#listen. i am so devastated right now
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fishbeanstew · 2 years ago
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babies ;-;
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justablah56 · 7 days ago
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You watching a new show?
yeah :] I made a post a bit ago asking if anyone had any recs for stuff with poly representation and am now watching . the only one I got 👍
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terrainofheartfelt · 2 years ago
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♾♾♾♾♾
5??? well I guess I must give you 5 songs!!!!!
You're just a copycat, but no one's buying that / Up on the discount rack, right at the back of TJ Maxx -- "Honey" by Kesha
I could cut a thousand roses / Show you that I'm all torn up inside -- "Go Find Yourself or Whatever" by Carly Rae Jepsen
You're a winter bitch but summer's in your blood / You can't help but become the sun -- "True Blue" by boygenius
Do you really want to know where I was April 29th? / Do I really have to tell you how he brought me back to life? -- "High Infidelity" by tswift
I miss it high / How it dulled the error and the beauty / And now I see everything in startling intensity -- "Faith Healer" by Julien Baker
put a "∞" in my ask box and I'll shuffle my music player and give you my favorite lyric from the song that comes up.
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bonetrousle · 2 years ago
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Mcr concert is in five weeks im officially going mcr mode and im not going to behave “normally” for the duration of that time by which i mean i will do everything in my power to avoid getting covid so i will avoid everyone and wear a mask at all times :)
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alittlebitofrainbyyourside · 5 months ago
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avaoracle · 1 month ago
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Okay, I have a little rant, and because I don't like to leave negative comments on people's works, I am putting it here. So ao3 has an amazing filtering system, it is truly beautiful and remarkable, but some people try to work around it and that bothers me. There are many things I could say about this, but the one I want to talk about right now, is the complete works filter, and how people circumvent it by saying "It's a series". No, it's not, if it is under 5000 words, and just abruptly ends, with zero resolution, that is a chapter, not a complete work, and you mislead me. You abuse that label, you got me hooked and this is fanfiction, so I have no guarantee that you will ever finish it. When you read an incomplete work, you know that going in, you make that choice and accept that it may never be finished. But when someone games the system, and posts an incomplete work, but labels it complete, they disrespect me and the entire, beautiful tagging/filtering system ao3 has. Just be honest, it's a wip, 1359 words with zero plot resolution does not a complete story make. Please and thank you, thanks for listening to my Ted Talk.
Please share if this annoys you too. I'm posting this here because I refuse to shame people directly on their works. As a fellow fanfiction writer, negative comments, no matter the context, can be devastating. At the end of the day the only reason I'm mad is because they started something amazing, and the last thing I want to do is discourage people from writing more, negative comments have been holding me back on some of my fics (well one of them) so as frustrated as I am, I won't put that on them, besides, it's not just one author I'm annoyed at, so many people do this. Either finish it, or be honest.
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babyleostuff · 3 months ago
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― BROKEN CAMERAS
𝜗𝜚 THEME: fluff, domestic vibes, absolutely whipped kim mingyu 𝜗𝜚 PAIRING: dad!mingyu x mom!reader 𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT: 1.2k
⦗💌 ⦘in which your little girl wants to take a picture of you and mingyu but drops the camera she stole from him in the process
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„i was thinking,” mingyu murmured into your hair and turned the volume of the tv down, „that we could go to the farmer’s market tomorrow. since i don’t have any schedules, y’know.” 
you peeled your eyes from the screen and looked up at your husband from where your head was resting on his chest and nodded immediately, as if you’d ever say no to a day out with him and your daughter. „sounds perfect,” you sighed happily and fixed the blanket that mingyu wrapped you in some time ago. „maybe we’ll manage to find some vintage frames to match those in the living room.” 
he hummed and brushed his nose against your cheek. „just… this time we have to avoid the section where they keep the plushies.” 
ah yes, the plushies. 
your little girl’s current hyperfixation and your husband’s cause of nightmares. not that you minded, there was something endearing in a 6 foot something man sitting in a circle of bears and unicorns drinking tea from a miniature teacup. 
you smirked and lifted your head. „but she’ll be devastated, honey,” you fake-pouted.
she wouldn’t though, not really. your little girl has had her dad wrapped around her little finger since day one and she was a very smart kid, so figuring out how to get her dad to do anything for her wasn’t that difficult. she’s had the puppy-eyes technique figured out for a long time now, which… she used a lot to her advantage. 
mingyu groaned and lowered his head, bumping it against your shoulder. „there’s literally no room left in her bedroom. last night, when i was kissing her goodnight, i tripped over at least three of them!” he whined.  
that was very much true. you spent fifteen minutes this morning trying to find one of her shoes amongst the mess of unicorns of all shapes and sizes, and all you found in the end was a sock that you had been looking for for the past month. it didn’t help that soonyoug bought her tiger plushies every other week, not to mention seungcheol who loved spending his money on your daughter for some reason. 
but you couldn't help but throw your head back and laugh at your husband wholeheartedly. „gyu, you’re capable of tripping over air, it doesn’t count in your case,” you giggled and ran your fingers through his messy hair, pushing back the few curly strands that fell over his eyes. “besides, she’ll find a way to get those plushies either way. it’s not like you’ll ever say no to her.”  
you could feel your husband’s pouty lips against your collarbone as he said, “you’re right. but it’s unfair that mr.unicorn gets all the cuddles now. even that ugly monkey that looks like it had been through a car crash and a bad lip injection is more loved than i am.” 
heavens, sometimes you wondered who the real baby in your family was. 
“gyu, listen to me,” you took his face in your hands and peeled him away from you, “stop overreacting-,”. 
“but what if she’s all grown up now and won’t-,”. 
“she’s three, kim mingyu. besides, she loves you, you dumbass,” you ran your thumb over his cheek, though that didn’t seem to convince him. “she’s a daddy’s girl, okay? trust me, i am the one who should be complaining about the lack of cuddles,” you said and smoothed the crease between his brows.
“if you say so,” he sighed, and nuzzled his cheek into your hand. “but-,”. 
suddenly, out of nowhere, you heard a loud bang behind you, like something fell and... glass broke? mingyu being mingyu, almost fell off the couch, but you were quick to turn around to inspect where the sound came from. 
and your heart almost broke when you saw what, or rather who, was standing behind the couch.
"oh, honey," you cooed.
your little girl was standing in the middle of the room, clad in her pink nightgown mingyu had bought her on one of his trips abroad, only instead of the bright smile that always graced her face, there were tears in her gorgeous, brown eyes.
"what the?" your husband murmured next to you. “is that my camera?” 
your daughter’s eyes widened in panic as she looked at him. “‘m sorry, daddy,” her voice wobbled in the most heartbreaking way possible. the little girl’s tiny hands were clutching onto the neck strap that was supposed to be connected to the camera. “didn’ mean,” she sniffled, “to break it,” she said and the first tears started rolling down her puffy cheeks. 
you quickly untangled your limbs from the blanket but before you could get up, mingyu put his hand on your thigh. “no, no, no,” he almost tripped from how fast he got up from the couch. “it wasn’t your fault, princess.” 
you thanked whatever grace that your daughter was smart enough not to move because the floor around her was litreed in small glass shards and you weren’t sure what you and mingyu would do if anything happened to her. 
not even a second later, he was at her side, picking up her small body and engulfing her in his big arms. 
“don’ be angry, daddy,” your baby cried into mingyu's shoulder and wrapped her arms around his neck. 
mingyu shook his head and turned around to face you with a heartbreakingly sad expression. “i’m not angry, baby. i was just scared,” he murmured. “daddy thought you hurt yourself.” 
you waved for them to come over to where you were sitting and muttered a quiet “come here”.  
your husband placed your daughter on his lap, her head pressed against his chest, on the same spot where yours was just a minute ago. her tiny fists were pressed against his naked tummy as she continued to sniffle quietly. 
wiping every tear that escaped her eyes you started to hum one of the lullababies mingyu used to sing to her when she was a newborn, something you still did when she was upset. your husband was stroking her hair the whole time, rocking her back and forth, as you continued to hum quietly.
“why did you take my camera, sweetheart?” mingyu asked after a while, when her breathing calmed down a bit. 
“i woke up,” she said, looking up at him with her big brown eyes. “and i saw you n’ mommy sittin’ and i wan’ to take picture. like you always take of me n’ mommy.” 
mingyu’s own eyes welled up with tears and he quickly tucked her head back to his chest so she wouldn’t see him upset. 
“oh, baby,” you whispered quietly, though you weren’t sure who needed more comforting at that point. “that’s so sweet, but next time ask me or daddy for help, okay? you could’ve seriously injured yourself.” 
your baby girl nodded and she scrambled off mingyu’s lap to throw herself in your embrace instead. well, it was nice to know that the unicorns and your husband hadn’t replaced you completely yet.  
“what do you say we go and grab a camera together, hm?” he asked. “and we can do a whole photoshoot, we can even make a white background with the sheets.” 
“pink. pink sheets,” she said and clapped her hands. it seemed that you and mingyu breathed a sigh of relief that your daughter was back to her normal, bubbly self.  
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cheapshrimpysheep · 2 months ago
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My Heaven's Light
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SUMMARY: Rollo managed to kidnap you before sending the NRC students to Fleur City's Waterways, believing he was saving you. Malleus and the others reach the tower, ring the Bell of Solace and rescue you. Malleus expresses his protective side and Rollo apologizes for kidnapping you.
CHARACTERS: Rollo Flamme VS Malleus Draconia (x Reader)
TAGS: GN Reader; Angst to Comfort; Jealousy
WARNING: Spoilers from Glorious Masquerade; Kidnapping
WORD COUNT: 4.220 Words
COMMENTS: Thinking about the fact that Rollo is the twisted version of Frollo and thinking of MC as Esmeralda, it is inevitable to imagine Rollo kidnapping MC. But not for the same reasons!
Rollo is a really complex character, but one I've wanted to write about for some time now. I plan to try writing more with him in the future.
Until then, I hope you enjoy this one. 🐲🦐🔔
By the way, do you have ANY idea how many times I've looked up synonyms for common words just to get as close as possible to Rollo's way of speaking? One thing is for sure: I am greatly expanding my English vocabulary with this.
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Amidst the panic that the firelotuses were causing, both your colleagues and Professor Trein end up paying more attention to the flowers than to you.
As you move away from the flowers, you end up approaching one of the pillars. That's when you feel a hand covering your mouth and another holding your arm behind your back.
You are carried away through the shadows as you try to free yourself, but these attempts only make the hands hold you even tighter and run the risk of injuring your arm.
The person who is taking you leans over and whispers in your ear. “I beg you not do make this more complicated that it needs to be.” It's Rollo!
He takes you to a room adjacent to the hall and pushes you inside, making you fall into an armchair. Just before he closes the door to lock you inside you hear Grim's voice.
“[Y/N]? [Y/N]?! MY HENCH-HUMAN DISAPPEARED!”
No matter how loud you scream, or how much you bang on the door, the chaos outside is too loud for anyone to hear you. Eventually you realize something is going on, so you stop to listen to the conversation. Rollo had revealed himself and was talking to your NRC colleagues.
“My, my.” You hear Azul say. “That was quite a predictable villain line, you know.”
“Silence!” Rollo's voice echoed. “YOU'RE the villains here! And what's more, you flaunted your magic and mesmerized our good citizens with it... Just like you did with your prefect. You imprisoned them with you and poisoned their mind. The poor thing became numb to the absurdity after spending every day swimming in it. Mages use their magic to lead people astray and cloud the eyes of the virtuous public. It's sad state of affairs, but it's devastating when the victim is someone like [Y/N].”
“What have you done with [Y/N]?!” Malleus's powerful voice demands to know.
“For now, I am keeping them safe. But once I engulf the world in the fiery crimson of these flowers and strip every mage in Twisted Wonderland of their magic, then I will have saved them, and all those like them who suffer at your hands!”
“You have no idea of the atrocity you are insinuating, Flamme!” Not only does Malleus’s voice thunder, but the sky outside does too.
“And there he is, folks! The secret mastermind who was controlling the ‘final boss’ all along!” Idia says. “But what kind of mastermind jumps the gun and shows up this early? Dude has like, zero patience.”
“Could you not right now? You're ruining the moment.” Azul complains.
The discussion continues with Rollo revealing that his plan is already well underway. When the Bell of Solace rang for an unprecedented fourth time that night, it suffused the city with magic. The firelotuses aren't only in the school. They've spread throughout the city, and are sapping the energy from every mage living there. And after that, he opens the floor for everyone to fall into a pit.
“And those accursed mages, with Malleus Draconia foremost among them... They'll all be finished! Enjoy your time down below. Though I think you'll find it quite...draining. At long last... I shall finally mete out my justice.”
Some time later, the door opens and Rollo enters, extending his hand to you.
“Come. We must go to the Bell Tower. It is safer-”
What he didn't expect was for you to attack him with a tall candlestick. And you discover that in addition to being a promising mage, he also has excellent reflexes. He manages to dodge your attack and grab your wrists so you let go of the candlestick.
“I do not aim to harm you!” He says very seriously. “Please don't turn it into something I have to do.”
“Then what are you doing locking me here?”
“Preventing you from falling for the tricks of those magic-addled fools once again.” He comes closer, still grabbing you by the wrists. “You poor thing. Blinded by villains who wear an elusive mask of companions. But worry not, that tragic state of affairs shan't last much longer.” He brings his face even closer to yours. “Now, I will provide you with a choice. You will accompany me peacefully to the Bell Tower, where you will be safe by my side. Or you will make me forcefully assure your safety. Which one will be?”
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If you choose to resist, Rollo will pin your arm behind your back again and place a handkerchief over your mouth and nose. Whatever is in that handkerchief, will render you unconscious. And you will wake up on the top floor of the Bell Tower, lying on a blanket.
You see Rollo with his back to you, looking down at the bright scarlet below. You stand up.
“For the Righteous Judge's sake, don't try to go against me again.” Rollo says, without turning to you. “Even without the use of my magic you will not be able to overpower me.” Still without taking his eyes off the outside he calms down to invite you. “Would you be so kind as to join me in gazing out over the city?”
If you choose to accompany him peacefully to the Bell Tower, Rollo will release your wrists with a smile and give you his arm for you to intertwine with yours.
“I'm glad my judgment of you is aligning with the truth.” He says calmly as he guides. “To remain so virtuous amidst the chaos of magic, you must surely be one of heaven's lights.” You see now a new smile, a peaceful one.
The climb up the tower was silent, as you needed to breathe to climb all those stairs. When you finally reach the top, Rollo extends his hand to you. If you give him yours, he will guide you like a gentleman to a point where you can both see the ominously lit city below.
After your choice:
“Ahh, the city's turned a marvelous shade of crimson... How cleansing it is. I've never felt so at peace before.”
“Why are you doing this, Rollo?”
“Once magic vanish from the world forever, no one will have to suffer with its consequences. Magic is not something to be lionized. It is an evil temptation that, behind its illusory wonders, only causes pain and suffering. If it wasn't dangerous, it wouldn't be like a toxin in your body... However... I wonder how much you actually know about it.”
You look at him as if to ask what he means by that.
“Are you even from this world [Y/N]?” He finally looks at you. “I don't know what it is, but there's something about you that's different from every non-magic user I've ever met. And the circumstances surrounding you are quite... abnormal.”
You choose not to respond.
“I see you have your secrets. I have mine owns as well." He takes his handkerchief to his face. "If you don't feel comfortable talking about your past, then allow me the right not to talk about mine either.”
He puts the handkerchief back in his pocket, and you observe the city in silence for a moment, until he speaks again.
“They will come here. I don't know which students will be strong enough to reach the tower, but Malleus Draconia will certainly be one of those who will be able to reach me. And when that happens, I will guarantee that he will be the first to fall.”
“Why all this obsession with Tsunotarou?”
“Obsession is a very strong word, I simply...” He stops to process what you just said. “I beg your pardon, but am I correct in assuming you were referring to Malleus Draconia just now?”
“Of course, he was who you were talking about just... Oh, I called him Tsunotarou didn't I? Sorry. But yes, I was talking about Malleus.”
“T-Tsunotarou?” He takes the handkerchief back to his face. “Is it some kind of mocking nickname?”
“No! I mean yes, it's a nickname, but no, it's not to mock him. It's a long story but that's what Grim and I call him.”
“Does he know about this... name?”
“Oh, yes. He even likes me calling him by that, he thinks it's funny. Or at least that's what it seams. He smiles every time he hears me say that name.” Just like you were smiling talking about him. “He calls me Child of Man.”
“You have a playful nickname for each other.” Rollo whispers with the handkerchief covering his angry (jealous) expression. “Soon enough you'll feel disgusted by it.”
“Sorry, I didn't understand.”
“No, nothing. Pay me no mind.” He takes the handkerchief away from his mouth. “Ah... I hear the firelotuses rustling... Those wretched Night Raven College mages are making their way up the tower, aren't they? Villains are always so stubborn.” Before you could complain about his words, he puts his hand on your arm and continues. “I must get you in a safer place. Those monsters won't give up without a fight.”
“Who do you think we’re calling-”
He ignores your reprimand and takes you by the arm to a small room that they will not have access to without first going through Rollo.
“I am deeply sorry for what I'm about to do, but I need to make sure you do not alert them to your location.” With his magic, he makes ropes appear to tie you up and a piece of cloth to silence you. “See how despicable magic is? An atrocity like trapping you is completed in seconds. But I will release you as soon as the danger has passed.” And he closes the door.
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“Here we are.” You hear Malleus’s voice. “The very top floor of the bell tower.”
“The Bell of Solace stands out even at night.” Azul comments. “Look how it glints in the moonlight.”
“Now to ring it, wipe out the flowers, rescue [Y/N] and finish this stupid pop-up quest for good.” Idia points out.
“But to do that...” Malleus returns. “We must first pay our respects to the host of the party.”
This was Rollo's cue to reveal himself. Which he does.
“At long last, you've arrived. The greater the villains, the more they insist on stopping around. Deplorable.”
“Where are they Flamme?” Malleus demands to know.
“Safe, of course, away from you and your wicked lies.”
“Okay, I really need to ask.” Idia says. “What does our magic-less Prefect have to do with this flower plan and ending magic thing? Why kidnap them? They have no power to stop you. Unless you kidnapped them to keep them for yourself. Good taste tho. But you only met them literally today! That’s like the ultimate desperate creep move.”
“My actions involving your Prefect have nothing to do with personal motives. Innocent victims must be rescued from your evil hands! And that is exactly what I did.”
“I don't know if you would use the word ‘Innocent’ like that if you actually knew them.” Azul comments with a smirk.
“If this is true, it will be proof of your corruption!”
The flowers reach the bell and the exchange of words follows a course that ends with the three fighting Rollo after Malleus said:
“Regardless of your reasons, you will not have your way. I shall stop you for all the fallen in this city... For the wonderful person you kidnapped... For the people awaiting us at school... For Briar Valley... And for myself. You see, I harbor a particularly potent animus toward you. A feeling aggravated by the disrespectful actions you had towards  who is dearest to me. I shall eradicate the firelotuses and put all to rights. With the Bell of Solace itself!”
They lose the first fight against Rollo. And it's after that that Idia reveals what they read in Rollo's diary that they found in the fireplace. About his brother. About him not being able to do anything to save him... And you hear Idia going down a not so empathetic path, to which you would react with a facepalm if your hands weren't tied.
You hear Rollo getting angry and starting to lose his composure, Azul attacking him with Deuce's signature spell, with whom he had made a deal, the astonished reaction when seeing that Rollo is still standing, and finally, you hear Rollo use his signature spell and the sound of flames bursting forth.
A new fight, even more violent, until the sound of the flames died away and...
“Rollo collapsed, and his flames went out...” Azul says. “That means Malleus won, right?”
“Dude, Malleus is out of breath.” Idia says “I can see why he wanted us clear. We could've easily been collateral damage.”
Rollo says he accepted his defeat, but only to try to attack Malleus one last time when he turned his back on him. He failed, and Malleus rang the Bell of Solace, making all the flowers wither.
“The firelotuses...” Rollo was sobbing. “My flowers, my salvation, they're all withering away... You VILLAINS. What have you done?!”
“More important than that.” Malleus approached, his figure towering over Rollo's on the ground. “What have YOU done to [Y/N]?”
“Why do you show yourself so worried? A being like you would never truly care for someone like them. Admit your true intentions! You want to see them suffer on the long term.”
You finally manage to get your feet close to the door. You hear the worried voices of Azul and Idia telling Malleus not to succumb to Rollo's provocations. And you knock on the door with your feet so they can hear you.
You hear hurried footsteps coming your way, see Malleus opening the door, and look down in horror.
“[Y/N]!” He quickly reaches down to free you, breaking the ropes with his own hands and untying the piece of cloth around your mouth. He would have preferred to use magic to ensure he didn't hurt you, but he was relatively weak in that regard. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
You say you're fine, but that doesn't stop Malleus from picking you up in his arms.
“Is [Y/N] hurt?!” Azul asked, worried.
“They say they're fine. But just in case.”
“Something tells me that Malleus just really wanted to live the scene of the hero who picks up the princess in their arms after saving her from the clutches of the villain who kidnapped her.” Idia comments, just between him and Azul. “Hey, no judgments. This is what I call sense of opportunity.”
Rollo was furious, but he would never admit how jealous he was. Not even to himself.
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You watched the shows that your NRC colleagues prepared. The music was beautiful and they sang so well! Especially Malleus. After that, you all talked for a bit in a group before Malleus disappeared. Only for you to see him dance with Rollo. Seriously? All that and he's still going to dance with Rollo before he dances with you?!
You dance with the others, until Malleus appears to bow to you and invite you to dance with him. However, to his surprise, you look sullen.
“Is there something wrong?” He asks you. “Did I do something that displeased you?”
You answer yes, that after everything, the first person he danced with was Rollo. He chuckles, and you get even more sulky.
“Forgive me, but I could not resist provoking Flamme one last time. That, and warn him never to even come near you again.” He says with a smile, which makes it a little scary. “I jest. Well, partially. I did threaten him if he did anything to you again.” He pauses to see if you would cheer up a bit, but you still didn't seem completely satisfied. He smirks. “I must admit, a little jealousy can actually be charming and cute.”
Other people wanted to dance with Malleus, but he asked them all to, please, wait a little longer.
“You are creating a quite long waiting line you know? I will not dance with anyone else until I have my desired dance with my beloved.” He smiles smugly when he sees your reaction.
You give him your hand, he kisses the back of it and brings your body closer to his, placing his other hand on your waist. And you dance together.
“Please be careful.” He says as you dance. You look down at your feet, confused. “Fufu. No my dear, I wasn't referring to your dancing.” The sweet smile becomes more serious. “I was referring to Rollo Flamme. I have reason to believe that, after just one day, he has already recognized your charm. He does not convince me that he did that to you just because he believed he was saving you. But worse than that...”
His expression turns sad and you feel his hand pull you closer.
“He still have hatred towards me and wants to get read of all the mages. Under different circumstances, I would not fear his attacks. I would even invite him to try. But with you... If he realizes how much you mean to me... Despite what happened, I don't believe he has that kind of character, but if he reaches a state of despair where his hatred for me is stronger than the attachment he might feel for you...”
There’s a pause. His expression becomes more peaceful.
“I learned an expression that the citizens here have. Heaven's Light. We don't know what this place called heaven is for sure, but according to some records from the past, it would have been such a wonderful place that it was not even located on land. It was somewhere above the clouds. I believe even the stories of the Lord of the Underworld spoke of a similar place. They say that the name ‘Heaven's Light’ was given by the Kindly Bell Ringer to the woman he fell in love with, for being such a caring and kind person to him.”
He caresses your cheek with one of his hands.
“I understand him perfectly. From the story I was told, I can only believe that I too was blessed with my own Heaven's Light. And just like the Kindly Bell Ringer, I will do whatever it takes to protect it.”
You didn't even realize that Malleus has led you to a more secluded place. Only when you saw that the two were hidden by the shadows and a pillar and he began to bring his face closer to yours. “My Heaven's Light.” He whispers before kissing you.
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After your dance with Malleus, he went to dance with the other people who also wanted such an honor and you went to dance with some of your other colleagues.
You were finishing dancing with Sebek when Rollo approached you. Both you and he startled when Sebek quickly placed himself between the two of you.
“What are your intentions?” Sebek inquired with hostility.
“My intentions are not vile.” Rollo replies, hiding his displeasure at the way Sebek is talking to him with his composure. “I would only like to be able to invite [Y/N] to dance.”
“I cannot allow it! My orders are to keep this human safe and away from you.”
Rollo takes his handkerchief to his face, holding back the urge to respond to his audacity and insulting words. However, you tell Sebek that it's okay and that you would like to accept Rollo's invitation. Both he and Sebek are surprised.
“B-but...” He had those sad puppy eyes, eager to fulfil his duty. “My liege told me... he entrusted me to protect you.”
And you say he can still do it. He can watch you while you dance with Rollo. And if something really happens, he can intervene.
“But what if it's too late?”
You say that Rollo wouldn't do anything like that in front of all those people. And that Sebek could tell Malleus that it was your fault for telling him not to stop you.
“But... *sigh* Why are you humans so stubborn? Fine. But I won't take my eyes off you. Even if I have to stop myself from blinking!... Be careful.”
Rollo extends his hand to you and you place yours in his to accept his invitation to dance. He guides you very gently.
“I wanted to apologize for the way I treated you.” He tells you while dancing with you. “I never meant to be rude to you. And regardless of what the students of Night Raven College tell you, at no point did I intend to harm you.” Your expression shows your suspicion. “I don't intend to apologize for doing what I concluded was the best way to save you at the time. I only apologize for the... atrocious way in which I did it. I shouldn't have forced you to come with me. But I feared what those spiteful mages might do to you in a moment of desperation.”
“They wouldn't hurt me!” You say, with certainty in your voice.
“How could you be so sure of that?”
“Because, unlike you, I know them.”
He looks you intently in the eyes, and sighs. The music comes to an end, as does your dance. You bow to each other.
“I find it pitiful seeing someone magic-devoid like you stuck in that villains' lair.” He tells you when you both straighten up. “I am inclined to make my utmost efforts to have you reside in Nobel Bell College instead, however I've already come to the sorrowful realization that it is your heart that keeps you hostage in that island. But before we part, I insist that you know that if you ever find yourself overwhelmed by those circumstances that involve magic, do let me know.” He gives you that subtle smile of his. “I will be glad to provide you with my support and assistance at any moment.”
You give him a smile back, accepting his offer.
“But, just to guarantee that you don't forget my heartfelt offering...” He reaches into his pocket, takes out his handkerchief and extends it to you. “Here it is said that handkerchiefs are powerful guardians of the memories of a loved one. It is common to offer them when we don't want to be forgotten by someone. Despite my mistakes, I would still like you to have the most pleasant memory of me possible." You accept his gift. "I confess that my biggest wish at the moment was to have one of yours too.” Without his handkerchief, he covers his mouth with his hand. “But that is just a mere whim of mine.” He takes his hand away from his face and smiles again “Not even in my wildest dreams did I think I would have so much pleasure in meeting someone from Night Raven College.” He gives you one last bow. “May the Bell of Solace allow our paths to cross again.”
He turned to walk away, but you wanted to do one last thing. You had also bought a handkerchief just like his when you were doing your tour of the city, and you wouldn't need two. You ask him to wait and he turns back to you.
“It doesn't have to be a mere whim.” You say, handing him the handkerchief you had kept with you. Perhaps the sign of a second chance.
He receives your handkerchief and looked at it with his natural smile, but his eyes were different, they had a small, almost imperceptible sparkle.
“I will keep it as one of my most cherished possessions. Thank you, [Y/N].”
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“Should I assume this was some sort of revenge?” You hear Malleus's voice say suddenly as you step away from the dancing crowd.
You didn't know he was there, and so close. You look at him and he's smiling wryly.
“I didn't give him any gifts, though. Should I have bought a souvenir too? Perhaps make a bouquet of those crimson flowers he is so fond of.”
“It seems you were right, Tsunotarou.” You say with a sly smile. “A little jealousy can actually be charming and cute.”
Malleus makes that cute pout.
“I told you to be careful.” He says, not as a scolding, but as a concerned request.
You tell him that nothing bad happened, that Rollo wanted to apologize for what he did to you and for him not to blame Sebek because you were the one who accepted Rollo's invitation.
“Don't worry, I know Sebek is a loyal guard. And that you are the one with a kind heart. I told Sebek that I believed him when he told me that it was of your own free will that you were dancing with Flamme. It is in your character to give others the opportunity to explain and apologize. I know this well because it's one of the things I love most about you.” His pout comes back. “However...” He smiles smugly. “I would be more reassured if you spend the rest of the ball close to me. Just in case.”
“Just in case of what, exactly?” You ask.
“Just in case someone else becomes so captivated by you that they want to lock you up in a tower. Which reminds me that in some tales the kidnapper arrange a dragoon to guard the kidnapped.” His smile becomes even more smug and slightly threatening. “Fu fu fu. I would like to see them trying.”
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If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX
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anexplosionofchaos · 19 days ago
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THE WAY HES SPEAKING INTO HER HAND. ohh my god hes literally kneeling begging for her to listen
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this frame is so beautiful and devastating
i genuinely cant exist anymore how am i meant to survive in these conditions
i understand how via must feel right now for her to do this (unwanted, lied to) and i know she has a right to be angry but. god. tears are running down my face. genuinely i want them to be okay. i NEED them to be okay.
maybe someday :(
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wokeupinmars · 1 year ago
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The Last Time
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Summary: Peter's on the verge of losing you after disappointing you yet again.
masterlist
He didn’t show, the night was over and Peter was nowhere to be found. 
You tried your best to mask your disappointment with a tall face as all the attendees started to trickle out of your college’s art exhibit, a handful of them congratulating and complimenting you on your artwork as they passed you. 
It wasn't until you saw May walking towards you with a sympathetic look on her face that you felt your facade falter, “I’m so sorry darling,” she said as she brought you into a hug squeezing you. 
“It’s fine, May. Thank you for coming, I really appreciate it.” You give her a sad smile pulling away from her. You take a deep breath, “May…I hate to do this but do you think I could get a raincheck on dinner tonight? I just want to go home.”
There’s a visible look of sadness on her face but she nods, “Of course you can, it’s beautiful by the way,” she says, angling her body to face your painting. 
You mimic her actions, giving your painting a one over, “Thanks, I wasn’t sure about letting them display it when my art professor–she's the director of the exhibit asked. But I’m glad I did, a lot of people seemed to like it.” 
“I can see why!” She exclaims. 
Just as you were about to speak, the voice of your professor cut through all the chatter, “Ladies and gentlemen the art exhibit is now closing! Please make your way to the exit!”
You motion for her to follow you as you head to the doors. “How are you getting home? I could give you a ride,” she questioned. You shake your head, "I don’t think I can be around a Parker right now, at least not without wanting to cry.” 
She frowns upon hearing your words, “Oh.” You push and hold the door open for her, “I know this is an unfair thing to ask of you but can you tell Peter I don’t want to hear from him anymore?” 
May freezes the second she makes it outside, fully processing what you just said, “I’m sure he’s sorry–” She’s trying to save him, you both know she is. “I’m sure he is but I’m not interested in hearing his poor excuse of an apology. He knew how important this was to me and he said he’d be here, but he’s not. There’s only so many times you can let a person disappoint you, May.” Your eyes well with tears as you think back to telling him about being a part of the exhibit and how he added opening night to the calendar on his phone as well as the one that hung in his room, even going as far as drawing a heart around the square.
Cars start to whizz by as the traffic light turns green and you let out a defeated sigh, opening your arms to hug her goodbye, “It’s getting late and I don’t want to miss the train, you should head home too.” This time she hugs you tightly, “Give me a call when you get home, alright?”
You nod your head in response, “Thank you for coming, it means a lot to me. Have a goodnight and drive safe, okay?” Her hold on you gets even tighter, mumbling a goodnight to you before releasing you. 
She stands still and watches you disappear down the street before pulling her phone out, attempting to reach Peter herself and when she's unable to, she leaves him a devastating voicemail, a voicemail he wouldn't hear until thirty minutes later when he was stood in front of ESU’s now dark and empty art center. 
“...She said doesn’t want to hear from you anymore and honestly? I don’t blame her. She watched the door all night for you. All night, Peter, all night! She looked so heartbroken. She was trying her best to hide it but that look on her face, it was soul-crushing. I think this is it for you, ‘there are only so many times you can let a person disappoint you’ those were her exact words. She’s disappointed in you and frankly so am I, I didn’t raise you to act like this. You fucked up big time, there’s no point in sugarcoating it. I adore that girl and I know you do too but you’re losing her…”
Peter could feel the panic rising in his chest as he listened, the thought of losing you made his stomach churn. There's a slight shake in his hand as he presses his phone to his ear, his breath is caught in his throat as he waits for the calls to start ringing, praying you hadn’t blocked him. A sigh of relief escapes his mouth when it does but when the rings halt and his phone buzzes with a text message from you, he could feel all the air leave his lungs. 
Sorry, I can’t talk right now.
Peter rushes to text you back; I’m so sorry honey. 
He can see that you read his message but when you don't respond, he sends you another, and another, and another.  
May left me a voicemail 
I know I fucked up 
And that I keep fucking up
But I can fix it 
Can we please talk? 
A spark of hope ignites within him as he watches the three dots appear on the screen but the feeling dwindles once he reads your message; It’s late, I’m tired and I don't want to hear or see you, please just leave me alone.  
Peter goes to respond but another message appears in the chat informing him that you had silenced your notifications. His eyes never leave the screen, reading and rereading all the texts you’d sent him throughout the night, heart getting heavier and heavier with every message. He knows he should just listen and let you be but he goes against your wishes and sends one last message, I love you, I’m sorry.
—————————————
The sound of your phone ringing slices through the noise of the hand mixer you were using and the crinkles of the paper bag your cat was playing with. You glance at the screen, eyes scanning the contact name before turning off the mixer, answering the call, and bringing it up to your ear, “Hello?” 
“Hello sweetheart, how are you feeling today?” Your elderly neighbor’s voice comes through clearly on the other end. A sigh leaves your lips, “Better, better than yesterday at least, I’m trying to keep myself occupied…giving baking a shot.” She hums in response, “Listen dear…I hate to be the bearer of bad news but he’s here.” 
Your eyebrows knit together, “What do you mean?” 
“That boy of yours. I’ve been watching him, he’s been standing at the door for the past half an hour.” You walk into the living room and over to the window, peeking through the blinds and sure enough there he was standing in front of the door of the duplex with his head hung low. “Do you want me to shoo him away? My grandson left his toy gun here the other day, you know the one with the foam bullets…I’ll take him out for you, sweetheart.” 
Despite being amused by her words, a frown forms on your face, “Stand down, Mrs. Temple. I’ll handle him.” 
“Alright, but if he gives you any trouble just let me know. I’ll give him hell.” Her soft voice now stern, “I know you will, remember how you asked me for his number last night cause you wanted to cuss him out?” You can hear her let out a huff on the other end before exclaiming, “He made you cry! I should go out there and jam my knitting needle through his eye.” 
“That won’t be necessary, I’ll just tell him to leave and everything will be fine. And oh! Before I forget, do you like funfetti cake? I’ll bring it up for you and Mr.Temple a few slices when it's done.” 
“We’d love that!” 
The two of you exchange goodbyes and end the call. You take a second to collect yourself, taking a deep breath before opening the window, “What are you doing here?” 
His head darts up, “Honey,” the sound of his voice catches the attention of your cat, who jumps on the windowsill to see him. He turns his entire body in your direction, digging his hands further into the pockets of his jacket, “Can we talk, please?” 
You shake your head, “I meant what I said, Peter, I don't want to see you. Just go home.” 
He opens his mouth to protest but you’re quick to shut the window and draw the blinds close. You walk back into the kitchen, glancing over your shoulder expecting to see your cat following close behind but much to your surprise, he’s waiting by the door. The sight made your heart hurt, “Snaps… I’m sorry buddy but he’s not coming.” 
—————————————
Disaster. 
That’s exactly how you’d describe the state of your kitchen. Your sink was piled high with mixing bowls and baking pans but it was all worth it once you added the final dusting of rainbow sprinkles to the frosted cake. 
“Okay, Snaps, the cake is done, emergency chocolate chip cookies are in the oven. How do we feel about Coming to America tonight?” You ask aloud as you slice into the cake. 
You look up at him perched on the windowsill, head poking around the blinds to watch the rain pour outside.“I’m going to run upstairs, you stay he–” you’re cut off by your ringtone, “Hey Mrs. Temple, I was just about to bring some cake up for you guys.” 
“He’s still here, dear.” Her words made you feel uneasy, “He came back?” 
“I’m not sure he ever left….he’s just sitting there.” You rush over to the window, pulling the blinds back, squinting your eyes trying to catch a glimpse of him on the stoop. “Oh my god! Can I call you back?” You didn't wait for her reply before ending the call. 
You can feel your chest tighten as you leave your apartment and make the short walk to the building’s entryway. You inhale sharply before opening the door, to reveal Peter scrabbling to his feet. The rain mercilessly beats against his already drenched skin, he looks completely exhausted. “Hi,” his voice comes out as a whisper. 
“Are you out of your fucking mind? Do you have any idea of how sick you'll get?” You scold him, stepping aside and opening the door wider for him to enter. 
“I’m sorry,” he croaks out as he follows closely behind into your apartment, you ignore his words and the way Snaps starts to nuzzle against Peter’s leg only to pull away when he feels the cold and wet fabric of Peter’s jeans, “Go warm up in the shower, I’ll bring you a towel and some clothes,” you say walking into your bedroom. 
You search through your drawer for something warm, eventually settling on a pair of flannel pajamas bottoms he’d left at your place for the nights he slept over, the sweatshirt you’d slept in the night before, and a pair of your fuzzy socks he stole from you. 
You use your knuckle to knock on the bathroom door, “Peter? I’m coming in,” you said, turning the handle. “No, wait!” Peter calls out but he’s too late, you’ve already seen it. His suit. 
“What the fuck!” Your eyes go wide as you scan the spider symbol on his chest. 
Peter freezes, paralyzed by fear, this was not how you were supposed to find out. “It’s not what it looks like!” he blurts out, voice laced with panic. He watches your shoulder slump back and your eyes well with tears, you’ve never felt worse. 
“Please, don’t cry. I can explain–” the sound of the oven’s timer going off causes you to shift your focus, shoving the towel in his hands. “I laid some clothes out for you,” was all you said before hurrying towards the kitchen. 
—————————————
You were sprawled out on the couch, staring at the ceiling trying to make sense of it all. Every moment you spent with Peter replaying over and over again in your head, mentally berating yourself for not piecing everything together sooner. All the cuts and bruises you’ve cleaned and iced, the dates he missed ‘cause he ‘lost track of time’, every question he’d answer vaguely or just flat out avoid, every question you wanted to ask but held your tongue afraid you would come off as pushing or invasive and he’d leave. 
The sound of the bathroom door opening and closing followed by Peter’s faint footsteps and a soft meow causes you to shut your eyes, bracing yourself for the impending conversation to be had. You listened intently as his steps got closer and closer until they stopped right in front of the couch, you had a feeling he was standing over you and your suspicions were confirmed when a droplet of water falling onto your forehead caused you to open your eyes. 
The sight of Peter cradling Snaps like a baby immediately comes into view, “Sorry about that,” he says, shifting your cat to support him with just one arm, and using his now free hand to wipe your forehead. 
“It’s fine,” you mumble, sitting up and scooting over, patting the spot next to you. 
An awkward silence falls over the room, neither of you not knowing where to begin, “Thank you for doing this– for letting me in.” Your leg bounces as you try to work up the nerve to finally address the elephant in the room, opening your mouth to speak but shutting it when no words seem to come out until, “So…you’re Spider-Man?”
Peter swallows thickly, “I am.” 
“Oh,” you say nervously fiddling with your fingers, “I guess it makes sense.” 
“It does?”
You shrug your shoulders, “The longer I think about it…yeah. I’ve always assumed that whoever was under the mask was too smart and too courageous for their own good, no one fits that description better than you. And then there's every single injury you’ve ever had ever, no one trips and falls that many times, Pete.” 
He was just about to say something until he hears you, whispering to yourself under your breath, “I can’t believe I dated a superhero.” 
“Dated?” He repeats back your use of past tense only adds to the unsettling feeling in his chest, you were giving up on him and he deserves it. 
You hum in response, “I know May told you what I said– about there only being a certain amount of times you can let someone disappoint you, and you are way past your limit. I think it’s better if we both just accept this is how things were meant to be. Look you can stay tonight but I think it’s best that in the morning all we are is strangers.” Your voice wavers at the end and it makes his heart plummet. 
Tears pool in his eyes, “S-strangers?” 
He shakes his head repeatedly, “No, no, no. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go–”
You furrow your brows at him, “And how exactly was this supposed to go?”
He hangs his head, glancing down at the cat looking back at him, Snaps stretches his paw out to touch his face, “We were supposed to talk it through, I went to the show- I bought flowers, they’re in my bag they're probably ruined now but I have them! I was going to tell you about being Spider-Man but then you weren’t there so I came here.”
“Me knowing about Spider-Man doesn’t really change anything.” 
“It doesn’t?”
“I guess It does-” he picks his head up as the words leave your mouth but it is quick to drop it again when you finish your speaking, “-just not in the way it counts.” 
“Oh,” he can feel his entire body deflate, “What does that mean?” 
 You let out a defeated sigh, “It means I understand why you were always running late or missing dates completely, and why you’ve shown up here sometimes looking as good as dead.” 
“But…?” 
“But it changes nothing about us, our relationship has never been a priority–”
He’s quick to cut you off, “That’s not true.” 
“But it is, Peter. You’ve had a million chances to prove otherwise and you haven’t. I love you-”
“I love you too.”
“-but I can’t keep doing this, I don’t have it in me anymore,” you wipe away the tears that start to roll down your cheeks. “You just aren’t reliable, Peter.”
“What if I could be reliable? Give you stability?” 
“Peter we’ve already been down this road before–” 
“It’s different this time,” he insists, “I haven’t been able to balance being me and being Spider-Man, I’ve lost so much because being Spider-Man has completely dictated my life and I was fine with it because all heroes have to make sacrifices but none of it is worth it if it means I lose you too.” 
Snaps wiggles out of Peter’s arms and onto the floor, giving Peter the chance to grab ahold of your hands, “I can be both and also give you stability, you deserve better and I’ll do everything I can to be better. I don’t want to lose you, Honey, I don’t. Please, let me show that I can be reliable–that our relationship is a priority.” 
Your silence is deafening, you do your best to avoid Peter’s pleading eyes as you weigh options,
“Parker, I swear to fucking god you better pray your lucky number is a million and one because this is the last time I’m ever doing this with you.”
He perks up immediately, eyes glistening as he processes what you said. His mouth opens but you start to speak before he’s able to get a word out, “If we’re doing this then there's a few rules I’d like to set and they’re all non-negotiable.” 
“Lay it on me.”
“Date night. Twice a month, no expectations. I don’t care if we go out or stay in, I just want a couple of nights off with my boyfriend. You flake, you’re out. Got it? ”
“Got it.”
“Wait, that made me feel like a bitch, to clarify that doesn’t apply to serious situations. I’m not going to stop you from helping or anything like that, I just want two nights out of the month reserved specifically for us.”
“I knew what you meant,” Peter reassures. 
“Could you call or text me when you get home after you’re done with Spider-Man stuff? I’d like to know you’re safe.” 
“Consider it done. Can I add a rule of my own?” 
“Go for it.” 
“Can you leave one of the windows in the bedroom unlocked for me? Since you know now I figured I could come over right after patrol and skip the whole ‘changing in an alley somewhere’ part.” 
“I can do that.” 
You stand up and start walking to the kitchen, “This isn’t a rule, it's a favor but could you run this up to Mrs.Temple? And before you ask, yes you can have some.” 
Peter trails behind you, eyes sparkling when he finally sees the baked goods on your countertop. “God, I love you,” he says, giving you a wet kiss on the cheek.
—————————————
Peter’s knuckles knocked against the door, he could hear shuffling around the room before the door opened revealing Mrs. Temple with a big smile plastered on her face. 
“Oh it’s you,” she says, her smile faltering. 
He holds out the plastic cake dish for her to take, “Uh yeah, Y/n’s asked me to bring some cake up for you guys.” 
“Mmmhm…I heard what happened,” she eyed him up and down, “and by the looks of you being here, I assume my sweet girl forgave your ass?” 
Peter nods, “She did–” 
“We’ll I’m glad things worked out,” she steps closer, poking him in the chest with her finger, “But if you ever make my baby cry again, it will be the last thing you ever do.” She takes the dish from his hand, her next words were lower than a whisper, “I know a guy.” 
“Well, you and Y/n have a goodnight, tell her I’ll give her a call in the morning,” she adds before retreating back into her apartment.
“I don't think I’ve ever been more terrified of an elderly woman than I was just now,” were the first words to leave his mouth the second he returned to your apartment. 
“Oh god, did she threaten to shoot you?” 
His eyes bulged out of his head, “She has a gun?” 
You wave his question off, “No it's just a Nerf gun.”
His mouth forms into an ‘O’, “so the implication that she could put out a hit on me was a bluff?” 
“No, she really does know a guy, he’s nice.” 
—————————————
Extra:
Your head rested against Peter’s chest, the soft thumping of his heart mixed with his hand rubbing your back made your eyelids feel heavier. 
“Pete?” 
He grunted in response. 
“Why didn’t you go home? When I told you earlier?” 
“Home is where the heart is.” 
You pretend to gag at his statement, “That was too cheesy, even for you.” 
“It’s not cheesy, it's the truth and it’s endearing.” 
7K notes · View notes
galactic-magick · 4 months ago
Note
here i come with arcane prompts bestie >:3
but this one might hurt ;-;
also SPOILERS FOR S1 IF ANYONE HASNT SEEN IT YET
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how about a reader's reaction to the council getting bombed O_O
their frantic attempts to find their lover(Viktor ofc :3), but who they find may not be the man they once knew TwT
I got a little carried away with this one bestie...
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I Thought You Were Dead: Viktor x Reader
Words: 3.2k
Warnings: Smut about halfway through. I put a *** before the smut starts in case anyone doesn't want to read that part. Reader has afab anatomy but no pronouns or feminine specific endearments are used. Also LORE SPOILERS, if you don't know what happens to Viktor in the League of Legends lore then don't read this!!
Author's Notes: This could be read as a part 2 to my other Viktor fic Nights Like This, which takes place in Act 1 whereas this takes place after season 1.
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The explosion was deafening.
You can feel your soul sink as soon as you step outside your house, watching the smoke surround the council building. Your feet start running before you’ve processed anything, pushing through the gasping crowds in the streets with their eyes glued to the same devastating spectacle.
Tears stream down your face against the dusty wind, praying to anyone who will listen that your worst fear hasn’t happened. Running as if getting there faster might change the outcome.
It can’t end like this. Not when you haven’t said everything you want to say. Not when you have so much left to do together.
Not when you haven’t said goodbye.
The truth is, you haven’t even seen your husband in several days, maybe even a whole week. He’s been distant lately, so consumed by his experiments that he rarely comes home anymore. You knew what you were getting into marrying a scientist, especially the finest scientist in Piltover, but it still hurts. It hurts to see him driving himself mad and getting sicker, refusing to let you take care of him like he used to. He doesn’t like when you come to visit him at the lab because it’s too dangerous, and he doesn’t come home because he wants to be in the lab—so you’ve stopped trying. You can’t bear to see him hardly eat or sleep for days. You know he loves you, and you still love him, but right now there’s no getting through to him, and all you can do is wait it out until he either comes to his senses or succumbs to his torturous research.
Your mind flashes back to all the fights you had, begging him to come home, begging him to let you stay by his side. You both said things you shouldn’t have, hearts torn apart in mourning of a marriage that once was so perfect. You miss the nights where you were each other's safe space, where the world didn’t feel so grand and overwhelming. You wonder when it was exactly that you stopped fighting, when you gave up on begging and simply loved him as much as you could whenever you finally saw him.
A large battalion of enforcers encircle the scene, pushing back civilians as they attempt to view what happened. The rubble has fallen into mountains, several of them on fire.
You know he was in there. He must’ve been.
“Where are the survivors?!” you demand, shoving against the enforcers.
“We have not found any yet. Please return to your home-”
You pull out the knife you keep in your pocket for emergencies, pressing it against the enforcer’s throat, “My husband was in there. I am not leaving until I find him.”
The other enforcers turn their weapons towards you, and you quickly realize you’ll never beat them with nothing but a dagger and deep rooted rage.
You drop the knife to the ground and put your hands up, awaiting your fate. Would they kill you? Send you home with a warning? Trial you?
Well, not without a council.
“Please…” the sobs return, their weapons still pointing at you. “I just want to know if he’s alive. Just let me look for his body-”
You’re cut off by hands on your wrists and mouth, handcuffing you and knocking you out.
Several months later...
You should’ve known any retaliation against an enforcer could get you thrown in here.
Back against the stone wall of your cell in Stillwater, you envision that day once again, hating yourself for being so stupid. Without the council, the enforcers have started throwing literally anyone in here. In an attempt to contain the chaos of no longer having a government, even the smallest crime or protest is equivalent to murder. All you did was threaten an officer for information on your husband, but that was enough to banish you from any possibility of ever seeing him again.
If he was alive, would he know to come find you? Or would he go back home to find you gone and assume you died? Would he throw himself back into his research regardless of the tragic accident, not even noticing you haven’t tried to visit him in months?
Most days it’s easier to just tell yourself he’s dead. The man you loved so deeply no longer exists, and you’ll never love again. This is your life now, cold and dark and hopeless.
You sink to the floor, leaning on your side in an effort to get some sleep.
Though your slumber is awakened not long after by terrifying noises down the hall.
A collection of screams, an alarm bell, and loud clanging fill your ears. You jump up, looking through the bars of your cell to get a glimpse. You see nothing, but then begin to hear stomping footsteps thundering towards your end of the hall.
You stumble back to the far wall, shaking as the footsteps get closer.
The first thing you see is a pair of glowing orange eyes staring at you through the bars, and your breath leaves your lungs.
Is this really how you’re fated to die?
With ease, the mysterious figure rips off the door with what looks like a mechanical arm. The dim light hits him, and your entire body trembles. He’s covered in metal plating and armor, his face covered with a thick mask. He doesn’t strike you as human, except for what looks like human hair falling around his head.
He walks towards you, and you cower in his shadow. What does this machine want from you? You have nothing.
He says your name, and you freeze. It’s modulated and echoed from the mask, but you are certain that’s what he said.
And you’re also certain you’ve heard that voice before.
The figure reaches his hand towards you, the cold metal of his fingers touching your face. It tingles, as if there’s energy sparking through. His other hand lifts off his mask and drops it to the floor.
“Viktor?”
Parts of his face are covered with metal plating, but it’s undoubtedly him. Same eyes, same nose, same cheekbones. His hair swooping down the sides of his forehead and the small gap between his teeth.
You throw your arms around him and kiss him, your body hitting his metal torso hard enough to leave a bruise, but you don’t care. You kiss him until there’s not a single atom of oxygen left in your lungs, and even then you risk a few seconds more, his lips worthy of causing suffocation. Your fingers slide into his hair, just as soft as your remember. He gently embraces you back, wary of hurting you with how tightly he wishes to hold you.
“Viktor—I went to find you that day—“ you pant for air. “I thought you were dead—“
“I know, darling, I know,” he kisses your forehead before fervently returning to your lips. “I thought you were dead too before I heard word of people being sent here.”
He breaks apart from you and you let out a soft whine, “Vik-”
“I have to get you out of here now, okay?”
You nod in understanding and grab onto him as he puts his mask back on. He races back down the hall, pushing any leftover guards out of his way. You cling onto him, in disbelief that he moves so fast with ease. So many questions run through your mind, but you know you’ll have to wait for answers.
He carries and holds you in silence until you both get to safety. You don’t recognize the place he’s taken you to, but it’s undoubtedly his space. The tools and gadgets all over the tables and walls, the dim light you don’t understand how anyone could work under, the journals with different equations written barely legibly. You wonder if your old home is still standing or has been taken by someone else. Either way, this is your home now.
With him.
He takes off his mask and you’re once again met with his beautiful face. Scarred and tired, but still more beautiful than you’ve ever seen him.
“I’m so sorry. For everything,” he says. “I know I will never be able to make it up to you, and I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But I am never letting you leave my sight again.”
Your bodies instinctively wrap around each-other, him picking you up and setting you down on one of his desks. The sensation is so new, since he’s never been strong enough to lift you before. Despite the novelty though, it feels as if no time has passed, as if this is a routine you’ve done every day, his hands all over you as soon as you’re alone.
You want to ignore the insanity of all this, how the love of your life has returned to you encased in metal. You want to forego all the questions, letting him continue his kisses on your neck and the wandering fingers on your thigh. You wonder what he feels like now—if it’s different—if what he can do to you now will make you forget every tear you ever shed for him.
You sigh, completely drunk on his touches.
“Viktor…” You look into his eyes, tracing your thumbs along his now metallic jaw. “I want to know what happened to you. Please.”
His caresses slow, his focus shifting to your words, “I will tell you everything, I promise,”
You grasp his hands, “Then tell me.”
He exhales, looking down at himself. He doesn’t want to think about it, doesn’t want to acknowledge the truth. He doesn’t want to risk you thinking of him differently or not loving him the same. Without you, he’d have nothing left to stay human for.
After all, he’s more machine than man now.
“I was as good as dead,” he finally says. “My injuries should’ve killed me, but an old…” he hesitates, “...friend found me. He helped me use hextech and shimmer to fix and augment my body. I’m stronger now, I can help more people now, I can protect you now. I’ve evolved beyond my human ailments-”
“Viktor,” you interrupt him. “Who helped you?”
He falls silent, fully aware you already know the answer.
“How could you?” you scold him. “How could you go back to that horrid, vile man? Who knows what he really did to you?”
“Singed may have unethical methods, but I assure you I’d be dead right now without him. You wouldn’t understand-”
“I understand that he sees you as nothing more than an experiment! What’s going to happen when this new body starts to break down? He’ll replace you with more mechanical parts until there’s nothing left of you. He does anything to make his specimens survive, and you know that!”
“So you’d rather me be dead? You’d rather still be in Stillwater, rotting your days away in misery?”
The floodgates of your glassy eyes break, and you let out the ugliest of sobs that have been building up for too long. No, you don’t want him dead, of course you don’t.
But there are fates worse than death.
You clumsily grab for him, pulling him between your legs and surrounding him with your limbs. Your lips crash together once more, this time more carnal and aggressive. Regardless of how angry you are, you can’t deny that you need him desperately. He cradles your face, wiping your tears away as they fall.
“Just promise me…” you beg into his mouth. “Promise me you won’t go back there again. Stay with me.”
“I promise,” he hums. “But you have to promise me something too.”
“What?” your eyes are already fluttering deliriously.
“You have to promise you’ll let me apologize every day of the rest of our lives,” he brushes his lips against your ear while his hands wander up your shirt, “And I think I know how you want me to do it.”
Your eyes widen, shivers already running down your spine.
***
It’s been so long, your body yearning for his as if you’ve been deprived from him for an eternity. You want to feel his new hands everywhere, his new fingers inside you…
Viktor wastes no time stripping you down, your shirt and bra flung across the room. He buries his face between your breasts for a moment before hoisting you up again, carrying you to the mattress in the corner.
“Since when do you ever have a proper place to sleep in your labs?” you laugh, sinking into the unexpected comfort.
“I didn’t get it for sleeping,” he smirks, placing kisses across your chest and shoulders, “I knew what I wanted to do as soon as I rescued you.”
“You’re telling me you got this bed just to fuck me?”
“Of course,” he shrugs, completely matter-of-factually.
You chuckle, a genuine smile stretching across your face so wide it almost hurts. You haven’t laughed or felt the pure joy and bliss of being in love in so long.
“I…” Viktor speaks again, hovering over you. “I don’t know fully what this new body can do. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“We’ll figure it out together,” you smile, intertwining your fingers with his. “Is it...different?”
“Everything’s different,” he leans down to kiss you again. “Let’s just hope it’s in a good way.”
You nod enthusiastically, pulling him down to you. His cold metal torso presses against yours, a surprisingly pleasant sensation. You quickly acclimate to the new textures of his figure, wondering if any skin still exists.
He remembers all the places you like to be touched and kissed, and you grow more impatient by the minute. You’ve needed him—ached for him. You want him in any way he can give you.
He pulls off the rest of your clothes, teasing his mechanical fingers in circles around your clit.
“Are you ready?” he asks.
“Mmhmm,” you moan, slithering your own fingers into his hair.
Viktor’s always been good with his hands, being an inventor and all. He’s never once failed to satisfy you with his hands alone since you’ve been together, and he certainly wasn’t stopping now. He goes slowly, constantly needing reassurance that you’re alright. There’s nothing sharp about his fingers, a relief to both of you. They move just like his old flesh did, pulsing in and out with the finest precision. There’s moments where you feel a slight vibration, although you’re unsure if he’s doing that purposefully. Either way, he keeps you in ecstasy until you eventually come undone.
You pull his lips back up to yours immediately, craving his taste. His hands run down your body once again before returning back to the same spot.
You yelp his name as he works more fingers inside you. This is unheard of, him going back for more so soon. You had grown accustomed to his low stamina from before, and you never minded multiple rounds being a rarity. But now there’s not a single hint of exhaustion on his face, his augments freeing him from much of the pain that used to plague him. Instead there’s determination in his eyes, a drive to make love to you until you can’t take it anymore.
He builds you up to your second orgasm of the night, kissing and holding you softly as you come down from it.
“Viktor…” you sigh, completely out of breath. “I want to make you feel good too.”
He shakes his head, watching as your hands slide down his body, “Darling, I...I’m not sure if everything works the same. You don’t have to worry about me—“
“Let me try,” you plead. “Does any of this come off?”
He nods, removing the outer layers of metal with clicks and hisses. It was hard for you to tell where the armor ended and his body began, but the more he takes off, the more you recognize his familiar silhouette. There’s still patches of flesh here and there—warm skin to your fingertips, fused with the augmentations flawlessly.
And it seems the area you’ve wanted to see is one of the places untouched.
Well, not completely untouched. It’s covered in glowing purple veins, throbbing like they’ll explode any second. Viktor looks into your eyes nervously, and you reassure him with a kiss.
“It’ll be okay,” your breaths are hot, hovering over his lips. “Now tell me what you want, darling.”
“You.” he moans as your hand takes hold of his hardness.
“Everything seems to be working fine to me,” you smile, lining him up with your entrance. “I’m ready when you are.”
He’s shaking, for the first time since all his enhancements. He’s been so strong—no—indestructible, yet one look at you and the vulnerability returns in crashing waves. He’s still the same man you fell in love with, but now he could too easily hurt you.
He presses in slowly, eyes locked on your expressions for any sign of discomfort, but they never come. Instead, the noises and faces you make could be enough for him to finish right then and there if he didn’t have such control.
“Viktor…” you sigh, pulling him towards you as he bottoms out. “I’m okay. Are you okay?”
He stamps kisses on your jaw, then nuzzles his nose into your neck, “You feel even better than I remembered.”
“Do I now?” you chuckle, brushing some of his hair out of his eyes as he looks back up at you.
“Mmhmm,” he begins to thrust in and out slowly, earning more luscious sounds from your lips.
There’s so much of him that feels the same, but the sensation is so new. Is he bigger than before? Is it just the different texture from the shimmer experiments? You’re not sure, all you truly care about is that he feels divine.
You’re both getting close, whispering “I love you’s” until the long awaited release. He holds you tightly afterwards, refusing to let go until you both catch your breath.
“Viktor,” you ruffle his hair. “As amazing as that was, I don’t think I can handle a round four.”
He chuckles, “That’s alright. I’ll only go as long as you want me to. There’s always tomorrow.”
You giggle, kissing the top of his head. You push yourself up on your elbows, looking at the mess you both made, “I think we ruined your new mattress.”
He glances as well, noticing the cum stains, some of them a light purple color, a supposed side effect of the shimmer, “We’ll get a new one. For now lets get you cleaned up.”
He picks you up in one swift motion, carrying you outside. His new lab is conveniently next to the river, and far away enough from other houses to protect your decency. The water is cold, but not unbearably so. The stickiness rinses off, and you’re left to admire your lover once again in the moonlight.
He glistens under the stars, his gaze soft and sweet, just as it’s always been. His hands never leave you, caressing your wet skin gently and adoringly.
He’s still everything you’ve ever wanted. He’s still the man you’d die and kill for.
He’s still the one you’ll spend the rest of your days with, no matter what he becomes.
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thebibliosphere · 1 year ago
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In case you were wondering how deep down the Batfam fixation hole I am, it's something I've actually been talking about in therapy a lot.
Not like, in a worried way, more just when my therapist asks me what I'm doing in my downtime, my answer always used to be either "sleeping" or "I don't have downtime. I have too much work to do."
Now my answer is "playing my Batman game" or "watching Batman show/reading comics/writing unhinged Batman x Muppet fanfic."
And my therapist is delighted. She's fucking ecstatic. She's like, "You have interests again!" and I'm like !!!! Because here's the thing.
Almost dying in 2019 kinda irrevocably fucked up my brain, like, a lot. Like a lot, a lot. And I've been grieving over that for the last few years as well as recovering from the physical aspects of it. And to cope with it, I threw myself into work even though I wasn't physically or mentally well enough, and that made everything worse, and well, if you've been here, you know.
My brain has not been kind to me for a long time. It still isn't. But I do the work. I do multiple types of therapy a week. I piece myself back together on the daily and try to remember what it means to be human and not just this numb static void that sometimes sounds like shrieking if you listen too closely.
And then randomly, a few months ago a friend bought me Gotham Knights on Steam, and it was like a light turned back on. The engine that'd been refusing to turn over for years suddenly sputtered back to life, and something in my brain went, "Hey, I remember this... this is fun?"
And then I started tentatively searching the tags here on Tumblr, and yeah, actually. I remember this. I remember enjoying this. I can dip my toes into this. This is safe. This is a childhood interest from Before the almost-dying-trauma. And besides, it won't get in the way of my work. This isn't going to consume me. Nothing consumes me like it used to. I'm too broken for that.
Except, haha, jokes on me because, for some fucking reason, Brucie fucking Wayne and his gaggle of chaotic crime-fighting children is what reached into my brain, picked up my trauma, and started shaking it loose like a category 7 earthquake.
I actually laughed about that with my therapist a few weeks ago. Of all characters, of all pieces of media, it's Batman that's helping me process a significant chunk of my emotional trauma in a healthy way.
The most emotionally constipated vigilante in superhero existence, and I'm weeping like a child every time I get an achievement in Gotham Knights, and it says some bullshit like this:
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ID: a purple steam achievement icon that says: He'd Be So Proud Of You. Reach the maximum level as any member of the Batman Family. 6.3% of players have this achievement. /end ID.
(for context, Batman is dead in this game, and you are playing as his emotionally devastated children trying to keep it together. Wailing, gnashing, crying, throwing up etc, etc.)
And my therapist, who has sat with me through EMDR sessions and a multitude of other shit designed to rewire your brain, just shrugs and says, "Sometimes we need to externalize our emotions through safe media. For you, right now, that safety is Batman having a relationship with the Muppets."
And like... okay, yeah. I'll take the win on that one.
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ilyrafe · 3 months ago
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after seeing so much one direction content these past couple of days, it got me thinking. one direction really was the last boyband to ever happen. no one will ever come close to what they did in only six years. it’s a once in a generation kind of thing to happen. they didn’t even win the x factor and ended up being the show’s biggest act, 14 years later.
yes, they were manufactured, but at the same time, they were the least manufactured band to ever exist in recent times. they didn’t dance, they weren’t actually meant to be a band, they got everything they had because of charisma and talent. these boys were so talented and charismatic. they didn’t really dress the same, they were working class teenagers with a dream and they did it. and it was beautiful.
after seeing their statements, it’s finally downing on me that one direction is really over and i will never see all five of them together again. 11 year old me is absolutely devastated, and so is 24, almost 25 year old me.
the fangirl in me never went anywhere, it turns out. i still have my 1d concert tickets (the only one i went to and zayn was still in the band!), my albums and dvds, books, theater tickets and every once in a while i would take them out of the box and reminisce of the good old days, never thinking i would mourn one of them so soon. i genuinely thought i would be way older when they would go.
i can’t help but feel so sad that liam’s last years were so erratic and horrible. he was hurting deeply and he deeply hurt other people, and there is no excuse for what he did. i mourn what he once was, what he could have been and how it all ended up being. i take maya’s allegations seriously and i encourage you to do the same. what she is going through right now is impossible to imagine.
for those saying they’re glad “an abuser died”, think about what you’re saying. his death helps no one. his victims will never get justice, he will not take accountability for his actions. no one will ever get closure.
for those saying they feel bad for hating or mocking him, you really should. he was called an opportunist for showing up at the boys’ concerts and yet, when harry would do it, everyone loved it.
liam wasn’t perfect, he fucked up a lot, but like anyone, he had the right to, at the very least, apologize. 31 is too young, and no one deserves to go like this.
all i think about is his little son, who will grow up without his dad. no kid should ever lose their parent, especially at such an young age. the fact that he never once exposed his son to the media (like many celebrities do) to protect his privacy tells me that he loved his boy and knew all too well the damage this exposure would cause.
i saw that some 1d songs are trending again, and as much as i would love to take the day to listen to them, it is too soon. i haven’t been able to watch friends since matthew perry died, haven’t been able to watch brooklyn 99 since andre bragher died and will not be able to listen to 1d for a while.
it’s too soon.
call me dramatic, i don’t really care. the most magical part of my adolescence has ended tragically and i am really at a loss.
for those who are conflicted as i am, take your time. it is okay to be sad he’s gone and, at the same time, feel disappointed or even angry. it is okay to mourn and, at the same time, support maya.
edit: i would also like to express my support to his parents, sisters, cheryl, kate and friends.
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blackjackkent · 1 month ago
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Jaheira is Not a Deadbeat
I am, as always, deeply in love with the kids' ambient dialogue while waiting for Jaheira to come inside. And it's time for me to have Opinions.
FIG: I saw her! I swear! RION: Are you sure? Maybe it was just a laborer holding a shaggy grey mop! FIG: Be serious, Rion! Who puts braids on a mop?
FIG: She'll be here any second. Maybe she's sneaking! RION: Doubtful. We'd hear her knees cracking.
And of course my favorite:
RION: Enough, Fig. There's no point getting your hopes up. She'll be back when she's back. FIG: You don't think she will! RION: I know she will. But we'll wait a little longer, if you like.
😭😭😭😭
Rion absolutely knew perfectly well what she was supposed to do from Jaheira's instructions. She just didn't want to. She's been hanging on to the desperate belief that Jaheira was going to walk through the door and make it unnecessary - and, as it turned out, she was right.
OK, fuck it, I'm doing a post about this now. :P
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Despite what the Tumblr BG3 fandom would have you believe, Jaheira is not a "deadbeat mom." Is she a parent with emotional constipation issues and way too much time at work? Sure. But so are plenty of other parents on both Toril and Earth. It's SUPER clear from the way all the kids (including Rion) talk to and about her that they LOVE her and she has been an enduring presence in their lives, and that her recent disappearance was both unusual and devastating. 
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There are books she reads the kids up in the bedroom! Fig is so excited to announce she's back, indicating that the absence is not a normal occurrence! Jhessem has convinced herself they share a bloodline! Jord got to go to the market with her as a boy! These are not the circumstances of children who do not give a shit about their parent or vice versa!
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The devnotes about Jord’s conversation in particular do not show a picture of a man with ill-will towards a mother who felt it customary to abandon him:
JORD: I tended to it. I just let it... thrive in its own independence. You know, same way you raised us. (Devnote: Well meant potshot at his mother, no malice in it) JAHEIRA: I raised you to be a sweet and kind boy. What happened? JORD: I watched what you did instead of listening to what you said. (Devnote: Amused, gently mocking his mother) JORD: This house has taken in a lot of children over the years. Mother dear was sometimes more commander than, well... mother dear. (Devnote: Smiling, explaining why he and Jaheira trade barbs. No criticism, just understated affection)
It is, perhaps, worth noting at this point as well that Jord - and Rion, and Fig, and even Jhessem - speak with that teasing, mocking tone towards Jaheira… but so does she - towards the people she cares most about, including you as the player. The kids are acting as they have learned, and words like this can and should easily be read as gestures of affection. And they clearly trust Jaheira enough to bring this playful rudeness to the fore without fear of it being misconstrued or turning into hostility.
And if they are like Jaheira in this way, they’re also not going to be comfortable showing the real depth of their feelings in front of you, the player character - who is fundamentally a stranger who has just walked into their house. Why would they? Jaheira clearly doesn’t; indeed, even her more serious conversation with Rion only takes place outside where even the other children aren’t listening. 
Perhaps most significantly, I truly don’t understand how anyone can interact with Tate for even a moment and think that Jaheira does not have a deep, if often unspoken, bond with the kids she raises:
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JAHEIRA: I hope you were hibernating, little cub, I can’t think of another reason you wouldn’t come down to say hello. TATE: Jaheira! I d-didn’t… didn’t w-want to see if you were r-really dead. They said… JAHEIRA: Who said? TATE: Jord and Rion. They didn’t think I c-could hear… JAHEIRA: You little sneak-thief. Well, they were wrong. Look! Not dead! I just… had a few adventures.
She is so soft and gentle with him in a way that she is with no one else, a way that indicates that she knows him and how his personality is different from the others. And he in turn has clearly been utterly devastated by the idea that she might be gone.
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Take, as well, the evidence provided by Minsc when he is present in these conversations! There’s plenty of evidence to indicate the degree to which Minsc is guided by Jaheira’s behavior - to the degree that a doppelganger wearing her face was the key ingredient to binding him temporarily into the Cult of the Absolute. And Minsc - far more comfortable with emotion than Jaheira, at least in some ways - is clearly very affectionate with the kids as well:
FIG: STAND ON YOUR LIVER! MINSC: It is stand and *deliver*, little Fig. Though I think I like yours better. You bellow like a true berserker!
JHESSEM: A fine day to you, saer. Are you known to this court PLAYER: Eh? JHESSEM: Ugh - play along, would you? MINSC: Lord Boo is most pleased to make your acquaintance, my lady! Word of your grace has spread far and wide among the hamster houses. (Devnote: Swooping in to preserve the child's make-believe after the player ruined it.) JHESSEM: Enchanted!
MINSC: Boo is also very well! And happy to see *you*, Rion. RION: And I him. Enough that I’ll let him keep his lumbering, sweaty steed inside.
Would Minsc have taken it upon himself to have such a comfortable relationship with these children if Jaheira did not? I doubt it. He’d be friendly, certainly, but this familiarity goes a great deal beyond that.
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And as for Rion herself - it's definitely reasonable to assume that she's had a strained relationship with Jaheira as she's grown older. (I have a lot of headcanons about this for my specific worldstate canon, but even just sticking to the game canon, it definitely seems like that's the case.) But leaving aside that - can you blame her for being upset at this particular moment?
As far as Rion knows, her mom was recently emotionally devastated for an indeterminate reason. (Minsc's apparent death. None of the kids are surprised to see him arrive, so clearly none of them knew he was supposed to be dead - but also there's no way that Jaheira didn't look afterwards like someone hollowed her out from the inside.) Then, without further explanation, she disappeared for what appears to have been several months (again, clearly not standard procedure), and after weeks of no contact, sends a seven-word message indicating she is about to die.
How exactly is Rion supposed to feel at this moment? This is an incredibly emotionally fraught circumstance, and if it's precisely representative of her overall relationship with Jaheira I will eat my hat.
Also - much is made by the game, by Rion, and by the fandom about that seven-word message, but if you try to chastise Jaheira about it, she gives further context:
PLAYER: Only seven? That’s cold, Jaheira. JAHEIRA: The cleric who cast the Sending was wounded. Should I have sobbed on her shoulder?
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Jaheira was caught in a no-win situation. Trapped in the Shadowlands, a terrifying ordeal all by itself, with a gaggle of Harpers she had to protect, many of whom had apparently been injured by their encounter with Ketheric Thorm. If the only cleric she had access to was wounded, this was before they reached Last Light and met Isobel. 
Jaheira had ZERO reason to hope at this point - but she also still felt her own inescapable responsibility towards the people under her command. To send a longer and more emotional message would have been to put strain on her injured comrade and also risk making it very clear that she felt the situation was hopeless. The Harpers very well might have broken and scattered, condemning themselves - and, frankly, many others, given their crucial contributions to the final Act 2 fight - to death.
And then she lives, against all her own expectations, and returns to the city. And her dialogue reflects her conflict over this fact as well: 
JAHEIRA: I have given you much reason to think that Harpers hoard secrets like precious stones. But I promise you, this was not some intrigue. Just, ah… plain and simple foolishness. As if by keeping clear of my family, I might keep them clear of the cult in turn. And if this fight were to go against us, well… they had already done their mourning. Why visit it on them twice?
She then goes on to discuss the city and her place in it - and relates it directly back to her kids as well.
JAHEIRA: I was wrong to think I could keep my children from this fight. They’re Baldurian born and bred - the only damned reason I root myself in this place. This city is a cesspit. An open sewer of the soul, that taints us with its filth and churns us out when all that is good has been stripped away. It also happens to be their home - and so it is mine. Ugh. That might be the first time I have said that out loud.
If Jaheira wanted to disappear and leave her kids to handle themselves, she would have done it a long time ago. It wouldn’t be hard; she is fully capable of vanishing into the wilderness never to be seen again - and in truth, there’s every reason to believe she would be considerably happier to do so… except that it would mean leaving her children behind. They “root” her in Baldur’s Gate despite all of her previous inclinations and everything that comes naturally to her, and everything she does is guided ultimately by the need to protect the city because it is their home.
And that, my friends, is love, a love that she shows even if she does not know how to voice it.
TLDR: Jaheira's absence in the Shadowlands was definitely not a normal occurrence, and her kids clearly love her deeply and were devastated by her apparent disappearance. That she is a woman who keeps herself far too busy with work and has no idea how to express her own strong feelings does not, has not, and never will make her a "deadbeat."
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jaggedamethyst · 4 days ago
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circuit breaker 🔬🌌 (part two)
tutor!jayce talis x reader college au
content: reader recently decided to get a physics tutor...it's time for the first session with jayce talis
notes: walk with me and suspend ur disbelief in the actual physics talk...i have to make it somewhat believable that they're actually having tutoring sessions so i dug into the crevices of my brain for old physics topics that aren't too hard if you know them...if you don't..hopefully jayce makes sense LMAOOOO. but i will try not to do too much physics that it takes you out of it, i just want to build the tension and relationship. just trust me.
again mentions of neurodivergence/adhd references but that’s it really
word count: 1.9k
series masterlist
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
Ekko was your longest friend—the closest one you had. He understood your brain even more than Viktor did, which was saying something. Since the day the two of you met in middle school, you became accustomed to one another. You knew each other like the back of your hands—which is why you knew he’d be so upset right now.
Immediately after leaving the student center, you scrambled to the dining hall. You and Ekko had a standing lunch date every day unless one of you said otherwise. There wasn’t always anything to say, but the idea of each other’s company comforted you—comforted him. He had been adamant that even if you two sat in silence, worked on classwork, or simply watched something on your phones, that the time was well spent.
Ekko valued these meetings in particular after his last girlfriend. You didn’t talk about Powder much…but he was devastated when she left town. The three of you had been friends for a long time…she’d abandoned you too. Acknowledging how much harder it may have been for Ekko was hard. You were forced to pick up the pieces and it started with daily check-ins over lunch. They stuck. 
You spotted him sitting alone, sipping on his drink through the glass. You tapped on it softly, getting his attention, waving.
He lit up when you approached the table, “Funny seeing you here.” Ekko looked at his watch dramatically, “Almost thought you couldn’t tell time for a second there.” 
“I am so sorry.” You moved to sit, pulling out the chair across from him. “I got caught up at the student center, needed a tutor for physics.” 
Ekko watched you reach and grab his bag on the table. He rolled his eyes knowingly—you were going for the fries of course. 
You continued, “Viktor recommended this guy, his lab partner.” 
Ekko nodded, “Thats great…but I’m also good at physics ya know?” 
“Oh yes, I totally forgot to ask my best friend to be my tutor. My best friend who knows I cannot stay on topic to save my life…wants me to ask him to be my tutor…so we can definitely not work on physics for the entire session.” You paused, a fry just on your lip, “Besides, I didn’t really have a choice.” 
“Okay first, I would be a great tutor! And second, what do you mean, didn’t have a choice?” 
“Viktor kinda just…led me there?” 
“So you didn’t have a chance to get yourself worked up and find a way to not go…great tactic on Viktor’s part.” 
There was a silence, but never uncomfortable when you were with Ekko. You smiled to yourself at that, and then about how surprisingly well the first meeting went. 
“He seemed nice…Jayce…my tutor.” 
Ekko reached into his bag, grabbing his sandwich. “Am I sensing a but?” 
“No, actually. He just seemed genuinely invested in me not feeling bad when it comes to sucking at school.” You paused, rubbing your hands in a napkin. “He said we could work on making it all seem more interesting…which I liked.” Ekko still hadn’t unraveled his sandwich, listening intently. You watched him observe you, but not speak up. “What?” 
He shook his head, “Nothing…that’s great.” 
The rest of your lunch was spent quietly recounting your days, not much of note happening otherwise. Eventually, you parted ways with an unspoken yet understood promise that you would see each other tomorrow. 
Your first session with Jayce was also tomorrow. That was on top of everything else you had to do. So much to be done…such little time, you thought. 
The following day came just as quickly as the previous had ended. You woke in a frenzy, almost always rushing to and from one class and toward the next. Then, to tutoring. 
You stumbled in, looking for any familiar face. You were met with only one, Jayce’s. He stood quickly, grabbing a folder and his bag before approaching you. 
“Right on time.” He turned, walking you toward a room off to the side. “This will be the office we use, I requested one with a white board.” He glanced back at you for affirmation before speaking again. “If you ever come for our meetings and don’t see me in the lobby, you can just come in here.” 
“Sounds good.” Your lip curled at your voice coming out more weak than you expected. You had to admire your own consistent ability to embarrass yourself, truly. 
He stepped back, allowing you to walk in first, again. “So…I printed these forms out for you.” He opened the folder, taking out some of the pages and spreading them on the table. “This is the basis for everything you’ll need to know about physics. There’s legends here, conversion charts, some of the greek symbols you’ll need to know, circuit diagrams, acronyms…everything.” You slowly sat in your chair, observing the filled pages. Jayce noticed you looking between the table and him with wide eyes. 
“This is a lot of information…” 
He finally sat down. “It is…but we have time to get you up to speed.” 
“But there’s these quizzes.” You looked down at the table, tapping a finger lightly against the wood. “Every week we have to prove we understood the concept and I am already weeks behind so it just keeps building on things I didn’t even understand to begin with. I don’t have time, I have to pass the quizzes so I can pass the class and keep my scholarship. If I lose my scholarship, I can’t pay for school and I’ll have to drop out. And all of this over stupid fucking physics and a professor who seems to want to ruin my life specifically.” You finally took a breath, “I can’t do this.” 
“I think you can.” 
Your eyes snapped up, meeting his. The look on his face seemed sincere—as if he truly believed in the statement. Hardly knowing you at all, he had enough faith that you could, in fact, do this.
“So,” he clasped his hands together. “What’s this next quiz on? What’s the topic for the week?” He got up, grabbing a marker from the white board’s small shelf. He looked at you expectantly, a brow arching as if to ask you again. 
“Vectors.” 
He nodded, “Okay, and what confuses you about vectors?” 
“Well, I feel like I’m pretty good at understanding angles. But as soon as we add in speed or velocity I am just…confused.” 
“Let’s start there.” He wrote the words speed and velocity on the white board in broad strokes, leaving space beneath each. “What is speed? Don’t think about it too hard.” 
“How fast something is going?” 
“Exactly, like a car.” He drew a makeshift car, and an indicator of both miles and kilometers. “Velocity is different.” He sketched a quick graph, a simple y and x axis and an arrow. “Velocity indicates the direction of an object.” His hand followed the trail of the arrow he drew, emphasizing that it was in motion. “So, velocity is the only one that actually would be considered when you look at vectors. Speed is just a number…velocity represents a change in position…which is what vectors do.” 
You grimaced at his attempt to make it make sense for you. The effort was appreciated, truly, but it didn’t stick. You feigned understanding, nodding your head in an attempt to get him to move on and explain more. This was common for you. Something wouldn’t make sense, but you wouldn’t want to hold everyone up, to be a burden. So you would sit in class, half listening, half in another world. After class, you’d be forced to scour videos about the very subject the teacher had spent class time explaining. Unfortunately that was a rabbit hole, too, as you would always end up on videos that had nothing to do with school. 
His eyes narrowed, not believing that your nod was enough of an indicator that you understood. “Come with me.” He moved to grab the papers for you, stuffing them in the folder and sliding them to you. You followed without a thought, trying to match his steady pace. He lead you to a nearby park down the street and sat his bag underneath a tree. You copied, placing your bag down beside his. It was impossible to not feel awkward, and yet, he persisted. 
“Okay stand here,” he pointed a finger to a random spot on the ground. Your feet stood perfect on the space where the asphalt and grass met, one foot on each side. “So just imagine that standing here, you are the bottom of a line graph along the x-axis. He moved his hand side-to-side, palm down, reminding you that this would be the horizontal line. Hotdogs and hamburgers. You remembered the silly phrase from elementary school. 
“Okay, standing here…x-axis.” 
He walked over to the grass side, “Okay, over here…in the nice green grass…this is positive.” He walked over to the asphalt, “I’m on your left now, on the asphalt…this is negative.” 
“…Okay.” 
He walked to mirror your position, one foot on each terrain. Then, he slowly stepped on the grass. “Without thinking about numbers, how would you describe what I just did.” 
“You…” Your brows furrowed, “You walked to the grass?” 
“Right, and that is-“ 
“Positive?” 
“Exactly.” 
In a split second, he darted over to the asphalt. “How bout now?” 
“You ran to the…to the negative?” 
He nodded, meeting you back at center again. He smirked at how quickly he’d even come up with this demonstration. “This is an example of how vectors work. When you think of me running somewhere, picking up my speed, but moving to the quote unquote ‘negative,’ this could also mean that from my original position-“ 
Your eyes lit up, “You moved backwards?” 
“Yup, or even down. On a graph, I mean.” He smiled with each word, amused by how you caught on to his unorthodox teachings. “But if I move slowly and to the ‘positive’ side?” He waited for you to answer.
“You…moved up or to the right.” 
“Just like a point on a graph.” He stood, hands on his hips. 
You were on the edge of every word he spoke, analyzing his every movement. You knew it was inopportune, but it was rather characteristic for you to lose focus right then. Jayce’s eyes were…interesting. Your first instinct was to say that they were yellow. When you looked closer you noticed the border of dark brown, the flecks of hazel and copper. It was unlike anything you’d ever seen. You got so caught up, you missed his hand coming up—leaving it lingering in the air. 
“What,” he questioned, “Do you not like high-fives as encouragement?” 
You chuckled, finally meeting his hand with yours. “I actually prefer snacks as encouragement, but this works.” 
It was his turn to laugh, then. It was short-lived. You followed his line of sight to see the same woman from the resource center, the one he’d been so enraptured by. Rightfully so; she was even more beautiful than you thought. The sunlight hit her skin just right, almost glistening. You gulped, somewhat intimidated by her presence alone. 
She reached you both, immediately giving Jayce a hug before turning to greet you. 
“Hey, how’s the tutoring going?” She nudged the man beside her, looking to you for an answer. 
“It’s going well,” you glanced at your phone screen, shit. “I actually should get going, but today was really helpful, thank you Jayce, bye.” 
You shuffled to grab your things as quickly as possible, avoiding the look of surprise on Jayce’s face. It didn’t really matter, though. 
Ekko was going to be pissed, again. 
part three
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hello-there-neighbor · 3 months ago
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This is my very first Tumbler post, so please forgive me for any weird formatting. @dcxdpdabbles and @rboooks have this amazing DPxDC AU called Adoptive Son; please read it, it is so great! Obviously, there will be spoileres, so ye be warned and all that jazz. Anyway, I had an idea for a scene and really wanted to share it, so here it goes:
This would take place during part 6, after Danny's arrest, but before Tim's attack. Danny gets a phone call, right? (Like that's a thing when you get arrested, you get to make one phone call?) Obviously, he calls Dick. I'm going to say because the Gotham police are mad at him, ya know, being the "child trafficker" that he is and all, they wait as long as they possibly can to let him call, but when they finally do, he calls Dick. I pictured it like this:
It had been weeks but finally, finally, they were letting him talk to Dick. Nothing else mattered to him. They could put him away, and even dismantle the company; he could escape, he'd actually need to finish and then use the portal, which he had, he was ashamed to admit, moved to be a minor priority in his actually pretty great half-life here, but he’d figure a way to make it work with Dick and Tim, and everyone else would be able to find work again... eventually. He just needed to make sure his family knew it wasn't true. That's all that mattered to him. Of course they would know in their hearts, but he couldn't let them worry like that; even a little doubt would be devastating to them, he was sure. The phone rang... and rang... and rang... ‘please’, he thought, ‘please please please, pick up! Please come o-’
"Hello?" Dicks voice was tired and hoarce, he couldn't shake the image it painted of Dick, tearstained and distraught, more sleep deprived than even Danny had ever been.
"Listen! They aren't going to give me much time." Dick remained silent on the other side, so he barroled on into the ramble he had been needing to let out for weeks. "I don't know how much you've heard, but I didn’t do this! Please, you need to believe me. I didn't do this! I don't know where they're getting evidence from, but it's not true! I swear I didn't! You know that, right? You know I could never! You know I didn't do this."
"Yes, you did." Danny's heart stopped, not that he needed it, but still. "I found it, Crowne, the journals, everything. I turned you in." Danny felt his core crack.
"What? No... No, y-you wouldn't!" Tears were falling on his cheeks now, but he didn't bother to wipe them away. "You know me! You know who I am! You know I w-" He was cut off before he could finish. "Yes, I do, and yes, you would." Diletone rang in his ears even after he had been forcibly pulled away from the receiver. His face was blank. Only one word could describe the pain and betrayal and loss he was feeling: CRACK!
So ya… thanks for humoring me! And thank you @dcxdpdabbles and @rboooks, for writing this story to begin with! You are super crazy talented and should be so proud of yourself!!!
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