he suddenly appeared, acted like everything was fine, acted like he loved you, and you believed it like the fool you were. You believed it and then he left you alone again. You believed it and then you woke up to an empty bed again. Every single time.

Maybe you really were a fucking idiot.

– And did you? – or maybe he was one, because this comment only resulted in riling you up more and yet he dared to fucking ask.

– I fucking hate you Jon. – you weren't ready to believe that what he just did at your words was flinching. That it hurt enough for him to physically move away. – If I wanted to look at your face again, I'd just turn on the news.

– I don't want to hurt you. – that was bullshit. He never did anything else. Hurting you was what he was best at, and he prided himself in it. – But I need access to the vast supply of chemicals your workplace has to offer. – even when you two fucking argued, it always came down to his work. Even when you told him you hated him, all he offered back was that he didn't care and came here just to get shit done. He didn't even fucking care enough to at least say he hates you back.

– You don't want to hurt me? That's a new one. – you were really tempted to just roll your eyes and go back to work. To ignore him, like he always did to you. But suddenly, you realised just how close he was. Practically leaning over the desk. His scarred face hooded and covered in a mask, hidden away from you. That face you wanted to stare into every time you woke up, that face you wanted to be the last thing you saw every day you went to sleep. That face that you wanted to kiss better, to make him know. Make him know you didn't mind. Make him know he was still handsome as ever. He never believed you, and you saw that. You saw that very clearly in his milky eyes. It's like they were fogged, like his mind was surrounded with fog and blurred reality with imagination, like there was this barrier between the two of you.

It wasn't there at first. But then he changed, and you didn't really know who he was anymore.

– I'm sorry. – it felt like pity. Like he pitied you. Like he was saying it just so you'd shut the fuck up and move out of his way at last.

And maybe it was better if you did.

– Save it. I won't get in the way of your plans, don't worry. I'm not getting paid enough to sacrifice myself for this place either way. – you were gathering your things, leaving the computer on, the information unguarded. You could use a day off, anyway. To cry in peace or whatever.

No such luck apparently, since Jonathan immediately had you in a grip, his fingers flexing against your arms.

– No, (Y/n). I'm sorry.

you really weren't ready for that conversation. not at all. you would never be ready for that. seeing Jon apologizing, hell, seeing him crying, genuinely crying in front of you, over you, wasn't something you ever expected to see. Jonathan, despite being a skilled psychologist, never really talked about his emotions. he was always hellbent on talking through yours - well, at the beginning he was, until the whole "spiralling into his obsession" thing started. then, he stopped, because he didn't have time for you. or, as he now explained, didn't have the courage to face how much he's hurt you. you really wanted to fucking punch him then, when he told you that he knew. that he knew all the time what he was doing, and yet never stopped, as if he purposefully sabotaged your relationship so you'd leave him. you knew he had his problems and you couldn't blame him for that, but you could blame him for running away from them. you could blame him for treating you like shit since he woke up from his short coma after the incident with Killer Croc. hell, he took the blame full on

you've never heard him so... bare. so raw. so vulnerable. when he apologized to you, thanked you for everything you ever fucking did, for always helping him, for sticking by him for that long, for enduring him and showing him how it feels to be loved, he was but a broken man. for the first time in... assumably ever, Jonathan didn't hide behind any walls and just... let the words flow. both of you knew that wasn't enough to compensate for what he did. nothing will ever be enough. he will never give you back everything that he took from you, and your heart will never fully heal. even if you two got back together, he wouldn't resign from his research either, and more likely than not, it was all going to end exactly the same, with him hiding away from you because apparently, acting like he didn't love you saved you from the heartbreak, and you having to mend your broken heart on your own, alone, knowing you will never get all your lost time back. you will never get back the time you spent crying in your home because you knew he wasn't coming. and yet, you - like the idiot you probably were - dived right back in. because you fucking loved him. and maybe it was stupid, and maybe his arms clinging onto you as you kissed him for the first time in months were stupid too, but if being stupid meant being happy, even for just one moment, you were going to take it

Jonathan still had a lot to make up for. you didn't think he will ever manage, honestly. but you were excited to see him try

#riddler #edward nigma #edward nygma #the riddler #jonathan crane #scarecrow #the scarecrow #arkhamverse #batman arkham knight #my writing #headcannons #drabble #angst #a sprinkle of fluff #kinda bittersweet #panshrekual iii

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cactusnymph · 4 years ago

Text

Prompt fill #9 for @dimension20alphabet:

Injury

The air smells of smoke, dust and blood.

Fabian is pretty sure that his left foot is broken, which sucks because he’s going to have a hard time kicking anyone’s ass without both his feet. Dancing will also be difficult.

He clutches his battle sheet and tries to pull his foot out of the rubble it got stuck between. If he gets his hands on the bastards who made this damn cave explode above them even their ancestors are going to have a headache waking up tomorrow.

But for that to happen, Fabian needs to get out of here.

“Fabian?”

Riz’ voice sounds hoarse and muffled and Fabian assumes that he’s somewhere behind another pile of rubble.

“I’m over here”, he answers and tries to make his voice sound casual and not like he wants to do something embarrassing, like whimper from the pain. Fabian can barely anything and breathing is hard because there is so much dust in the air.

“I’ll—let me see if I can get to you. You okay?”, Riz asks. Fabian doesn’t waste his breath to answer, he tries to push some of the rubble away from his ankle and lets out a wheezing breath. His mouth tastes like iron.

He can hear Riz try to move the rubble out of the way, but his arms are like tiny twigs so Fabian doesn’t see how he’ll get any of that shit to move. And Fabian, being uselessly stuck with his damn foot, can’t help him.

Fabian thought that splitting up the party was the smartest move, but now he regrets their choices because damn, they sure could use Kristen’s healing or Adaine’s magic or Gorgug’s insane muscles to move some of this shit.

The quest to defeat the Night Yorb hasn’t exactly gone well so far. Fabian feels like being stuck in a fucking cave with his foot broken and his mouth full of blood is the peak of bad luck that they have reached so far. He can only hope that the others had more success on their ventures.

But as far as he knows, they’re also stuck somewhere in here.

Fabian never specifically had a problem with small, closed spaces, but right now he feels like his chest is unusually tight and he could swear that the damn ceiling is getting closer while he’s desperately trying to get his foot unstuck.

The rubble behind him shifts and a few pained noises bring Fabian back to reality as a small, lithe shape wiggles itself through an impossible tiny crack made in the pile behind him as Riz appears, his head bleeding profusely and his face contorted in a mix of determination and pain.

“Are you okay?”, Riz asks again the second he scrambles through the hole he made. Fabian notices that his hands are also bleeding—probably from digging through all those stones. Something in Fabian’s chest feels like a nervous bird fluttering against his rib cage and it takes him a confused moment to realize that it’s his heart.

Riz has been different since they defeated the Nightmare King.

More self confident somehow. Less awkward. Scarily competent.

And he stopped wearing his hat.

Fabian has been feeling weird around him for a while, but the fact that this little Goblin dug himself through sharp rocks to get to him, bleeding and bruised and hurt, and the first thing he does is ask if Fabian is okay—it does things to him.

Fabian refuses to acknowledge this.

“My foot is stuck”, he says.

Riz—and he’s been Riz for a while now, at least in Fabian’s head, and not The Ball anymore—turns his huge, yellow eyes to the stones that are crushing Fabian’s foot between them.

“Got it”, Riz says and without doing anything about his bleeding head or his bleeding hands he gets to work, his small frame working tirelessly, determined, stubborn even. The rocks are big—way too big for Riz to actually lift them.

But Riz wouldn’t be Riz if he wouldn’t be a nerd even about stuff like this.

Using his sword as leverage he manages to roll the bigger ones off of the pile. While he works Fabian can see blood dripping down the sword and Riz’ face.

He swallows heavily.

“You’re bleeding”, he croaks.

“I know. I’ll take care of it in a second”, Riz answers.

He’s focused.

Fabian knows that, when Riz gets like this, there is no way to deter him from the task at hand. It sometimes happens for a project at school, or when he has a case he’s close to cracking. He disappears into his head and into his task at hand and it takes hours for him to appear again.

Fabian doesn’t know when exactly he started to catalogue all of Riz’ facial expressions and behaviors, but he has quite the collection so far.

Riz works in silence. Sometimes, when he gets like this, he starts mumbling to himself, but not this time.

He looks almost grim.

Fabian isn’t sure if it’s actually getting warmer in here or if that’s just him.

“Do you think the others got stuck as well?”, he says to distract himself from the heat crawling under his skin and the fluttering in his chest.

“Probably not. By my estimation they should be way further down already”, Riz murmurs and wipes some sweat off his forehead, which simply leaves a smearing of blood where his hand touches his green skin.

Fabian has no idea since when his damn brain finds it mesmerizing to see blood on his best friend’s skin, but here he is, staring at Riz because he looks weirdly... ragged? Badass?

Fabian is annoyed at himself.

When he finally feels the weight lifted off his ankle he pulls his leg out and makes a pained noise in the back of his throat that causes Riz’ concentrated gaze to turn to him. His yellow eyes remind Fabian of cats’ eyes in the dark and he swallows again as Riz comes over to him and touches Fabian’s face to turn his head to the side so he can inspect his wounds.

Fabian’s heart stumbles in his chest.

Gods dammit, this is completely ridiculous.

“You bleeding anywhere else?”, Riz asks and then his eyes find Fabian’s and they’re staring at each other. Fabian knows that Riz is in no headspace to think about kissing, but damn, Fabian does. Fabian’s stupid brain tells him to just grab Riz by the shoulders and pull him down, pull him on top of Fabian to minimize the space between them—

“Fabian? You got a concussion? Let me check your eyes.”

Riz gets even closer.

Fabian thinks he might die.

He thinks about the way Aelwyn made him feel back then, when he got so excited about kissing her again. Somehow that was nothing compared to how he’s been feeling about Riz for a while now. As Fig said, kissing someone you’re “madly in love with just hits different”.

“Don’t think so”, he manages and his voice sounds like sandpaper on stone.

“Okay. I have my healer’s kit. Just let me clean my hands real quick.”

Fabian watches how Riz procures water and his healer’s kit from his bag and starts washing his hands as good as he can before he tries to wrap bandages around both of his hands. He lets out a frustrated hiss.

“Let me—“, Fabian says and grabs Riz’ hands.

To be fair, Fabian never paid much attention when Cathilda or Kristen tried to teach him first aid because it never was of much interest to him—and now he definitely wishes he had listened a little closer. But it can’t be that difficult to wrap a tiny pair of Goblin hands in bandages to make them stop bleeding.

“You have to do, like, a kind of V-shape. Yeah. Like that. Not too tight, please. Yeah, that works.”

What Fabian didn’t really think through was that now he’s somewhat holding Riz’ hands. Which doesn’t exactly help his brain or his heart to calm down. At least his internal turmoil distracts him from the pain and the situation they’re currently in.

He remembers how Riz stole that healer’s kit on their very first day of school. He’s had it ever since and restocked it carefully for each of their adventures, taking great care to learn how to give first aid to his friends when everyone else was out of spells or they were separated.

“Thanks, Fabian”, Riz says once it’s done and he wiggles his fingers slightly, then turns his eyes back on Fabian’s face.

“I’ll take care of your head first and then I can check out that foot. Maybe I can—I dunno. Make a splint or something.”

“You—uh. You got really good at this”, Fabian says and turns his gaze upwards so he doesn’t have to focus on Riz’ yellow eyes right in front of him anymore.

“Thanks”, Riz mumbles and his bandages fingers touch Fabian’s face gently.

Fabian kind of wishes one of the rocks had just knocked him out.

This is pathetic.

He is Fabian Aramais Seacaster.

Maybe his confidence died briefly—or for a longer period of time—back on their Spring Break adventure, but he’s been building it back up! He’s a catch! He’s amazing!

Riz should be the one getting nervous because he’s allowed to touch Fabian’s handsome face.

“I think once we’re patched up you should take my sword and teleport through all that rubble and I’ll try to crawl back. We need to find the others.”

“You shouldn’t crawl back through that, The Ball”, Fabian says, thinking about Riz’s bloody hands. Riz shouldn’t get hurt on Fabian’s behalf.

Gods, Fabian has it bad.

“It’s fine. I’m smaller than you, so it’s easier for me. And I don’t think you should move too much with that brok—“

“I’m in—I have feelings. For you.”

Silence.

Fabian doesn’t dare to breathe. Two seconds ago it felt right to finally say it, but now he’s regretting all his life choices leading up to this, as Riz’ yellow eyes stare at him, his small fingers still on Fabian’s forehead, holding a piece of gauze against the wound.

“Wh—what?”

“Forget it—it’s uh—I probably do have a concussion. Nevermind!”

He can tell that Riz doesn’t buy it and also that Fabian’s words have ripped him out of his state of hyper-focus, something that Fabian has never managed to do before. Maybe he should feel kind of proud. But instead he feels sick to his stomach.

“Feelings? Like—uh—like...”

Fabian sees the confidence slip from Riz’ face like a mask he wore, and underneath is still the socially awkward kid handing people fucking business cards and vomiting inside of backpacks because he heard some clues.

“Yeah. Like that”, he says.

It’s hard to see in the dark, but Fabian could swear that Riz’ cheeks are tinted dark green.

“Really?”

His voice sounds very small now. Nervous. As if he expects Fabian to start laughing and say “Of course not, The Ball”. Which is probably fair. It’s not like Fabian ever managed to make his appreciation of his best friend very clear.

“Hm.”

“Oh.”

“Oh? What does that mean?”

“I—uh—I don’t. Um—this is—“

Riz laughs nervously and turns his head.

“I didn’t—um. Well”, he laughs again and sits down, hugs his knees and props his chin on top of them. “I kinda didn’t expect to ever hear that. From you. Um—yeah. It’s been... a long time. For me? I guess.”

Fabian’s brain short circuits and his heart does a very complicated dancing routine.

“You—what?”

Riz peaks up at him. Shrugs.

“I’ve kinda been in love with you since. I don’t even know. A long time.”

“For real?”

“Yeah. For real.”

“Okay, fuck this cave. Fuck this whole thing. We have to get out of here so I can fucking kiss your brains out. Give me your sword.”

Riz hides his face for a second and then he laughs, a shaky, nervous but also happy laugh. He does not hand Fabian his sword.

“First the wounds. Then the sword. Then—then the other stuff.”

“Fine. You better hurry up.”

“I will. Hold still.”

Fabian is still determined to kick everyone’s ass once they get out of this. But maybe he’ll also send them some fruit baskets to the hospital afterwards.

#fabriz #dimension 20 #fantasy high #riz gukgak #fabian seacaster #fabian aramais seacaster #d20alphabet21 #fanfiction #mi writes

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frostsinth · 4 years ago

Text

Royal Flush - Pt. 1

The prologue to this story can be found HERE. I plan to redo/redesign the picture at some point. UPDATE: Redid the picture HERE

A new story (because fuck me, that’s why). This time between a Goblin King, and a young human Prince. Something new and fresh I hope you will all fancy. And hopefully a line up for another fic I have planned for the future.

As always, please visit my MasterList to see my other works, and feel free to BuyMeACoffee while you are there. If you have any prompts, ideas, thoughts, or insane ramblings, I love to hear from you. Please send me all the notes, tags, asks, or DMs your little hearts desire.

Enjoy!

“… Nikostratus, I… I know you are ...conflicted,” He started, and I felt my blood run hot again at his words, “But that is no reason-”

“My life is doomed to misery, regardless of what end,” I snapped at him, anger lacing every word, cutting him off, “… At least this way, Morgana will have a chance at finding happiness.”

He fell silent, his face a mask of horror, and I turned back to face the Goblin King. Stepping forward, I placed one arm over my chest, then bent at the waist. Bowing deeply to him.

“Your Majesty, I agree to your proposal.”

“I am humbled, and honored,” The Goblin King replied, and I could hear the smirk in his voice, even as I kept my eyes on the ground beneath me. “Come, we can discuss the details further in my private study… alone.”

I stiffened slightly at his request. But realized that the word he stressed was less suggestive and more… cold? As I slowly raised from my bow, I saw his scarlet eyes glaring harshly over my shoulder. I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck prickling, and tightened my jaw. Resisting the urge to look back at my guard. Knowing now exactly whom that tone had been for and not imagining I would enjoy the expression waiting behind me.

“As you wish, Your Majesty.”

The King gestured for me to follow him, leading the way across the floor to a door set into the side of the great chamber. With my will steeled, I followed after. If Gareth attempted to follow as well, I did not know. Nor what would become of him, left alone upon my exit with the Goblin King. And with the anger at his words still hot in my blood at that moment, I didn’t care.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” I tried not to mumble as he held the door open for me.

“Please, call me Grier. Assuming all goes well, we are to be married soon, after all.” I couldn’t help but wince at the word, and my mouth felt dry. I saw his scarlet eyes flicker to me at their corners. “And what are you comfortable with being called, Your Highness?”

I hesitated, unable to resist flinching ever so slightly as the door clunked closed behind us. “My name is Nikostratus, if it pleases you, Your Majesty.”

“Grier.” He corrected, and led the way down the smaller side hallway. I hardly took notice of my surroundings, feeling hollow and numb. “And it matters not if it pleases me. It is your name, no? Though I will admit it is a bit of a mouthful.”

I didn’t answer. I wasn’t sure how to answer. The weight of it all was suddenly dropping onto me, and I felt my palms clasped behind my back growing sweaty. I swallowed, tightening my jaw. There was still much to discuss before the arrangement could be finalized. I had to keep my head level, for the sake of my people. I could not let the goblins take more than an inch in negotiations. Couldn’t let myself be razzled by whatever life I had just signed myself up for. It was entirely possible that had been his intent! Perhaps the entire ‘marriage’ would be an endless attempt to manipulate me into breaking; to gain the upper hand. Just how far would a goblin be willing to go for one of their pranks? An arranged marriage certainly didn’t seem out of that scope. Would it lead up to the ceremony? Beyond?

“Do you have any other names you like to go by?” He pressed, opening a grand carved oak door and standing back to allow me to enter first. I stiffened, but nodded appreciatively and stepped past him as quickly as I could. “A nickname? Or perhaps you wouldn’t mind if I choose a term of endearment for you?” His voice was light and teasing, but it made a chill run down my spine. “Perhaps ‘sweetheart’ or ‘dear’. I have always liked the term ‘pet’, though I believe it would be ill suited for our… situation.”

I swallowed hard again, grinding my teeth quietly as I stopped before the grand desk in the room. I turned my head slightly to watch him saunter around to the other side after closing the large door behind himself.

“I prefer Nikostratus.” I hoped my voice didn’t sound too dry.

His crooked smirk didn’t lighten the burden of my nerves, nor allow me any relief from the notion this whole mess was simply some ploy. Some elaborate goblin mischief. But he didn’t sit in the ornate chair behind the desk as I had anticipated. Instead, he gathered up an inkwell, a handful of quills, and a roll of parchment and brought it over to the overly plush chairs set before the grand fireplace of the room.

I used that moment to take stock of the study for the first time since entering. It was large, with tall stone bookshelves filled to bursting with old tomes. The smell of their ancient parchment as well as the smoke from the fire in the large fireplace suffused the room. There were assorted knick knacks dotting every available surface, from a golden astrolabe to a pristinely painted globe and even a silver sundial propped against one wall. Aside from the huge desk and plush pair of armchairs, there was a small marble table before the fire, and a silver cart piled with various shaped decanters and glasses. The entire room was disheveled and cluttered, with heaps of parchments and quills strewn about, tomes left half opened with numerous different things from ribbons to dried flowers tucked between their pages, and the evidence of projects started but never completed.

The study was also vehemently colored, with no two fabrics matching another. There were glittering crystalline mobiles and diagrams and draped scarves dangling from the rafters. Various pillows in different shapes, colors, and sizes pooled off the armchairs onto the floor which was covered with several overlapping carpets that absolutely had no unifying color scheme. It was overwhelming, and I couldn’t help but cast an apprehensive eye about as he settled in one of the two chairs facing each other.

“Are you hungry?” He offered, simply sweeping whatever had been on the small marble table onto the floor with a clatter to make space for his parchment and quills. “Perhaps some tea? I believe I have heard humans like tea.”

It took me a breath to realize he had spoken to me. When his red eyes lifted to my face, I straightened sharply, but shook my head.

“No, Your Majesty, thank you.”

He scoffed, waving one green skinned hand. “Grier.” He corrected me again. “Now sit. We have much to discuss if we want to have a proper marriage contract drawn up tonight.”

I let out my breath slowly between tight lips. I could do this. Write up a marriage contract. A peace contract, rather. I knew how to negotiate. How to write contracts. And I needed to make sure the terms were in my kingdom’s best interest. Slowly, I walked over, glancing down at the plush chair facing his briefly before lowering myself into it. I sat at the very edge so as not to disturb the large quantity of odd shaped pillows there. This would be easier if I just was careful not to remember it was my marriage contract.

“Now then, down to business,” He drew up his quill, scribbling a long, over flourished sentence at the top of the parchment. “And I would urge you to speak your mind here, my young Prince. We must be able to forgo formalities and niceties if we are to complete a formidable and agreeable contract.” He dabbed a note. “As discussed, removal of my soldiers from your kingdom is first.”

I nodded, eyeing him as his long fingers deftly maneuvered the quill into forming short, neat little letters. “We will need to redefine the borders between the two kingdoms as well.”

One thin eyebrow raised, and he glanced up at me through pale lashes. “However do you mean?”

I placed my hands on my knees, back still ramrod straight. “The skirmishes over the last decade have allowed disputed territories to fall into your control. We would need them returned.” I cocked my head ever so slightly to the side. “As a sign of your good faith.”

He tsked, but seemed amused. “You will find I have treated your citizens quite admirably while they were beneath my occupation.” His quill scratched across the page. “Perhaps they may not wish to return.”

I paused, but decided it was just an effort on his part to get a rise out of me. “Never-the-less… They will be returned. And our borders will become defined and respected.”

A soft ‘hrumph’, and he leaned back in his chair, re-reading what he had just written. “Very well… though perhaps I was under the misinformation that our kingdoms would become united with our marriage? Forming into one?”

I resisted the urge to flinch at his words, feeling my knuckles clench slightly with the effort. “A kingdom cannot have two Kings. Royal marriages unify countries, but they do not become a single kingdom. Borders are open, allowing for trade and travel ease for citizens, as well as lower taxes for goods produced.” My voice sounded hollow and distant, even to my own ears. “There is also the expectation of allied forces, should a conflict arise for either kingdom.”

“My kingdom will.” He mused, penning a note.

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Have two Kings,” He glanced up at me, his crooked smirk forming again, “My Kingdom will. Unless I have your future title wrong. Would you perhaps remain a Prince by human customs?”

I felt heat rising around the edge of the collar of my shirt. “The title is not important.”

The goblin sat up taller in his seat. “It is important.” He insisted. “I want to be sure you, as well as your people, are comfortable with all terms of this contract. These are terms of peace, not surrender.”

Then why doesn’t it feel that way? I wondered quietly, but otherwise didn’t comment further. Clamping my lips shut. I reminded myself again why I was doing this; for my people. For Morgana. He waited for me to speak for a moment, his red eyes locked on my face. For my part, I made a point to focus on the fireplace.

“Alright,” He relented finally, impatient, “You tell me. What title would you have? If this was a contract between humans, hm?” He twirled the quill nimbly between his fingers. “I want to be sure to use the proper terms, so there is no confusion.”

My hands slowly curled into fists on my knees. “The title is not important.”

He sighed impatiently. “Oh come now. If it’s not important, then it should be simple enough to answer, yes?” He twirled the quill again, and my eyes darted to it from their corners. “If this was a marriage contract between a human Prince and a human King, upon their marriage, what title-”

“There is no such thing,” I snapped, cutting him off as my temper flared, “Of a marriage between a Prince and a King. It does not matter what title you choose, the concept is abhorrent to my people, and the marriage will never-” I stopped short, closing my eyes and slowly letting my breath out through my nose. “...While it will be accepted as a valid and legally binding contract of peace… It will never be accepted as a true marriage.”

A tense silence stretched between us, and for a long moment, I feared I had ruined everything. That he would no longer feel an arranged marriage between us would hold the same weight. I felt the sinking dread that the loss of my temper had doomed my sweet little sister. Or perhaps my entire kingdom. For certainly such a slight would never have been permitted in our court. A proposed marriage contract that was not a recognized marriage? Unacceptable. I sat with my eyes closed, my lips in a tight line, trying to steady my breathing. To regain my composure.

“... If I have misjudged you,” He began slowly, his previous arrogance and teasing gone from his tone, “... Or if I have been misinformed as to your… preferences...” I may have winced at the words, but I was clenched far too tight to notice “-We do not have to go forward with this contract. I will not sign anything without the clear consent of both parties.”

I slowly opened my eyes, keeping them firmly focused on the table beside me. Not daring to lift my gaze to his, though I felt his own boring into my skull. He sat silently, perhaps expecting an answer. But I did not have the strength to give it just yet. My fists were clenched so tight they were nearly white. For all his words… he didn’t seem to understand. There were no other options for me. We had to go forward with this contract. For the sake of everything I held dear. And yet, to do so meant … I struggled to keep my growing emotions in check.

“... I will expect this to be a marriage,” He informed me after the brief pause, his tone growing harsh, almost angry, “With all things that come with that. Including its consummation.” I did wince now, and internally kicked myself for doing so. “And I will not enter into a marriage where I am required to rape my partner-”

“Enough.” I boldly cut him off again, shaking my head. My voice quivering with my own anger at his vulgar yet casual language regarding such an intimate topic.

He paused again, giving me another moment to take a few deep breaths to calm my nerves. His voice, when he did speak again, was flat, but firm. And I recognized its authoritative nature. I was reminded again why this man, short of all his other faults and no matter his species, was a King of a powerful people.

“Am I wrong, Prince Nikostratus, in my judgement of you?”

I felt as a child, being scolded by their elder, and my throat was dry for that sake alone. I would have to admit it, I realized. I would have to admit it out loud, for the first time in my life. I would have to face a reality I had consigned myself to deny and carry with me to my grave. I was a Prince, after all. And a secondborn Prince at that. I would never have the power or freedom to act as I wanted; I would always be held to the responsibility of my station. The necessities of my kingdom. And despite everything, despite the deep longing I had always held to be able to love whomever I wished… I found my lips faltering to form the words.

Part of me believed it was a trick still. Some long, drawn out plan of humiliation. Of shame. Of deceit meant to ruin my honor and reputation among my people. To expose me to my family. I felt the familiar rage bubbling up inside me, and clenched my jaw in an effort to quell it. All the while, I felt his red eyes still staring at me. Waiting for the answer I had prepared myself never to give.

“... Make no mistake, Your Majesty,” I began slowly, my voice soft but hard, “If there is one thing I am sure of in this world… it is that I love my little sister with every fiber of my being. And I would do everything in my power to protect her from the evils of this world.” Carefully, I raised my gaze to meet his. “Whatever face that may take.” He opened his mouth, but I jerked my hand sharply up to keep him from speaking, lest I lose my nerve. “I understand what I am agreeing to. I understand fully what will be... expected of me. And whatever my… “ I dropped off, struggling to find what I wanted to say. I winced at the first word that came to mind, for I hated it most of all. But spat it out bitterly none-the-less. “... conflictions may be, I enter this contract with full consent. I beg your indulgence that this is enough for you for now.”

I was proud that I never broke eye contact with him as I spoke. His startlingly red eyes watched me unblinkingly, and even as I finished, he stared. Turning my words over in his head. I felt sweat beading at the base of my neck, but maintained his gaze. Stubbornly resisting the urge to turn away or drop my eyes from his.

“If I hear what you’re saying in regards to your people,” He returned finally, and I let out a little gust of air I didn’t know I had been holding, “Then I can hardly blame you for struggling to… accept our situation, such as it is.” He drummed his fingertips on the arm of his chair. “But you are sure? Once we move forward with this contract, there will be no turning back.”

I nodded without hesitation, and I saw his smirk return to the corners of his mouth. “I am sure.”

“You will be King Consort, then,” He replied, picking up his quill again, “As is the custom for my people.” He scribbled a few lines quickly before continuing. “Your authority will be more or less equal to mine, but the difference in title allows for differentiation when referring to us.” His long nose twitched as his smirk returned to its full strength. “Pronouns can be tricky in such situations.”

“...I can imagine” I said dryly, finally letting my gaze drop.

“And since you are sure, perhaps we should move on to the more domestic qualities of the contract, yes? Now, how many children?”

I blinked stupidly, my eyes jumping back up to him in surprise. “...Eh?”

“How many children?” His voice was light and cheery, and I saw the mischievous glint in his eyes that left me quite annoyed. “I’ve always wanted a large family, but I am flexible on the matter.”

“...You’re joking.”

“Hardly.” He twirled the quill again. “As King, I am expected to provide an heir. There are several options available to us, but it is best we make these decisions now. Just to be certain we are on the same page and have the same expectations. It avoids arguments down the line.”

I struggled to keep my composure, and saw his smirk grow by a few molars at the sight. “What… what are the options?”

“Well, we could adopt, of course.” He mused, tapping one long finger against his angular chin. “Or we could hire a surrogate.”

“Surrogate?” I echoed, dumb founded. I had never heard of such a term before.

He nodded, eyes shimmering with delight. “Yes! A female to carry our offspring. Typically of good stock; the screening process is quite vigorous. We can each lay with her and let the die be cast in whatever way it may land. Or, with your consent, I will impregnate her-”

“Wh-whichever.” I blurted quickly, feeling my face growing hot. I hated how easily he managed to keep me off balanced, and each slip of my composure left me feeling guiltier than the last and more determined to maintain it.

“Ah, but then there is of course the magical route.” He continued, almost gleefully ignoring my reaction to the less savory parts of the second option which had the blush rising to my cheekbones despite my efforts.

“The… the what?”

“The magical route.” He repeated, steepling his hands together with a grin. “A simple, temporary spell that allows one of us to impregnate the other and carry our progeny to term-”

“You’re making that up!” I snapped despite myself, feeling my face flush even more.

He pretended to look much more appalled than I was certain he was. “I would never! Producing an heir is a very important matter which I take with the utmost seriousness!”

I struggled again to return to the stoic face of a stately Prince I had perfected over the course of my life. But his words had my thoughts reeling, and I couldn’t help my mouth dropping open slightly. Looking pleased with himself, he stood, walking over to the cart of drinks.

“I am parched. Would you like something? Or I can send for tea if you prefer?”

I managed to close my mouth, staring at the seat he had vacated for a long moment. I heard the clinking of glass, and cleared my suddenly dry throat.

“...Brandy. If you have it.” I rasped, my voice strained.

His laughter was almost melodic, and I heard the continued clinks as he dolled out a second glass. “Excellent choice, my young Prince.” He purred, returning with both drinks in hand. “I see we are a perfect match on that front.”

I took the glass numbly, sniffing the amber liquid instinctually. I was surprised to find it seemed of higher quality, and sipped it experimentally. Grier took his seat once more, crossing one leg over the top of the other.

“Now, which method do you prefer?” He mused, taking a sip from his own glass.

I nearly choked on my second sip, and sputtered momentarily. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye to see his crooked grin. I shook my head, swallowing the burning liquid.

“...Umm, wh-whichever.” I almost winced at the improperness of my stuttering speech, gritting my teeth.

He raised one slender eyebrow, smirking. “Even the third? I hear it is quite the experience.”

I took another hurried sip of the brandy. “...Maybe not that one.”

He laughed again, and I felt my ears burning. I turned, focusing on the fire, watching the flames lick and pop. Trying to ignore the feeling of his eyes on me. Trying to distance myself from the idea of raising children of all things with this creature sat across from me. He’s just trying to get a rise from you, I told myself. Always, constantly. Poking and prodding. Trying to gain the upper hand in negotiations. Amused by my discomfort.

“We’ll write a ‘to be determined’ for now.” He declared, picking up the quill once more. “But we’ll discuss it again later.”

I snuck a peek at him while he wrote, studying him out the corner of my eye. His wild hair fell about his sharp features, and the way the light hit his green-grey skin it seemed almost warm to the eye. I found myself wondering at the thought of spending a life with him. Wondered what it would be like beyond this room. Beyond this evening. I took another steadying sip of brandy, pretending my hand wouldn’t be shaking if it hadn’t held the glass.

“How many then?” He pressed, glancing up at me. “I believe six is a good number. Even, but manageable. Yes?”

I looked down at the amber liquid in my hands. “I-I…” I dropped off, shaking my head, steadying my voice, “I had never thought about it.”

“Why ever not?” He quipped, dipping the tip to scribble another note.

I didn’t answer him, but felt my brow furrow. Of course, the real reason was because I had never expected to be able to choose. Had never expected to be married, and if I was, I would be grateful to be able to conceive at all. My marriage prospects had always been slim; the likelihood was of me being paired with a widowed partner whose late husband’s lands were in dispute, or an elderly monarch whose wealth would be our greatest asset. Whatever would best benefit the Kingdom. It didn’t matter the partner, not like my older brother’s, just what she would bring to the table. Therefore, planning children had simply never really been a thought of mine. And now that it was? I wasn’t sure what to think of it. Had no basis for what I wanted. Had no basis for what would be expected of me as a parent, nor how I would feel being so fully responsible for another life. My lips tightened, and I found myself at a loss for words again.

“Hmmm. Six it is then. But we’ll see where the tides take us when the time comes.” I almost sighed with relief that he let the matter go. A few more soft scratches. “Alright, lovers is next on my list.”

Again, I sputtered, nearly choking on the brandy halfway down my throat. “Lovers??”

He nodded, looking up at me with a coy twist on his thin lips. “Yes. Traditionally, human Kings take lovers I believe. But goblins tend to be monogamous in marriage, unless previously agreed before the ceremony. Do you wish to be allowed to take lovers?”

Again, it was simply not something I had ever considered. Nor had the foggiest notion of how to approach. Certainly it was not a concept boldly discussed in any capacity, regardless of the fact that it was common knowledge. High society dictated such things be carefully and politely ignored. Not discussed over a marriage contract. He waited, tapping his finger against the quill. Watching my face. I swore he was enjoying himself.

I shook my head. “I… I have no desire to…” I cleared my throat, then shook my head again.

He leaned forward, propping his chin on his slender fingers. Coy smirk playing about his lips. “You would remain completely faithful to me?” He purred, looking at me through his pale lashes. “I have no qualms allowing you to take lovers if it would make you more comfortable.”

I snorted faintly, burying it in my glass as I took another sip. As if anything about this conversation was likely to end with me being comfortable. The drink was already almost gone, and I could feel its effects curling tenderly about my insides. Warming my stomach, tickling the edges of my mind. I pretended it was the brandy making my cheekbones and neck flush, rather than the conversation. It was hard to separate the contract from myself when the bastard kept asking such personal questions.

“Monogamous.” I muttered finally, keeping my gaze fixed on my lap, even though it made no sense. My point was clear. After all, if I was going to do this marriage thing, I was going to do it right. Consign myself to my misery. And certainly not give this man any further ammunition against me in the future. Better to go it alone, as I always had.

His faint chuckle had me stiffening, but I pushed aside my discomfort. Reminding myself what this was all for. His quill scratched audibly across the page.

“Alright then, living quarters. Combined or separate?”

I nearly groaned. Another personal question? I ran my thumb over the lip of my glass. “Why is it necessary for that to be in the contract?” I grumbled, barely managing to conceal my irritation with his prying.

He tsked me, taking a deep sip of his own drink before flicking the feather of the quill at me pointedly. “We are embarking on a cross-cultural experiment, my young Prince. It is important all things be discussed. To avoid undue arguments and discontent down the line. No matter how trivial it may seem now.”

I almost snorted again but shook my head instead. “Kings and Queens traditionally have separate quarters.” I mumbled distantly. Would that notion matter in this instance?

“Really?” Breathed Grier, returning the quill to the inkwell and picking up his glass again. “I had heard such, but believed it more a formality than a common practice. How are conjugal visits managed?”

I glanced up at him, trying to discern if he was prying again. Trying to raise my ire. But he seemed genuinely curious, his red eyes sparkling in the firelight. I sighed deeply, raising one hand and rubbing at my brow.

“The Queen usually visits the King’s chambers regularly, until she becomes pregnant.”

“And after?”

I shrugged, raking my brain to remember how it had been between my own parents. “... Once an heir is produced, the visits are… less regular…” Likely because they were merely duty and obligation before. And once the coupling had produced a child? The King could return to his whores and the Queen to whatever her fancies.

He ran his finger over his lip, leaning back in his chair. “How absolutely odd. No wonder your people are so sexually repressed. You never see one another.”

Perhaps it was the now empty glass in my hand. Perhaps it was the fatigue from the long journey, or the emotional stress from the last few hours. But his words made me snort loudly, my facade of stoic calm dropping long enough to let a few short, soft laughs peter from my mouth.

When I looked over at him, he looked surprised. His eyes were wide, his slender brows high. My laughter faded, and I cleared my throat quickly, straightening.

“My apologies, Your Majesty, that was-”

“Please,” He stopped me again, reaching out one hand, “Just Grier. No ’Your Majesty’. And do not apologize.” He grinned, and for the first time, it seemed actually genuine rather than teasing or coy. “I am glad to see you are at least capable of laughter… Though I have yet to see you smile.” His smirk returned, and his eyes became playful. “I am not certain you know how.”

I rolled my eyes slightly, and a small scowl came over my lips. But I found myself not as annoyed as I had been at his teasing. I heard him stand, and his hand gently reached out and took my glass. I felt my heart skip a beat, though I berated myself for the foolishness as he returned to the cart with both.

He held my gaze for a moment too long as he passed me back my refilled glass, and I felt heat creeping up my neck. But I was careful to keep my face a careful mask of stoic indifference. It had been foolish of me to allow him to gain the upper hand thus far in negotiations. To let him put me constantly on edge with trivial questions that had nothing to do with the long term prosperity for my people. I was determined not to allow it to happen again.

Grier took his seat once more, swirling the brandy in his glass and taking a slow sip. Still, he watched me with those startling scarlet eyes. I felt my lips curving into a slight frown, but waited. As King, he should always be the one to speak first. It was not my place to address him unless I was first addressed. Perhaps he knew this, which is why he declined to speak. Instead fixing me with his unnerving gaze. Or, another part of me reasoned, perhaps he did not. Perhaps goblins did not have this custom, and he was waiting for me to speak first. As the guest. In which case, it was disrespectful for me not to speak.

I was still torn, debating which line of etiquette we were following, when he leaned forward in his chair and rested his elbows on his knees. My eyes flicked back to him at the movement, the only hint to my surprise.

“I find I am curious about you, Prince Nikostratus,” He said, sly smirk still dancing about his lips, “In truth, I did not expect you to agree to such an arrangement as this. And when you did, I was certain I would be able to call your bluff quickly.” My grip on my glass tightened, but I remained otherwise unmoved outwardly. “And if we are being completely honest, which I believe we should be, I originally proposed it to force you to trade your little sister for the sake of your own comfort and pride.”

I felt a chill run down my spine at his words, and my eyes narrowed sharply. “My sister?”

His expression faltered at the iciness of my tone, and even his smile shrank a few inches. The goblin quickly raised one hand. “Not for any untoward reason, I can assure you. More to gauge who you are as a person.”

I considered him, my gaze still chilled. A sinking feeling had grabbed hold of my nerves and dragged down the sensation from my fingertips with it. Leaving a tingling numbness slowly spreading through my body.

“Then you do not intend to keep this contract, Your Majesty?”

He chuckled nervously, finally dropping those scarlet eyes in the face of my cold, growing rage. “I feel we have regressed-”

“On the contrary,” I interrupted, eager to exploit his sudden off balanceness as he had so readily exploited mine, “I feel we have finally come to the end.” I started to stand, reaching out to place my glass on the table. “If you are quite done wasting my time, Your Majesty, I will return when you are ready to discuss a real contract for peace, rather than whatever sham you have attempted to ply onto me thus far.”

“This was not any kind of deception-” He jumped to his feet as I stood, quickly skirting over as if to block my path. “Your Highness, please-” I moved to step around him “-Prince Nikostratus!”

I froze, then looked down at him, his hand firmly clamped on my arm. His pronounced brow was knotted, his scarlet eyes narrowed. I found his grip surprisingly strong, despite his diminutive stature. The goblin was about a foot shorter than me, but it was a fact easily forgettable considering the square of his shoulders and the determined way he set his angular jaw.

We stayed like that for a breath, staring at each other. I fixed the King with as cold a glare as I could manage, and I saw him searching my face for a long, quiet moment. I wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but I was careful to keep up my stoney visage to be sure he would never find it.

“I have spoken too brashly,” He interjected finally, his voice soft, “And have thus insulted you… Which was far from my intent.” He gestured with his other hand, back to the arm chairs. “Please, Your Highness, allow me a moment to explain myself.”

I glanced back over my shoulder at the chairs, and my lips pinched tighter together in displeasure at the idea of returning. Disgust rolled in my gut, and I felt bile rising in my throat. But I worked hard to cool my anger. Reminding myself that whatever monster I was dealing with, I had to best him at his game. For everything I had left behind, and for everything that may yet lay before me. And perhaps, for the first time since we had met, I had him on the defense. It might be best to keep him there.

So I gave him a curt nod. “As you wish, Your Majesty.” I agreed stiffly.

He dropped his hand, relief flooding his features. I considered that for a moment as he magnanimously extended his arm. Leading the way back to the armchairs. I stood before mine, but did not sit, instead choosing to cross my arms over my chest. I had been told, due to the athletic tone of my body, that this was a rather imposing gesture on my part. Morgana had once told me it made my arms, chest, and shoulders look twice as big. My advisors had dryly followed up by telling me to never do so, as it hardly left the impression of a stately Prince. More, they said, a warmongering savage. But at that moment, I didn’t care. I wanted to make the goblin King feel small. I wanted him to be fearful and on edge.

I saw his eyes running me up and down, saw his narrow eyebrows twitch. He declined to sit as well, instead choosing to stand and face me with his three fingered hands lightly on his hips.

“When talk of peace between our two Kingdoms first arose,” he began, “I was the one who proposed a union through marriage. I had thought it a sign. My advisors have long been pressing the idea of my marriage, but I had always been hesitant. After all,” He smirked slightly here, “You only get married once.” He straightened, his smirk becoming a frown, “But I was told that your sister would be my prospective partner, as the King’s only daughter. The prospect of marrying a child, for any reason, left me ill at the thought.” He shifted, tucking his hands against the small of his back. “So when I learned of your lack of interest in the fairer sex,” He continued, and I stiffened slightly at the implications, “I was relieved. You are an adult, after all, only a few years my junior, able to consent to the marriage of your own free will. You would understand what the arrangement would entail, and my conscience would rest easy knowing it was a consensual contract.” The shadow of his smirk returned to the corners of his mouth. “Imagine my surprise when I learned that your people would take a direct proposal of this nature as an outright insult! That they would rather I marry a child than a Prince.”

“And yet, Your Majesty, you chose to lay the insult upon me nevertheless.” I mused, my voice still cold. My anger still pounding in my breast.

He raised his hands defensively. “I did not plan to pursue that course of action. Not until I learned it was you yourself who would be coming to the peace negotiations did I see the opportunity to even do so.” He considered me slyly. “I had heard tales of your family, of your pride and snobbery,” He raised his hands again as my eyes flashed, but his voice remained light and teasing, “Though I much preferred an arranged marriage with you, I had assumed I would not find you an appealing match in the least.”

“Your Majesty, if you intend to continue this line of-”

“I put you to a test,” He interrupted, returning his hands to the small of his back, eyes dancing, “It was childish, perhaps, and I will honestly say, I did fully expect you to fail. I proposed the marriage to your sister, to see if you would agree to such an outrageous pairing. Then I offered you an alternative.”

I considered him quietly, mulling over his words. I thought about speaking then, in the silence he let settle about us. But I decided to wait to see if he had more to say. Though it seemed less a defense of his behavior thus far and more of a confession. So I waited, eyes slightly narrowed, arms still crossed over my chest.

“... So you see, I expected you to offer your sister to me, rather than risk your own image and honor. As I said before.” He paused briefly, and his head cocked ever so slightly to the side. “... But you surprised me.”

I gritted my teeth, scowling at him. “I am afraid, Your Majesty, that your so-called honesty has only confirmed my understanding that you were simply stringing me along. Intending to dishonor and embarrass me without any intent of-”

“I have every intent-” He interrupted me again “-Of marrying you. I always have.”

That made my breath catch in my throat, and my composure slipped ever so slightly around my eyes as they widened. I quickly reset my features, swallowing the lump forming in my throat.

He watched quietly, then gestured again to the chair. “Please, let us return to our negotiations. If we can move past this strife… For the good of our people, if nothing else.”

I hesitated, watching him sit as if the matter had been settled. There was still a question burning on my lips, but I was not certain I could continue on with any semblance of a level head if I knew the answer. For that reason, I chose not to ask it; not yet at least. I gritted my teeth again, studying him as he waited patiently, gazing up at me with those scarlet eyes.

“Your Majesty, If I find this is some long winded prank-”

“It is not.” He promised, then smiled his coy, teasing smile. “And please call me Grier, I beg of you. I cannot suffer the titles and formalities much longer than I absolutely must.”

I glanced back at the waiting armchair, at the abandoned glass of brandy. “What assurance do I have that it is not?”

Grier lifted one long, slender finger, tapping his lips thoughtfully. “We shall put it in the document, if it would set your mind at ease.” He declared, reaching out and picking up the quill once more. “Should it be discovered that either party entered this marriage contract under false pretenses, it shall immediately become null and void, and the offending party shall secede to the ruling authority of the other.” He ended the sentence on the page with a fancy flourish of the quill tip, and raised one brow at me. “Is that satisfactory?”

I resisted the urge to give him an un-princely grumble, and settled for a scowl instead. But I did return to my seat, slowly, stiffly, and after a moment reached for my glass.

“I believe we should discuss the ceremony itself.” He proposed tentatively, watching me through his pale lashes as he took another sip of his own brandy. “To be certain it is official and legally binding for both species.”

I swallowed my sigh, and gave a small nod. “As you wish.”

The goblin did not continue right away, cocking his head to the side again and studying me as he took a deep, slow sip of his drink. I waited, rolling my own glass distractedly against my palms. It was smooth, and cool to the touch. Almost as soothing as the liquid it held.

“But perhaps we can leave that for a later date.” I glanced over at him, and he flashed me a charming smile of pointed teeth. “I would like to hear what additions to the contract you would like to discuss first.”

I took a sip of the brandy, nodding much more resolutely. “Very well. The taxes levied on the people-”

He waved his hand, cutting me off. “No, no.” He sat forward in his chair. “Let the understudies and scribes deal with such tedious ticks. We will review them before the formal signing, but need not discuss the specifics ourselves.”

I frowned. “I beg your pardon, I thought you wished to discuss my additions…. What other addendum would you mean to discuss?”

Grier sighed deeply, and his lips twitched with amusement. “Those of a more personal nature, of course.” He swirled his brandy with a deft wrist. “We discussed those issues I felt might arise through the course of our marriage; children, lovers, living arrangements. You must have your own expectations for this union as well. Something to put in ink.”

I stiffened, and my gaze snapped down to the drink in my hands. “... I do not.”

He scoffed, waving his hand again. “Come now, there must be something. Summer castles, hunting trips, gifts, anniversaries, retirement plans. Perhaps religious beliefs? Dietary requirements?” I shook my head, and he rolled his eyes teasingly. “You must have some thoughts or plans for the remainder of your life.”

I took another sip of the brandy, letting it sit in my mouth for a moment before slowly swallowing it. “... I have no expectations.”

That set a deafening silence upon the cluttered room, and we sat in it for an extended period. Grier watched me, and I watched the flames flickering in the fireplace. Keeping my stoney expression flat and void. I forced all other thoughts from my mind to keep them from my face. As I had been taught and perfected through a lifetime of necessity.

“... It is late.” The goblin replied finally, clearing his throat and shuffling the parchment on his lap. “Undoubtedly it has been a long day. If you are agreeable, I will take you to our guest quarters for the evening so you may rest.”

I looked at the papers he placed upon the marble table. “The contract-”

“Will be there in the morning, when we are both more rested and fresh.” He finished, tossing his head back to drain the last of his glass and standing.

I followed suit, brushing my hands down my abdomen to smooth the starchy fabric there. He gestured to me as he moved towards the door, and the weariness of the day dragged at my shoulders. I found I had not the strength to argue further, and simply fell in step behind him as he pulled open the grand door and stepped back out into the hall.

I had never had a head for floorplans or layouts, and the twists and turns he led me down quickly became jumbled in my tired mind. Give me a war field with troops and battalions and I could coordinate and execute the most stunning and creative of maneuvers. Place me in a castle hall and give me directions to the kitchen and I would get lost. So I stayed at his mercy, allowing him to lead me deeper into his underground castle until we came before a set of old wooden doors.

“Here we are.” He exclaimed, halting and turning to face me. I stopped short to avoid running into his smaller frame. Sharp teeth grinned up at me. “You should find everything you need here. And I shall have an attendant at the door, should you find you require anything additional.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty-” I noticed his brow twitch slightly at the title, and I quickly clamped my mouth shut over the last syllable.

I saw him hesitate, glancing at the door, then back to me. I sensed there was more, and waited patiently. Even though my palms itched to open the door and have the peace of my own company. Even though my spine ached from holding so straight and perfect for so many long hours. I was well versed in patience; in serving the will of another at the expense of my own. So I waited.

“I would request your presence for breakfast.” He said, cupping his hands behind his back. “... Socially. For the pleasure of your company and to get to know you better, if you are willing.” Now it was my turn to hesitate, my breath catching in my throat. “You may decline, if you wish.” He added quickly. “I do not mind sending your meal to your rooms, then we may speak later to complete the final details of the marriage contract.”

My besotted mind could not quite fathom the full extent of the offer, and I belittled a sigh that managed to sneak out with a soft gust from my nose. My lips pursed, I nodded to the Goblin King, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck prickle even as I did.

“Of course, Your-.... Ehm…” I cleared my throat, then looked down at the floor. “Of course… Grier.”

His name tasted strange on my tongue, and felt wrong to say. But the way he beamed up at me with delight made heat scratch at the edge of my collar. I shifted my weight slightly, glancing back at the stone floor.

“Excellent! I will see you in the morning then, Prince Nikostratus.”

...

UPDATE: Part two HERE

#mxm #oc #Royal Flush #monster x human #monster lover #monster boyfriend #monster husband #slow burn #two kings #monster romance #terato #exophilia #goblin #goblin lover #goblin boyfriend #goblin husband #arranged marriage #monster royalty

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lvebug · 1 year ago

Text

a thought occurs to her, buried so deep under years of hiding and instinct, that she can unmask right now. even the playing field. show that even knowing who this is and what he's done, that she trusts the part of him who is her friend.

he offered her an escape as lovebug. it was a shock to hear from the green goblin, but knowing harry—that part's not a shock. harry is good and generous and she knows he doesn't want to hurt people. so what is he doing here?

and then he says her name.

her eyes blow wide in the mask. you knew? rings helplessly in her head. how long? did he know when he tied her down and tried to draw blood? when she saved his life?

different thoughts are warring in her head. the idea that she knows harry and trusts him, trusts what's in his heart. his passion for the environment, his genuine desire to help not just at FEAST, but the world, his determination to use science for good. she's gotten to know him through FEAST and doesn't believe that everything she's come to understand about him is an act. but there's a part of her that wonders can she trust that? has he been lying the whole time about... everything? knowing exactly what part to play to make her like him, make her trust him?

she refuses to give into that part of herself. her business is hope and trust and faith. every day she believes in strangers to be their best selves, she goes up against villains trusting that there is a part of them that is good. that's no different for harry. she's choosing to trust him.

he offers her another escape now as andie. but even now, she doesn't want to never see him again. there's a story here and she wants to hear it. whatever happened here, maybe she can—help. that's what friends are for and harry is still her friend.

"i can't do that. im not going to- to abandon you to this." it's like she's pleading once again, voice emphatic and loud compared to his tired, resigned offer to leave. but she's desperate here to understand because that's still what's happening. she's still not understanding. right in the center of this whole situation is one glaring empty space where she's missing the puzzle piece that explains everything before her. why harry is the green goblin, why he needed her blood, who the truth of him is if he's willing to do all this but still willing to risk everything to let her live. "just- tell me why?"

She stops, and it should make it all easier. It doesn't.

Harry has never once ended a life, and doesn't want this to be the one time he does. That's a line he doesn't want to cross, to the detriment of the dozen many other terrible lines he has indeed crossed already. And much less when he owes her his life.

He's known since he donned that mask that if he was ever recognized, he'd have to make hard choices. And he knows he must, now, because if he doesn't kill her, she will hold over him the secret that could land him in the Raft. And that would spell his death.

He once again wonders who she is, as he lands from the glider, regarding her with sheer focus, desperately hoping an idea will come to his mind. A solution, no matter how dangerous. Worse, her voice remains familiar, as he stalks towards her one step, then a second.

Then she speaks his name, and it's like a slap to the face. He does not freeze, not with the serum screaming in his ears, but it's still a close call. Because he knows that voice.

There are precious few people Harry has come to trust, to consider friends. He has thousands of acquaintances, but friends? Less than a handful. He cannot afford aught else, not with the life he leads, and the secrets he wields. Secrets that he would even use, if needed, to protect them.

He kidnapped Andie, he realizes. He kidnapped her and now he just threatened her life and has hurt her so many times. And meanwhile, she risked her life to find him and save him.

He halts, and regards her, and when the turmoil, the shame and the anger are too much, he clenches his teeth, looks away for a moment.

"Go, Andie." He offers her, his tone almost as tired as he feels. "Leave. If you never speak of this, neither will I, and you won't have to ever see me again in person."

It's all he can do, all he can give her. A risk, and a reckless one, against all his instincts and logic and common sense... but he knows he stands before a line, and he doesn't want to cross it. He doesn't want to be the kind of person who values his life over a friend's. And she deserves better, but it's all he can offer. A secret for a secret.

#inhcritance #AIN'T NOBODY IN THIS ROOM ALONE — threads #START GAME: LOVE BITE DLC — insomniac verse

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heart-eye-harrington · 5 years ago

Text

gwen stacy

Summary: Steve always hated how Spider-Man couldn’t save Gwen Stacy, but what will he do differently when put in the same situation?

Word count: 6.3k

Warnings: Mild swearing, brief mentions of blood/injury, my not 100% accurate retelling of Spider-Man lure

A/N: Hi! I’ve loved this concept for so long that I really wanted to write it! It’s a bit lengthy but didn’t feel right to break it up. Let me know what you think! okay hope you have a good day, i love youuuuuuuu

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Peter Parker - the nerdy wallflower with a heart of gold. Greatness was thrust upon poor Peter when he was bitten by that radioactive spider. But what did he do with this greatness? Did he use it for his own benefit? No. He used his powers to help others, to protect the neighborhood, to look out for the little guy. He fought the evil in the world as one of the greatest heroes of all, but came home and was back to reality as plain Peter Parker again. There was still a boy under the mask; and a girl who loved him, with and without it on. He’d save the city, save civilians, and he’d save the girl; consistently proving that good would overcome evil and be rewarded. But that wasn’t always the case in life, even for Spider-Man. The fight started like many others, the bad guy had taken Spider-Man’s girlfriend and put her in the middle of the fight to slow Spider-Man’s attacks and distract him. Both powers found themselves falling into the routine brawl, until Green Goblin pushed Gwen Stacy from the top of the Brooklyn Bridge. Spider-Man shot a web in a desperate attempt to save her from the fall. Despite his efforts, she died, snapping her neck from the sudden shock. A deafening snap heard, dashing all hopes of her survival. Good had lost. Peter lost his first true love. Gwen was gone despite it all.

The story of Gwen Stacy always infuriated Steve. When he was young and read the comic he was baffled. How could Spider-Man let that happen? He could save everyone and still lose one of the most important people in his life. It just wasn’t fair. Steve swore he would never let that happen to him, he would fight harder than anyone, even Spider-Man, for those he loved.

As he got older, the childhood vow drifted to the back of his head. King Steve took its place. Basketball, girls, and kegs took its place. He was your average teen, prioritizing what you think will help you fit in and make you likable.

His vow resurfaced when he found Nancy at the Byer’s house that November night. Carol and Tommy struck a match when they struck a nerve.

Tommy tossed him a coke, letting him knew he owed him a buck fifty. Steve scoffed, because of course Tommy couldn’t just get him something without having to pay him back. Steve places the can to his injured eye, savoring the cool on his skin. The thumping in his head disappears for just a moment before being replaced with another, Carol and Tommy’s cruel jokes. Normally Steve would nod and laugh along, but this time something felt different. He really listened this time, to their claims that Jonathan killed his brother, that Nancy was a slut, and it just rubbed him the wrong way. It was as if they held a match, and he was the striker paper. They had rubbed so many times but this was the moment the match caught aflame.

“Carol, for one in your life can you shut your damn mouth?” Steve was shocked at the ease of his outburst, but not ashamed of it. It felt like a weight lifted off his shoulders. It felt good to get them to stop for once.

“Hey, what’s your problem man?” Tommy demanded, he and Carol both taken aback at his sudden opposition. But the fire was burning and Steve had no intention of extinguishing it.

“You’re both assholes, that’s my problem.” He saw he had befriended the heartless villains he swore to defeat, and worse, allowed himself to fall under their influences. He had to get as far away from them as possible and get back to the good in his life. He realized he needed to fight for good again, and that meant fixing his screw up with Nancy. She might be his Gwen Stacy, and he couldn’t sit back and watch as she slipped through his fingers. He messed up, and had to make things right. So he hopped in his car and sped off to his first crime of the day. After a few hours of scrubbing the paint on the marquee and volunteering to help with other odd jobs at the theatre, he sank into the driver’s seat and sighed. He knew what his next step needed to be, but just because you have a plan doesn’t make it easy. He turned the key, flicked on his headlights and headed to the Byer’s house. Tommy’s words echoing in his head, fueling the fire.

“That’s right! Run away Stevie boy! Run away! Just like you always do! That’s right Harrington!

Run away!”

While Carol and Tommy may have struck the match, seeing the flickering lights inside the Byer’s house poured gasoline on the small fire in him. It burned through and melted the hard outer shell he had developed, and exposed the hero his younger self always thought he was inside. The brave boy who fought to protect those he loved. He ran into the house and helped Nancy and Jonathan. After that night, he became his very own Spider-Man.

Time passed, but that night stayed with him. He kept his younger self in his mind more prominently. He did his best to be the best boyfriend he could be to Nancy, because that’s what she deserved. He did what he could for her, helping her with Barb and reminding her that none of what happened was her fault. Despite his best efforts, she slipped out of his grasp. Maybe it was all bullshit, but damn if he wouldn’t fight for her. He did fight, but not how he imagined. He had to grab his bat again and battle extra-dimensional creatures to protect kids he barely knew. He had a responsibility to protect them, something he quickly accepted and even embraced. He was their hero, fighting the monsters and evil. But, a reward didn’t come in the end. Nancy wasn’t his. He realized she never truly was. It took a while, but he accepted it, came to terms that his first love may have never loved him back, but that’s ok. She’s happy now and that’s all he could wish for her. With the gate to the Upside Down closed, his hero mask was hung up and bat hidden behind old clothes in his closet. Life went on. He graduated high school and got a summer job. Scoops Ahoy wasn’t a part of his ideal hero’s journey, but it paid the bills.

🕸

The last few cords of Queen’s Radio Gaga flow through the summer air before Steve turns the key, turning off his car. His chest rises and dramatically falls for no one but himself to see. He mustered up his energy before stepping out of his car. He blinked in the summer sunshine, taking a moment to enjoy how it warms his skin before being trapped in a prison of florescent lights for the next few hours. He drags his feet the entirety of the parking lot before reaching the doors. He adjusts the bag on his back containing his stupid sailor outfit as he makes his way to Scoops. He enters the ice cream parlor and heads to the back room. Just as he’s about to reach the door, it slams open in his face. Pain rushes to his nose and he’s doubled over, clutching it as a few choice words fall from his lips. The open door reveals you, grasping your own face in shock. You kneel down beside Steve, one hand delicately on his shoulder, not sure exactly what to do but wanting to comfort and help him.

“Oh my God I am so sorry!” your voice coming across breathless in your startled state. Steve lifts his head just enough to let his eyes catch yours. There’s a moment of silence where you’re searching each other’s faces. Something washes over you, but you weren’t sure what it was yet. He sees your worry and distress and can’t help but feel sorry for you.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I’ve been knocked in the head so many times, this is nothing.” he chuckles, but his words didn’t put your guilt at ease.

“Please, let me help you. I know first aid.” Steve can’t find himself to say no, letting you guide him into the backroom to fuss over him. You lead him to the small table, guiding him to sit. As soon as you’re satisfied that he’s comfortable, you turn your back and scramble to get the supplies for his bleeding and probably bruised nose. He didn’t need to be coddled his much, but part of him enjoyed it. A small smile sneaks onto his face as you run a cloth under cold water, the first-aid kit tucked under your arm. You pull up a seat next to him, a serious and concerned look in your eyes. You lightly remove his hand from his nose and place a hand under his chin, turning his head better assessing the damage.

“Do you feel any blood going down your throat?”

“No”

“Good. Then it’s only an anterior bleed. Posterior bleeds are typical for people who have had head injuries in the past and are a bit more serious. I was worried after you said you’ve gotten hit a few times in the past. I’m just gonna put the cold cloth over your nose, can you pinch it? You should be fine after about 10 minutes” You eyes examine his face to see if he understands, and can’t help but blush at sudden realization at how close you are.

“You weren’t kidding when you said you’re trained in first aid” his laugh is a bit nasally considering his plugged nose, causing your laugh to shake your chest a bit harder.

“What can I say? I thought it would be good with all the babysitting I did. But the kid I watched doesn’t need a sitter anymore, so here I can scooping ice cream.”

“Well, I guess this is one way to be introduced to your co-worker”

“What can I say? I make a strong first impression.” You chuckle, but it’s short-lived as guilt pools in your gut. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Look, it’s fine, you fixed me up. So, what’s my nurse’s name so I may properly thank them?” He extends his free hand, an olive branch. A playful smirk plays your lips, giving him your name and a proper handshake.

From that moment on, there was an unspoken bond between the two of you, and you looked out for one another. Steve felt a sense of protectiveness over you, to make sure you were ok. It was always little things like making sure you took your breaks, shooting mean looks at creepy customers, or slipping you a banana when he knew you hadn’t eaten in a while. You’d do the same for him, telling Robin to give him a break after an exceptionally terrible attempt at getting a date or packing doubles of your lunch for him after seeing him eat smushed PB & J’s for the millionth time in a row.

“Aww, did your mommy pack you apple slices? How cute.” Robin’s joking condescending tone brought a grin to both her and Steve’s faces.

“No, they did.” He gestures to the counter where you stood scooping ice cream while your coworkers took a quick break. It was slow, so you volunteered to ‘man the ship’ so Steve and Robin could sit in the back room. They both peered at you through the crack Steve left in the sliding window. You were patiently listening to a little girl stumble through her order, sending her reassuring nods and smiles. You radiate positive energy like the sun, washing everything you touched in a warm light. Even from the brief interaction little girl felt it, Robin felt it, but Steve felt it most of all. The simplest actions would cause warmth to spread through his chest, occasionally rising to his checks if he thought about it too much.

“Earth to Romeo, you’re staring” Robin’s words pull Steve from his trace, the familiar warmth amplified by her words. He ducks his head in a vain attempt to hide it, but he knows nothing gets past Robin. She glances back to you, oblivious to the situation happening behind you. She shakes her head and chuckles, deciding it would be more fun to watch the former king of Hawkins fumble over a girl than call him out. So she simply stands, giving him a small pat on the shoulder on her way out the swinging door open to join you at the counter. She gives you a hip bump, drawing a laugh, and sending Steve back into his trance.

“So, how’s the ship sailor?”

“She’s in tip-top shape captain,” you tell Robin, saluting her and sending the two of you into giggles. You take a second to relish the moment. You would have never thought a summer job would give you two of your best friends. You’ve never laughed as hard as you did when at the ice cream parlor. You’re drawn from your thought when the bell on the counter rings. You turn to see three young teens staring intently at you.

“Is Steve here?” the boy with black hair and pale skin asks.

“He’s in the back on break. You guys ok?” you ask, seeing the discomfort on the youngest’s face

“Will scrapped his knee on the bike ride over and we just need a band-aid” the third boy, who you later learned was named Lucas responded, pointing to the youngest boy, whose name you learned was Will.

“I can help you out! Come on.” You gesture for the three to follow you into the break room. You get Will to sit, and you squat before him and examine the injury. It doesn’t look bad at all, but there’s probably some dirt in the scrape. Your eyebrows knit together as you think of what to do, making sure to wipe them away before meeting Will’s eyes.

“I’m gonna get some hydrogen peroxide, just be sure it’s clean. We’ll get a band-aid on it and you’ll be good as gold.” Will’s expression relaxes from your comforting words. You rub his arm before going to grab the first aid kit. You hear Steve making small talk with the boys, asking them about what they’ve been up to and when Dustin will be back from camp. You feel your heart flutter at the tone the boys use, all so comfortable with each other. Hearing how good Steve is with them almost makes you sigh with joy. You turn back to Will, supplies in hand. You make sure you’re quick with your work, knowing the hydrogen peroxide doesn’t exactly tickle. Smoothing out the band-aid on his knee, you give a content exhale at your handiwork.

“There, all better. But you know what makes everything better? Ice cream! You guys want some?” the three teens cheer, which you take as a yes. You share a look with Steve, neither able to deny the joy they boys spread. You bring them to the front, give them their orders, with a little extra for Will, and send them on their way. You smile to yourself seeing the three joke around, and can’t help but wonder what adventures they’d get into. Little did you know you were about to be sucked into an adventure of your own.

“TOUCH MY BUTT I DON’T CARE!!!”

“Uh, Robin? What’s doing on?” You timidly ask, taking slow steps into the backroom.

“I’m gone for two days and suddenly this is happening?” you gesture to Steve pushing a kid’s butt into the air vent.

“Yeah, it’s a long story” Robin chuckles and her eyes remain glued on the scene playing out in front of her.

After Steve and the boy, who introduces himself as Dustin, get down from the vent, the trio fills you in on what happened.

“You guys are crazy. Really? Russians in Hawkins? Why?” You cross your arms in disbelief. Do they really think you’re that gullible? Well, apparently you are.

“We don’t know, but we have to find out,” Dustin explains. You lean back, curiosity getting the best of you. Here goes nothing.

“Ok, I’m in. What’s the plan?” you lock eyes with Steve, sending him a small nod. That’s the moment the seed of doubt was planted in his mind. Deja vu flooded through his veins, making this body tingle. He had no idea how big this thing was. What is there really were evil Russians? What if people got hurt? What could he do to keep people safe? He wasn’t sure, but he knew he was willing to do whatever it takes to make sure you all made it out okay.

He kept his vow the best he could. When trapped in the elevator, he stayed up all night trying to find a way out. He lead the group around the base, making sure he was in front, the first line of defense. Seeing the guard in the communications room sent him into overdrive, charging and taking him out. He cleared as many obstacles as he could to leave a clear path for you all to follow. He did all he could until he was cornered.

The Russians banged on the door after chasing the group into a room. He screamed for the kids to run, to just go. In his efforts to save the kids he forgot about you and Robin beside him holding the door. It all happened so fast. The floorboard closed atop Dustin and the door behind him flew opened, pushing him, Robin, and you to the floor. That’s when time stood still. His breath hitched in this throat as his hands came up in surrender. The guards took you first, kicking and screaming in a last-ditch attempt to break free. When you turn to see your coworkers, tears streaming down your face, your gaze holds Steve’s in a vice grip. His heart shatters at the fear in your eyes and worse, the pleading. Before he can react, the metal door closes with a deafening thud.

He’s taken next, and the interrogation is hell. Yeah, the punches hurt, but they replaced the ache in his chest with another. He took it all he could until he couldn’t, succumbing to the pain. When he finally came back to, he hears Robin’s yelling and feels the vibrations from behind him. He only has the energy to stare at his lap, before he sees a yellow sneaker out of the corner of his eye. A familiar warmth fills his chest, the same one he felt anytime he saw them. They carried you throughout the store, often skipping or dancing to the beat of whatever song you had stuck in your head that day. He musters up whatever strength he has to follow the line of your body. There you are, eyes closed and body sprawled on the floor. Fear flashes through him until he sees your chest slowly rise and fall. You look unharmed, further comforting him. He didn’t fail. You were all still safe. The relief wasn’t long-lived, as a familiar fire made a home in Steve’s chest. He was going to fight tooth and nail to make sure you all made it out, he couldn’t lose anyone.

Erica and Dustin were able to rescue the three of you and get you out of the base. They sat you three in a movie while they got help. Steve and Robin went to get water while you stayed in the movie, too freaked out to leave. You rejoined the group when the movie was over, eager to leave Star Court. Your dreams were dashed when you saw the Russians checking the moviegoers. Steve’s first reaction is to grab your hand, dragging you out of your daze and away from the evil. You stumble over your own feet as you run, still not fully aware of what’s going on. It wasn’t until you saw their guns that the panic made its way to your legs, carrying you faster and closer to Steve. The five of you hide under the counter of Great Cookie, ragged breathing echoing in your ears. You wrap your arms around Steve’s bicep, clinging to him and burying your face in his shoulder, desperate for any comfort he can provide. You focus on his breathing, familiar scent of hairspray, vanilla and cologne, and the comforting heat of his skin. His free hand comes up to clutch your head, doing whatever he can to keep you close to him. The steps get closer and you squeeze your eyes shut, bracing for the worst. But it never comes. A loud honking and the crunching of metal filled the air instead of bullets. You lift your head to share a puzzled and relieved look with Steve. You take a moment to enjoy the closeness before turning to look above him, only to find find a group on the balcony. You recognize some of the faces, but not all.

While the drugs had worn off, you still felt like your head was whirling when you learned a girl flipped a car with her mind. The group obviously knew more than you did and you did your best to quickly absorb as much information as you could. In your whirlwind, you notice El stumble away from the group. You begin to follow her as she covers her ears.

“Hey, are you ok?” the second the question leaves your lips, she hits the floor. The group all turn their attention to her and you run to comfort her. You reach her first, kneeling beside her and fanning her face.

“My leg, my leg” she whimpers, pain evident in every muscle of her body. Someone unwraps the makeshift binding on her leg to reveal what looks to be an infected cut. Your suspicions are beyond confirmed when something begins moving under her skin. Training kicking in, you know what has to be done.

“Hey, someone grab a knife from the Chinese restaurant and heat it up to disinfect it. Grab something for her to bite. Get gloves too! Quick, please!” You do your best to remain calm for the girl, but need to relay the urgency everyone knows is needed. After seeing Jonathan run in the direction, you turn back to El.

“Hey, everything’s gonna be fine. You’re doing good. Just keep talking to us ok? Deep breaths.” She nods, sobbing as she waits for Jonathan to come back. You feel a hand on your back, turning to see Steve right behind you giving you a reassuring nod. He squats next to you, now putting his hands on your shoulders. It was like a chain of support, him for you, you for El. Jonathan comes back and does his best to get whatever it is out of her, but she insists on doing it herself. Everyone winces as they watch, you included, and you burry you head into Steve’s chest as he holds you close. You hear glass shatter and flinch closer into him. Everything’s silent for a moment, and you lift your head to see the chief of police, Mrs. Byer’s, and someone else. You look to Steve with bewilderment, and all he can do is shrug. He helps you up and the now larger group convenes. You’re mentally exhausted, once again finding yourself hanging off of Steve as you take everything in. You put together the pieces from the three groups and it makes just enough sense for you to follow along.

Once a plan was made, you see Robin eating out of the corner of your eye. You nudge Steve, a silent invitation to follow you. Robin throws you both something to have. You didn’t realize how hungry you were till you tucked in. It was the first moment of normalcy you’ve had in a while, and you savored every last second of it. It was just like the three of you in the breakroom, laughing, joking, being normal teens. Dustin runs over, excitedly holding car keys.

“Guess who got us a ride?” He beams. Steve gives him a puzzled look.

“Where are we going?”

“We have to go to the radio tower I set up. They need us to navigate them around the base to close the gate.”

“Okay, but what about El?” you question. She still looked to be in pretty bad shape, and you knew you were her best bet if her leg started causing her trouble again. A wound like that could easily reopen.

“They’re going back to Murry’s, and Hopper wants you to stay with El. Will told him about how you helped him that day in the mall, and he wants you to look after her. ” Dustin informs you. You nod,

“Ok, tell him I’ll go with her.” You say, Dustin nodding and running off the tell Hopper. Steve looks at you for a moment, realizing what you’re doing. For the first time in days, you won’t be at his side. He won’t be able to make sure you’re ok, and it scares him.

“Hey, don’t you think you should come with us?” he pleads, gently rubbing up and down your arm. You sigh, wanting so badly to give in and go with him, to follow him where ever he goes, but knowing you’re needed somewhere else.

“I’ll be ok. Don’t worry about me.” you send him a sympathetic smile, trying your best to convince him and yourself. Deep down you were terrified to be away from him, but you both had obligations now. You had but put your own interests aside and do what was best for the collective good.

“Promise?” Steve’s voice sounded as if it would break. In a spur of confidence, you cup his face in your hands.

“I promise, Steve.” There’s a gleam in your eyes, and Steve takes his hand from your arm and places it over yours.

Dustin returns, throwing the cars at Steve and basically dragging him away. Steve’s eyes stay on yours as you send a gentle wave to the group. You watch your friends until they round the corner, and sink into yourself. Your safety net was going to be driving far away, and taking your heart with it. You shake your head, clearing the thoughts like an etch a sketch. You make your way over to El, wrapping one of her arms around your neck as the group makes their way out of the mall. She groans and you can see she’s losing more blood.

“Hey, once we get in the car I’ll take another look at it, okay?” all she can do is nod. You situated the two of you in the back of the car and hear the engine sputter. You overhear Nancy and Jonathan say the ignition cable is missing. Before you know it Billy is revving his engine across the lot. You scrabble to get the kids out of the car and back into the mall. Once back inside, you lay El down and redress her wound. It’s not as bad as you thought it would be, but you know your efforts are helping. You reassure her that she’ll be fine and properly fixed up soon enough

In the distance you hear Mike calling to the “Scoops Troop”, and while in any other circumstance you would laugh at the name, you silently pray that they hear you and rescue you. While you were one who could normally save themselves, you were never trapped in a mall by a possessed Billy. Just as things were starting to look up, you notice Max and Mike looking up at something. Mike screams for his sister as the monster breaks through the mall ceiling. You grab Mike Max and El and hide under a food stand. You pull the three as close to you as possible and shut your eyes, a single tear streaming down your face.

From the radio tower, Steve can’t stop pacing. He knows that something’s wrong and it’s eating him alive. It’s like he has a sixth sense and it’s going haywire. His mind is going through every bad possibility. What if you got into a car accident on the way? What if the Russians were waiting at the secret safe house? What is none of this would work? He rakes his fingers through his hair in an effort to self-sooth. He looks to the mall and sees the lights flickering. He’s taken back that November night outside the Byer’s. Fear’s icy grip takes hold of his legs, freezing him in place. He hears Dustin to your group over the radio. After the first call goes unanswered he’s on edge. After the second he’s panicking. After the third is answered with a monster’s screeching, he’s near hysterics. Before his mind can keep up with his legs, he’s running down the hill. He had to get you guys out of there. He barely hears Robin’s labored breathing behind him as they both scramble to the car. A fire is burning inside him and he was prepared to fight like hell.

In the mall, you’re shaking, holding onto the kids like your life depended on it. You barely knew them but felt a responsibility to protect them. Mike wiggles out of your grip to peer over the stand. He hatches an escape plan to go up the stairs. Max reminds him that El is in no condition to do that, to which you nod and agree. That’s when you remember the way through the Gap. The four of you make a mad dash, you clutching El and giving her quiet reinforcement as she hobbles. Someone knocks something over in your haste, alerting the monster to your location. You once again scamble the kids under a counter and shield them with your body. The mind flayer gets distracted, and you guide the kids from the store.

As Steve turns into the Star Court parking lot, his adrenaline is thumping in his ears. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but Nancy shooting at a car charging at her full speed was not it. His knuckles turn white as he grips the wheel, speeding full force into the other car, causing both to spin out. He catches his breath, looking over to make sure Robin is ok. He lifts his eyes to see the Mind Flayer crawl along the mall roof. Nancy pulls up next to them, telling them to get in. For once he wanted things to slow down, but they’re being chased by the fleshy monster. As soon as it turns around, he thinks to take survey of the car. When he sees fewer people than he’s expecting, he’s near tears.

“Where are the others?” His voice is barely above a whisper, as if he doesn’t want anyone to hear and confirm his worst fear.

“Where are the others?” Robin echos his question, but loud enough for the whole car to hear. All Jonathan and Nancy can do is exchange concerned looks. Steve’s hands fly to his hair, unable to process what is going on. You’re not there, which means you’re back in the mall with that thing and Billy.

“Drive!” He screams, unable to do anything else. Words echo in his head “That’s right! Run away Stevie boy! Run away! Just like you always do! That’s right Harrington!

Run away!”

He wasn’t gonna run away this time.

“You’ve got this El. You’re so strong, you’re such a fighter.” You reassure her as the four of you make your way out of the mall. Just as the cool night air hit you, you see Billy emerge from his car.

“Shit” you whisper, directing the kids back into StarCourt. You follow close behind, acting as a buffer between them and Billy. Mike finds an elevator and desperately tries to push the buttons to get you away from your stalker. You hear the metal door open and know he’s right behind you. Before you can do anything, Max tries to talk to him, but he slams her against the wall. He turns his attention to you, Mike, and El. You push the two behind you, trying in vain to hide them from him.

“Billy. Please. They’re just kids. Please don’t do this.” He stares straight into your eyes and yet past you. Next thing you know he grabs your head and throws you into the wall.

As soon as the car stops outside the mall, Steve charges in as quickly as he can. He’s got tunnel vision and finds himself on the balcony with Robin and the fireworks. He looks down just in time to see you run out of scoops. You stop a moment and look up, locking eyes with Steve. A shiver runs down his spine. You avert your gaze to El laying on the floor, motionless and seemingly unaware of the huge monster crawling toward her. You rush to her side in an attempt to pull her away, but Billy intercepts you.

It was a routine fight that started like many others

Steve grabs a firework and throws it as hard as he can, hitting the flesh monster and making it cry out in pain. He’s doing everything in his power to distract Billy and the Mind Flayer. The fire inside him burning so hot he can feel in on his skin.

The bad guy had taken Spider-Man’s girlfriend and put her in the middle of the fight to slow Spider-Man’s attacks and distract him.

Billy grabs you by the neck, lifting you into the air, choking you. You kick at him and scratch at his hands, tear streaming down your face. You give breathless pleas, but know it’s no use. His grip is too strong. He won’t stop

Spider-Man shot a web in a desperate attempt to save her.

“ROBIN! I NEED MORE!” Steve held his hand back, awaiting the reload of him ammunition. He was gonna hit that son of a bitch with everything he had. The now-familiar weight fell into his hand, and he launched the firework through the air. He swore he threw his arm out but he didn’t care. He was gonna fight harder than anyone. The fire had made its way to his eyes, burning so hot tears streamed down his face. He saw the monster flinch. It was working, it would all be over soon. His arm hurt so much but he wouldn’t stop

Despite his efforts, a deafening snap was heard, dashing all hopes of her survival.

Billy mirrored the monster’s pain, twitching with each impact from the fireworks. He let go of you. You fell to the ground with a deafening thump. Steve felt his entire body go numb. A heartwrenching scream raked through his body. It was a cry that could make anyone grasp their chest as if the pain shot like shards through the air.

Good had lost. Peter lost his first true love. Gwen was gone despite it all.

From somewhere behind him he hears Robin over the radio tell Dustin they’re out of time. Boy, ain’t that the truth. He closes his eyes and remembers. Remember the first time you met, and hand coming to feel the bump on his nose. He remembers how alive you were, always singing to songs stuck in your head, helping others, doodling on your yellow shoes. The kind glances you’d give, quick remarks he’d counter, the way you made him feel. He felt the fire inside die, replaced by a glowing ember. The glow you’d carried now living in him.

Robin nudges him and he looks down, only to see the monster attacking Billy. Any trace of anger or a revenge plot melting away at the sight. No one deserves that pain, not even Billy. Suddenly the monster begins to flail, Steve and Robin stumbling back from the rail as it falls into it. The pair jump back to their feet and peer below. A fire burns, scorching the monster’s motionless body. Mike rushes to El, wrapping her in his arm. Max stumbles to Billy, sobbing over him. Before Robin can stop him, Steve is rushing down the escalators to you. His feet can’t carry him fast enough, so he slides down the center. When he reaches you, he collapses to his knees. Steve cradles you in his arms, sobbing into your hair. His hand supports the back of your head, holding you close to his heart.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry” he repeats, placing kisses on your head.

“I tried, I tried. I fought as hard as I could”

He’s rocking back and forth, trying to soothe himself and you. He screws his eyes shut, taking you in one last time

“Steve?” the voice was barely audible. Steve almost didn’t hear it

The voice comes again, groan follows, then a cough. He carefully moves your head from his chest and it met with the kind eyes he loved looking back at him. A sob crawled its way out his body as you smiled at him. A reassuring smile. You place a hand on his cheek, and he quickly pulls it to his mouth, planting a kiss on your palm.

“I thought I lost you” his voice coming across breathless in his startled state. There’s a moment of silence where you’re searching each other’s faces. Something washes over you, but this time you’re sure of what it is. You see his worry and distress and can’t help but feel sorry for the pain you caused him.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily” you grin, you words causing a choked chuckle and tears to flow from Steve. He pulls you close again, fully sobbing into your hair. You wrap your arms around him in a tight embrace. He savors the feeling.

Good had won. Steve saved his true love. You were here despite it all.

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington fic #strangerthings oneshot #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #heart-eye-harrington #heart-eye-harrington writes

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foreverwcnter · 5 years ago

Text

small favors

pairing — peter parker x reader

requested: @goldenpete “ roommate!peter where he comes home and the reader did his laundry because he was having a hard week or something. he is like so grateful and she's like oh it was nothing and he realizes right there he's in love love

warnings — none

summary — when a few simple favors was enough to make peter realise he was in love with you.

author’s note — this was supposed to be a concept, but it’s such a cute idea that can go in so many different ways. I’ve poured my heart and soul into writing this.

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Have you ever felt that feeling of just pure and genuine joy when you first step into your new home? Even when it’s small, simple, basic, you still find it just captivating. You always get the feeling that you can organize your life with a new home. You have the ability to create a home for new memories and house them in your mind, holding them tight to your chest.

That was how you and Peter Parker felt when you both moved into the apartment you would share? From the beginning, your friendship with Peter sparked like those sparklers from the Fourth of July. The ones that kids would run around with, laughing and shrieking when the sparks got too close. The day you and Peter met was unlike any other day. It all seemed but a dream to you both now. It was as if you had known each other for ages, for centuries, when only a few years passed.

“Peter Parker, get your head out of the clouds and back on your shoulders,” Mrs. Warren's stern snap brought Peter out of the daze he found himself in. It was no surprise that Peter was daydreaming again. He yearned to be out swinging in the streets. Letting the wind blow past him. It was an exhilarating feeling. It felt like he was a knight in shining armor when he was out saving lives. It made him proud.

Once the bell had rung, a shrill sound that was painful to the ears, Peter had rushed out of class, ready to just get to the next one and get the day over with. Ned had run up beside him, going on an on about something Star Wars related before his voice pitch heightened and he nudged peter in the arm painfully.

“Who is that?”

Looking across the hall, you stood in your pale jean overalls, a plain white shirt tucked under it. Your soft and combed locks of hair were tied back in a braid, which fell against your shoulders neatly. You were graceful. You looked poised and sophisticated but you had a soft and awkward expression. It was odd that such conflicting characteristics fit so perfectly together. You seemed to walk out of a fairytale book.

“I think-” Peter paused. “That’s the new student Mrs. Warren told us about. She’s from like Washington or whatever. Supposed to be really smart.”

“Let’s go talk to her.”

Before Peter could even utter a word from his thin lips, Ned grasped Peter’s left hand in a steel grip, dragging him to where you stood, examining your schedule as if it were a diamond you found in a cave.

“Hey, I’m Ned and this is Peter. We heard you’re new and were wondering if you wanted to have someone to help you around the school,” Ned explained, his cheerful and bright personality shining through his dashing grin and small eyes.

A delicate smile pulled on your lips. “That’d be great. This school is huge and I have literally no idea how to even get back to the entrance,” you chuckled, greeting the two politely. “Oh! I’m y/n by the way.”

You and Peter managed to unpack all your belongings and decorated the apartment within a week. While Peter was in charge of unpacking all the heavy things, you were in charge of the details. You made the apartment cozy and quaint. You always dreamed of living somewhere beautiful, like a cottage in a meadow full of flowers and a small stream nearby. You tried to make the apartment similar to that setting and it fits in perfectly.

The next few weeks went by smoothly. Peter and you soon started college together and living together was a breeze. While you were getting a degree in botany - no doubt because you had a love for plants and flowers - and Peter getting his in engineering, things weren’t so bad. you often helped each other study, sometimes while you were patching Peter’s wounds up from his patrols.

“Hold still, Peter,” you snapped at the boy as he squirmed on the bed. You were giving Peter the stitches he needed in his shoulder, but he kept moving and flinching from the pain. “I know it hurts, but it’ll hurt worse if I rip your skin.”

Peter flinched harshly as you pulled the needle through his bruised skin. The fight he had gotten in was rather nasty, leaving him with more wounds than usual. He had instantly come to you for you to help stitch and treat the wounds, but also just for moral support. A simple favor was all he asked for.

“Thank you,” he sighed as you finished, pulling the top of the suit that was clinging to his waist up over his arms and shoulders. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, y/n”

“You’d be a mess without me,” you chuckled, playfully and lightly punching his uninjured shoulder. “But you’re welcome.”

The thing was, living with Peter as his roommate, could be a risk, especially if someone were to find out you were both friends. Peter made it very clear to you that he faced a lot fo unwanted dangers, unwanted enemies, and so much more and that could put you in danger. There had been a time- a day- where your life was in danger, but you didn’t care because you helped your best friend that day.

Running down the street to where the fight was, you clutched a small container of web fluid in hand. Peter had run out in the middle of the battle with the Green Goblin and was in desperate need of some more. You went as fast as your legs could carry you and you finally arrived in time square where people were screaming, running and hiding as Peter fought the man on the glider.

“Spider-man!” You called, looking up at the fight with concern written in your soft gaze. “Spider-man, catch!”

Peter turned in time and as you threw the vial into the air, he caught it, finally being able to swing once again. But of course, the inevitable happened.

“Spider-man’s got a friend I see!” the enemy laughed, swooping down at you. You couldn't even look in time before arms scooped you and you were going hundreds of feet in the air by that point in time. You had been this high before but in safe arms. These arms that held you were not safe whatsoever. The whole situation reminded you of those fairytales of princesses being kidnapped, but their knight in shining armor would save them.

Peter was swinging frantically up to where you were, calling out your name as if it was the only thing he could ever say.

“Don’t hurt her, just let her go!” Peter yelled, making his way over.

“Whoops!” The green goblin laughed as he dropped you. A scream left your lips as you began tumbling through the air. A sense of dread and panic washed over you as you fell through the thin air, the screams of people from below getting louder, but your scream was all you could hear. This was it. You were going to die.

Of course, like any cliche movie or novel, you felt something stop you from falling. Someone had caught you. Your immediate response was to cling to whoever it was, thinking it was Peter but it wasn’t.

“Hey kid, I caught her,” Tony Stark’s voice sounded and you opened your eyes to see the familiar red and gold suit. The man soon landed on a balcony, setting you down just as Peter swung over, tackling you in a strong hug. When he hugged you, you could hear the small sniffles from his crying and how his breath hitched in his throat. It made your heart tighten and you hugged him back tightly.

“Don’t do that-”

“Nuh-uh, don’t give me that stupid talk about how I shouldn’t have come out here and not have helped you. You were out of web fluid, I could tell so I got you some,” you cut him off, pulling from the hug and giving him a stern look.

He hesitantly whispered,” Thank you.”

Now, it was your second year of college. You and Peter lived together peacefully as very close friends, but while things were going well for you, Peter was having a very tough week. For starter’s, he completely forgot about a test he had and struggled to find a time to make it up. Second, his patrols were getting longer and it was obvious he wasn’t getting enough rest. He missed two other days of classes before you finally decided that you should help him out with some simple things.

Folding the last clothing item he had stashed away in his laundry you finished washing, you heard the glass balcony door open and close. Turning to face Peter, you frowned at how tired and exhausted he looked once he took off his mask. His eyes softened almost when seeing the basket of folded laundry on the table and his lips tugged on a frown.

“Y/n you didn’t have to do that,” he began, a certain sadness in his voice. “I could have done it earlier-”

You shook your head, walking over to him and taking the mask that he held in his hands. “No, Peter. I was happy to do it. You’ve had such a hard week. Let me just do something for you. I made dinner and after you shower, we can eat dinner and watch Star Wars or something. You need a break.”’

Peter’s eyes glinted with gratitude and he nodded lightly. “Thank you, y/n. Thank you so much. I don’t deserve you.”

“It was nothing. Now go shower,” you smiled, walking back to where the laundry basket was and setting it by his bedroom door before heading back to get the dinner ready. You may or may have not stolen a certain recipe from Aunt May, knowing it was his favorite. You wanted to cheer him up, so you put lots of effort into making him happy that night.

About fifteen minutes later, Peter came in dressed in a plain t-shirt and some sweatpants, taking his seat at the table across from you as he began to eat. He glanced over at you, watching you eat so mindfully and silently before beginning to realize something.

No matter what, you had always been there for him. There was the time he forgot his science project and you brought it for him because he was once again fighting crime before school. Then there was the time you stitched him up after big fights, taking care of him when you needed to. Another favor. Then the time you risked your life to get him his needed web fluid. You almost died and it scared him to death because Peter knew for a fact he couldn't lose you. And now, you had done his long-overdue laundry and made dinner for him. Peter was soon coming across and realization, something he should have noticed sooner.

He loved you.

It made so much sense to him. The fact you never left his side for anyone or anything. You did such kind things for him even when he didn’t deserve it. It also explained how his gaze always softened when looking at you almost as if you could relax him without putting any effort to. You were the one person who looked out for him because even when you couldn’t you still tried. He loved that about you. You were the only person that kept him going. That allowed him to have the strength to stand back up against his opponents.

All it took was a few small favors for him to realize that.

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