#okay okay fr that's that on that i am UNLEASHING THIS NOW

[rockingbytheseaside]

omg, I am quite literally in love with your work.

pls I cannot tell you how frickin ecstatic I am when I read your stuff 😭 like I’m Fr Rolling on the floor and stopping every five secs bc of the butterflies-

AND! I saw that your asks are open!! (If I misread/misunderstood then I’m so sorry and just ignore this) I was wondering if you could do Harbingers x reader when they find reader quietly weeping- like reader thought they were alone and didn’t wanna burden them :3 romantic if you would !!

no pressure ofc!!!! fr I love ur stuff sm like I’ve been reading ur stuff OVER AND OVER😭😭😭

(bshdhsgdhagjds Okay, let me just hold in my tears- that’s so kind of you anon! Sorry for making you wait, I hope this is something similar to what you wanted) 

✦ How they comfort you when you cry

Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche, Pantalone, Childe

Sometimes, your days might feel bitter, and sometimes the weight of your inner struggles can accumulate into a somber heap of self-doubt. Whether it was a minute inconvenience that resulted in your dampened mood, or stressful memories of the past – the reasons behind it fade into insignificance. Because next thing you know, you feel your shoulders slightly shaking, and your hand reaching to conceal your silent weeping. Thus, when talking becomes a burden and your breath runs short, your beloved is the first to listen to your sniffles.

✧ Pierro’s already icy gaze becomes unreadable. Is it fear? Is it astonishment? Or is it the readiness to unleash hell upon anything that compelled you to shed these silent tears? He sees you hugging yourself, trying to shield yourself away from him. His gloved hands cautiously reach for your form, like a blanket wrapping itself around your shoulders. 

“My divine one, why hide your tears away from me? Why conceal the sadness in your eyes when you silently weep? Please, grace me with your gaze and look at me.” 

His voice is careful despite its deepness, suppressing his boiling temper at the sight of your sadness. He reaches for you tenderly, and when you turn towards him, you allow yourself to cry further into his chest. He cradles you silently, never once wasting breath on simple shushes or admonishments to cease crying. No, The Jester will hold you, let his lips press softly to your forehead, and let you cry as much as you need. He'll personally worship and wipe every teardrop off your cheek. 

Yet despite his gentle arms, you sense him shaking. His gloved hands hold you securely, yet subconsciously gripping. Because pray to the archons above, he will not rest until the source of your sadness is annihilated. 

✧ Il Capitano never saw you cry before. He saw you as an equal in matters of battles, duels, and personal life. Through ups and downs, your best and worst. And yet the imposing, mighty Captain never witnessed his beloved’s face slowly scowl and emit those saddened sobs as you're doing now. 

“No… who bestowed such sadness onto you, my cherished? What sorrows are you fighting?” 

He asks, half in disbelief and worry. The Captain kneels down, the back of his armored hands gracefully meeting your face. He makes sure you’re not physically in pain, his touch asking permission for the simplest caress. You might feel embarrassed to explain why you're crying, but the Captain will coax you to talk only if you bestow him this honor. Otherwise, he never mocks or admonishes you for crying – “This is not a sign of weakness, but a sign of humanity in your strength.”

To soothe you, he'd drape an arm around your shoulder, bringing the side of his coat to shield you. If you desire, he'd immediately discard his coat entirely and wrap it over your shoulders. And if you desire neither this or that, he'd silently kneel, asking for permission to pick you up in his forearms, so you may rest on his shoulder while he carries you away. 

✧ You cannot conceal your sorrows from Il Dottore. He suspects you are feeling dejected before you even realize it. Should your shoulders quiver and tears well in your eyes, he'll be the first to perceive it. His already tense countenance will harden, and in short, murderous intent, he’ll ask:

“Who did this to you?”

His first suspension is that someone foolish enough dared to hurt you, and his next task is to seek out that moron. And stars above, if someone did ruin your day, the Doctor will have a new cadaver on his lab table. You'll have to physically restrain the Harbinger in front of you by putting your hands on his shoulder and explaining hurriedly that no one did anything harmful. 

Il Dottore won't quell his inner rage so easily though. As you shake your head, and rub your eyes, it will require much persuasion to convince him that it’s not as dire as he suspects. Nonetheless, Dottore will keep a tight hold on your form. If he won't murder someone in rage, then he'll prepare a soothing beverage and wrap you up in a comfortable seating so you may rest your weary head. He’ll have to personally drag you to sit by his lap so you won’t desolate yourself into a depressive fit again. 

“Wasting your breath and energy on crying is a futile endeavor. You'll only tire your body out… so rest in my arms before your mind starts weaving more puny sentiments.” 

✧ The ever-prideful and strict Scaramouche would find himself faltering into silence when the unfamiliar sound emanates from your being. The hiccupped sounds of choked cries are not foreign to him - he recognized them very well and was personally acquainted with the physical pain of crying. But seeing the closest being, the one he calls most cherished, to unexplainable weep was a new form of pain he had never experienced. 

“... Are you-? What's wrong, are you hurt? Did something-!”

An expression of shock and fear bestows the Balladeer, his hands are reluctant and afraid to cross your boundaries when you cry in front of him. His first instinct is to believe that he has erred, that he has hurt you or spoken insensitively. Anguished, his fist tightens, dreading your stern rejection. Yet, all it takes is a gentle shake of your head and a soft reassurance - no, he hasn't actually done anything wrong.

His brow will remain furrowed, and only under your permission, he would glue himself to you in a reassuring embrace. It's only after he's assured of your safety and well-being that the Harbinger begins to ease up and scoff. Maybe, just maybe, he will go and bring your favorite sweets afterward. Regardless, his hands kept cupping your face, thumbs gently wiping your tears.

“Ha, you’re that sensitive that you’d weep at the most minor inconvenience? Fine, I’ll stay here. But don’t get too comfortable. And you better stop apologizing for crying. You should never say sorry for something like that. It’s in your right to cry… Just come to me when something’s troubling you, alright?”

✧ You cannot recall a single instance when Pantalone's captivating smile ever wavered. The man has perfected his charismatic, million-mora smile that only you can discern if he’s being genuine or not. But to witness it dropping completely in a cold stare while you cried was chilling. You felt scared, as the Harbinger grew eerily silent with each slow step, he demanded:

“... Give me names and I will make sure they will disappear permanently.”

You jolted. This was bad, and it sure didn’t quell your sobbing as you hurriedly shook your head. Pantalone took a deep sigh, his brain forced to flip a switch and change to a more tender tone so he wouldn’t scare you further with his sinister rage. He will deal with the causes later. What mattered now was your shaken state. Hence, like the dotting lover he is, he softly inquired whether you wish to talk or have some privacy. 

If you willingly welcomed his physical touch, then prepare yourself for a day filled with him enfolding you tightly. He will draw you near, letting you cry your frustrations out until you get fatigued and rest against his lean chest. The Regrator always fulfills his pledges, gently rocking you back and forth. He will vow to spoil you on the next shopping spree and purchase everything you desire - luxuries, clothes, perfumes, or fancy meals, all of it is yours with a snap of his fingers (even if you reprimand his indulgence). His embraces are tenacious, endless kisses raining down on your face until you plead and whine to be released from his insistent hugs.

"My heart, how can I possibly release you when you should be adorned with kisses instead of tears? I am afraid I won’t be so easily reassured until I see your smile again."

✧ Tartaglia’s highlight of the day is mirroring your luminous smile; hence when he first heard your sorrowful sniffles, it felt like a sudden dark cloud washed past him, pouring cold water to wipe his smile off in an instant. Without hesitation, his hand found itself on your shoulder as he guided you to sit first.

“Hey, hey… What’s wrong, darling? I’m here, it’s alright.”

He observes your attempt to explain the root of your troubles, but as you try to elaborate, your tears only intensify against your own will. Kneeling in front of you, his gaze was resolute - he now had a mission. He will immediately soothe your mood with tender words of endearment, lighthearted banter, and the occasional joke here and there, anything to make you crack up with that sweet smile he so adores.

Tartaglia will remind you that first and foremost, he is your Ajax - the one who will bring laughter through his playful teasing and delightful humor during your times of melancholy. The one who will cook you the best Snezhnayan Bliny better than any pancake restaurant. And the one who will always be there so you can lean your head on his shoulder and just feel his heartbeat as he embraces you deeply. In any other circumstances, he is the 11th of the Fatui Harbinger who will work and bloody his fists for your safety. However, for now, you shouldn’t occupy your thoughts with such concerns.

“Hey, it’s alright… You don’t have to feel embarrassed for crying. We all have bad days from time to time. How about this, leave today’s dinner on me. I shall cook your favorite even better than you could imagine! Or else what sort of boyfriend would I be if I’m not spoiling my darling.” 

[melmedarda]

Hi!!! I love your theories and absolute adoration for Mel (we stan a queen!!). Wondering what you think of Ambessa wearing white now? There's some REAL interesting imagery of her painting red over the white of Mel's Piltover.... I'm foaming at the mouth over it fr

Hello lovely person! Thank you for your kind words and for sending this in! You have no idea what you've unleashed.

Okay so I have an entire theory on this. Two really. Her wearing lighter colors is reminiscent of Mel donning darker colors when Ambessa shows up. But the increase of gold in her wardrobe is that she is becoming more and more aligned with family interests rather than Noxian interests. Through Arcane, gold is used as a motif to represent or allude to Mel & the Medardas. At first, we see when Ambessa arrives, she is wearing no gold, but she dons gold only after what we assume the worst has happened to Mel. Her allegiance is not to Noxus, but to her family.

And then, for her clothing. Ambessa is giving very much wolf in sheep's clothing. Notice that Piltovan fashion is light/brighter than Noxian garb. Ambessa adopts this bright, ornate way of dressing, I think, to have them think she is part of them. She is on their side. However, we know that Ambessa has a fox and wolf philosophy, and what is the most well-known wolf in Runeterra?

Kindred the wolf, the entity of a violent death, wears the mask of the sheep, and the sheep, entity of the gentle death wears the mask of the wolf. The wolf is in "sheep's clothing". And notice she wears a mask for war.

But Gentle, that is a reach, even for you. Ambessa's mask does not even look remotely like Kindred's. I am aware, but who remembers local cuisine?

He was not only Ambessa's escort, but he wears the wolf mask. The very fact that he is so closely associated with Ambessa rang alarm bells in my head from the moment I saw who he was and made the connection between them. Ambessa wears a mask, but behind her mask is not beauty, or pleasure. Pleasure, bright clothing is her mask. Her true face, is the face of death. Of war. And next season, everyone will know, but too late. Far too late.

[amillieaway]

prompt: that hurts

They break up in the middle of dinner.

Maybe at a restaurant Granger would have avoided a scene, but because they were staying in, yet again, and because Draco insisted on it, she takes full liberties in unleashing hell upon him.

At one point plastic cutlery and teriyaki-stained wooden chopsticks are airborne. Later, when Draco undresses, he finds a rice noodle in the buttonhole of his blazer. And for the grand finale, shards of his great-aunt’s vase become a mosaic on his foyer floor, once valued at some fifteen thousand galleons. Now, worthless.

She’ll be back, he thinks, quite confidently. He experienced a similar rockiness when he dated Pansy. They broke up and got back together at least every other fortnight.  

A day goes by.

Three, five, ten—and nothing.

Fine, Draco relents, he’ll write to her.

It’s a fine letter. Bottomless black squid ink, proof-read four times, eloquently expressing that he misses her, that he’s sorry they haven’t been together in public places and, if she’s willing to hear him out, he’ll take her out for a proper meal. She can even tip-off the Daily Prophet if it pleases her.

She doesn’t reply.

Draco grows irritable. He begins to resent her a little.

Once, before the war destroyed his reputation, any girl would have been thrilled Draco Malfoy was giving her the time of day. He was good-looking. He was wealthy. His family was connected to top politicians and moguls in the Wizarding World. He was Slytherin’s Seeker. She would have been lucky to date him.

So what, they haven't been out in public after a couple months of dating? That gives her no right to give him the cold shoulder and act like they never knew one another.

To hell with her.

Days pass, and Draco is gutted. Wrecked.

Her absence hurts and hurts and hurts.

He catches himself staring out into space at odd moments. Over a bowl of soggy cereal, trying to remember what her hair smelled like. Peach? Pear? Wiping the same spot on the window for five minutes, knowing it’s Sunday, and somewhere on the other side of town, she must be cleaning her flat too.

He caves and writes to her once more.

This time, with more apologetic and less arrogant undertones.

Radio silence.

He knows she’s receiving them because he prodded gossip out of Blaise who lives with Pansy who bumped into Potter at a party, and Potter drunkenly blurted out that ‘your douchy friend Malfoy’s still trying to win Hermione back. She needs to forget that wanker, if you ask me.’

Well nobody asked you, Potter, thank you very much.

And so Draco spirals a little.

He sends fifty-three bouquets to her office. One for each day they were together. When he hears nothing, he follows it up with fifty-three cauldron cakes. When that proves no bueno, he hires a mariachi band to follow her around the Ministry, singing cheery love ballads. He’s given them express instructions to perform until she visits him.

That should prove he’s more than okay with everyone knowing they’re together. He doesn’t care. All he needs is Granger back. Because-because—

“I miss you,” he says when she Apparates into his office precisely thirty-seven minutes after he unleashed the mariachi band upon her, holding out longer than he expected.

She’s red in the face, shoulders bunched up to her ears, eyes blazing, pointing a finger at his chest. “You are the most infuriating, conceited, over-the-top…”

“I miss you,” he repeats, speaking over her as he rounds the desk to meet her on the opposite side.

“…PRAT I have ever had the misfortune…”

“I miss you so much.” He has her shoulders, forcing them down a little, pressing his thumbs right where he knows she needs it most, watching delightfully as they liquify even as she’s going on.

“…encountering and when I’m done with someone, Draco, I am DONE…”

“I need you back, Hermione.” He draws his palms down her arms, grabbing her hands and pinning them to his chest when she tries to swat him away.

“…and I refuse to date anybody who’s even slightly ashamed of where I come from…”

“I love everything about you.”

And that about does it.

Granger stands there, mouth agape, no more screaming. She drops her gaze to her hands, splayed open on his chest, realising, perhaps, how close they are. Feeling, maybe, how her presence alone turns Draco on. Seeing, hopefully, the authenticity in his gaze.

“You… you…”

“I love you,” he says, prepared. “I’m sorry you had to leave before I realised it.”

“Harry says I need to forget you.” She’s staring at his lips now, making no effort to step away.

“Potter’s a wanker.”

She frowns, but doesn’t seem angry. Her eyes grow distant, lost in thought.

He waits.

When her focus resurfaces, she's watching his lips again, heat creeping into her irises. “Kiss me on two conditions.”

“One?” he asks, heart racing.

“We tell everybody.”

Her breath is warm on his skin. Deliciously close. “And two?”

“You never send anything to my work ever again.”

It’s the sweetest deal he’s ever made.

xx

[baeshijima]

so. um. haha.

:D

2.5 general story spoilers utc !!

first off. THAT WAS SUCH A GOOD QUEST??? it made me tear up a few times *cough* basically all scenes with jiaoqiu *cough* and??? goodness.

i do really like how we got more lore abt the past (high-cloud quintet my beloved tragedy.... sniffle sob sob sniffle...) and like,,, the first mention of good intention in the image below jing yuan was talking abt was probably referencing when dan feng and yingxing did that whole vidyadhara transfusion thing to try and resurrect baiheng only for it to backfire

;w;

bUT ALSO ??? HELLO ???

ik i posted abt this already but like,,, u mean to tell me lingshas mentor forcibly made dan heng regain his memories, being the whole reason he couldnt separate himself from the past for basically his entire life and having to live with the sins he himself did not commit, having to carry that burden without knowing nor understanding why, constantly followed by the shadow of his past (also blade. he followed him too.) when all the other vidydhara couldnt remember their previous lives because they were not supposed to; the rebirth is to start anew and yet he was not given the choice for that.....

sob dan heng..... the more we get to know u the more i literally cry for u bc what the fyuch

aND NOW JIAOQIU MY PRECIOUS BABY I AM SOSJKFD RAAAAAHH AS I UNLEASH MY INNER ALPHA WOLF SHIRT TEARING IMAGE WITH TEARS STREAMING DOWN MY FACE

the light in his eyes being non-existent when he doesnt understand why those he saved went back just to die and questioning his purpose vs the light coming back after finding it again and understanding that their deaths were not meaningless...

he just wanted to save everyone he could, only for them to die right after and not understanding why they would foolishly run back into death just when they escaped it while beating himself up over yet another death he couldnt prevent, and then coming to terms with the fact that was their version of what they believed to be true virtue and righteousness, fighting for what they believed in even if it killed them.

and his deprecating laugh (at least in cn voice over. idk abt the other languages) from [everything i'm doing now... even your death has value...] because he was fully prepared to die and have the last laugh knowing hoolay would go down with him from the poison...

make the pain stop....

stop it... ur life isnt insignificant... ur life has meaning...

stop.... him losing his vision as a result of the poison when he was fully prepared to die for the cause of hoolays death ;w;; ourghg a moze just solemnly watching over jiaoqiu but he didnt know until he spoke bc he couldnt see him 😭😭 istg if we dont have a continuance or smth where we heal jiaoqius eyes i am going to explode 🧍‍♀️

on another slightly more lighthearted note, I AM???? SO UNWELL?????

YANQING MY SON???? no bc i fr was wondering how tf jingliu was gonna be on the luofu just to fight hoolay bc she wasnt even on the luofu, but it ended up being yanqing remembering jinglius advice/sword art right before hoolay could kill him and resembled her so much in that moment, to the point hoolay himself thought he was facing against jingliu??? the previous sword champion???? the only one who could subdue him?????

okay. but like. despite him being a literal killer and enslaved foxians and stuff, i actually did like his character quite a bit in the sense that he does give respect where it is due, and acknowledges the strengths and weaknesses of both himself and his foes. he acknowledged and commended jiaoqiu on his tenacity (also cursing him out a lot when we fought him like damn calm down on the obsession),he gave acknowledgement and respect to feixiao, even saying she was the only one suited to take over for him, he gave respect to yanqing for besting him and accepting his loss. well. until the whole crimson moon fiasco. but thats next :D

okay. now feixiao.

loved loved LOVED all of the cutscenes she was in so much like genuinely all of her cutscenes gave me chills and were so well done !! the one where she used yukongs bow and arrow to eliminate basically all the borisin in aurum alley... my god that was hot... (the drawback from the curse wasnt, but we ignore that ahhah)

AND THIS ONE !!!!

LIKE ??? the execution in this whole cutscene was so good. just when we thought we were done with hoolay, he basically tears his heart out for the destruction of the starsplitter with feixiao using her spirit to consume it, which basically meant she was hoolay/hoolay was her for a little... and then the trio fighting controlled feixiao... and her slumping from exhaustion when she defeated hoolay in her conscience... ourgh....

no but she is such a cool character and i loved the progression of her background reveal and her morals + virtues + beliefs as well as hoolay exposing her fears and seeing that one of her worst ones was losing control to the crimson moon curse and (unintentionally) betraying everyone :(

AND THE WHOLE "you are me just as i am you, we are one in the same" PARALLELS COILS FOILS RAAAHH???

gosh and then when he used her /real/ name as well from when she was a war slave.... when the characters are enemies but have more resemblance to one another than they do with their own allies/companions, meaning they understand each other better than how their own people do... ohh this trope.... it gets me every time...

feixiao even tho u literally used up all 26k jades and 50 warp tickets for e0 s1, meaning i have to scrap all the currency i can get for sunday and pray he is nice to me, i am glad i got u <33

also these were so silly 😭 us and bailu being dramatic over march bc she left her camera out on the bench while going to the toilet and then yunli just being a menace as per usual ;w;

but. uhm.

haha. jing yuan u are looking beautiful as always i am glad i got to see and hear u several times this quest <33

buy. uhm. again.

WHAT. luocha and jingliu mention... meeting with marshal hua (it should have been me... i should have met marshal hua...)... LUOCHA HAVING A FRAGMENT OF THE PROPOGATIONS DIVINE BODY IN HIS COFFIN???? THEM TEAMING UP WITH RUAN MEI??? HELLO WHAT PLS EXPLAIN HSR DEVS?????

aND HELLO THIS IS SO CRAZY TO DROP RIGHT AT THE END???

TINGYUN COMEBACK??? AS IN REAL TINGYUN??? MAYBE???? OR IF ITS RUAN MEI THEN MAYBE ITS SOME RESURRECTION/REINCARNATION KINDA THING???

but also

theres no way i got this on the loading screen right after. foreshadow?? new swarm disaster bc propogation comeback with ruan mei + maybe tingyun???

anyway. yeah. wow. awooga. no words. i have used them all.

actually, i havent yet.

if evil/morally grey, why super pretty? (also the fact dan hengs one cutscene was just a 5 second clip of him impaling taoran with his spear was so 😭😭)

ok. words are no more now. ty for reading.

[tears-of-boredom]

okay The Hustle is like actually a pretty cute movie, like it fr left me a smile on my face. I can even endure the annoying pop song of the credits for it. also, that is another white boy. slightly different breed but like, same genus still if you catch my drift. but i think i missed the comedy part? like I was very doubtful of the movie at first because it was a comedy and i don't usually really like them tbh, but I like, did not notice any joke in this?? like I know that there were some, but i guess i just thought myself a bit more perceptive. anne hathaway's accent stuck for me apparently. was the part with penny in jail supposed to be comedy? i guess i just dont know what a normal reaction to comedy is. I also watched the first episode of the first season of doctor who, and this is related because I laughed so hard when it was confirmed that the london eye was the like transmitter. not because of the actual joke they did, but because it was literally the first thing i thought of when the doctor gave the description. it was really funny to me that it was literally like one of the top 5 tourist attractions. and also it was funny that they both needed to see the ferris wheel to realise that it's even a possibility. like, london + big circle? you should think about the eye of london immideatly, and then keep thinking of other answers because why the fuck would it be that simple. and I genuinely laughed at that. but then like, i just kind of,, enjoyed the vibe of The Hustle. like there was no part where i laughed, or thought "thats funny". instead i just really enjoyed how light and silly the vibe of the movie was. though, you know, my eat the rich senses were going off the whole time with anna's character, so I didnt enjoy her that much. like, I know that people will just see a girlboss and like her because she "slays", but honestly i never get those things. rich people should be slayed, regardless of whether they slay or not. especially if theyre not even like nice people.

like, I just...I guess she gets a bit of sway with me because she seems to just rob other rich people, but still. whats it matter when she seemingly just hoards the money anyways.

sorry i am like especially on my communist bullshit rn because i personally dont have much money, and that makes me feel really anxious. i could handle it if it was just my own expenses i needed to consider, because like i can handle starving myself a bit if it comes to that, but i live in a household. and I feel really fucking guilty just living here for free. so i feel the need to cover some expenses of others when I can, although i do not need to. but now i cant do that. also I am trying to wait out the deadline of my birthday, when a medical thing i want(need) will be free.

i just fucking hate rich people ya know. oh look at me i bought this car that uses gas that has methane gas in it aren't i so cool.

why are rich people, of all people, always pushing for poor people to invest for later profits. invest 40 years of your life to 24/7 work and maybe youll be able to buy a house, easy as that! and then the same rich people are literally living every day like its their last. what are they investing in when they support oil companies? they are literally living in the moment so hard that they do not care of the "whole fucking planet actively dying" thing.

i hate hypocrites. and rich people. if I was allowed to kill every billionaire(and millionaire), on the condition that i had to literally eat them, i would leave no fucking crumbs. and I would get on some drugs to deal with whatever the side effects of cannibalism were.

wait wasn't this post about the hustle. well, you know. movies about crime are always bound to unleash my red rage. also I'm joking about me being a communist, kind of at least. because i dont know what the like, official ideals of communism are. but its just like a thing of, if someone doesnt like it when I call myself a commi, i probably wouldnt like them anyway. you have to at least be able to joke about being a communist. and I guess this works for facism too, in the way where if you joke about being a nazi, i will not like you. cus acting like a racist "as a joke" isnt really funny.

anyways I am sorry. im tired. and the whole day ive been thinking about how i want to read fanfics. and also how i want it to rain properly. and I know that I could just read the fanfics, there's nothing really stopping me,, but I guess I just dont want to be dissapointed again. the scenes and athmospheres ive been imagining in my head will always be better than any fanfic writer can create. im sorry, I genuinely am tired. i dont know whats up with me, cuz i literally woke up at noon. like I hope it isnt anything long term thats making me so tired.

[anangelicday-mrwolf]

Wolfsbane : Noblesse Fanfic (post-ending)

(previous chapter)

Chapter 6 – Frankenstein’s Secret

“Goddamn it.”

Frankenstein spat out a contemptuous grumble, stowing away his Dark Spear. His goal was to keep the monster in his grip for 3 minutes, but the stopwatch in his pocket was marked with digits 1 and 13, a record 30 seconds shorter than the previous one.

Despite the shortness of time lapse, the chamber looked utterly disastrous, plastered with dark purple on every corner of its floor, walls, and ceiling. Frankenstein could not help marveling how he was standing on pieces of tiles instead of their particles.

“This is gonna cost me another series of days and nights,” said Frankenstein in a biting tone, looking around the calamity he brought upon the chamber once again.

Ever since the nuclear missile launch by Crombell, there had been several changes Frankenstein met.

First, for example, the number of vacancies in his house at Seoul increased. Second, the name engraved on the nameplate in the Ye Ran chairman’s office is no longer his. Third, the diplomatic relation between Lukedonia and wolfkind is now completely and literally on the bright side.

Yes, quite a lot has changed, but what Frankenstein just forced himself to encounter was the biggest and most noteworthy change. And a bad change.

Unlike before, Frankenstein’s power turned unimaginably unstable. The degree of instability was nothing like before. Now a mere act of summoning the Dark Spear has become, metaphorically, trying to make an ice cube stay perfectly unscathed while slamming down a gigantic hammer onto it in full power.

And the missile launch was the genesis of such catastrophic change. Or rather, it all began the minute Frankenstein felt his bond to his master shattered.

*****

Fifteen days ago, when the bond from his contract with Raizel was destroyed, Frankenstein was tortured by the aftermath of his loss. He felt as if the most fundamental root of his soul was broken down. He felt as if he were a prisoner to the extinction of his entire time and existence. Most of all, he felt as if every biological molecule of his body was detonated, and oh-good-heavens, how it hurt.

It was more than a loss. A mother would have deemed it the death of her child. A patriot would have dubbed it the day his country was eternally conquered. Juliet would have identified it the moment she saw Romeo fallen about her. And it hurt.

His pain burned his entity even when he with the rest of his fellow fighters returned to his home. Which is why the first thing he did upon stepping through his door was to make everyone promise that they will leave him alone for a while, so that he could let his powers screech and shriek and scream in mourning annihilation, in a special chamber under the ground.

His control was totally lost as he roared in the center of a storm of black and purple. The last bit of his sense of responsibility forbid him of pulling out his weapon, but he brandished his dark power so viciously even Gradeus would grovel, begging for his mentorship.

The only time in the past he had ever unleashed his power without restraint was when he lost the tug-of-war against his own power and forfeited his mind.

And he had rather wished he would lose his mind, for the pain was unendurable to handle with his sanity intact. Much to his dismay and heartbreak, his mind was at full function, incising his foundational essence with psychological, emotional, and spiritual trauma.

After whipping up a tempest of maddening woe, he fell asleep into a nightmare.

... ....... ...

‘...What?’

... .... r.. s.. F....

‘...What’s that noise?’

..F.. f... n....

‘What...? I can’t hear you...’

...Fr... ...tei... n....

‘I said I can’t hear you... It hurts.’

Frankenstein groaned, enveloped by mysterious noises echoing from eerie darkness.

...s.. s...

‘Shut up. I don’t wanna hear you... Just leave me alone.’

...ss... B...

‘Shut. Up. Just leave me alone...’

..ss. Bo...ss...

‘Please!!!!!’

“Boss!!!!!”

Noises resembling cacophony from unfocused radio were outdistanced by a familiar voice, and Frankenstein’s eyes frantically flashed open as if he were electrocuted.

Almost at the same time, his upper body slashed through the air in elevation, only to shrivel due to bone-wrecking pain that hit his whole body like a lightning.

Forcing himself to ignore his joints writhing in complaint as the result of his rampage, Frankenstein turned his eyes towards the source of the voice and ended up staring directly into the eyes of a man with black-hair-studded-with-white-locks. His eyes were trembling in uneasiness as he was kneeled by Frankenstein’s side.  

“...What are you doing here, Tao?”

“W-what do you mean, what am I doing here? I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m bushed, not brainless. And I know same could be said of you. I’m asking how you got in here, ‘cause I do remember sealing the chamber before... Before all this.”

“Uh... Well...”

Tao, instead of answering, directed his gaze beyond his shoulder, onto the door that was nearly dissipated into debris.

That was a cue for Frankenstein to take in the status of the special chamber designed to cloak and stand against Dark Spear’s power. The door was the least damaged component of the chamber, he noticed. Wherever he locked his eyes upon was marred by dark-purple blurs, as if the apocalypse itself dawned upon the room while Frankenstein was in dark frenzy.

“I could feel your power from up there, so I had to come down. What on earth happened here?”

“...I couldn’t help it.”

Frankenstein hoped he would not have to waste his energy talking, but Tao mouthed something incoherent, hinting that he needed to hear more.

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

“Uh... Actually, I’ve been watching you for roughly a minute.”

“...And?”

“That is, I’ve been watching you asleep. Or I think you were asleep. But when you were on the floor... I could see the Dark Spear’s aura rippling from your body.”

Tao then pointed towards the ceiling behind Frankenstein. There was a crevasse huge enough to hold the Eiffel Tower, dripping with purple aura that Frankenstein could identify anywhere, anytime.

“When I walked up to you, you started to mumble something. And that made the Dark Spear’s aura surge and do that. I would’ve thought you were showing off how strong you can be while on your back, if only I hadn’t seen how your eyes were closed, and your breathing was stable.”

Showing off how strong I am on my back? I don’t recollect beating your head that hard during our past trainings. In normal circumstances, Frankenstein would have jokingly retorted as so.

‘I emitted Dark Spear’s power during sleep?’

This was not the first time his control over the Dark Spear slipped during sleep. His past is an archive of numerous attempts and failures in governing the damned weapon.

However, now his failures are history, a record of his efforts in making friends with the Dark Spear. Ever since he honed his mastery of the Spear, he has never lost grip of his reins, regardless of the intensity or numeral degree of souls the Spear has absorbed.

He was aware that this time, out of his loss and pain, he deliberately bombarded the chamber with his power. He even considered throwing away his reasons to turn into a mad dog. Nevertheless, he did not plan at all to actually lose his control. And the level of damage was way beyond his calculation or expectation.

This chamber was repaired and improved at the time when he made a mimicry of Raizel’s seal with the power of the Dark Spear. In consideration of the chances that the Dark Spear will absorb increasingly stronger souls in the course of struggle against the Union, Frankenstein compounded the chamber’s cloaking integration and defense against Dark Spear’s power. Yet the chamber’s door was nearly unhinged, and Tao even picked up his power from dozens of meters above.

“Boss?”

Tao nervously called Frankenstein’s name, his voice now thicker with concern. Frankenstein had to intentionally change the subject, as he detected fear unparallel in Tao’s eyes.

“...What’s keeping the rest of the team?”

“...For some reason, Takio and M-21 suddenly left for school.”

“And Seira? Regis? Rael?”

“T-they left after they told me they’ll be away for a bit. So did Sir Karious. Since they asked me not to look for them for a while, unless it is absolutely necessary, I doubt they’ll be back by the end of the day.”

“Really...? Good.”

“No, it’s not good! Nothing is good! How can you say it’s good when something is obviously wrong with...”

“Yes, it is. Because I have just one person to silence on this matter.”

Tao gaped at him, quietly questioning his words. Frankenstein straightened his face, serious and devoid of fatigue from days of combat.

“I need a favor, Tao.”

Certain that his house will be empty, the next day, with Tao’s assistance, Frankenstein fixed his chamber as his time and resources allowed for an experiment: using a sample of rapidly-working sleep inducer to see if he loses his control over his weapon whenever he falls asleep.

The results from multiple rounds of experiments that therefore took place were neither helpful nor hopeful, for the Dark Spear’s aura leaked every time he was in slumber.

He wished he was mistaken. Or too imaginative. Or too tired and thus delirious. However, the fact that he always woke up to find Tao (who was in charge of injecting him with rapidly-working awakening drug before things got out of hand) wearing apprehension matching his own killed his hope.

“Maybe... Maybe this is because the Dark Spear absorbed the Blood Stone Crombell was using, at the end of your last battle with Crombell.”

And a hypothesis Tao offered to bring about a change in the atmosphere slaughtered his hope.

Frankenstein cursed the Blood Stone and its copies, as they were the direct or indirect cause of pain and damage for his master and those he held in his heart. But now the abominable stone was part of the Dark Spear – part of him.

The second the terrible realization swept through him, Frankenstein was urged to rip his own skin off his body out of self-abhorrence that exploded like a volcano.

And that was the reason why Frankenstein decided to leave Korea after Raizel’s return. The main reason, of course, was to discover the secret behind Raizel’s return as well as reinvigoration: to find out how in the world the Noblesse managed to not only rise from death but also become healthier than before.

On the other hand, he wanted to secretly resolve his secret. He wanted to separate pieces of the Blood Stone from Dark Spear in one way or another. And in the meantime, he wanted to somehow stabilize his power back to normal.

Hence he had to stay awake with his wolfsbane tonic, in order to prevent himself from discharging Dark Spear’s aura in sleep and to find command over the Blood Stone stuck in his weapon.

‘And here I am, not making progress at all. God, this thing would trash harder and harder whenever I pull it out.’

Sighing heavily, Frankenstein fell to the floor as he was engrossed in thoughts, speculating for how long would he be able to keep his secret a secret when he is now entrusted with Muzaka’s favor.

Until very recently, he has been wary only of his master. Although there is a link between their minds based on their contract, Raizel respected him. He would never inspect his loyal servant’s mind even if he wants to. In other words, his master would be unaware of his distress as long as he is careful. And since he happens to be away from Raizel, technically there is not a chance of getting caught in action by the Noblesse.

In fact, the greatest threat for him as of now is the secret agent Muzaka dispatched for him.

So far Lunark has noted nothing. But there is no guarantee he can keep it that way, especially when that afternoon he could see how attentive and observant she is. And much more interested in him than he had wanted.

‘Hang on. Want? Want what?’

Startled by his own thought, he soon reprimanded himself.

‘What could you possibly want from her, Frankenstein? She may not be an enemy any longer, but she is still the one to be most wary of.’

Pushing back the bitter ache somewhere in his body that rose out of unknown reason, Frankenstein calmed his breathing.

He was already plagued with tons of worries, but he knew what he had to do – get rid of his secret as fast as he can, without letting Lunark learn what is occupying his mind and soul.

‘I should borrow Tao’s hand if I have to. He is the only one who shares my secret.’

As soon as he recalled Tao’s name for once, the three initial members of the RK whom Frankenstein had left behind in Korea popped up in his mind.

‘Which reminds me, I wonder how they are doing with their duties.’

(next chapter)

Yes, this is the reason why Frankenstein had to leave Korea (at least in my fic) in addition to his new quest in discovering the secret behind Rai’s miraculous return to life, which will surely be discussed in this fic later on.

I figured it wouldn’t be so bad to decide that Frankenstein’s Dark Spear (hence his power) got unstable because of the Blood Stone that Crombell used before his demise. In fact, in the last episode of Noblesse Frankie did mention that Dark Spear will be unstable for a while because it absorbed Crombell and his Blood Stone.

Next up, we’ll be revisiting Korea to take a look at a couple familiar faces, one of whom will be an unexpected character long forgotten. :)

[hungrytundras]

Okay 

Disclaimer: I’m about to unleash my stinky opinion out here. I’m still in reeling mode tho so I’m not gonna lie, this is gonna be like 95% negative. I’ll make a bounce back post sometime further down the line when I’m in less of a mood y’know?

Anyhow. I just woke up and ate a poptart and now I’m making a post. 

Map Update.

Firstly I’m very glad that FR has decided to stay with their kind of 3D illustration type deal which is really cool. I love the exaggerations and the artistry of it plus it means I can still swoop in with a more scaled version sometime down the line. 

I’m also super stoked to be getting more canon locations cause that is always exiting. New lore is great even if I sometimes don’t even read it.

Honestly none of the illustrations or mechanics have anything about which I can complain. 

The real thing that bothers me is the height map, which I’ll use to point out all the oddities I don’t enjoy in a massive overstepping of boundaries

Oh good god the height map

As this map goes through all of the weird inconsistencies in the old map which I’d written off as just the result of the wonky perspective are getting standardized in the worst way. 

The frigid floes are illustrated as being hauntingly linear and regular which is bothersome to me since ice doesn't... really just form that way. In a long line of consistent width and nowhere else.

Staff demonstrates a fundamental misunderstanding of what a river is. They can’t really cut straight through a landmass like that or else they become straits not rivers and your continent becomes a series of uncomfortably close islands.

Staff demonstrates a fundamental misunderstanding of what a plateau is. Windswept looks like its by and large at the same elevation as everything around it. 

Sunbeam? 

Sunbeam????? Not that its not allowed to be high up but why is it the continent’s highest point? So much of it is so high up that it essentially erases all other high elevation zones from view by right of too much contrast in one place. And yeah its their canon and they can do whatever they want but this seems kind of... arbitrary? like why???? is she so.... inconsistently, disruptively tall? It can be high up but I don’t see why it should make every other mountain on the map look like a speed bump. 

Other nitpicks.....

oop uncolored spot

Must we separate everything with water? 

Por’s island is fucking huge

🎵Dildo mountaaain Really tall and really steep and Kind of phaliiiiiic 🎵 not actually but hey I am in an Overly critical type of of mooooooooood 🎵

[xmenimagine]

Imagine: Quick Recovery.

Requested by Anon. Includes: Peter Maximoff x Reader Request: * Would you mind doing quicksilver confessing his love to female reader after the events of apocalypse and she helps him while he’s on crutches? Thank you so much!

Note: wowie, I didn't realise it was going to be this long.

    Peter stood in front of you with a nervous look on his face, he was waiting for your reaction or at least any sign of response, he would take anything. There was a stunned silence on your behalf as your mind tried registering everything that he had told you, everything that he admitted, everything that you had been completely oblivious to before in the past. His eyes scanned your face for any reaction, anything at all, but it was almost as if you had been turned to stone. Your mouth was left ajar and your eyes were wider than before. To Peter, it was a look of pure innocence. He was thankful that he decided to tell you somewhere quiet and away from everyone else. His plan was to tell you after his leg had healed, after everyone had got over the initial shock of Apocalypse, but for the speedster, he realised that he wasn't great on timing, he never had to be, he could always rely on his mutation to get him out of unwanted situations. But this wasn't an unwanted situation, it was one that he wanted to do for a long time, but he always chickened out and made a quick recovery to change the subject if it ever got close to the truth.

    But here he was, standing with his crutches that his hands gripped so tightly that his knuckles were almost completely white, and his leg cast that was covered completely in drawings and messages—his favourite was Scott's strangely colourful and detailed drawing of Peter ripping out of a comic book strip with The Flash knocked out in the frame behind him. He even had his silver jacket on and his goggles sticking out of one of the pockets. All he could do now was wait, and he hated waiting. But when he looked at you standing in front of him, with that look on your face, he didn't mind the wait, because it meant that he was in your presence for longer, that he could look at you for longer, and that he would finally hear a response from you when you got over the initial shock of his words. He knew he had to wait, after all, it wasn't every day when Peter decided to stop acting like a child and commit to a relatively mature conversation with you instead of his usual jokes and pranks.

    While he waited, he thought back to the moments that lead him to now.

    Kurt managed to get everyone to safety, away from the plane. Psylocke and Angel were left inside still, and you didn't want to know the outcome of what happened to them as you sat beside a knocked-out and energy-drained Kurt, brushing the hair from his face. Scott stood behind you, looking over your shoulder and down at him while Moira turned to look at Charles. He woke up in a panic, but Jean quickly calmed him down, holding onto him, telling him that he was safe. Hank patted his arm gently before holding Charles' outstretched arm. Hank helped move Charles over towards the wall so he could sit up, while you pulled Kurt towards the other side of the room, laying a pillow behind his head. Hank walked over and made sure he was okay. Then, from the silence, Apocalypse's voice yelled out, and you could feel your blood run cold knowing that Peter and Raven were still out there with him.

    "Charles! Show yourself!" The sound of Apocalypse's voice made you shudder.

    It never seemed right to you, it was almost as if a thousand other voices were speaking with him at the same time. It made you nervous and uneasy just thinking about it. His voice echoed around the room, and you knew that, sooner or later, he was going to find all of you, and you could only think of the worst thing imaginable happening. You wouldn't even get to say goodbye to anyone back home, or what was left of your home. Hank stood up as soon as he heard Apocalypse's voice, leaving you alone with Kurt. Moira stared down at Charles, the blood from his face was cleaned up to the best of Hank's ability while having nothing to clean it with, leaving a cut and a bruise on the side of Charles' face. Jean and Scott turned away from the windows to look at him as well.

    "Charles! Show yourself!" He repeated.

    It then fell silent outside for a moment. Your eyebrows furrowed and you stood up, wobbling on your knees a bit as the blood began to rush back down your legs from having been sitting with your legs tucked underneath your body beside Kurt. As you walked up to Scott, you turned towards the window to see if you could figure out what was happening. But the sound you heard next sent a wave of fear down your spine. More fear than hearing Apocalypse speak. Peter yelled out in pain, a sound you never wanted to hear. You held your breath and looked out of the window again, feeling the tears roll down your cheeks, your fists balled up tightly, but you didn't care about the pain you were causing yourself as you continued to hear Peter's cries of pain.

    "Peter?" Charles spoke quietly, and you felt as if your heart had stopped beating. Quickly, you turned back to look at Charles as he spoke once more, "Raven."

    Hank began walking to the door. "I'm going out there."

    "I'm going with you," Scott added quickly, turning around and following him.

    "No." Charles shook his head. They stopped walking and stepped back, looking at him. "It's me he wants." He tried getting up.

    "Charles, you can't give yourself up," Moira told him, as he tried to stand, he sat back. "If he has you he has us all." She shook her head. "The whole world." It was clear to see that Charles was torn between right and wrong, his face scrunched up as he tried not to cry knowing he couldn't do anything.

    Apocalypse yelled out again, "Charles! Come rescue your weaklings! Give your life for theirs!"

    "No," Charles whimpered, shaking his head, and you stepped away from the window, towards the middle of the room.

    "There has to be another way, right?" You asked quietly, looking over at Hank, who looked back at you just as unsure.

    Charles sat up quickly, his expression falling from his face. "He was right," he started. "There is still some part of me connected to him."

    "Charles!" Apocalypse continued to yell out at him.

    "I can get inside his head."

    "Will you do nothing?"

    Charles laid back, and he had a look of determination on his face. "Thank you for letting me in."

    You quickly made your way back to the window and looked out, seeing Raven fall to the ground. Apocalypse was on his knees and, for a moment, you had hope, until his head looked up from the ground. Behind you, Charles breathed in deeply, but you couldn't take your eyes away from Apocalypse. The wall where you stood began to turn to dust, Scott pulled you away as part of the ground you were standing on disappeared. Apocalypse stood with his hand facing the building where you stayed, his eyes were glassed over with white, and you quickly stumbled back when the realisation hit you. Scott made sure you were out of the way before he let go of you and watched as you slumped against the wall, sliding down it, staring out in horror. Charles still struggled to breathe, and he sounded like he was in pain, you couldn't take your eyes away from Apocalypse still, especially as he kept walking closer.

    A metal beam slammed down into the ground in front of Apocalypse, and he stopped, noticing as another slammed down in front of it, creating a large 'X' in front of the building. Erik was in the air, no longer on Apocalypse's side.

    "You betray me." Apocalypse turned around to face him.

    "No. I betrayed them," Erik responded and turned his hand, the metal around him began to rise up from the ground, clinking and sliding against one another. The metal then began to fly towards Apocalypse, but he covered himself, a wall of fire blocked the metal from touching him.

    "Let's jump," you heard Hank.

    "What?" Scott replied, watching in shock, following Hank anyway before they dropped down.

    Hank ran over to Raven, but you couldn't hear what they were saying. He picked her up and you watched as he began to break Peter from the ground. Scott took his glasses off and faced Apocalypse. The concussion beam bounced off and Scott fell backwards, but he stood back up and yelled, hitting the force field around Apocalypse. Hank finally got Peter out and helped him up and to cover. You could no longer see him, but you knew he was further away from the danger.

    Charles then tried to speak, "J—" When you looked over, Jean was already sitting by him. "Help… me."

    "They can't stop him," Moira mumbled as she watched the others grow tired.

    Hank tried to jump at him, but he was thrown to the side, slamming into a car, knocking him unconscious. Scott continued to yell, not entirely certain as to where he was shooting at, and he quickly closed his eyes, putting his glasses back on. Apocalypse threw him backwards, and he was pushed into a wall.

    The wall began to swallow him and he yelled out, "Hank!" But he wasn't responsive. "Hank!"

    You looked over at Charles as he spoke quietly, "You… will never win." He paused. "Because you are alone, and I am… not." He paused again. "Let… go. Unleash your power, Jean. No fear." Jean looked up from Charles.

    Moira and yourself stared in horror and shock as Jean had walked out from the side of the crumbled building where you stayed for cover, even though all of you were exposed. Erik was struggling to see through the flames but continued to throw the large pieces of shrapnel, pipes, metal beams, fragments of metal from the ground and the crumbled mess from the side of the building blindly towards Apocalypse. Jean had walked out onto nothing, walking on air as she walked closer to Apocalypse. She stopped just in front of the large ball of fire and smoke, Charles yelled at her to unleash her power. With a deep breath, her arms spread out to her sides. Her screams pierced the air as the flames expelled from her body like some sort of Phoenix spirit was engulfing her. Apocalypse's armour was stripped from his body, Erik impaled him with metal. Hank broke Scott away from the wall that was slowly crushing him, and Scott took his glasses off, allowing the concussion beams to hit Apocalypse. He tried to get away, but Ororo was above him with lightning surrounding her.

    The flames that left Jean grew bigger and brighter. Apocalypse was slowly breaking apart, burning and disintegrating, just before his body was completely destroyed. A wailing screech, from around Jean, amongst the flames, screamed before the flames began to die down. You still sat slumped against the wall of the building, staring at her in disbelief, uncertain whether what you saw had really happened. Erik and Ororo lowered to the ground while Jean moved back to the building. Hank and Scott jumped back up and Moira caught everyone's attention. She was doing chest compressions on Charles. Hank ran over quickly.

    "We've lost him, he's gone," she said to him.

    "No, he's not," Jean shook her head. "I can still feel him," she admitted as she walked closer, kneeling down to rest her hand on his face. She closed her eyes and he began to breathe again.

    "Thank you, Jean," he spoke quietly.

    "Charles. Charles, do you know where you are?" Moira asked.

    "I'm on a beach." Hank frowned at the response. "In Cuba," Charles continued as he turned to Moira. "With you."

    "What beach?"

    Charles moved his hand to her face, she had tears rolling down as the memories came back to her, and he lowered his hand. "I'm sorry," he admitted. "I should never have taken those from you."

    "Hold on!" Kurt yelled as he woke up, sitting upright. You yelled, looking at him with wide eyes while Hank stared at him in shock. Jean laughed quietly. "What did I miss?"

-

    Almost two weeks later, you had become some sort of nurse for Peter. He decided to stay at the mansion, as well as Ororo, claiming it was because he wanted to have someone—mainly Scott—to play video games with. You didn't mind, of course, he never made you do anything that you didn't think was necessary. He didn't pull any pranks on you like he did with the other mutants, but he still joked around with you, nothing too major of course, he didn't want to upset you. There were times when he tried doing things on his own, but you knew he couldn't. Which was why you were going to get cleaning supplies after Peter had tried—and failed—to pull a bowl of soup from his side table towards him with his crutch, ending with the soup spilling half on his bed and the rest on his floor. It wasn't as if he couldn't have asked you to hand it over to him, you were in his bathroom putting the medicine back behind his mirror above the sink at the time.

    Behind you, despite telling him to stay in his room, you heard Peter trying to catch up with you. The sound of his crutches slapping at the ground quickly, and his uneven breathing, and a grunt of frustration as he tried to keep up, caused you to pause and turn around to face him. Peter stopped abruptly and almost fell forwards, only to have to push him back upright steadily.

    "Do my words just go through one ear and out the other? Or do you have a force field that just repels them, all together, so you never hear what I say?"

    "What?" Peter asked as he caught his breath. "Of course I listen to you, I just wanted to join you."

    "Peter," you spoke with a sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. "That's sweet but you really should be in bed, resting."

    "Where's the fun in that?"

    "Your body won't be under as much stress and you'll heal faster?"

    "Hank says I'm nearly finished with healing."

    "Great, so that means you can be the one to clean up the messes you leave behind instead of me."

    Peter frowned. "I don't expect you to do any of that."

    "I know, but you're not exactly capable of doing it yourself right now, and everyone else is annoyed at you from the last prank you pulled on them."

    "It's their fault if they couldn't hear me walking around with crutches in the kitchen while being loud and laughing to myself before I walked back out with paint stains on my clothes."

    "Why did you have to make a paint bomb? What did you achieve? I had to clean it up."

    "That was meant to be Scott's job."

    "No, he was trying to get paint off his glasses while trying not to open his eyes."

    "I would have paid to see that."

    "Peter!" You breathed deeply. "Go back to your room and rest."

    "I'm already here now, I might as well join you."

    With another sigh of your own frustration, you rubbed a hand down the side of your face. "Why are you like this?"

    "Like what?"

    "This! So hard-headed and impossible to get through to."

    "You know I don't mean to be like that when I'm around you, right?"

    "Why? Why me, Peter?"

    He paused, staring at you, his eyes were looking at the detail of your face, taking everything in as if he was going to end up losing his sight in a matter of seconds. Peter remained quiet as he opened his mouth and let out a shaky breath. His behaviour was unusual for someone who, not minutes before, was trying to sing the national anthem backwards while beatboxing at the same time to see if he could do it—he couldn't. This wasn't the Peter you were used to seeing. He was nervous all of a sudden, his natural 'laid back' and calm manner was replaced with nerves and twitchy fingers. It was clear that Peter was no longer being childish, as per usual, but rather trying to commit to a normal, mature conversation with you.

    "Peter?" You asked him quietly, almost whispering his name.

    The sound of your voice must have brought him back to reality as his usual loud voice was replaced with a shy and quiet one, "It's because I'm in love with you, and I have been since the second week of knowing you. It was when I saw you outside in the garden that day, I—" He swallowed. "You were stood there with your eyes squinted because the sun was shining directly on your face. You even had your hand raised up to shield your eyes, but it didn't do much because you were still standing there smiling, or maybe you were laughing at something Jubilee had said as she picked some of the yellow petals off the flowers, but you were just standing there, completely oblivious to the world around you. My god, it was like the earth had stopped turning and everything but you faded out. I can still hear the sound of your laugh as you threw your head back and closed your eyes so tightly with how hard you were laughing. My heart began to race and I couldn't understand why. Scott wouldn't tell me, I don't know why I would trust him with the answer when I asked. Jean only smiled, I could tell that she was trying not to, and turned to look at Scott before she looked back at him and said nothing. Kurt wouldn't have been any help, Ororo either, she lies to me a lot.

    "I was too scared to ask Raven… she's pretty intimidating for someone who is as blue as Kurt, and I doubted that Hank would have listened to me. I could have asked Charles, but he's always cryptic, what does he know? I was debating whether or not to ask Jubilee, but she was always with you, and I didn't want you to get suspicious or somehow trick her into telling you because she can't keep a secret from you to save her life. I didn't really talk to anyone else back then, I do now, but knowing them now didn't help me back then, you know? I had to figure out my feelings on my own, which is a lot harder than it sounds. I eventually called my mum because I was getting nowhere and it ended up hitting me like a ton of bricks. I am completely and utterly in love with you, and I'm terrified of screwing up."

    Peter stood in front of you with a nervous look on his face, he was waiting for your reaction or at least any sign of response, he would take anything. There was a stunned silence on your behalf as your mind tried registering everything that he had told you, everything that he admitted, everything that you had been completely oblivious to before in the past. His eyes scanned your face for any reaction, anything at all, but it was almost as if you had been turned to stone. Your mouth was left ajar and your eyes were wider than before. To Peter, it was a look of pure innocence. He was thankful that he decided to tell you somewhere quiet and away from everyone else. His plan was to tell you after his leg had healed, after everyone had got over the initial shock of Apocalypse, but for the speedster, he realised that he wasn't great on timing, he never had to be, he could always rely on his mutation to get him out of unwanted situations. But this wasn't an unwanted situation, it was one that he wanted to do for a long time, but he always chickened out and made a quick recovery to change the subject if it ever got close to the truth.

    But here he was, standing with his crutches that his hands gripped so tightly that his knuckles were almost completely white, and his leg cast that was covered completely in drawings and messages—his favourite was Scott's strangely colourful and detailed drawing of Peter ripping out of a comic book strip with The Flash knocked out in the frame behind him. He even had his silver jacket on and his goggles sticking out of one of the pockets. All he could do now was wait, and he hated waiting. But when he looked at you standing in front of him, with that look on your face, he didn't mind the wait, because it meant that he was in your presence for longer, that he could look at you for longer, and that he would finally hear a response from you when you got over the initial shock of his words. He knew he had to wait, after all, it wasn't every day when Peter decided to stop acting like a child and commit to a relatively mature conversation with you instead of his usual jokes and pranks.

    "Y-You love me?"

    "If my speech wasn't proof enough, yeah."

    He watched silently as he sucked in a deep breath, a small smile began to tug at the corners of your lips and you looked down. "I…"

    Peter frowned when you cut yourself off. "What?"

    You looked back up at him, remaining quiet as you cupped his face softly with your hands and pressed your lips to his, only for a few seconds before you pulled back with the same small smile. "I—I love you too, Peter."

[socially-awkward-weirdo]

Fr tho how y all just leave yo home or school and go out with friends and call yo mom later telling her where you are and she okay with it

Like this dont happen to me I mean there's a procedure to this at my house I can't go nowhere without telling people like if I left my house without telling my mom even to go below my building she finna ground me okay

FIRST UP! The plan is made. Everyone's confirming. I'm like "uhh I can't ask my mom rnnn what do I do..." and someone mention me and be like "yo you coming" and imma have to spit out some shit like "yo I'll let you know" like????

Second? The "asking". So now that I've told them I'll "let them know", I need to actually follow up with that. So Imma be around tryna find the PERFECT moment to ask my mom, but then my annoying ass will do some bad stuff and damn right my parents gonna be pissed off. So now imma have to WAIT until I'm sure that they're happy enough to allow me to go.

Third. The interrogation. The most important part. So finally, I ask my mom. And now, she unleashes her secret side - the FBI agent. She needs to find out EVERY SINGLE DETAIL about this gathering, it's the TEA for her. So here is what the talk sorta goes like:

Me: mom...So...Some of my friends are gonna be going out this weekend to (place) and I was asking if I could go....

Mom: ok...when you going? Where you going? Who all gonna be there? Is (friend) gonna be there? If she aint there, you ain't going. What you gonna do there?

Me: .....uh yeah....

Mom: ok fine when you need to go? Ok what time you coming?

Me: 10?

Mom: no that's too late. 9.30. No 9.

Me: okay....

LIKE WHAT? AIN'T NO ONE BE LEAVING AT 9 FROM THERE THE THING STARTS AT 7 PEOPLE ARE STILL TRICKLING IN BY 8 WHAT DO YOU MEAN 9 ALL.MY FRIENDS BE LEAVING AT 10 MINIMUM FROM THERE THIS ITS AWKWARD AF TO LEAVE

So now that she's let me go, we need to get there. How are we going to get there? We need a car! Now, she has a plan, Okay? She needs to figure this out. There's like five factors here - the presence of the car and the driver. In the situation that the driver isn't there, my dad has to go and then he ain't going alone cause distances are far in this city so if he goes she gotta plan and outing for the two of them to come with me too. But if we DON'T have the car? Heaven forbid we don't have the car, because then, I need to find some friend who lives close enough to want to give me an awkward ride in their car.

FINALLY! the ride has been decided, and I am going to go out with my friends. (Finally lol.)

So yeaahhh. That's what it requires to make plans with me. It's a terrible pain I must say, so makes sense as to why people DON'T usually make plans with me.

(ALL IN GOOD HUMOUR, 0 PEOPLE WHO READ MY BLOG! I LOVE MY MOM AND THIS WHOLE POST IS A HUGE EXAGGERATED JOKE. REPOST IF YOU FEEL THE SAME!)