#she watches her entire family die in front of her due to neglect and time travel and just has to go on. none of the other furniture can talk

[fail-front-door]

Bading Ding. Ding.

[violetswritingg]

Valkyrie

Mark Grayson x OFC!

Description: In which two superpowered teens meet and fall in love amongst blood, death, and betrayal

Rating: M (Canon typical violence, betrayal, mental health issues, abandonment issues, child neglect, angsttttt)

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7: Burial Plot

~~*~~

Watch me as I come undone

A burial plot for you and I

Where we can both learn to die

It's my fault that your gone

~~*~~

The news had broken and the weight on Stella's shoulders just seemed to get heavier as now the public's opinions and thoughts were running wild. Some were shocked, in denial, angry. Angry with her, for not telling them sooner. For lying.

The messages poured in and Stella had to delete most of her social media due to her just scrolling through every comment berating her, or worse, accusing her of killing the Guardians. She knew Cecil already knew about it, but when he would bring it up was another matter entirely.

The funeral seemed like it happened overnight, even though Stella knew that wasn't true, but that's what it felt like, and she wanted to scream. In her costume, beside Nolan as they waited to take off with the US army's fighter jets. Her supposed to be leading the pack.

"How are you feeling? I know you pushed yourself during the last Flaxan attack, you're not gonna fall out of the sky, are you?" Nolan grinned down at her. Stella forcing a grin at his attempt at humor, but was just entirely patronizing.

"I'm fine, thanks." Stella gritted out, both of them getting the signal at that moment to take off.

~~*~~

Stella stood on that pop-up stage for what felt like ages while Omni-man spoke, as he was supposed to deliver his speech and then introduce her. But he seems to have forgotten that she was the "main event" speaker, as the last remaining Guardian.

It was probably for the best though, because even though Stella knew their bodies weren't in those coffins, seeing them and remembering made her want to be anywhere but there. Soft applause and the clearing of a throat made her snap out of her daze. Nolan gesturing to the podium with his head and stepping back.

Stella took a breath and stepped up to the microphone, looking at the crowd of heroes and civilians alike all here to mourn her friends. Swallowing harshly Stella rolled her shoulder's back.

"I was almost fifteen when I started my training with the Guardians of the Globe, when I first met them it was not the warmest reception." Stella quietly chuckled to herself, glancing down for a second before looking back out at the crowd. Hands gripping the side of the podium for dear life, "They were confused about how this... kid, could become a Guardian. But over time they became my friends, my family." Stella's voice wavered and she took a breath before continuing, glancing around the eyes of those in the crowd. "Fighting along-side them was a privilege, they taught me what it means to be a hero, what it means to be a Guardian of the Globe. I will carry them, their memories, and their teachings with me for the rest of my life. And as the... last Guardian, I promise you, the world, that I will be there carrying on their legacy with Omni-man and those like us. They will not be forgotten, not in this lifetime, and not in the next. They will live on through the new generations of heroes and inspire them to be the best they can be. Just like they do for me, everyday."

Stella's eye stung and she was determined not to cry in front of the whole world right now. But her struggle was clear to see, even though she was trying her best to embody Immortal's ability to be the calm and collected leader in the face of any advisory.

"We love you Valkyrie!" Someone cried from the crowd and more started to follow suit, Stella grinning while swimming through water.

"I know that the Guardians would be proud of those who will follow them as the next heroes of the world, so, let's not let them down. Thank you." Stella stepped back, appropriate applause followed the end of her speech. The rest of the funeral went by in a fog, no more energy left to expend on ongoing present thought.

~~*~~

Olga's sobbing permeated the grounds and reverberated in Stella's skull. Standing off to the side, away from the majority of the much smaller funeral goers. The immediate family and close friends of the Guardians. Those directly affected by the deaths of the Guardians.

Each sob, each tear, each sniffle like a stab in Stella's heart. The feeling of eyes on her, angry and asking why her? Why did she get to live?

Stella was asking herself that same question. Omni-man's words like white noise as they mixed with rain and squish of waterlogged soil.

She didn't speak at this one.

"Is she okay?" Mark whispered next to Eve, looking directly at Stella. Her pale skin and heavy eyes throwing up red flags and warning sirens.

"What do you think?" Eve shot back and Mark sighed, looking to his feet. The boy feeling conflicted over the whole thing. Not as sad as he felt he should be, but his dad was okay, and he didn't really know the Guardians before they died- were murdered.

He was more worried for the one Guardian he now knew.

As the caskets were lowered, Stella couldn't stop the few tears that slipped out. Wiping them away quickly as her focus settled on Olga, Red Rush's wife, as she fought against the comforting hold Donald had on her arm and fell onto the rain-soaked ground.

"Olga, please, calm down." Donald spoke.

"You wouldn't even let me see him. Josef is finally standing still, and I still can't see him!" Olga pounded her fist against the mud, tears streaming down her face. Stella beat Debbie to her, crouching down to the older woman and offering her a hand. Stella's eyes dull as they met Olga's.

"Trust me, you wouldn't want to see him that way."

Olga just burst out into loud sobs allowing Stella to help her, Debbie Grayson quickly joining. Shooting Stella a sad grin. The teenage girl doing the same in response, no words spoken as Stella let Debbie handle calming down Olga. The two women obviously friends. Stepping back once Olga was on her feet Stella found herself next to Cecil, the man looking down at her with worried eyes. Sighing and laying an arm around her shoulders.

Stella didn't fight it, leaning into the scarred man's warmth. Bottom lip starting to tremble, eyes filling with water as the coffins were fully lowered into the ground.

"It's okay Stella. It's okay." Cecil whispered, pulling the girl into his shoulder. Letting her hide her tears in his suit.

"It's never gonna be okay." Her broken voice floated up to his ear, the man just held on tighter.

~~*~~

Walking into her apartment Stella stripped her soaked wool coat. Just leaving it on the floor by the door. No energy to hang it up to dry.

Feet leaving puddles behind her as she made her way through the kitchen and into her room. Changing into dry clothes at a snail's pace, each movement feeling like she was trying to hold up the whole sky.

Her eyes drifted to her suit as she stood, slouched in her dry clothes but dripping hair. The cropped top, long pants, gloves, cape, and diadem hung up on the back of her door. The blood stains had been cleaned and gotten rid of, but her brain could still see the outlines of the stains. Knowing exactly where she had her friends' blood on her hands.

She could still feel the red liquid on her skin as it dried, and it made her want to flay herself alive. Rushing towards the bathroom Stella turned the hot water on at the sink as strong as it could go, starting to scrub.

~~*~~

She couldn't put her suit back on, not tonight. But it would have been helpful against the bay wind. Hands wringing together in her lap as she watched the lights of the city from the top of the city bridge. It was a bittersweet spot for her, but one that she always found herself coming back to time and time again.

"Well, would you look who it is? Hey there stranger." Mark, as Invincible, flew up in front of her, hovering with a soft grin on his face. "Mind if I sit?" He asked, pointing to the spot beside her.

Stella, knowing she didn't have the energy to pretend to not know it was Mark just nodded with a sigh. Feeling his eyes on her hands, which still looked red and were incredibly dry from the hot water and rough treatment. She broke her fingers apart from themselves and leaned back on her palms instead as Mark plopped down. "This may be a stupid question, but how are you doing?" his question was quiet against the whistle of the wind, but Stella still heard it.

"It's going great." Stella drew out, Mark wincing at the bite of her sarcasm. Stella chuckles at his face, the sound warmer than before but ringing with a hollow tinge and Mark frowns.

"Hey, is... You know you can talk to me, right? Hero to hero, I'd like to think friend to friend." The boy turned to face her. Stella huffed, head tilting back as she watched the moon, mouth opening and closing as she tried to say something only for her throat to close up. "You were the one that found them..." Mark continued, trailing off hoping that he could get her to open up.

Stella didn't know what it was about Mark, about Invincible, that made her talk so much, or made her want to talk so much about stuff that she would usually avoid. Whether it be he was just charismatic and funny, the charm of a hero green as the grass he flew over, or something else she just didn't know.

"Yeah, I was. I uh- I got an emergency beacon and had to fly straight from the Kill Canon encounter with you and I was late. And they died." Stella pushed forward, bringing her knees into her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs, nails digging into her exposed forearms.

"Well, I for one am happy that you were late. I know the rest of the world is too." Mark leaned back on his hands; his grin easy. And Stella would be appreciative of him not treating her like glass but his words struck a chord.

"Well, that's nice to know. I didn't know the whole world was happy I may or may not be the reason the Guardians are dead." She snaps and Mark realizes what he said, just a little too late.

"I didn't mean- what I meant was... The world would be a lot worse off if they had lost you too. You're a beacon of hope for everyone around the world!" Mark corrected, throwing his arms up, grinning wide.

"That's a bold assumption." Stella scoffed, "Have you seen any social media platform lately?"

"I have and those people being haters are pieces of shit and have no idea what they're talking about." Mark poked her arm, ducking his head to meet her eyes, "And what can I say? I'm a bold guy. I also don't assume; I only speak facts." He grins and Stella just shakes her head.

"Hopeful and bold, hell of a combo there. Wish I could be like that." Stella quietly chuckled to herself, Mark's grin softening as he turned back to the view. Glancing at Stella out of the corner of his eye.

"How'd you get your powers?" Mark asked, adding on when he watched Stella raise an eyebrow "I mean, I know you're- Kasarian?" Mark questioned, getting a nod from the girl, "But do all Kasarian's have the same abilities?"

"That's a great question, all I really know is that Kasarus apparently had three red giants as their suns. There's something about yellow radiation that causes our DNA to change, and we acquire these powers." Stella reached out and projected a couple different shapes with her shields. "Still not too sure how that works but it could be worse."

"That's so cool, as a Viltrumite all we really get is flight and strength." Mark shrugged, watching her shields with wide eyes. "My dad's been everywhere, flight sure is handy huh? Any cool spots you've been to?"

"Yeah, it is. But I can't really fly. Not like you at least." Stella corrected when Mark looked at her, face twisted in confusion, "How it works is essentially, like my shields, I'm using my own kinetic energy to create the physical manifestation, the blue stuff, and then using that to keep myself up." Stella's shapes took on that of a vague human on top of a blue platform with a larger blue platform underneath. "Essentially creating my own solid ground above solid ground and then just pushing myself along that ground." The vague human started to move, exactly like how she does when flying, before being dissolved into random blue wispy strands that found their home in Stella's skin. "It's weird. And tiring, which is why I don't fly too far." Stella shrugged as Mark nodded slowly.

"What about your parents?" He asked, throwing Stella for a loop.

"What about them?"

"Do they have the same powers too?" Mark clarified and Stella let out a quiet noise of acknowledgement.

"No, they don't, the GDA thinks they will at some point, but they spent their whole life under the red suns of Kasarus while I was just a baby when we left so the yellow radiation has more to fight through for them rather than me." Stella answered just as a particularly cold wind blew past and messed with the few stray strands of blonde that had fallen out of her claw clip. Stella let the cold air invade her lungs as she watched the sun set.

She and Mark just sat in silence, the boy nodding, his tongue seized with how the orange and pinks painted Stella's skin. With how the strands of hair flying around made her look like this ethereal being that he had no right to look at much less be semi-friends with.

The moment of comfortable quiet between them was broken by a loud pinging noise from Stella's watch. The girl immediately tensing up, the once calmly sloped shoulders now shooting up with stress.

"I gotta go. See ya around." She glanced at Mark and gave him a small smile that didn't reach her eyes as she created a platform under her feet. Jumping down and taking off as the platform molded around her feet and shins.

~~*~~

"Cecil!" Stella yelled as she flew into her apartment through her open window. Eyes wide with panic, out of breath from flying so fast. "Cecil!" She called again, sprinting through the short hallway that led to the kitchen and stopped in her tracks.

"Sit. We need to talk." The man pointed to the spot next to him on the couch. An oil stained bag of Chinese takeout from her favorite place on the coffee table in front of him.

~~*~~

[samble-moved]

so the thing about pmmm wishes is —

everyone says, "well, if i was a magical girl, id wish for x" or "why do the girls wish for x when they could wish for y, which would help more people?".

here's the thing. it's a multifaceted issue, but to break it down, the reasons are:

kyubey targets girls who are actively in distress (in some cases, while they are literally dying) who are not in the right state of mind to think through a wish or its consequences.

it's implied that if a girl were to wish away x bad thing, something would replace it that's just as bad.

kyubey (to my understanding) targets girls who are going through puberty...which can happen as young as 7-9 years old. girls that age aren't going to think through a massive world altering wish.

for one, think about some of the canon contracts seen in pmmm (or, in madoka's case, the times kyubey first attempts contracting her). mami is only approached after being in a car crash that killed both her parents, and the implication is that without kyubey, mami would have also died. due to the situation, mami made a wish without fully thinking it through ("i want to live"). kyoko is approached after her family is going through hard times and quite possibly starving (due to canon hints and her fixation on food and aggression when it's wasted) because of her abusive father's actions. homura is approached after watching her only real friend who ever cared about her die while homura was helpless to do anything. sayaka is approached after her childhood friend has had a breakdown, and after she sees her mentor-figure die right in front of her. kyubey targets madoka after she's in near death situations, when she's in mental or emotional distress and not thinking, and while manipulating her and trying to appeal to her morals and better nature.

and if you want to factor magia record into canon, more suspicious contract situations include kyubey approaching a girl who's about to attempt suicide, a girl whose sister is about to die, a girl being abused and neglected, a child who just accidentally killed her whole family, as well as several other characters who made wishes out of sheer desperation.

let's say you are a child and your younger sister is sick with something like cancer. you are distressed and, at your young age, probably not thinking of "big picture" ideas. and suddenly an alien approaches you, saying you can make any wish. it's not shocking that a young girl (or anyone, really) under stress due to something like that would be more likely to make a wish like "i want my sister to be healthy" and not "i wish cancer was cured/never existed". again, kyubey does not target girls who will make well thought out, well worded wishes. he targets those who will make spur of the moment ones that can be twisted or taken overly literal.

besides that, pmmm has a theme of "if x bad thing is gone, something equally bad may replace it". witches are gone in madoka's universe, but wraiths exist. if a girl wished to cure all forms of cancer, it's entirely possible another disease would suddenly pop up to "replace". remember, one of the in-universe "rules" is whatever hope you get out of something, you also get an equal measure of despair. getting rid of cancer breeds hope, another disease replacing it brings despair.

this is all not counting the age factor. kyubey canonically targets girls young enough to be in elementary school (nagisa, yuma, ui, etc). he does sometimes go after older girls, but only for a given factor of "older". he's not once (iirc?) ever shown to target an adult, who would likely think their wish through more. besides the obvious factors i mentioned (distress/hope despair balance), the age of the girls does little to help the fact that most wishes aren't some big picture thing. a little girl isn't going to be thinking of the ripple effect of her wish, she'll wish for something that affects her personally. and that's not a byproduct of stupidity, just being a child. this is especially true since children are unable to fully understand the consequences of their actions and don't have the fully developed brain and life experience of an adult.

it's all. so annoying to me because people sometimes act so weirdly smug about "that wish is so stupid, i could do better" as if they likely wouldn't wish similar things if they were the same age in the same situation! this isn't even counting the fact that the girls don't know magical girls = somewhat immortal (to a degree) or that the wish costs their soul. so you can't say "mami wishing to live is stupid, she'd live anyways after contracting" because she couldn't have possibly known such a thing. the girls are never told explicitly what happens once they make their wish at all, unless they ask extremely direct questions (and then again, kyubey can always lie wrt things like saying that nobody's ever tried during a witch back into a magical girl to kyoko, because i refuse to believe through millions of years she's the first to think of such a thing). if you're about to die in a house fire, you won't think to question the person saving you, or hesitate in accepting their aid. you'd likely accept the help immediately due to panic and survival instincts. yet people expect these children in similar life or death situations to clearly and logically think through every possible aspect of their wish, as well as any ripple effects or wider impacts of it. that's...not at all how anything works. and it's weird to have some sense of superiority because you, someone in a comfortable situation, who's not a child, who has all the time in the world to consider a wish, who knows the truth about magical girls can make a "better" wish than some middle school age girl who just went through a major trauma and who isn't thinking clearly with zero knowledge of what's to come.

[stargazer-balladeer]

S/o’s birthday but locks themselves in their rooms because they don’t feel special [Genshin Impact]

Characters Included: Aether, Childe, Diluc, Kaeya & Venti.

Notes: Ayeeee! Since it’s my birthday today, why not make this? :))) I actually got carried away 🥲 this is around 3.5k words in total. Hope ya’ll like this!

Reader’s Gender: Neutral (tho i think there’s a slight implied female hehe…)

Warning: probably some swear words here and there knowing me- and mild suggestive themes in kaeya’s part 

[albedo, scaramouche, xiao]

Aether remembers your birthday more than he knows his- like srsly, he’s the kind that remembers his s/o’s bday more than his. He’s also the kind that celebrates it privately unless you want to celebrate it with others, which he doesn’t mind. He might have a hard time deciding what kind of gift you want, but sooner or later, he already has one (or multiples bc he can’t decide-). 

Imagine his confusion when your day finally arrives but he can’t find you anywhere, even Paimon, who was excited to celebrate your bday (“oohh~ I can’t wait to eat the cake!” - Paimon), seems confused. Probably the culprit in planting worry in the travellers head as she jumps to conclusion that you might’ve been kidnapped. 

Luckily, he checked your house before he could report it to the knights of Favonius or the Qixing (like any normal person should do really-). When he received no reply, he takes out the spare key you gave him and entered your house, an invasion of privacy he knows but it's an emergency- 

Knowing that you’re in your room when he can’t find you downstairs, he knocks on your bedroom door softly while calling your name. Imagine his (and Paimon’s) relief when the door cracked open. Immediately engulfing you into a hug, he lets out a sigh of relief. He then proceeds to ask you what you were doing inside your room when it’s your birthday. His heart literally broke when you stated your reason. Tightening his hold around your figure, he smiles bitterly, knowing that feeling all too well..

“That’s not true. None of that stuff is true. Everyone deserves to feel special on their birthday, most especially you. We’ve brought some food, and cake of course. Also some gifts from other people. If you want, do you want to celebrate it with just the two, or rather three, of us?”

You, who was a literal angel in his eyes deserve the world. He honestly wants to find whoever put that idea in your head but that was reserved for another moment. For now, his main priority is your happiness. Guiding you downstairs where Paimon was (she left when aether hugged you, knowing you two needed privacy. also the cAKE-), he watches as your eyes sparkle at the sight of the cake. 

Grinning softly he made sure you had fun with your birthday. Even though it would be more fun with more people, it feels more special if it’s celebrated with just the two of you. Staring you with pure adoration as you laughed merrily at the sight of Paimon stuffing herself with food. He couldn’t help himself but lean forward to place a kiss on your forehead and then on your lips, leaning back with a smile on his face. 

“Happy birthday, my love. May many more to come. Maybe next time, we can invite other people. Though I don’t mind if we’ll celebrate it with just the two of us only-” And Paimon! Don’t forget about Paimon!�� “Yes yes. And Paimon.”

Similar to Aether, he would most definitely remember your birthday. After all, it holds a special place in his heart, alongside his family. And since this boi is rich af, he would most definitely try to spoil you on your birthday. Piles of expensive (or just cheap yet meaningful) gifts, reservation to a high-class restaurant in Liyue Harbor, and all that glamour. 

Actually, he didn’t find it odd that he didn’t see you immediately, thinking that you overslept or just relaxing in your house. But he soon finds it weird when it’s already around 3 in the afternoon and no sign of your face in the crowd, something he raised a brow at but shrugged it off. It isn’t until it’s almost the time of the reservation he made when he finally realized what’s going on. 

When he arrived at your house, dressed in a suit similar to Zhongli except it’s entirely black and white, waiting for you to come out. After a couple of minutes, he soon got concerned and decided to enter your bedroom through the window (pls do not do this at home). Startled at the sudden appearance of your handsome yet cheeky boyfriend, he stares at you with eyes asking the questions he didn’t dare to tell. 

Knowing he will get his answer one way or another, you decided to tell him about your dilemma. After you finished explaining yourself, silence surrounds you, which is quite worrisome since your boyfriend is known for his rather talkative behavior. Blinking in surprise at the sudden embrace of the 11th Harbinger, his hug was rather tight but not too tight that it cuts your oxygen. Speaking in a low, faint voice, a surprising feat for him, you can make out what he said as clear as day. 

“I’m sorry. I should’ve noticed it sooner. I was trying to be a perfect boyfriend for you but I guess I failed in that aspect. You know, if you feel like you aren’t special enough to celebrate your birthday, then what about me? Me who stained his hands with the red blood of his enemies, always engaging in a fight, clashing with other blades. Insecurity is really an asshole huh? Let me make it up to you now. Let’s not anymore go to that stupid high-class restaurant, c’mon, up you go. You better dressed comfortably when I come back or else…”

Leaving you quickly before coming back immediately, this time in more comfortable clothing rather than the stiff suit he wore earlier. This time as well, he entered your house normally through the door. In his arms, he was holding a bunch of stuff and proceeded to dump it on the living room table. It was different kinds of movies in different genres, you spotted some of your favorite movies in them (makes you also wonder where he got these from since you don’t remember seeing these in the room he stays-).

He would suggest making a pillow fort, and while making the pillow fort, he proceeded to smack you with one. Which ensued a pillow fight between you two. It successfully made the both of you a laughing mess by the end, filled with feathers. Childe then carries you bridal style to the incomplete pillow fort and starts the movie you chose. Placing you in his lap and placing his head either on your shoulder or head depending on your height, cuddling you from behind tightly with a contented smile on his face. 

“You know what? This might not be how I envisioned how your birthday would go, but I’m not complaining. Happy birthday, comrade. My most adorable and most cutest and only love. I love you so much that you’ll be the very reason why I die so suddenly. So stop being so cute okay?” 

(You two are living together in this one.)

Diluc has the probability of forgetting your birthday due to his busy schedule, especially if it’s starting to rise when your birthday draws near. He might neglect you for a couple of days, too engrossed in his work. When the day finally arrives, it completely leaves his mind. Like he’ll think of it as a completely ordinary working day. It isn’t until one of your friends told him to send you their birthday greetings that he remembered. And oh boy does he feel guilty, like srsly, he literally froze when he realizes what day it is today. And you know what that means? ✨Panicc✨

Honestly, I can see him buying the whole store XD. In the state of panic, his common sense just leaves him completely that he ends us buying practically the whole store. It would be sent to the Dawn Winery immediately as he buys some flowers from Flora, who also sent you her birthday greetings, which made him more guilty-

When Diluc steps foot inside the manor, he tries to search for you outside the gardens where he usually finds you but when he doesn't, he gets worried. Asking the head maid immediately about your whereabouts, and his concern and worry (and guilt) grew even more when he finds out that you haven’t gone out of your room. He quickly went to your shared room, with the flowers still in his hands, and knocked on your door. Calling your name softly and asking for permission to enter, when granted he entered the room as quickly as possible. But seeing the sight of you bundled up in your blanket made his heart crack.

Placing the flowers at the bedside table, he quickly made his way in front of you and kneeled down to meet your eye level. You can tell he was very worried about you with how frantic his eyes seem and the concern underlying it. With the way he was staring at you, you can’t help but spill your insecurity to him. The reason why you were hiding in his room rather than go out to celebrate your day of birth. Every word you spill made his heart break even more. Seeing tears started to leak from your eyes, he placed his two hands on your face wiping away the tears with his thumbs. Smiling at you gently and placing a kiss on your eyelids and on your nose.

“I completely understand, my love. Even I sometimes feel that way. Also to the point where I don’t want to celebrate my birthday even, but that won’t do my love. You are so special, you deserve your special day to be well special. If you want to simply lay here and sleep, then so be it. If you want to go out and do something, then I’ll happily oblige. Let’s obliterate those awful thoughts, and if those keep persisting, I’ll slice them up for you. I’ll keep picking you up when you fall. So, what is your command, my love?” (i'm so tempted for him to say master-)

Whatever your answer may be, one thing for sure, Diluc is seen smiling adoringly at you. Even the maids noted how soft the master is around you, particularly today. Whether curled up together in the bed, with him embracing you tightly to his chest and placing a kiss on top of your head. And if you listen carefully, you can hear him quietly humming a tune that his father (or mother) sang to him. Or you two outside in the garden, simply admiring the view with his hand around your waist. 

Either way, at the end of the day, he would wake you up or make you go inside for dinner. You haven’t eaten breakfast or lunch yet so you’re probably hungry by now. If you don’t want to leave your room or want to return to your room, he would understand and make the maids bring the food to you. When the maid(s) finally arrives with the food, you notice the cake on the tray. Looking at him as he chuckles, taking the trays from the maids. Humming a light tune, he scoops a spoonful of cake and holds it to your mouth, with a slight smirk on his face, eyes twinkling with mischief. 

“Stop staring at me like that, did you really think I would let the day go by for you to not celebrate your birthday properly? From what I know, birthdays have cakes in them, whether a huge cake or a cupcake. Say ‘ahh’~... Happy birthday my love. May next year be more enjoyable than now.”

Kaeya remembers your birthday like the back of his hand, I think he’s even more excited than you really. Eagerly awaiting your birthday as he counts down the days, dropping hints and stuff to you birthday-related, and probably plans a birthday party for you. The knights immediately agreed on it, including a certain bard, traveler, and wine master (albeit more hesitantly). He made sure that this party would be successful, constantly checking on the plans and such. To the point that everyone was practically fed up with his constant questions. But they understand that he wants this to be a successful and enjoyable party for you. It got to the point where Diluc kicked him out of his Tavern after asking for the umpteenth time. 

When your day finally arrives, he was practically beaming with joy and excitement. To the point where he can’t hide it behind the cool and suave facade he wears. He quickly made his way to you, going along with the plan of distracting you as they started to prepare for the party. In his total excitement, he didn’t notice the rather gloomy atmosphere around the house. But when he arrived at your door, that is when he noticed how quiet your house is.

Now albeit worried, his excited smile slipping from his face and now replaced with a worried frown, he knocked on your door, calling you in his usual teasing voice. When he didn’t hear your response, the bubble of anxiety appeared in his body. Twisting the knob and finding it unlocked, he quietly and carefully opened the door. Seeing your back immediately, seeing your side rise and fall making him sigh in relief that you were still alive. Closing the door gently but made a noise to alert you of his presence. Taking a seat behind you, he ran his cold fingers on your back, watching you arching at the sudden coldness of his fingers. Smiling slightly, he asked what’s wrong. 

Turning around to face him, you buried your face on his chest, inhaling his strong masculine scent. Instinctively wrapping his arms around you, he played with your hair with one of his hands. Tapping on your head slightly, beckoning for you to answer his question. With no way out, you decided to come clean. You explain how you feel like you don’t feel like you deserve to be treated as special on your birthday and all that sort. His face was void of emotion as he stared at the ceiling with his unique pair of blue eyes. Outside he might seem emotionless. But inside, he was on the brink of insanity. Who dares to put such an idea on his s/o’s mind? Why would you think of that? Was this insecurity of yours also his fault?

“That must be the most stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. You’re not special? Please. Don’t try to make me laugh with that joke ‘cause it’s not funny. You are a jewel, a star, a constellation. As rare as the gems, or rather visions. You can even rival the very sun with your smile. I know those demons in your head keep saying those words to you, the temptation is so tempting, right? Just succumbing to them to make them quiet. But that’s why I’m here, my dearest snowflake. I’m here for you. You’re so special to everyone, most especially to me. You mean the world to me. Anyway, enough of this tear-jerking stuff, we have a party to celebrate. And we can’t celebrate it without the birthday gal/guy now can we?”

Despite your protests, he lifted you effortlessly and carried you outside and into the dawn winery where the party was held. Placing you on the ground and pushing you forward where people from Mondstadt came and greeted you with happy birthdays. Smiling at the sight of you being overwhelmed at the warm greetings, and then chuckling at how bright your face became. Diluc nudges him to you, beckoning him to help you before returning to what he was previously doing (most likely trying to force a bard to not finish all the wines in the vicinity).

After a while in the party, Kaeya brings you to a secluded place with no people for air. Being in a party filled with people could be suffocating at times, especially if you’re not used to it. He intertwined his hands with yours and bends down to meet your eye level (or leans down if you have the same height as him-). He gives you a cheeky smile and proceeds to place a peck on your lips. Chuckling when you pouted and glared at him, wanting more kisses.

“My my, what a greedy vixen~ But it is indeed your birthday so I guess I have no choice but to oblige to whatever my birthday vixen wants me to do. Would you like me to strip as well? Haha. Kidding kidding. Happy birthday, princess/prince. May many more to come. Oh! I forgot. I heard from a certain birdie that you ordered for a personal performance from me~ would you like to get it now?” 

Since we all know that Venti practically doesn’t do anything like every day, I would safely say that he would remember your birthday. Probably save some mora to buy you a gift for your birthday, even though it’s not as fancy as the people in Liyue (they all rich kids-), it’s still meaningful. He probably made a bracelet all by himself with the beads he either bought or also made by himself. Nevertheless, he was as excited as Kaeya for your birthday. Already prepared songs to sing for you when that day comes. 

Venti immediately searches for you when the day finally arrives, but his excited and bright smile vanishes when he can’t find you in the crowd of people. Raising a brow at your sudden disappearance, he searched for you everywhere, the tavern, the church, the headquarters, everywhere but your house. So when he finally arrives at your house, he was filled with worry and concern. Entering your room through the window like usual, he sees your figure sitting on the floor while reading a book.

He pouted at the sight as he made his presence known by asking you why you were here and reading a book on your birthday. He watches as you jump from where you are and turns to look at him, sighing at the sight of him. He slowly made his way to you and sat next to you, his legs sprawled across the floor. He takes note of the food around you, which was non-birthday festive, it was just ordinary food. Not understanding why you’re sulking in your room, he asked you what’s wrong. 

Venti’s eyes widened at your explanation, feeling the sadness leaking at the words you said. They weave themselves around his heart, squeezing it, making him have a hard time breathing. He shares your pain. He was your soulmate after all. He immediately engulfed you in a hug, stuffing his face on the crook of your neck. You were so vulnerable in his eyes. You were so fragile. He desperately wants to protect you from the pain. But looks like he can’t protect you from your own demons. 

“Even though I promised myself to not say or do anything that’ll make you sad, I just need to get it off my chest. I’m sorry you had to suffer through that, those demons that a simple bard that weaves stories into songs can’t erase. Alright, no more feeling sorry for yourself. It’s time to get out and spend the rest of the day enjoyable, perfect for my precious Cecilia.” 

Without any warnings, he picked you up and jumped out of your window. Shrieking at the sudden fast pace, you instinctively wrapped your hands around him as he landed on the ground. Giving you a smug smile while saying “didn’t think i’d let you fall now?” Please slap him. Anyway, he laughed at your aggression and continued to run. Even if you ask where you’re going, he just says it's a secret. So might as well enjoy being in his arms as he continues to run (you swear you can feel the wind adding to his speed but that was just maybe your imagination-).

After a while, he placed you down and you realized where you are. It was Starsnatch Cliff, surrounding you were Cecilia flowers. Venti jumped on you, making you fall to the ground as he giggles. His hat flown back from the force of his sudden attack, he still has that stupid big smile on his face. Since his laughter is contagious, you couldn’t help but laugh alongside him. His eyes glistened with delight at the sight of your smile finally. Grabbing your hand and placing the bracelet he made, he pressed a kiss on your knuckle.

“This bracelet shall be a promise from me to you, a fellow bard to the fairest queen/king. I shall love you for eternity, this heart will only beat for you, and this body belongs to you. If you’re in dire need of assistance, don’t hesitate to call me. I’ll be there, forever and always. Happy birthday, my sweet flower.”

[x] Main Page || [x] Mondstadt Page || [x] Fatui Harbingers Page 

[wannabemobwife]

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas - Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Leave a Light On

Dad!Mob!Tom x Mom!Mob!Reader

-Pairings: Tom Holland x Reader, Rosie Holland x Henry Osterfield, Family!Rosie Holland x Family!Harry Holland (idk really how to do pairings because most characters have interactions with everyone)

-Warnings: Hospital scenes, sadness, blood, typos

-Words: 4.1K

-Key:

Y/M/N = your middle name

Y/L/N = your last name

Y/B/T = your blood type (if you don’t know you can pick a random one, there is O-/+, AB-/+, A+/-, and B-/+)

A/n: I have a too much fun writing the hospital scenes sorry. And before you at me for a second coma, it isn’t one. Some people just take longer to come out of general anesthesia.

Chapter 11: Leave a Light On

Words: 4K

“Oh my god, she still has a pulse” said one of EMTs in the copter.

“Tell the hospital to have as much Y/B/T on hand when we get there.”

“We got you, Mrs. Holland.”

Everything was a blur. You were taunted by your consciousness ebbing like the tide. One minute you were awake, the other not so much. Noises and smells seemed louder and stronger as your sight was stripped from you. A constant buzzing gave the hint of a helicopter, you were rescued. You wanted to give up at that moment. All your energy had dissipated over the hours of waiting. Giving up would make all the pain go away.

But at what cost? You wanted to see Parker’s and Rosie’s smiling face once more. You wanted to see Tom again. Tell him you loved him because you aren’t so sure he truly believed you the last time. You wanted all these things but it seemed you were meant for a different path.

One without pain, struggle and hurt. One that has only known of peace, bliss, and tranquility. One you ready to say goodbye to and the other hello.

Something beyond yourself was keeping in the position you were in. Struggling to bring oxygen to your lungs, bleeding out liter after liter from your side you were ready and needed to give up. Someone else wasn’t ready.

“Mrs. Holland can you hear me?” A doctor said, shining a light in your eyes to see if you were responsive.

“Mrs. Holland, we are going to take good care of you.”

“Oh, wow... she’s soaked entirely through her bandage. I need all the bags from the blood bank of Y/B/T you can find. She could die of exsanguination any moment.

“Tom,” you whispered.

“What was that? Did you hear that?” Asked the hospital staff, working above you. You reached up weakly, to pull your oxygen mask off for a second.

“Tell Tom I love him, please,” was all you could choke out before a terrifying but familiar sound filled the room. A monotone beep. You were coding.

“I need a crash cart in here. Charging to 200… clear,” called out the doctor. Your body jolted up with the force of 200 joules.

“Charging to 300… clear.”

“Charge to 400, CLEAR,” the doctor screamed.

“Charge to 450—.“

“Doctor we aren’t supposed to give that high of a shock,” informed one of the surgical interns.

“I don’t care, this woman needs to see her kids again… Clear,” The doctor said, delivering a final defibrillation. Your heart rate returned to normal, a steady pulse still weak but there.

“Doctor, she has a pneumothorax (collapsed lung) on her right lung,” said one of the medical personnel using the ultrasound. “Shit, we need to get her to the OR now. Let’s move. I’m not going to let her die on me.” The doctor explained.

A plane ride that was only supposed to be 2 hours and 15 minutes melded into what felt like days. No word from Harry or anyone had come about you and Tom. They all landed and took a car to the hospital. It was enough waiting by then, all they knew is that both of you were found. Neglecting to mention dead or alive.

“I’m here for Tom and Y/N Holland. They were airlifted in. Can we see them?” Nikki asked the person at the front desk.

“No hablo ingles, lo siento,” said the receptionist

“IS THERE ANYBODY HERE WHO SPEAKS ENGLISH?” Dom screamed. “Yes, I do. Did I hear you say you are here for Tom and Y/N Holland?” Asked a man clad in a white lab coat.

“Yes. He’s my son and she’s my daughter-in-law. These are their kids.” Nikki explained gesturing to Parker and Rosie.

“Well ma’am if you’ll follow me. I can tell you in private.” “No, whatever needs to be said, they can hear. They want to hear.” “Still follow me to a private waiting room please, your son is in there. Everyone can come,” the doctor concluded. “Alright then,” Nikki responded, following the doctor to a private waiting room.

“Harry.” Rosie said, seeing her favorite uncle.

“You made it, I’ve been waiting for you guys to hear an update.” Harry was so happy to see the rest of his family. “It’s bad, it was really bad,” Harry explained somberly. “Enough with the dilly dally, just tell me. Is my son dead?” Nikki couldn’t take the waiting anymore.

“They were both brought in barely conscious. Tom had lost some blood due to an open wound on his femur, he has a severe concussion, a few cracked ribs and a small knick on his kidney. He is currently in surgery, they are fixing his kidney. The most he will have is a few stitches but, we are very confident he’ll pull through,” explained the doctor.

“And my mom?” Rosie asked.

“Y/N is currently in surgery, she has protruding wound to the abdomen, a collapsed lung, broken ribs, and a severe concussion. She lost a lot of blood, almost dying of exsanguination. She is in surgery to treat her abdominal wound and her lung. Our biggest concern is sepsis, we are worried an infection caused by the elements will occur.”

“So she’ll be okay, right?” Parker questioned.

“She wasn’t conscious like Tom when they found her. In her case the amount of blood she lost might have stopped bringing oxygen to her brain. If she survives the surgery—“

“If?” Rosie gasped, starting to cry.

“Rosie, let him finish,” Parker snapped.

“If she survives, we don’t know when or if she will wake up. We can only hope for the best. I promise to come back with any further updates.”

“Thank you doctor,” said Nikki.

“I need some tea or coffee or a drink. Anyone else?” Sam said, Dom nodded in response.

“I’ll join you and dad,” Paddy said following Dom and Sam out of the room.

Parker was trying to keep everything inside. He actually appreciated the uncertainty of it all, the longer it went on the longer he didn’t have to hear a definitive answer, that you and Tom were dead.

Parker mainly tried to comfort Rosie but that position was filled once Haz and Henry got to the hospital. It was only 30 mins til another doctor approached them.

“Your son is out of surgery. He is resting in room 302, we are just waiting for him to come out of general anesthesia,” came in another doctor with news.

“Thank you. And my daughter-in-law?”

“She is still in surgery,” informed the doctor.

“Ok, thank you. I’m going to go check on Tom. Parker come with?” Nikki asked, she didn’t want to be alone seeing Tom lie in a hospital bed.

“Sure,” Parker said, following Nikki through the door.

“Harry, you’ll stay here with Rosie,” Nikki called out.

“How you doing, Roo?” Harry asked, moving towards Rosie’s side.

“My mom calls me that,” she said, unmoving towards Harry’s love.

Rosie was still like a statue. But her mind was very active, traveling from place to place. Just waiting for someone to update her on your condition.

“I know. She’ll pull through, Rosie.”

“How can you be so certain?”

“Cause I know your mom. For as long as I can remember she has always been the strongest person in the room.” Harry comforted her, draping an arm over her shoulders. “Your dad is convinced she is indestructible. Sure, she has gotten hurt in the past but she has always bounced back. Hasn’t she?” Harry encouraged.

“Yeah, she has,” Rosie sniffled, wiping her nose with her sweater’s sleeve.

“After everything she has survived, she is still here,” Harry asserted. “When she and your dad first were dating, they’d like to scare each other. Tom must’ve pulled something like 20 guns on her. It was really funny to watch,” Harry grinned.

“Tell me more stories please,” Rosie perked up at the anecdotes.

“Well there was that time when your mom told your dad about being pregnant with both you and Parker.”

“I already know that one.”

“Ok, let me think… oh. One time we pulled a prank on her. All of us, me, your dad, Sam, Paddy and Haz. She was supposed to speak at this benefit promoting something… I want to say a disease… maybe climate change… who cares,” Harry began. “But she is better at it now but she used to be so scared of public speaking. That night at the gala, she had a panic attack and Tom went to comfort her backstage, while the boys and I all went into her purse and switched out her speech for the joke one we made.”

“She went on stage and broke in to a laughing fit. All her nerves dissipated as she stood up there, cracking jokes from left and right. It was really funny because she was so scared she would read whatever was written on the cards. She did end up making a fool out of herself, but it was funny nonetheless. She was so mad at us, she avoided Tom for a week,” Harry finished, reminiscing of that night.

“Wow, that’s mean. Like really mean,” Rosie remarked as his story came to an end.

“No it wasn’t. It was funny, she’ll laugh about it now if you ask her.”

“Was she as mad as she has been lately?” Rosie inquired.

“What do you mean?”

“Mom and dad have been fighting a lot… I’m scared they won’t be able to work it out. I’ve never seem them like this,” Rosie cried, fighting back a fit of sobs.

“Roo, those two? Are you kidding me? They will work it out, they always have.”

“But that isn’t a guarantee.”

“Rosie, your mom and dad have been written in the stars since the beginning. Nothing will ever break them apart. And almost dying really brings people back together. I wouldn’t worry Rosie, they’ll be ok,” Harry consoled her.

Rosie really needed to hear that. Something to get her mind off all the death and sickness that surrounded her. She wasn’t ready to say goodbye. She needed you to hold her once more.

“Mrs. Holland, Y/N is out of surgery now. If you’ll follow me I can take you to her room,” a doctor said to Nikki as she was stroking Tom’s hair, waiting for him to wake up.

“Oh thank god, thank you. Parker do you want to come?” Nikki asked.

“No, I think I’ll stay here with dad. In case he wakes up. I’m not ready to see her like that anyway,” Parker mumbled, needing every excuse to not walk into your room.

Nikki just nodded in response. Nikki was there when Rosie was in her coma and she knew you liked to talk to her as if she was there, so she did the same.

“Hey, Y/N. I’m sorry this happened. The doctors have warned me that you might not wake up and I’m here to tell you that’s not an option. Your kids need you. Tom needs you…. He won’t be able to live without you. None of us will,” Nikki said, holding you hand. As soon as Rosie got word, she was already there. Standing in your doorway peering at your sunken body.

“Mom? It’s Rosie…. It’s your Roo,… why isn’t she waking up?” Rosie came barging in. She’d never seen you in a state like this.

“Mom? Mommy, please,” Rosie said, starting to shake you a bit.

“Rosie, come here,” Nikki said, pulling her into her arms. “She’ll be ok. All we have to do is wait.” Nikki concluded.

In Tom’s room, Parker was still there by his dad’s side. Everything had gotten massively screwed up. He was betraying his own dad and Tom didn’t even know.

“Parker?” Tom croaked out, slightly moving.

“Dad, I’m so glad you are okay,” Parker lunged to hug him.

“Me too, buddy,” Tom said, gritting his teeth to mask the pain.

“How’s mom?” Tom asked, praying you were still alive. It had been a rough night. Images of your half-dead body leaning against him for support plagued his memory.

“Umm… you should see for yourself.”

“What room is she in?” Tom asked, jumping out of bed.

“Dad, I don’t think it’s such a good idea you get up,” Parker exclaimed.

“Parker, don’t you dare stand in my way.”

“Mr. Holland, you’re awake — woah, you can’t get up. Your stitches could rip,” the nurse spoke with a thick Spanish accent.

“I don’t care. Let me see my wife,” Tom yelled.

“You may need to sedate him,” Parker said cheekily.

“Fuck that,” Tom cursed.

“You aren’t doing anything to me till I see her,” Tom asserted, the nurse just nodded in response and brought him a wheel chair.

Parker wheeled him through the hospital. He was about to face his fear as well as Tom. It both being the fact that you were dead and not longer living. They weren’t ready for that.

Tom came into your room and it was like a time machine. All those times he was walked into a room similar to this one with the white walls, white sheets, bright blinding lights and the machines that beep to no end. He was taken back to every time he had seen you lying in a hospital bed.

All the times he knew he hadn’t protected you. All the guilt and anguish came flooding back. Washing over him like a tsunami.

He walked in to see everyone gathered around you. Rosie was sitting on the left side of your bed, clutching your left hand and Henry was next to her keeping an arm around her shoulder. Tom didn’t care about them anymore, all that mattered was you.

“Dad, you’re awake!” Rosie cheered, as she saw Tom in the doorway.

“Yeah baby, I’m okay,” he said, holding Rosie close to his chest.

“I’m scared, dad. I’m scared she won’t wake up,” Rosie cried.

“I know. I am too.” Tom responded, his eyes still fixed to your lifeless figure.

“You know it was just a 5 weeks ago, you were lying a hospital bed just like mom. And she was holding on to your hand just like you are to her. And if you woke up from that, I can promise you she’ll wake up from this,” Tom encouraged.

“You really think so?” Rosie queried.

“I know so.… You know what your mom loves to tell me?”

“No. What?”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“It sounds like her,” Rosie chucked to herself.

“Yeah, it does.” Tom did the same, he was the one keeping you here. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye. 17 years was nothing compared to lifetime he was destined to have with you. Nobody accounts for the times where something so drastic happens that it can change your entire timeline.

Nobody believes they will die tomorrow or get hit by a bus anywhere. People just live in day to day life thinking that they have a 100 years to go.

You’d think by now, he’d gotten used to seeing you in a hospital bed. Maybe grown accustomed to it. On the contrary, every time he’d see you like this he’d go weak at the knees and beg to switch places with you. To be the one lying there, on death’s door, not you

Every time he has made a promise, your life has been put on the line. You are constantly caught in the crossfires. Tom slowly remembered why he hated hospitals so much, especially when they were associated with you.

“We’ll give you two a minute,” Nikki said, motioning for everyone to clear the room so it was just Tom and you.

“Hey, darling. I told you we’d make it. We had two choices either we died together or we made it together.” Tom began, trying not to cry.

“Y/N, I’m standing here and I’m okay. So it’s only a matter of time before I see you again. We promised it would be us together. Don’t you dare go back on that promise from ages ago, I’m supposed to go before you. Ok? It’s supposed to me. You promised me.”

“This one that you have to keep. I know it might be nearly impossible to, love. But there is no but or if, there is only you waking up and seeing me. Seeing your husband who loves you more than life itself. Seeing our two beautiful kids. I know I haven’t been your favorite person lately, so don’t do it for me. Do it for them, Parker and Rosie. They need you, more than they know.”

“Alright princess, it's only a matter of time. I’ll see you soon.” Tom finished, pressing a kiss to your forehead. One of longing, he just wanted to see your smiling face again. He let himself go completely, breaking down the flood gates. Tears started coming and they didn’t stop, they couldn’t.

Haz peered through the open door, to see Tom crying over you, he immediately jumped into best mate mode and went to comfort Tom.

“Hey. It’s ok. You can let it out,” Harrison said, pulling Tom into his arms.

“I was so awful to her Haz. I let her think I cheated on her so she wouldn’t be mad about Rosie and Henry,” Tom cried out.

“Why? What did you do? You know what, that’s not important right now. The point is she will pull through.”

“She could be dying and the last moment I can only remember with her is our fight. I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

“She’s not dying, Tom. Y/N has survived much more than this and promise you, you will say hello again.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Tom said, taking a line from your vernacular.

“Come on, let’s get some coffee… Here, hop on. I’ll push you,” Haz said, grabbing Tom’s wheelchair

“For fucks sake, you aren’t pushing me. I’m not some sick, crippled patient.” Tom exclaimed.

“Well… you did just get out of surgery.”

“I don’t care. I’m not going to let my helicopter crashing be the reason I can’t walk and I am looked at with pity.”

“Alright Tom, I believe we were going to get some coffee.”

“I don’t want to leave her alone,” Tom whispered.

“Rosie will be in here in a moment,” Haz explained.

“Ok.. Roo, can you go sit with your mom while I get your dad some coffee?” Haz asked. Tom still didn’t want to leave you but he knew you would want him to eat something.

“Yes, I’ll keep her safe.”

“I know you will, baby… Hold it. Hey Henry, can I talk to you?” Tom said, holding Henry back from entering the room.

“Dad,” Rosie said, sternly.

“Don’t worry, sweetie,” Tom said pulling Henry to the side.

“I’m sorry Tom.. um I mean Mr. Holland but I love your daughter more than anything,” Henry stammered.

“I just wanted to say thank you for being there for her when.. you know,” Tom admitted.

“Of course, I love her very much. And if the time every comes where I plan on marrying her I will ask for hands in marriage,” Henry promised.

“Woah kid, slow down. This is permission to date. No talking or even thinking about marriage, you understand. Also wear a fucking condom.”

“Yes, sir. Understood… Thanks Tom.”

“You’re a good kid, Henry. She’s in good hands,” Tom grinned, Henry just smiled and returned to Rosie. Returning to his rightful place, in her arms.

“Haz, did you bring me a change of clothes. I need to get out of this fucking gown,” Tom chuckled.

“Are you sure that’s a good ide—“ Haz started but was soon cut off.

“Eh, eh,” Tom interrupted giving him a harsh glare.

“You are not weak, I get it. Yeah, they are in my bag,” Haz concluded.

Tom said, “Thank you,” in return.

The waiting was back and it was killing Tom once again. This time he wasn’t waiting for both your impending deaths, just yours. It was eating him from the inside out.

You didn’t have enough time together. It wasn’t enough. Tom desired more, he needed more. All your favorite moments of you played through his head. Like he was watching a movie of his life with you, his love story.

One specifically, the day he proposed to you. It was hard to top his happiness that day.

All the days leading up to it he was distant and flighty. It worried it you greatly. Was he planning to break up with you? You were consumed with never-ending negative thoughts about your relationship.

It had been a while since you and Tom had a date night. He’d blown you off a few times to plan out the perfect proposal, afraid he’d let the question just slip out somehow. However, that was unknown to you so all you thought was, he’s an ass.

Tom was in his office, planning out how he was going to do it. What he would wear, where he would propose, what would he say. What would you say? He was nervous wreck.

“Haz, I can’t have anyone come in here ok?” Tom ordered. He must’ve practiced it 7 times. Getting down on one knee and declaring his love for you behind closed doors.

“Understood, Tom,” Haz said, giving him a cheeky grin as he closed his door. Not even 10 mins later, you came barging in through the front door. In a fury because Tom hadn’t returned any of your calls.

“Where is he?” You asked Haz. “Y/N?” He said, confused as to why you were here. Well, you did live there.

“Where’s Tom? I have to talk to him,” you asserted. “Why am I asking you? Of course, he is in his study,” you replied to your own question.

“NO, you can’t go in there,” Haz said, following you to Tom’s office.

“And why not?”

“He’s in a meeting.”

“What meeting would he have a 10:30 at night… Unless?” Your heart sank at the possibility of Tom not alone in there.

“Unless what?”

“He has a woman in there doesn’t he?”

“Umm.”

“It’s fine. I’ll go. You won’t see me around anymore. He chose her over me,” you said, trying not to cry. But you weren’t going to put up a fight.

“Y/N it’s not like that,” Haz called after you, trying to stop you from walking away.

“Then what is it Haz?”

“I can’t tell you?… Just go in there and see for yourself.”

“I don’t want see them.”

“Just do it,” Haz ordered, you eventually agreed. Opening the door to a very well-dressed Tom down on one knee holding a blue velvet box in his hands.

“People always spoke of soulmates and I didn’t believe them. But then I found you. And I had never been so happy to be proven wrong. Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N you make me want to be a better man. You are my inspiration for everything. I can’t ever imagine living without you. Will you marry me?” Tom said, oblivious to you standing right there.

“Yes,” you said without hesitation.

“No! No, no. You weren’t supposed to see that. Haz I told you to guard the door,” Tom yelled.

“Yes, Tommy. I’ll marry you”, you continued, hoping he’d hear you.

“God, it's ruined now. I’m so sorry. I had this huge plan take you to the London eye,” Tom apologized profusely, running his hands through the curls atop his head in frustration.

“Tom, you're not hearing me. I want to be your wife,” you exclaimed, you couldn’t contain your excitement.

“You do?” Tom surprised at your answer.

“Yes, that’s what I’ve been saying. YES!” You screamed. Tom immediately grabbed you twirling you in the air and kissed you with all the love and passion you deserved. He had been neglecting you so he wouldn’t spoil it.

He put the ring on your finger. It looked as though it was home. You were his and he was yours. Nothing could top that moment.

Thinking about you and the time spent together. It made it that much harder to say goodbye.

Tom was brought out of his trance as you stirred, starting to wake. All heads and eyes turned towards you.

“Y/N. Honey, it’s ok. You were in a helicopter crash. You’re ok. You’re ok. I’m so happy to see you,” Tom whispered, tucking the hair out of your face.

The moment you came to, your eyes widened and a look of panic adorned your face. You were completely lost. Unaware of all your surroundings. You managed to croak out three words. Not an “I love you,” not words of love, quite the opposite.

“Who are you?”

A/n: Alright, Y/N lived. As I promised, there are 17 chapter in this series, 6 more to go. I will start writing the sequel series once all these chapters have been posted, even though I have it already planned out in my head lol. New chapters every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas Masterlist

Taglist: @dummiesshort @thenoddingbunny-blog @adriannauni @bi-lmg @allthisfortommy

[a-singleboat]

LA Girl

Word Count: 3.5k

Request: Since requests are open, can I ask for one where Shayne Topp has secretly been dating an Alt girl (piercings, coloured hair, tattoos ect) for months and she has anxiety and is nervous about meeting the squad as she feels like they’re gonna judge her for being so different to him so Shayne introduces her to Damien first alone and Damien automatically likes her and they click really well so she tells him she’s ready to go public and meet the rest of the squad and they all accept her?❤️ - Anon

A/N: I hope you guys like this! It took me a while to conceptualize it at first but then the rest came pretty naturally :D

Warning(s): Mentions of oral sex (male receiving), swearing, mentions of sex, self deprecating thoughts

You never really liked living in Los Angeles. Most days it was too bright and there were too many people, too many tourists. Yeah, you hated living here. That is, of course, until you met Shayne. 

At first, it appeared that you and Shayne were as different as night and day. Literally. He was the perfect LA Boy, with his blonde hair and his trim physique, always looking like the sun while you… you liked your dark colors and vibrant hairstyles, not to mention your multitudes of piercings and tattoos. In the mornings that you did spend together, Shayne liked to trace them with the tips of his fingers before the day started. 

These past few months with Shayne have been euphoric, for lack of better words. It seemed you were forever stuck in your honeymoon phase together but even you knew that it couldn’t last forever. The first fight you’d have, the first disagreement, stemmed from your own insecurities. 

As you’d mentioned before, Shayne looked like the perfect LA Boy, as did the rest of his friends. He didn’t stand out while walking the length of Hollywood Boulevard and he certainly didn’t catch any of the police officer’s eyes when he went to the bank. 

Which is why you weren’t so sure you wanted to meet them, his friends that is. You were sure that they would judge you for your alternative fashion choices, just like everyone else did. 

“They’re not like that,” Shayne tried to convince you for the umpteenth time that day. You had just finished washing the dishes, using your day off to catch up on chores you’d neglected during the week. Shayne was supposed to be completing his coursework for his degree but instead he’d decided to pester you with this topic once more. 

“My friends are super supportive and they just want to meet you,” he tried again. “And if they say anything then they’re not really my friends. They’ll love you, I promise.”

You picked up the laundry basket full of clean clothes from beside your front door, dumping the basket out on the couch. You cleared off a small section on the coffee table so that you could fold your laundry. 

“I’m just worried,” you confessed, folding a cropped shirt in half twice before dropping it into the laundry basket. “You say that they’re supportive and that they just want to meet me but you also just said, ‘if they say anything.’ Shayne, if I really didn’t have a reason to worry, you wouldn’t have thrown that in there.” 

“Okay, that was my bad,” he admitted, “but I’m serious. You have nothing to worry about, they’ll all love you.”

You gave him a weary look, folding a pair of black cargo pants over your arm. A few weeks ago, you’d met Shayne’s parents and while they were two of the most loving and welcoming people you had met, you could still see the discomfort and unease hidden behind their eyes. They expected someone different, with less tattoos and piercings most likely. They probably weren’t expecting their blonde baby boy to be with a neon-pink-haired twenty-something with daddy issues galore. 

“Okay, how about this,” Shayne took the pants from your hands, folding them and setting them onto the coffee table. “I’ll invite Damien over to mine for dinner tonight as a tester. If everything goes well with him, then maybe you’ll consider meeting everyone else?”

You took up your cargo pants once more, settling them in the laundry basket with the rest of your folded clothing. You had less than half the original pile left, the rest of the clothing being mainly bras and socks that still needed to be sorted. 

“Okay,” you gave in. What was the worst that could happen?

As it turns out, completely forgetting that Damien was due to arrive any moment at Shayne’s apartment was the worst thing that could happen. His best friend’s first impression of you would forever be this: you on your knees with Shayne’s dick halfway down your throat while you gave him a before-dinner blowjob. 

Embarrassment burned through your entire being as Damien realized what was happening before he closed the front door and called out, “I’m so sorry, I should have knocked!” 

You looked up at Shayne who couldn’t decide between being mortified and being smug. It took everything within your power not to punch him in the dick, considering it was literally right there in front of you. 

“Go… take care of yourself,” you awkwardly chuckled, patting his thigh lightly. “I’ll let your friend in and hopefully not die from embarrassment on the way.” 

Shayne scrambled up off the couch and into his bathroom while you opened the container of mints you kept under the coffee table for these types of instances. Not that you and Shayne expected people to walk in during any of that normally. You washed your hands at the sink while you chewed the mint, giving yourself a moment to breathe before even thinking about opening the door.

Once you’d calmed down enough, you opened the door for Damien, unable to meet his eye as you let him in. 

“Uh, sorry you had to see any of that…” You closed the door behind him, double checking the lock to make sure it was still working. “We don’t usually do it out here, um--”

“You don’t need to explain yourself,” Damien tried to save the night. “It’s not like I haven’t seen Shayne’s dick before--I mean--Not in the way you’d think--”

The two of you dissolved into laughter, still thinking of a way to dig your way out of the hole you’d awkwardly made. When Shayne was telling you about Damien, he did mention that he was possibly the most awkward of his friends which made him the perfect ‘test monkey’ for the night. 

“I should’ve knocked,” Damien settled, an apologetic look on his face. “Shayne gave me a key a while back and I usually just let myself in but that’s really no excuse. I’m sorry.”

Shayne had also mentioned Damien was the most polite out of them all. Not that the others weren’t polite, because they were. He had meant it in the way that Damien would apologize for existing if he could (which he has done before). 

“It’s okay, really. Though, we might have to tweak the story of how we met for future conversations.” You made your way into Shayne’s little kitchenette. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“Water is fine,” Damien said, moving to sit in one of the chairs at the high table. You grimaced at the couch, making a mental note to grab some disinfectant once Shayne came out of the bathroom. “And yeah, we’ll just leave that part out for future retellings.”

You pulled a glass from one of the cabinets, filling it with water from the Brita. You added a few ice cubes as well, smiling as they clinked against the sides of the glass. 

“So, how did you and Shayne meet?” Damien asked, thanking you for the glass. You took up the other seat, crossing your right leg over your left. 

“At the tattoo shop I work at, actually,” you played with the end of your belt, twisting the fabric over your hand until it covered your knuckles. For this meeting, you’d decided to tone down your wardrobe--less chains and more softer fabrics. Your pleated skirt had been exchanged for the black cargo pants you’d folded earlier. That paired with a simple side release buckle belt and a structured white top for contrast, this was probably the most “tame” you’ve dressed in a while. 

“He came in with another friend of his, Paul, and sat with him while I worked on a piece for his sleeve. After that, I gave him my number in case he ever wanted to get a tattoo himself and the rest is history.”

“I can’t believe Paul technically met you before I did,” Damien said in disbelief. You heard the toilet flush and the sink turn on which meant your boyfriend would be joining the two of you soon. 

The awkwardness between you and Damien had faded slightly but you could still feel the tension in the air. Shayne opened the bathroom door and you looked over your shoulder to watch as your no longer disheveled boyfriend entered the room. He’d changed his pants, which was fair, and he was holding the disinfectant in hand as if he’d read your mind. 

You hopped off the seat and took it from him, spraying down the entire couch while he greeted his friend. 

“Really sorry you had to see that,” Shayne said, laughing as they clapped their hands together. “We would have disinfected the couch either way, just so you know.” 

Damien laughed as you finished cleaning off the couch, setting the disinfectant on the coffee table. You couldn’t be bothered with putting it away in the bathroom right now. 

“Well, this is Y/n, my girlfriend,” Shayne pulled on your arm until you settled into his side. You gave a small wave. “And she made Italian for dinner so unless you now want nothing to do with me, we can start eating now.” 

“Sounds great.”

Once you actually got over the initial awkwardness, your night actually turned out enjoyable. Damien was extremely funny and nice, just like Shayne had said. He’d even asked about your job and your own tattoos, expressing his own thoughts about getting one or two done himself. 

“If you get it done at my shop, I can get you a discount,” you offered, taking a sip of your water. “Friends and family get twenty-percent off, though that doesn’t include the tip.” 

“Really?” Damien asked. He looked shocked that you’d even offer to tattoo him, let alone provide him with a discount. 

“Yeah,” you grinned. “Just let me know when and we can set up an appointment.” 

“That’d be amazing.”

The three of you were sitting on the couch now, you and Shayne sitting on the side closest to the window while Damien was on the other end. His body was angled toward the two of you as “The Office” played quietly in the background. 

“Does this mean I’ll be seeing you around more?” Damien asked. “Shayne always comes alone to out-of-work get-togethers and Courtney’s been pestering him to bring you around for some time now.”

“She has?” you looked up at Shayne, asking if that was true. 

He nodded. “Why do you think I’ve been so insistent on getting you to meet my friends? They all want to meet you.”

“It doesn’t help that you’re all he talks about,” Damien chuckled. “I swear, every other word from his mouth is something about you. Whether it’s wondering what you’re doing to wondering how you’re doing, it’s always about you.” 

You reached up and patted Shayne’s cheek lightly. “Aw, babe. You think about me? How embarrassing.”

  He swatted your hand away, chuckling as you giggled at the shared joke between you. 

You talked for a little longer, sharing stories between the three of you before Damien caught sight of the time. 

“I should get going,” he said, standing up. You got up as well, giving him a hug before letting him and Shayne say their goodbyes. Once Damien had left the apartment completely, you released a breath you didn’t know you were holding in, you shoulder relaxing. While Shayne was an extrovert, you found yourself physically and mentally drained from hanging out with just one person. 

The entire experience was new for you. Since you’d started dressing how you wanted to dress and expressing yourself accordingly, there have been people less than willing to be nice to you or show you any sort of kindness. It was mostly linked to the fact that people thought that if you wore black, put on lots of make-up, had piercings, and had tattoos you were a bad person and an even worse role model. Not only was that hurtful, it made you very self conscious about meeting new people. 

“That wasn’t so bad,” Shayne said, pulling you in for a hug. You sunk into his arms, wrapping your own arms around his torso. 

“It wasn’t terrible,” you replied, your words muffled by the fabric of his shirt. You turned your head sideways so that you could hear his steady heartbeat, allowing it to lull you into what felt like security. “Though, the beginning could have been better.” 

“We’re never speaking of the beginning again.”

“Agreed.”

Shayne started to sway with you in his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before letting go. “So how do you feel about going to brunch with the rest of my friends on Saturday?”

After meeting Damien, your anxiety had subsided. No longer did you think you would be judged for the type of clothes you chose to wear but this time the anxiety of meeting so many people at once surfaced. When you didn’t respond, he looked down at you worried. 

“Tell me what’s wrong.” 

“I just…” If you said what you were thinking out loud, you knew you were going to sound ridiculous. “It’s nothing.”

“No, really,” he frowned, “tell me what’s wrong. Bottling it all up inside won’t work this time.” 

You sighed. “I--Shayne, you’re perfect, you know that?” 

“I wouldn’t say perfect but…” You dug your fingers into his side, causing him to laugh. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“It’s just that you’re the perfect LA Boy and I look nothing like the perfect LA Girl that you so clearly deserve. I mean, Damien was nice but that’s literally just how he is. What if your other friends think I’m, like, a terrible influence on you with my millions of piercings and tattoos and attention-seeking hair and--”

He cut you off with his lips, arms pulling you in impossibly closer and effectively stopping you in your tracks. 

When he pulled away, you fixed him with a playful glare. “Shayne Robert Topp, you did not just pull a movie cliche on me while I was airing out all my concerns to you. Apologize right now.” 

“I’m sorry,” he said, pressing another kiss to the top of your head. “But, Y/n, you don’t need to be the ‘perfect LA Girl,’ you’re perfect the way you are. That doesn’t mean I’d like you any less if you decided that you did want to become whatever you think is the ‘perfect LA Girl’ because I’d like you no matter what. I just like you.”

“Even if I went bald?”

“Even if you went bald.” 

You’ve said it once and you’ll say it again: you fucking loved this man. 

“I love you,” you said, pouting your bottom lip. You felt the tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you looked up at him in adoration. 

“I love you, too.” 

By the time Saturday rolled around, you were ready to meet the rest of Shayne’s friends. Most of your anxieties had been successfully quelled, though they still lingered. You had gotten your hair done again the day before, meaning you were now sporting a bright neon green. You matched your makeup to your vibrant new dye and picked out a heat-appropriate outfit. 

“Are you ready to go?” Shayne called from your front room, interrupting your self-admiration session. You gave yourself one last look in the full-length mirror in your room before slipping on the pair of DnD dice filled platform shoes that added at least three inches to your height. 

“Ready.” You stopped to pose in the doorway, the bottom of your shirt riding up as you leaned against the wooded frame. “Baby, how do I look?” 

Shayne looked up from his phone, his jaw dropping the second he laid eyes on you. A blush settled nicely onto your cheeks, as you grew shy under his gaze. He dropped his phone on the couch and crossed the room in three long strides. He pulled you in by the waist, pressing a kiss to your lips. You melted into his touch, a giddy feeling spreading through your being as your arms looped around his neck, bringing him closer. 

“You look amazing,” he breathed, pulling away. You giggled as you realized that a bit of your black lipstick had transferred off onto his lip. You reached up and wiped his top lip with your thumb. 

“Thank you,” you giggled, rubbing your fingers together until the black rubbed off. “What time did your friends say?”

“We’ve got some time…” his fingers crept up your side, dipping under your shirt and tracing the band of your bra with his thumb. 

You smacked his hand. “Naughty boy.”

You didn’t end up leaving the apartment for another thirty minutes, though you couldn’t complain about it. Still, you ended up making it on time. From where you’d parked on the street, you could see Shayne’s friends spread across two connected tables, laughing on the patio. 

Damien was the first to spot the two of you, standing from his seat and calling out, inviting you into the sectioned off area. You took up residence in the seat closest to him, leaving Shayne to take the seat on your other side. 

“You guys, this is my girlfriend, Y/n,” Shayne introduced you to everyone at the table. There were nine other people sitting at the table. You recognized maybe six of them from the videos you’d watched, while the other three were most likely spouses (considering how close they were sitting next to who you assumed were their significant others). 

“Hi, Y/n!” the blonde sitting next to Damien greeted. You recognized her immediately as the inspiration for Shayne’s alter ego, Courtney Freaking Miller. 

You smiled politely as everyone went around introducing themselves to you, from Olivia and Sam to Sarah and Claudio, you didn’t feel out of place for one second. The hand that had been tightly intertwined with Shayne’s relaxed as you grew even more comfortable around his friends. 

“So Damien told us that you worked at a tattoo parlor,” Ian inquired, propping an arm up on the table and resting his chin in the palm of his hand. On his left sat Anthony, who also looked interested in your answer. “And Shayne did, too, I guess. Did Damien tell you that your boyfriend literally never stops talking about you?”

You giggled. “He did tell me that and I find it adorable that he can’t go a second without missing me.” 

“I wish Peter was like that,” the purple haired woman, Mari, complained playfully, nudging her husband’s side. Peter just laughed it off, casually putting his arm around her shoulders. 

“You do not,” he refuted. “You get flustered when I even mention you to my friends.”

She huffed, though there were no traces of anger to be found on her face. “It’s the sentiment that counts.”

Courtney put her menu down, reaching over to grab her glass of water. “I’ve always wanted to get a tattoo. Y/n, yours are so pretty.”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks at the compliment. “Thank you! I actually did most of them myself.” 

Courtney’s eyes widened at that. She reached over Damien, who had leaned far back enough in his seat to allow her to do that. She motioned at your sleeve, specifically at the roses that decorated the back of your forearm. They were cliche and most likely overused but you just thought they were pretty. 

“Those? You did those yourself?”

“Yeah!” you said enthusiastically. You offered your arm out, allowing her to take a closer look. “My friend, Alyssa, designed it for me and as soon as I was trusted to wield an actual tattoo gun, it was the first piece I worked on.”

“That’s insanely cool,” she gushed, tracing a finger over one of the larger roses. “And you’re insanely talented.”

“Thank you!”

For some reason, Courtney was originally your biggest concern. Most of the insecurity had sprouted from the constant online presence of the ship Shourtney, which Shayne assured you was nothing but a meme. And you trusted your boyfriend, and though you didn’t know Courtney, you trusted her too. But sitting here, at the same brunch spot as her, sharing the same meal as she was, all your fears washed away. 

It was incredibly difficult not to like her. Not only was she extremely nice, but insanely pretty as well. Though you had to accredit most of your confidence to Shayne, who only had eyes for you despite everything else. You’d thought that you would find yourself vying for his attention in front of everyone but not once did he leave you to flounder. He was always there, ready to step into any conversation you were having. 

When you’d all finished your meals and began to wrap up the late morning, you couldn’t help but show your gratitude for your amazing boyfriend by pressing a huge kiss to his cheek, whispering that you loved him while everyone had grown content in their own little conversations with each other. 

Content, he grinned and his arm around your shoulders tightened just that much more as he used his free hand to tilt your face up towards him. He pressed a kiss to your lips, keeping it short and sweet, before pulling away and whispering, “I love you, too.” 

TAGLIST

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[mbti-all-the-things]

Myers-Briggs Types as Songs from my Greek Mythology Album

The album is called From the Kindly Ones, and it tells the stories of figures in the Greek Underworld, from the point of view of the Fury Alecto, who punishes or otherwise knows them. Each one teaches a lesson Alecto feels the figure needs to learn, or features some other opinion the Fury has. 

There are 16 songs, so I figured, why not? Each blurb includes the title, the type, a sample lyric, and some explanation.  There are four sections of the album: Kings, Queens, the Innocent, and the Guilty.

The lyrics are here, and the entire album (a rough acoustic recording) is included here if you want to listen to your type’s song! 

I. KINGS

Dictator - INTJ

It’s no fun when you didn’t want to be the ruler of the world ? But the job is yours, there’s no denying

Hades’ song is about a man in an unwanted position of power, forever set apart with terrible duty and ability from the rest of his kind. But he was granted this broader perspective of the world for better or for worse, and I think the INTJ Mastermind type can relate.

Peaches Before Gold - ENTP

You earned the gold / You made the score / You saw a win and made it yours

Midas’ song cautions against ambition and greed trumping interpersonal relationships. While he gains unimaginable wealth, he becomes unable to show his daughter what he’s won. ENTPs can be prone to falling into a need to “win” above all else.

Down - ISFP

Death is no giant; it’s more of a king / Small like a tyrant, and just as inevitable

Sisyphus’ song details why he is condemned to roll a boulder up a hill forever. He was cunning and creative, and managed to cheat death more than once, for which he was punished. The ISFP’s individualism can sometimes make them believe that rules don’t apply to them.

The Dictator Remix - ENTJ

Lie on the chaise lounge while they lower grapes in front of you / Go on, keep chasing the high like the dictators do

Tantalus’ song is a mirror of Hades,’ showing a man who grasped at power his whole life, trying to cheat the gods, only to hurt those around him and damn himself. The ENTJ can be incredibly focused on success, but needs to understand humility to be truly powerful.

~

II. QUEENS

Friend of Fury - ISTP

You drew a bath of roses and you stood behind the king / You heard it then, the sound of blood when it decides to sing

Clytemnestra’s song depicts a woman taken advantage of her whole life, who finally breaks the chains of society to take revenge on her husband. The ISTP is an independent, practical soul who often thinks against the grain and is willing to take swift action, like this queen.

Upside Down - ESFP

You’re a creature of ego, oh Lady in the Chair / To see Aphrodite’s face beside your own could grant some clarity

Cassiopeia’s song tells the story of a vain queen who boasted of her daughter’s beauty above that of a goddess. While ESFPs can fall into the trap of vanity, they (like this queen) also have strong bonds with others, especially taking pride in their families.

The Queen of All The Ghosts - ESFJ

I was once like you / I was once a martyr, too / You, a sign of spring / Me, a warning of the justice I would bring

Persephone’s song gives a glimpse into the mind of Hades’ wife, and how her internment in the Underworld was more her decision than the myth leads us to believe. Like the Queen of the Dead, the ESFJ often makes quietly strong decisions for their family and for their own needs.

~

III. THE INNOCENT

Good Boy - ISFJ

If they would listen to your words and not the mouths that they escape / I think they’d love you, dear

Cerberus’ song is a sad one, but it’s also full of compassion. The three-headed dog is most often seen as a terrifying figure, but the narrator of this song sees him as an innocent. The ISFJ’s desire to care for others and natural gentleness is on full display here.

Falling From Grace - INFJ

So climb the stairs to heaven while I wait here on the ground / Paying no attention to the bodies raining down

Icarus’ song warns against perfectionism, following the story of a young man who up until now has easily navigated the patterns of life. INFJs are prone to god complexes due to their ability to see beyond the surface of life, but they may come crashing down if they are too reliant on it.

Coins - INTP

‘Cause the ferryman will take it from under your tongue / Doesn’t really matter if you die young 

Charon’s song covers the ferryman’s singular interest in his mission: ferry souls across the Styx and receive payment for it. The INTP can become completely fixated on a certain topic, neglecting all else to puruse what they deem most interesting at the time.

Follow Me, Prelude - ISTJ

One, too bound to his lyre / And one who a liar kept in the ground

Orpheus’ and Eurydice’s songs are preceded by this very short prelude. While it’s the shortest song on the album (sorry, ISTJs!), the practicality of this piece lines up with the ISTJ’s. They are also very to-the-point, and these lines pack a powerful punch, summing up the next story.

Follow Me, Pt. 1 - ENFP

What you wanted was a mystery, even to me / Why do I follow you when I don’t even know where you’re leading me?

Eurydice’s song is the only one on the album from the subject’s point of view, rather than the narrator’s. The story of her open heart and innocent nature mirror the ENFP’s, idealists who may find themselves in the sad position of loving those who cannot love them back.

~

IV. THE GUILTY

Follow Me, Pt. 2 - INFP

Should I listen to men who would tear me apart? / I’m sorry, my love, but your face isn’t worth my heart

Orpheus’ song depicts his devotion to his art and ideals, and how that extends beyond his devotion to Eurydice. The fiercely individual and creative INFP needs to balance their focus on ideals with reality and relationships, which Orpheus has unfortunately failed to do.

Visitor - ESTJ

Hera saw it in your heart (she held it there herself, you know) / And so she knew how it could stain your darkest clothes

Heracles’ song is about the demigod’s disproportionate strength and rage, and how Hera manipulated both to cause his life harm. ESTJs are strong-willed and tough, and need to be careful of allowing their rigid tendencies to break the softer world around them.

Doomed - ESTP

Sitting on the head of your father’s coffin / Sitting on the bed while your mother’s watching

Oedipus’ song tells the story of a man told of his dark fate, who fulfills it in his effort to avoid it. ESTP individuals are bold, which can come at the price of taking opportunistic risks. Like Oedipus, they could end up acting on something with unexpected consequences.

To Cower, To Covet - ENFJ

Theseus, do you think of your friend in the pit? / Pirithous — condemned, while you got away with it

Theseus’ and Pirithous’ song shows the double standard of condemnation when a slight is personal rather than impersonal. The ENFJ is an idealistic leader who may, like Hades with these young men, hold others to a high standard - but who also may be too hard on themselves.

[emilyofjane]

Why the Disney Princesses definitely need therapy: a Hot Take

Snow White

Losing her parents as a child and having to learn to take care of herself at a very young age (Snow White is 14 in the movie, and judging by her work ethic, she appears to at least have some experience with living independently before moving in with the 7 dwarves)

Lack of socialization due to isolation

Depression due to isolation and loneliness. This makes the whole “Someday My Prince Will Come” thing much more believable, because Snow White really isn’t in any sort of immediate danger and doesn’t need “saving” or whatever; she’s just tired of being alone and wants human companionship. (And tbh who can blame her? The poor girl’s literally talking to birds and moved in with the first group of humanoid creatures she could find ffs)

This one’s a bit of a stretch, but I’m pretty sure Snow White would also have an unhealthy fear of strangers and/or an irrational fear of being poisoned after the whole apple fiasco

Cinderella

Being raised in an abusive home environment for most (if not virtually all) of her life

The complete lack of positive social interaction throughout her life has probably led to problems with social withdrawal and isolation at some point, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she has repressed symptoms of chronic depression due to loneliness.

Her closest emotional confidants are literally two talking mice, and that just screams “My only friends are animals because their love is unconditional I’ve been invalidated and unloved by every human being in my life” (aka extreme emotional neglect)

She probably has tons of questions about her biological parents that were never answerd because, again, her stepfamily hated her, which would obviously lead to some emotional baggage

If we consider Cinderella III: A Twist in Time to be the new canon, she definitely has some unresolved PTSD from her near-death experience (the “almost getting crushed to death in the carriage because it was transforming back into a pumpkin” scene)

Aurora

Existential crisis because the three fairy godmothers basically rewrote her entire identity as “Rose” and hid the fact that she was a princess

Never knowing who her real parents were as a child, leading to emotional baggage similar to that of Cinderella and Snow White mentioned above

Either the emotional burden of having to make up for 16+ years of lost time with her biological family, or the grief of losing her biological family without ever getting the chance to know them (idk whether Aurora actually got to meet her parents by the end of the movie or if they died before she woke up, because I don’t remember exactly how much time had passed while she was in the coma)

Speaking of the spindle prick-induced magical coma (which is a really long-winded and inefficient way to kill someone honestly, idk what Melificent was thinking), Aurora also has to deal with the emotional burden of how much time has passed while she was in a coma, which would only further feed into the existential crisis and emotional trauma in bullet points 1 and 3.

(Also, off the record, but Aurora’s entire life post-movie is just a hot fucking mess and she really deserves a second movie exploring that concept imo. I know that Sleeping Beauty has already gotten a live-action villain spinoff, but the story of Aurora herself really deserves to be reexamined under a modern lens also. Aurora is easily one of the most overlooked Disney princesses and tbh she deserves more love.)

Belle (feat. the expanded lore from the live-action movie)

Witnessing her mother die from the plague in their own home

Being forceed to move from the more culturally progressive city of Paris to the unnamed “poor provential town” in the movie, where she is clearly the odd one out and is subject to gender inequality on a daily basis (in the form of being publically shamed and socially ostacized for being an educated woman)

Being regularly sexually harassed by Gaston, which is further exacerbated by the villagers and their close-mindedness. Not only is Gaston’s behavior enabled and encouraged by the villagers, but they even go so far as to idolize Gaston — as shown during his namesake song — despite his obviously predatory actions, simply because he is a cishet white man that they find conventionally attractive

Watching her father get arrested despite being 100% innocent...TWICE

Also being arrested when her father is wrongly convicted a second time, by none other than her abuser

Watching her lover — who besides her parents was the first person in her life who truly loved her and respected her intellect despite being a woman — nearly die in her arms, as well as everyone else in the castle (who ALSO respected her regardless of her gender) nearly die at the same exact time.

...And you know, Stockholm Syndrome or whatever. (But tbh, given how everyone in the castle was very kind and respectful and how the Beast was a tsundere at best, Belle would probably suffer far more from PTSD brought upon by Gaston and her previous environment than from “Stockholm Syndrome” in a castle where everyone actually treated her like a normal fucking human being. Unpopular opinion I know but as a sexual assault survivor this is literally a hill I will die on.)

Jasmine

I’ve actually never watched Aladdin all the way through, so unfortunately I can’t give a full analysis of Jasmine’s conflicts...but I have seen that gif of her saying “I am not a prize to be won” and that just screams “I’ve suffered a lifetime of female objectification and gender inequality despite my social status, and not even in the highest position of authority possible am I allowed to have a voice” and idk about you but that is really fucked up man

Ariel

PTSD from being manipulated by Ursula to give up her voice and nearly losing everything (both her previous life in the ocean and the promise of a new life on land with her love interest) because of it

Near-death experience from *vague hand gesture to whatever the fuck that was at the end of the movie*

Inevitable depression from abandoning the only home she’s ever known (the ocean) and leaving her friends and family behind

She’ll probably also need some form of behavioral therapy to help her adjust to her new home on land, whose culture is still extremely foreign to her — and maybe even additional therapy for social anxiety, given how her first 3 days of human interaction were so mortifyingly embarrassing that she’ll probably be laying wide awake at 3 AM and thinking “oh my god I can’t believe I looked Eric’s parents dead in the eyes and brushed my hair with a dinner fork” for the next 10 years.

Tiana

PTSD from literally being turned into a frog

Overworking herself to the point of near burnout, and being unable to fully live out her prime adult years because of said burnout

Constantly dealing with shitty customers, bosses, and other white-collared people disrespecting her and treating her as subhuman because of her career choice, which is unfortunately a common shared experience among restaurant workers and those who work hourly wages

Since this movie takes place in the United States presumably before the 1960’s, it’s probably safe to assume that Tiana also probably had to deal with segregation, Jim Crow laws, and other forms of racism off-screen on a daily basis, which would obviously take a toll on her mental well-being and further exacerbate the issues mentioned in #3

Grief from losing her dad, which has likely been repressed due to her workaholic tendencies denying her the ability to properly take the time to mourn

I don’t even know what to categorize the whole witch doctor shenanigans as, I just know that she and Naveen are both going to need some SERIOUS therapy after going through all that shit

Rapunzel

Being raised in an emotionally abusive and controlling environment for her entire life

Being completely isolated for 18 years with no social interaction whatsoever with anyone except her own abuser

Existential/identity crisis from discovering that she’s actually a princess, that her “mom” was actually the one who kidnapped her as a baby and tried to cut her hair, and that everything she knew about herself and the world she lived in was essentially a lie to keep her obedient to Gothel

Near-death experience (the drowning scene)

Internalized fear and mistrust in strangers — and quite possibly in people in general — due to Gothel’s lifelong warnings that people in the outside world would only want to take advantage of her

Watching the woman who raised her MERCILESSLY STAB THE ONLY OTHER PERSON SHE EVER KNEW AND LOVED IN THE GODDAMN CHEST

Watching the woman who raised her LITERALLY CRUMBLE TO DUST IN FRONT OF HER VERY EYES

WATCHING FLYNN, THE ONLY OTHER PERSON SHE EVER KNEW AND LOVED BESIDES HER GODDAMN ABUSER, FUCKING DIE RIGHT IN FRONT OF HER before she miraculously healed him

Because Flynn’s revival was such an uncanny revival that not even Rapunzel knew how she did it, she obviously thought he was gone for good...and since Gothel was gone also, there must’ve been at least a split second before she healed Flynn where, for the first time in her entire life, she was completely and utterly alone. That alone deserves to be a bullet point because holy shit

I’m not even going to get into Tangled: the Series man this list is getting too long as it is

Elsa

Losing her parents at a young age

Abandonment and isolation issues (mostly self-inflicted due to her own fear of hurting others, see #3)

Internalized fear and self-doubt of her powers — and, by extension, fear and self-doubt in herself

Guilt from nearly plunging Arendelle into an eternal winter

Guilt from almost losing her sister (twice!) due to her own direct actions

(Coinciding with #3) Guilt from isolating herself from her sister to protect her, only to nearly get her killed by the very thing she was trying to protect her from

Anxiety. Just lots and lots of general anxiety.

(Omitting Frozen 2 for Elsa because I haven’t seen it yet and this list is getting too long)

Anna

Also losing her parents at a young age

Abandonment and isolation issues, but hers are moreso due to Elsa “shutting her out” as a kid and having no one else her age in the castle to interact with

Lack of socialization in general for much of her childhood, as well as any social anxieties/lack of social knowledge and etiquette/etc. that would come with it

Abusive relationship with Hans (I know it was only one day, but holy fuck that was a trainwreck. What Hans did to Anna is a literal breeding ground for PTSD and trauma)

Coming to terms with the fact that the trolls fucking erased her memories of Elsa having ice powers and that Elsa isolated herself to protect her (and not, you know, because she hated her or something)

Leftover guilt from holding a grudge against Elsa for most of her childhood for shutting her out, because NO ONE BOTHERED TO TELL HER THAT IT WAS FOR HER OWN GOOD and she never knew why

Basically Anna and Elsa both need joint therapy or family counseling or something because holy shit their parents did NOT handle this situation properly AT ALL

(Also omitting Frozen 2 for Anna because I haven’t seen it and this list is also getting too long)

Moana

Surprisingly, Moana’s movie was relatively tame — in fact, because her tribe returned to voyaging and she is now exploring the seas/following her passion, these events were arguably beneficial to Moana’s mental health rather than detrimental. The only emotional baggage I can really imagine Moana having post-movie is leftover grief from her grandma dying and maybe the stress of having to put up with Maui’s shit

[orionsangel86]

Hey Everyone,

As you have probably noticed, I have neglected this blog for a long time now. I haven’t been on any fandom related social media at all actually. But I figured since I am currently in a good mindset, I want to write a post just outlining some things which basically boils down to a goodbye letter to Supernatural fandom.

Long rambling post below the cut...

This year (and the last) has just taken it out of me in terms of general negativity online both in fandom and in the real world. At first I got tired of fandom (mostly because Twitter is a cesspool of policing and bullying) and then I got tired of everything else (the world sucks right now, and my mental health basically stopped me from being able to participate in any form of online activism – just because I’m not blogging about something, doesn’t mean I don’t support the cause ya know?). Earlier this year, right around the time of the UK lockdowns, I had surgery and a recovery period in which I spent a lot of time with family, and just reacquainted myself with the real world. I think perhaps the coronavirus pandemic made me realise that long before lockdown began I had already been isolating myself from my real life and diving further and further into an online black hole.

It was years in the making. Supernatural fandom preoccupied my thoughts for such a long period of time it got to the point where every moment of my non working time seemed to be spent either online scrolling my tumblr dash or twitter feed, or reading fanfic or doing something fandom related. I invested so much of myself into this show and fandom that I think I forgot who I was before I was a Supernatural fan completely.

After my wake up call in late 2019, which lead me to break free from an extremely nasty clique, I have tried to re-enter fandom on my own terms, as well as attempt to enjoy the source material and the fandom creations to ignite some new spark of love and interest in the show. Yet as much as I have tried, I have failed to do so.

I was thinking recently about someone I used to follow years ago before I ever created a blog. When I was still just lurking in the tumblr shadows and followed the likes of Mittens, Lizbob, and other meta writers of the period, there was a blogger whose name I can’t remember but she was the funniest blogger I had come across. But when the show killed off Charlie Bradbury, she quit. I had never even interacted with her, as I was barely getting my blog started at the time, but I’ll never forget a post she wrote about her feelings on the show. She had recently started watching something else (I think it was Sense8 but can’t recall entirely), and that this new show had given her everything she had never thought she could have from her fave before. She wrote about how her relationship with Supernatural had become abusive. That for years the writers of Supernatural continued to throw punches at fans like her – women, LGBTQ+ people, people of colour, and yet she continued to give it all her time and attention, brushing off the punches because she was so damn devoted to the characters. Then this new show had come along, and it was like she had seen the light. The killing of Charlie Bradbury was the last straw, and she dumped Supernatural’s ass and fled into the arms of her new love.

I hope she is doing fantastically today.

What she wrote has resonated with me for years. I was a fairly new Supernatural fan at the time, and therefore didn’t really understand what she meant. A TV show can’t be abusive. Can it?

Of course, we are speaking in metaphor here, and in no way are these metaphors meant to reduce or limit the truly serious situation of actual abusive relationships, but every now and then, when a new episode of Supernatural has left me feeling upset, disappointed, frustrated and grossly let down, in some cases affecting my mood for days at a time, and therefore my mental health. I have thought back to those words she wrote and quietly agreed with them in my head. Yes. This is a metaphorically abusive relationship.

When I discovered earlier this year that Castiel was most likely going to be killed off in some sort of bullshit self sacrifice before the end of the show, I was extremely distressed. When I found out that my favourite person of all time Misha Collins, supported this ending for Castiel, and may have even been the one who pushed for it, I was more than distressed, I felt betrayed by the person I cared about most. I’ll admit to you all now that in my weakest moments I have fantasized about standing in front of Misha and screaming at him exactly just what kind of affect his “ideal ending” for Castiel will have on his fanbase, on their mental health, and potentially their own safety. This fantasy has me guilt tripping him and doing everything in my power to make him feel utterly shit about the decision. I know what you are thinking – don’t blame Misha, the guy has his own problems and we all know he projects his own self esteem issues onto Cas – and yes, I know this, like I said its only a fantasy to get me through my darkest moments. I don’t hate Misha at all. But perhaps I do love him a little less nowadays than I did back at the height of my fandom life. That’s at least still a little bit more than my feelings for Jensen and Jared which now I can only describe as complete indifference.

I am admitting all of this now knowing full well it will ignite shock and anger among the more die hard fans of J2M, to explain why I need to just leave this fandom completely, or more accurately, why I have already left fandom.

Over the past 10 months of 2020, I have watched a lot of TV (there isn’t much else to do during a lockdown when you are on crutches with your foot in a cast!) and the one thought that occurred to me over and over again was “this show is so much better than Supernatural”.

I kept comparing everything I watched, from the quality of the scripts, the actors, the special effects, to the inclusiveness of the shows. Just so many beautiful and interesting stories that seem to understand their audience, and understand how to entertain and impress without resorting to cringe humour, outdated jokes, and prejudice, not to mention misogyny and queerbaiting – yup, I said it.

The thing is, I think these thoughts have been creeping over me slowly for longer than just this year, but I have been desperately batting them away the way Dean Winchester bats away his own gay thoughts. Unlike Dean though, eventually I couldn’t ignore them anymore. I cannot continue to carve out space in my own soul for this show, which incessantly beats me down regardless of my devotion. The creators, the network, the writers, and sometimes even the cast, have all shown that they don’t care about me as a fan. I’m not some gun toting dudebro living in middle America, so why should they give a damn about me? I’m clearly not their target audience, nor have I ever been.

I know many of you will vehemently deny my personal opinion of Supernatural now. That is absolutely fine. I am sorry to be admitting it, but I had to. I feel like once I finally write out these words, I have got it off my chest and can close and lock the door on Supernatural for good.

Without Supernatural, I am able to focus on my real life, I am able to find pleasure in other things, new things, interesting things, that bring me joy and joy alone – not disappointment and frustration. I found a new job this year, which has been a huge accomplishment as I was stagnating in my old one, and several new hobbies under my belt. I moved to a new flat, I have a lovely flatmate who has been a godsend throughout lockdown, and I have rekindled friendships that I was neglecting due to my Supernatural obsession.

All in all, I am finding post-Supernatural life far more rewarding and content than my life in fandom. It has taken me a while, but I am over the show. And whilst I will always hold a special place in my heart for Castiel, it will be as I know him in my own mind; as the wonderful, strong, powerful and determined angel with a soul, who loves so strongly, and who is worth so much more than his own creators give him credit for. He is up there with Aziraphale and Crowley, with The Doctor, and Buffy, as one of the greatest characters of all time.  

So the Supernatural writers and creators can take whatever ending they have decided upon, and shove it up their asses. I am sorry to say that Sam and Dean Winchester are also lost to me. Any love I had for them was destroyed by their later season depictions. Castiel alone is the only character worthy of that space in my heart now. If in time he longs for a companion, I will find one for him, but it won’t be the Dean Winchester of the canon show. Canon Dean hasn’t been deserving of Cas for a long time now.

Perhaps I am still a little bitter about the ending. Perhaps the finale won’t be the disaster I expect it to be, perhaps Dabb will somehow turn it all around last minute following whatever travesty Bucklemming have given us in 15x19. Either way, I won’t be watching.

So this is me saying goodbye to this blog, at least until I have decided what else to do with it. It certainly won’t be a Supernatural fandom blog anymore. It wasn’t all wasted though. I did get a wonderful friendship group out of this fandom, and I have certainly expanded my knowledge of film and television analysis, as well as having enjoyed a great many memes.

I guess in the end, my internal war with my inner bitter Cas girl finished with her winning, and writing this post. Once it is posted however, I will put her to sleep with thoughts of a happy Castiel, who has swapped his wings for a beating human heart, and is living on a beach somewhere beautiful, refurbishing an old Victorian house, and greeting his kindly elderly neighbours. There’s a gay bar on the main strip, and the bartender is quite a dish. Green eyes and light brown hair with a killer smile. Castiel thinks he looks familiar, like a memory from a past life, but they’ve definitely never met, because this man is kind.

Now that she is asleep, there is nothing left for me here. Goodbye everyone. Whether you manage to enjoy the finale or not, I truly hope you too, find your peace.

[imagine-loki]

Pride and Prejudice

TITLE: Pride and Prejudice CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 59 AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki was raised on Jotunheim as Laufey’s son after the war, but an agreement was then made that he would wed Odin’s daughter so Odin could secure the alliance of Jotunheim through the marriage. Loki, in turn, was raised to be king of Jotunheim, but how he views Asgard is far different from how Odin’s daughter is raised leading to a clash of cultures as well as uncertainty between the pair of betrothed youths.     RATING: Mature   NOTES/WARNINGS: Forced Marriage, not all fun and games. My first real step back into the Loki scene in over a year.

Tags - @skulliebythesea @asimovethroughthisworld @blackcherry26-blog @we-shadowhunter2901

Ella did not want her parents to leave Jotunheim. She loved having her family and friends from Asgard there with her. She used the opportunity to see as many from home as she could through their time on Jotunheim and to spend time with her friends as well as juggle being in court with Loki and also dealing with readying for the baby. 

Loki’s vision for their rooms was not vastly different from hers. The most notable thing she noticed was that he wanted to keep her and the baby as defended as possible by altering the location of the bed so that he was more positioned to defend them both if there was reason to. Knowing that it was something of a peace of mind for him, she merely agreed and assisted with her seidr to allow his request to occur. Satisfied, he seemed more settled leaving both soon-to-be parents more at ease with everything to come. 

Watching her parents ready to leave, she inhaled deeply and ensured that her emotions were not to the fore. Ever the perfect depiction of a royal, she remained stoic and unemotional. 

Thor joked and jested with both Aesir and Jotnar with whom he had grown close to, especially through their shared experience on the battlefield while her parents spoke mostly with other realm royalty. 

Odin ensured to find himself alone with Laufey for a few moments. 

“I would have thought you would want as little to do with me as possible now that such is no longer required.” The old Jotunn commented as Odin created a chair for himself to sit on beside the Frost Giant. 

“Long before we warred, we spoke as two young and often foolish kings. Time has changed many things but I hope one of them is not your ability to converse.”

Laufey sighed. “I ignored that trait for a time and it cost me greatly but I still have it.” He looked over the realm that could be seen from the balcony on which they were sat. below them, Loki was speaking with Grengro, one of the Nidavallir dwarves on a matter. “It is a trait I ensured he exceeded me on and to his credit, he has surpassed anything I ever achieved on the matter, even if he did almost cause destruction with ignoring it as I once did.”

“He is young. Sometimes in youth, we do stupid things. I am only relieved that his came with no cost of life...in the end.” Odin growled as he added the last part, recalling Ella’s ill state when he was called from Asgard due to her ailing health. “Now look at him, speaking to those not even you ventured speaking to.”

“High praise from you of all beings, Allfather.”

“I always said that he would be an able king. Never let that be forgotten. I questioned his suitability to Ella and that worry showed that it had credence when he nearly killed her but nonetheless, both of them persevered in the end, and now look at them. An able king. Jotunheim will know great prosperity once more.”

“And our grandson?” Laufey asked. “One of both of our lines, Norn’s who would have thought such possible after the onslaught of war?”

“Even with the ability of Allsight available to some, it is never truly possible to predict what is to come. Jotunheim and Asgard are bound by blood. In the years yet to come, my son will find himself a wife and with that, have his own heir and our realms shall be ruled by cousins, bound by blood and hopefully comradery with it. It will strengthen them, I would think, but only time will tell.”

“Your wife does not share your hope,” Laufey commented. “Through all of this visit, she has been apprehensive.”

“Look at it as she sees it. Your son almost killed our daughter with neglect, he cast aside our tradition of a Queen standing beside her husband on the throne. I understand that the tradition is different here but Frigga, Vanaheim is stricter than even Asgard on those sorts of protocols and thus far, none of Ella’s traditions seem to be included. I know this is nothing you can control with regards to your son, but see it as my wife does or try at the very least. It is a very peculiar manner in which to do things. Of course, she is apprehensive.”

“And you, Allfather?”

“My opinion on the matter holds little standing.”

“Yet you have one?”

“Opinions are peculiar things. We all have them, they are all indeed valid as they do not have to even be based in fact and truth yet as they are singular to ourselves and in our minds, they all hold credence yet at the same time, they hold none as they are not required for anyone else. I have one but it does not matter, good or bad.” Odin growled his response. 

“You may not say the words, Allfather but your eye and face do. You disapprove.”

“My daughter is nothing but an asset to your son. It would have been a simple acknowledgement to her standing to have given her some modicum of recognition.”

Laufey did not press the issue any further. He understood Odin’s thoughts even if he did not agree with the sentiment. The Jotnar and the Aesir were different in many aspects, this was simply one more. Ella’s title meant little. She was the mate of his son, his only one and the mother of the next king so her standing in that manner alone gave her significantly elevated status, giving her a title was not required, in his opinion. “You can control many things on many realms, Allfather but even this is beyond your or indeed my own intervention.”

“There is much yet written but some parts of it are more set in stone than we think.” He looked at Gungnir in his hand as he spoke. 

“I often fear what it means when you ramble in manners in which few others understand.” Laufey watched Odin carefully. “What is it that you are planning, Allfather? How does it pertain to my realm?”

“I plan nothing for Jotunheim, it is not my domain in which to do so without due cause and your son gives me none but change is indeed afoot here.” 

“How so?”

“That, it would seem, will be revealed to us all in the near future.”

Laufey knew he would not get a clear answer, so he said nothing more, hoping that whatever the Allfather had planned, it did not bode ill for Jotunheim.

*

“Ella?” She looked around at her mate. “I fear I need to tell you…”

“They’re leaving.”

Loki looked sadly at his mate. In the days that her close friends had been present, as well as her birth family, her mood was far more cheerful. Usually, her demeanour was a pleasant one, especially since everything was smoothed out between them but it paled in comparison to the mood that she had when her two realms were all but one. Seeing her face go from one of curious intrigue as to why her mate was calling her to one of heartbreak at realising what was to come, he knew she was suffering and felt sorry for her. “I am afraid so, yes.”

Swallowing harshly and with her nostrils flaring as not to allow herself to cry, Ella nodded and rose to her feet. “Very well.” Her voice was small and cracked with the sound of her sadness. “I guess we better go see them off then.” Using her seidr, she altered her clothing and went from a comfortable and loose-fitting dress to one more in keeping with her position. “Shall we?”

“I’m sorry.”

Loki’s apology caused Ella to frown. “Why?”

“Because this is hurting you in a small manner and I wish it did not.”

“Well, it is not your doing but thank you for the sentiment.”

She walked out of the room without saying anything more, Loki followed soon after. 

The Aesir were the last group to leave Jotunheim. Those not overly fond of the realm but felt obliged to be there for the coronation were the first to leave, soon after, Prince Nigel found himself very much rushing to return to Vanaheim and not long after that, all but the Aesir had departed the realm. 

Standing in front of her parents, having said goodbye to her friends, Ella forced herself to remain stoic, knowing that using a clone to bid farewell was not the right thing to do, even if she wished she could. 

“Do not fret, Mother.” Ella found herself rolling her eyes as Frigga looked at her worriedly. 

“I do not envisage seeing my daughter again before the labours of childbirth, do not tell me not to fret,” Frigga argued. “If you need a healer for anything, do not hesitate to have Heimdall inform us and one shall be here, is that understood?”

“Mother, women have birthed safely in caves, I think I can handle this.” Frigga’s worried face caused Ella to internally curse her mother’s lack of faith in her. “But of course, if there is an issue, I will be sure to call upon Eir. I have no plans to die in childbirth.”

“None tend to plan to do so, yet many have.” 

“Mother, I rather not consider such things. I will continue to speak to you in our usual manner through everything.” Ella found herself wishing that her mother would leave the matter to rest. 

“We shall. Until then.” Frigga curtsied to Ella who returned the gesture in kind. 

Thor simply gave a wave and shouted to demand he be told when his nephew was born, if only to begin bestowing gifts that were entirely unsuitable to him, such as weaponry. Ella soothed Loki’s worries by stating that Thor was merely jesting, though secretly, she suspected he was not entirely convinced herself that he was not. 

Then came Odin, who walked up to the pair and watched as they stood straight and waited for his parting words as they had done her mother’s.

Odin started by looking at Loki. “You have, thus far, kept your word to better tend to my daughter. Now, more than ever, you need to not only keep your previous promise to me but uphold it even more as she gives you a son. Give the same diligence you give to that to your realm also as its king.”

“I shall,” Loki swore. 

Odin nodded, satisfied that he meant it. He then looked at Ella. “And you, keep your…”

“Mouth shut and ears open.” She smiled. 

“You would have made a terrifying Queen. Perhaps it is for the best that you remain in the wings, listening, out of their line of sight so that you can better scheme.”

“I do not need such a title to be terrifying, Father.”

“No, you do not. You have held that accolade without such until now, but after today, I fear they will be even more worried as to your silence.”

Ella frowned at her father’s peculiar words. “I do not…” She was stunned into silence as Odin moved his hand forward, Gungnir in its grasp. For another moment, Ella stood in silent shock before her own hand went out slightly. “No.” She pulled her hand back. “Why?”

“I fear the inevitable has occurred. Gungnir no longer is faithful to me. She yearns for her new wielder, of which, I am not.”

“But I…”

“Take it.” 

Ella did as her father commanded and placed her hand on the staff. As soon as she did so, she felt a surge of energy flow through it to her. “It never did that before.”

“No but yet it does now.” Odin, whose hand was also on the staff felt the energy flow through it before relinquishing his hold on it. “I suspect there is a valid reason for such.”

“What…?”

“The staff is not even reacting to your seidr, I would think.”

Loki, who had been standing next to both of them in stunned silent until that point, looked at Odin with even more bewilderment at that statement. “Then who…?”

Ella looked at her stomach. “Him.”

“The…” Loki could not process what he was hearing. “Could a Jotnar…?”

“It requires a strong seidr wielder to control Gungnir. Ella can do so with ease. She never needed a way to focus her power, she does not need it to do her bidding, she is powerful even without it. But my Grandson, his seidr will not be as strong as hers, but with Gungnir, he will rule Jotunheim with more power than any king before him.”

Loki felt a surge of both pride and fear at such a thought. He thought of his son, the future of Jotunheim with enough power to defend the realm from almost any foe. “But what of Asgard? Surely you would want…?”

Odin chuckled. “Asgard is not without its defences. Also, Thor wields Mjolnir. Because he does so, he could never wish to command Gungnir. It would rot in the weapons vault after my ascension to Valhalla. But that is irrelevant. It has already decided. I am too old and weak to wield her fully now. Now it is time for it to go to its next wielder. Ella will use it until the boy is crowned, then he will become its wielder.” 

Odin’s words were clear to comprehend for all those present. Any who thought that Loki was to be a weak king were realising quickly that none before him would have been as strong and the one after would be stronger still. 

“I guess that this will assist in stopping his seidr from surging too greatly.” Ella quibbed before looking at her father worriedly. “But it has been aiding you, what will you do?”

“Grow old, weak and feeble like every man before me,” Odin commented. “As is the way of life. I have no intentions of living forever. My time is coming to an end. I am not gone yet but I think it is obvious, I need to accept my mortality, something I ignored for too long.” He nodded to himself. “Now, rule this realm as it deserves to be. I await the news of my grandson’s arrival and for the love of the Norns, don’t give him some foolish Midgardian-esque name.” Odin ordered as he walked back towards Frigga who was looking at her husband worriedly, wondering how he would do without Gungnir to lean against when he was weak. 

“Why would we choose a Midgardian?” Ella scoffed. 

“Because beings these days love using names from places they are not from, misspelling and mispronouncing them and not knowing their meaning, Migardians especially. At least know the meaning of the damn thing.” Odin growled as he spoke. 

Ella watched worriedly as he made his way slowing back to Frigga. With Gungnir’s power very much connected to hers, she used it to create a walking stick of sorts for her father who looked at it then at her with a small nod in thanks before going to the Bifrost site to be with his wife. “Goodbye.” Ella mouthed the words but no sound came out as her parents, family and friends were surrounded by roaring lights and a moment later, disappeared. 

When silence came to the realm again. Singed ice and ground melted into the shape of the Bifrost in front of her, Ella felt the gaze of all the Jotnar around her upon her and on Gungnir in her grasp. Without thinking, she toyed with it in her fingers in the exact manner her father was prone to doing. Looking at Loki, who seemed just as startled by events as she was, she simply looked back towards the Jotnar palace once more before walking towards it, feeling as though Gungnir being in her grasp was entirely foreign but also incredibly natural to her as she did so. 

[mellow-em]

Bedlam (Sam Drake)

CHAPTER 1: LEFT BEHIND

The life she had built in only a year had disintegrated, and she was set on her stubborn mindset of finding her purpose away from Jackson.

I DO NOT OWN ANY TLOU OR UNCHARTED CHARACTERS! ALL RIGHTS GO TO NAUGHTY DOG!

(This is a tlou x uncharted crossover. It’s set in tlou universe, but its a fic between an oc of mine, and Sam! I’m not sure how this is gonna turn out so please bear with me)

Prologue

_________________________________

-ABOUT 3/4 YEARS LATER-

Nevada, U.S.

_________________________________

The green inferno of the forest surrounding me was almost suffocating at this point, not to mention my lungs burning from the treacherous run I had to commit to in the boiling temperatures of Nevada not even a few moments ago.  

This trip was supposed to be a simple one to retrieve food, scope out the area, and return to the base I developed overtime. Though, I guess it was my fault to even consider it a non-lengthy adventure, with the infected still coursing through the entirety of the world.

It almost felt like my backpack was weighing on my entire body as I lazily slid myself down against the base of a tree to sit myself onto the foliage. As my  momentary vitality wore away, my limbs weakened with every passing second.

Running aimlessly for your life was the only thing that annoyed the hell out of me, mainly because it happens so often now.

It was mainly caused by the wide ranges of infected that have been circulating this area for weeks, all while trapping me within their circulation as I ventured further into the forest.

Since then, there had been little to no escape from their confinement in the middle of the woods. I would need to break for it sooner or later.

While I knew it was a huge risk, I couldn’t also risk dying from famine or another natural circumstance. Joel had always told me it was ridiculous of me to perceive death as a triumphant experience that needed to be commemorated and memorable.

But to me, if I died from a natural cause, I would feel as though it could be added to the list of wasted opportunities for something all the more grand.

The mind fog slowly engulfing me was blown away by a branch cracking not too far from where I was sitting.

My ears, along with my attention, perked up by the sudden noise.

Shit.

My hand slowly glided across the side of my hip, reaching for what I pray could be a good defense. I felt the slightest bit of relief when I grazed the handle of my switchblade.

The wooden handle was carved smoothly to encase the sharpened metal end; it was something beautifully valuable to me, as it was one of the things that I had left that reminded me of Jackson, and of my surrogate family.

The family I left behind.

There was another small detonation of what now sounded to be leaves crunched on the dirt. Whomever or whatever it was, it wasn’t moving quickly.

My mind first created the image of a clicker, though its grotesque voice wasn’t echoing throughout the trees. My thoughts began to charge as I began contemplating my next move.

As the noises got closer towards the trunk I hid myself behind, my breathing became ragged and unsteady. Growing more frantic, I discarded the knife idea, and reached for my revolver that was wedged into its holster.

Slowly pulling the gun out, my hands gripped it with a force that turned my knuckles into flaming snow. The heartbeat I carried within me scorched in my throat, creating a lump I very much needed to swallow.

I gulped down the blockage harshly, reverberating a sound too loud considering the condition of my surroundings. I cursed myself out in my head for it, knowing I’d have to turn the safety of the gun off not too long after.

I hoped intelligence of what was traveling closer to me was slim to none, mainly because anyone with an average IQ could probably recognise the sounds and cause a scene.

I suck in a cavernous breath, only to release it with a shaken state packaged alongside.

I close my eyes, and prepare for the worst, before raising from my stance on the ground.

My gun was firmly held in front of me, as if it were a barrier from all evil. I only took the time to stare at the culprit of the echoing commotions for a second, before pressing my fingers down on the trigger. 

A low pitched grunt reverberated through my ears, along with the blare of a gunshot. The figure jerked slightly from it’s position while doing so, creating a brief stumble. 

As I lowered the gun from it’s stern position in my hands, an overwhelming wave of tension froze my body in place. 

My thin eyebrows retracted from being furrowed from anger to worry, as did the slight wrinkles present on my features from years of age and affliction. 

The menace responsible for my frightened, yet threatening state wasn’t any form of the fungal infested beings that surrounded this forest.

It was a man.

His back was slightly turned, though I was able to take in a few of his features. His hair was a lighter brown, with the sun brightening its shade by a ton. It was fairly short, though it looked as though it had been neglected.

He held a navy blue long sleeve on his back, with dirt particles, along with sweat coating it altogether. It was fairly warm where we were, so it was apparent that he either wasn’t from here, or he didn’t know how to properly succumb to the weather. 

My eyes then traveled down to his lower back. It was drenched in a hauntingly beautiful shade of crimson. I could clearly hear the rapid breaths fuming from his mouth, almost in the form of a wheeze too. God what have I done.

As soon as I finally had the strength to take a step towards him, his breath hitches. He whips around to face me, giving me an opportunity to take in his face.

I noticed his shrewd blue eyes that were almost a shade of sapphire. Though, I was able to pinpoint multiple blotches of green and lighter hues of turquoise.

Overall though, his eyes were glossed over with sheer pain along with an obvious smudge of exhaustion. 

He held a small amount of stubble along the lines of his sharp jawline and chin. But again, it looked to be just as unkempt as the rest of him. He was a mess of course. But, courtesy of me, he was an even bigger disaster. 

 His face continued to contort in pain, much to my guilt and dismay. The unknown state of his physical trauma unnerved me to no end; I needed to look at the damage I’ve caused for myself. 

“Lift your shirt,” I simply croaked, with me then earning a look of defiance with a hint of panic.

“Why should I-”

“Christ do you wanna die out here?,” I questioned rhetorically, which surprisingly shut him up swiftly.

I knelt down towards the covered wound, though a strong tear was visible on his shirt. 

“Fuck, it shot straight through.” I mumbled to myself, with a string of curse words following after. 

I inspected the shredded fabric for a little longer before remembering the constraint that potential death was forcing him to endure. The pads of my fingertips grazed the shirt gently.

His eyes travel to my hands, watching my fingers place themselves on the hem of his shirt to lift it. 

My eyes widened slightly as I notice his shirt was snug on the wound, most likely making it impossible to lift it without more pain than normal. 

And with that action, a wave of anxiety visibly washes over him, “what is it?”

“Your shirt is stuck to it-.. this is gonna hurt”

“It’s okay I've had wors- oh crap,” his voice crumbled as he hissed the words out, his speech faltering due the pain. 

“Sorry- shit” I stop for a moment to gently life the shirt from the bloodstained skin of his lower abdomen before continuing to raise it any further. Once the shirt was detached from clinging to him, my fingers hoist the shirt upwards delicately, as the man still continues to wince in distress.

The whole mess on his stomach was the scene of a bloodbath; revealing the reason for the floods of ichor that canceled out the tones of his tanned skin.

It was something that definitely can create a burden, or even a grim fate for the poor bastard. A gaping hole surged through his abdomen, with blood now circling the gash.

“Holy fuck,” I breathed out. I rushed to turn away from his injury, with my gag reflex threatening me with my inspections continuing.

He was losing a lot of blood, and at this rate his injury would become infectious if nothing is done quickly. Or he could die right in front of me, and I couldn’t let my carelessness with a gun jeopardize someones life. 

I’m such a fucking idiot.

I let my backpack fall off my shoulders and onto the ground behind me, giving off minimal sound.

A few strands of short hair fell from behind my ears, eventually sticking to my face that happened to be drenched in sweat.

I unzipped my bag, and with no hesitation, I dove my hands in to reach for what I hoped would be exactly what I was looking for.

I felt around the entirety of the pack’s interior, with that sliver of hope deteriorating each time I touched an item. After a few moments of searching through, I could hear the man stumble slightly behind me.

As if on cue, I felt a roll of soft fabric brush the surface of my fingers, and I released a sigh of pure relief. I pull the roll of firm gauze from its original place in my bag, and turn to face the now whimpering man.

I could see tears threatening to form in his eyes as I looked at him, and my lips flatlined; he was in so much pain but he still attempted to hide it. 

His skin was getting to be dangerously pale, with his warm complexion draining with his blood.

I stand from the ground, carefully placing my free hand onto his broad shoulder. He jumped suddenly as I did so, but visibly relaxed as much as he could after a few moments.

“I need you to try and sit on this.” I bob my head towards the direction of a larger rock protruding from the ground beneath. It was covered in mud along with various patches of carpet-like moss, but it would have to do.

He hesitates, pushing me away from him slightly, “I’m gonna be fine I don’t need you to-”

“Not to be rude but shut the fuck up and sit, please” I gave him a pleading stare, hoping he would stop being so damn stubborn.

After taking the deepest of inhales to secure his oxygen, he maneuvers himself to sit on the rock. He remained stiff, still choking on his own projectile yelps of anguish, but he managed to get himself down onto the rock. 

“I’m gonna wrap this around you, alright?” I lean back down onto the ground, closer to his wounded midriff, with the medical wrapping clenched within both of my palms.

The man exchanged a look between my hands that held the gauze, and the expression draped across my face. He looked even more unsure of me now than when he glanced at me the first time after me shooting him, but in all honesty I wasn’t going to judge.

I continued to let him contemplate whether to bail or remain in my care for now, as frustrating as it was getting. I wasn’t usually the type of person to let my impatience tower over my empathy unless necessary, even though I had snapped at him once already.

It wasn’t until I heard the gruesome sounds of the undead not too far from us, that I didn’t wait for a single ounce of approval. No matter what, I wasn’t going to let him die in my sights if I have this chance to save him in front of me.

As I begin to hastily wrap the bandage around his injury, he unintentionally cries out in pain, unknowingly triggering the numbers of infected surrounding the forest.

Their moans of displeasure and sickening thirst for the suffering such as us grew closer, and I began to panic for the crippled human before me.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

“What is it-,” his confusion snapped into worry as soon as a whale of a runner erupts towards the east, “Oh crap.”

“They must've heard the commotion,” I muttered under my breath.

Once I finally wrap the injury to my satisfaction, I bring the roll to my mouth and tear the wrapping away from the roll itself as quickly as I could. While holding the gauze protection in place, I turn around to face my backpack once more.

With another minute passing by, the intense roars of clickers catches my attention now. My rapid breathing began to shake my body, and wrestle with my stomach. I needed to move much faster.

I drop the gauze from my hands in, and replace it with a roll of duct tape. With my mouth, I rip off a large strand of the structured adhesive, placing it over the bandage to hold it in place.

I unravel his now crinkled shirt, covering the work I had just done with one swift motion.

“We have to go. NOW.” I gesture for him to get up with urgency, in which he does so with minimal grace; stumbling slightly with a pained expression drenched on his entire being.

I grab my backpack, and throw it over my shoulders before allowing his arm to swing over my shoulders for support.

I did my best to solely sustain my focus on him as he got situated, annihilating the thoughts of dying in the hands of the infected.

“Get ready to haul ass, come on!”

He grunted in response as I began to trudge through the woodland forest with him fitted at my side.

This ominous feeling of anxiousness while pleading to save another created a sense of deja vu. I’ve been in this situation before, but with someone I once knew. Joel.

History was beginning to replicate, leaving my mind clouded with the thought of each event running its course fully with new people.

I let out an exasperated sigh, annoyed with my unfortunate timing for such conceptions. I needed to focus, not reminisce.

Another groan from behind me resulted in a complete snap back into reality.

While carrying the man’s force, heaves of air continued enter and escape his lips as he began to stumble on his feet slightly. The feeling of his weight was growing heavier, as he became much weaker.

“Shit, stay with me. We got this.” my attempts at reassurance did not prevail however, with his hyperventilation slowly progressing into drawn out sighs.

My grip onto his shoulder tightened, producing a sharpened soreness within my arm. My hold on him was overwhelming my strength, testing my limits as I pulled for him to move more quickly.

Wavering uncertainty of whether or not either of us were going to make it to my base camp alive, sat in the lap of my head. 

There wasn’t anything I could do about it until this heart-racing moment in time subsided; which seemed to not be ending soon enough.

No matter how much effort I put in, getting him to travel at a faster pace was absolutely no use.

He continued to fall in and out of his rush. I knew the swarm was inches from us at this point.

My blood ran cold as I felt a tug on my flesh. I swatted my arm away from the offender, succeeding as I place my arm at my side again. The pain electrified my system.

I felt the frigid sense of my own blood as it drew lines of red down my arm.

I didn’t bother to show any signs of torment, however; my face remained expressionless to keep the man attached to me from dismay.

While looking into the distance, I could see base camp in all its glory; a small, wooden dwelling that looked to be abandoned for years upon years.

To the naked eye, it wasn’t visible. A barricade held its own, as it was tall enough to keep unwanted guests away from the premises. It did its job well.

I look over to the man that unintentionally put his life in my hands. His eyelids were practically shut at this point.

He looked lifeless as he tripped over his own feet, trying to pry himself awake every few seconds.

The words ‘he's gonna die’ circled my brain, shoving me into a further state of panic. 

I shook my head to pin those inquiries to the back of my mind, however, knowing that we just needed to keep pushing. 

“Not much further now.” I mumble.

My heart was racing. My energy was running out, and so was his. But I couldn’t let either of us collapse. My urge for constant heroics weren’t going to fail me now.

An image of Ellie came into my mind.

Her youthful being appeared in the form of a mental photograph.

It felt idiotic, and possibly regrettable, but I needed to save this man, knowing the promise I made to her, and myself.

Find answers. Save who I can.

We were only a few feet from the gates now. We had gained some form of speed to rush ahead of the army of the infected, but I have no idea how.

Pure luck was gonna be my answer to that.

I rearranged our position so that he was now leaning against the barricade walls, as I rushed to open the gates.

“Okay come on big guy.”

He moaned back, reassuring me that he wasn’t quite dead yet. He returned to his place with his arm wrapped around my shoulders, as my other arm was around his.

It wasn’t long before I closed the gates, leaving the both of us alone within the partitions of my own property.  

All while the diseased few left in defeat, scouring within the depths of the forest to ignite another hunt for prey.

[wolfpawn]

Pride and Prejudice, Chapter 59

Story Summary - Based on an idea I had that I submitted to Imagine Loki. Imagine Loki was raised on Jotunheim as Laufey’s son after the war, but an agreement was then made that he would wed Odin’s daughter so Odin could secure the alliance of Jotunheim through the marriage. Loki, in turn, was raised to be king of Jotunheim, but how he views Asgard is far different from how Odin’s daughter is raised leading to a clash of cultures as well as uncertainty between the pair of betrothed youths.

Chapter Summary - The Aesir prepare to leave with Odin leaving a little bombshell on Jotunheim with his departure.

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Ella did not want her parents to leave Jotunheim. She loved having her family and friends from Asgard there with her. She used the opportunity to see as many from home as she could through their time on Jotunheim and to spend time with her friends as well as juggle being in court with Loki and also dealing with readying for the baby. 

Loki’s vision for their rooms was not vastly different from hers. The most notable thing she noticed was that he wanted to keep her and the baby as defended as possible by altering the location of the bed so that he was more positioned to defend them both if there was reason to. Knowing that it was something of a peace of mind for him, she merely agreed and assisted with her seidr to allow his request to occur. Satisfied, he seemed more settled leaving both soon-to-be parents more at ease with everything to come. 

Watching her parents ready to leave, she inhaled deeply and ensured that her emotions were not to the fore. Ever the perfect depiction of a royal, she remained stoic and unemotional. 

Thor joked and jested with both Aesir and Jotnar with whom he had grown close to, especially through their shared experience on the battlefield while her parents spoke mostly with other realm royalty. 

Odin ensured to find himself alone with Laufey for a few moments. 

“I would have thought you would want as little to do with me as possible now that such is no longer required.” The old Jotunn commented as Odin created a chair for himself to sit on beside the Frost Giant. 

“Long before we warred, we spoke as two young and often foolish kings. Time has changed many things but I hope one of them is not your ability to converse.”

Laufey sighed. “I ignored that trait for a time and it cost me greatly but I still have it.” He looked over the realm that could be seen from the balcony on which they were sat. below them, Loki was speaking with Grengro, one of the Nidavallir dwarves on a matter. “It is a trait I ensured he exceeded me on and to his credit, he has surpassed anything I ever achieved on the matter, even if he did almost cause destruction with ignoring it as I once did.”

“He is young. Sometimes in youth, we do stupid things. I am only relieved that his came with no cost of life...in the end.” Odin growled as he added the last part, recalling Ella’s ill state when he was called from Asgard due to her ailing health. “Now look at him, speaking to those not even you ventured speaking to.”

“High praise from you of all beings, Allfather.”

“I always said that he would be an able king. Never let that be forgotten. I questioned his suitability to Ella and that worry showed that it had credence when he nearly killed her but nonetheless, both of them persevered in the end, and now look at them. An able king. Jotunheim will know great prosperity once more.”

“And our grandson?” Laufey asked. “One of both of our lines, Norn’s who would have thought such possible after the onslaught of war?”

“Even with the ability of Allsight available to some, it is never truly possible to predict what is to come. Jotunheim and Asgard are bound by blood. In the years yet to come, my son will find himself a wife and with that, have his own heir and our realms shall be ruled by cousins, bound by blood and hopefully comradery with it. It will strengthen them, I would think, but only time will tell.”

“Your wife does not share your hope,” Laufey commented. “Through all of this visit, she has been apprehensive.”

“Look at it as she sees it. Your son almost killed our daughter with neglect, he cast aside our tradition of a Queen standing beside her husband on the throne. I understand that the tradition is different here but Frigga, Vanaheim is stricter than even Asgard on those sorts of protocols and thus far, none of Ella’s traditions seem to be included. I know this is nothing you can control with regards to your son, but see it as my wife does or try at the very least. It is a very peculiar manner in which to do things. Of course, she is apprehensive.”

“And you, Allfather?”

“My opinion on the matter holds little standing.”

“Yet you have one?”

“Opinions are peculiar things. We all have them, they are all indeed valid as they do not have to even be based in fact and truth yet as they are singular to ourselves and in our minds, they all hold credence yet at the same time, they hold none as they are not required for anyone else. I have one but it does not matter, good or bad.” Odin growled his response. 

“You may not say the words, Allfather but your eye and face do. You disapprove.”

“My daughter is nothing but an asset to your son. It would have been a simple acknowledgement to her standing to have given her some modicum of recognition.”

Laufey did not press the issue any further. He understood Odin’s thoughts even if he did not agree with the sentiment. The Jotnar and the Aesir were different in many aspects, this was simply one more. Ella’s title meant little. She was the mate of his son, his only one and the mother of the next king so her standing in that manner alone gave her significantly elevated status, giving her a title was not required, in his opinion. “You can control many things on many realms, Allfather but even this is beyond your or indeed my own intervention.”

“There is much yet written but some parts of it are more set in stone than we think.” He looked at Gungnir in his hand as he spoke. 

“I often fear what it means when you ramble in manners in which few others understand.” Laufey watched Odin carefully. “What is it that you are planning, Allfather? How does it pertain to my realm?”

“I plan nothing for Jotunheim, it is not my domain in which to do so without due cause and your son gives me none but change is indeed afoot here.” 

“How so?”

“That, it would seem, will be revealed to us all in the near future.”

Laufey knew he would not get a clear answer, so he said nothing more, hoping that whatever the Allfather had planned, it did not bode ill for Jotunheim.

*

“Ella?” She looked around at her mate. “I fear I need to tell you…”

“They’re leaving.”

Loki looked sadly at his mate. In the days that her close friends had been present, as well as her birth family, her mood was far more cheerful. Usually, her demeanour was a pleasant one, especially since everything was smoothed out between them but it paled in comparison to the mood that she had when her two realms were all but one. Seeing her face go from one of curious intrigue as to why her mate was calling her to one of heartbreak at realising what was to come, he knew she was suffering and felt sorry for her. “I am afraid so, yes.”

Swallowing harshly and with her nostrils flaring as not to allow herself to cry, Ella nodded and rose to her feet. “Very well.” Her voice was small and cracked with the sound of her sadness. “I guess we better go see them off then.” Using her seidr, she altered her clothing and went from a comfortable and loose-fitting dress to one more in keeping with her position. “Shall we?”

“I’m sorry.”

Loki’s apology caused Ella to frown. “Why?”

“Because this is hurting you in a small manner and I wish it did not.”

“Well, it is not your doing but thank you for the sentiment.”

She walked out of the room without saying anything more, Loki followed soon after. 

The Aesir were the last group to leave Jotunheim. Those not overly fond of the realm but felt obliged to be there for the coronation were the first to leave, soon after, Prince Nigel found himself very much rushing to return to Vanaheim and not long after that, all but the Aesir had departed the realm. 

Standing in front of her parents, having said goodbye to her friends, Ella forced herself to remain stoic, knowing that using a clone to bid farewell was not the right thing to do, even if she wished she could. 

“Do not fret, Mother.” Ella found herself rolling her eyes as Frigga looked at her worriedly. 

“I do not envisage seeing my daughter again before the labours of childbirth, do not tell me not to fret,” Frigga argued. “If you need a healer for anything, do not hesitate to have Heimdall inform us and one shall be here, is that understood?”

“Mother, women have birthed safely in caves, I think I can handle this.” Frigga’s worried face caused Ella to internally curse her mother’s lack of faith in her. “But of course, if there is an issue, I will be sure to call upon Eir. I have no plans to die in childbirth.”

“None tend to plan to do so, yet many have.” 

“Mother, I rather not consider such things. I will continue to speak to you in our usual manner through everything.” Ella found herself wishing that her mother would leave the matter to rest. 

“We shall. Until then.” Frigga curtsied to Ella who returned the gesture in kind. 

Thor simply gave a wave and shouted to demand he be told when his nephew was born, if only to begin bestowing gifts that were entirely unsuitable to him, such as weaponry. Ella soothed Loki’s worries by stating that Thor was merely jesting, though secretly, she suspected he was not entirely convinced herself that he was not. 

Then came Odin, who walked up to the pair and watched as they stood straight and waited for his parting words as they had done her mother’s.

Odin started by looking at Loki. “You have, thus far, kept your word to better tend to my daughter. Now, more than ever, you need to not only keep your previous promise to me but uphold it even more as she gives you a son. Give the same diligence you give to that to your realm also as its king.”

“I shall,” Loki swore. 

Odin nodded, satisfied that he meant it. He then looked at Ella. “And you, keep your…”

“Mouth shut and ears open.” She smiled. 

“You would have made a terrifying Queen. Perhaps it is for the best that you remain in the wings, listening, out of their line of sight so that you can better scheme.”

“I do not need such a title to be terrifying, Father.”

“No, you do not. You have held that accolade without such until now, but after today, I fear they will be even more worried as to your silence.”

Ella frowned at her father’s peculiar words. “I do not…” She was stunned into silence as Odin moved his hand forward, Gungnir in its grasp. For another moment, Ella stood in silent shock before her own hand went out slightly. “No.” She pulled her hand back. “Why?”

“I fear the inevitable has occurred. Gungnir no longer is faithful to me. She yearns for her new wielder, of which, I am not.”

“But I…”

“Take it.” 

Ella did as her father commanded and placed her hand on the staff. As soon as she did so, she felt a surge of energy flow through it to her. “It never did that before.”

“No but yet it does now.” Odin, whose hand was also on the staff felt the energy flow through it before relinquishing his hold on it. “I suspect there is a valid reason for such.”

“What…?”

“The staff is not even reacting to your seidr, I would think.”

Loki, who had been standing next to both of them in stunned silent until that point, looked at Odin with even more bewilderment at that statement. “Then who…?”

Ella looked at her stomach. “Him.”

“The…” Loki could not process what he was hearing. “Could a Jotnar…?”

“It requires a strong seidr wielder to control Gungnir. Ella can do so with ease. She never needed a way to focus her power, she does not need it to do her bidding, she is powerful even without it. But my Grandson, his seidr will not be as strong as hers, but with Gungnir, he will rule Jotunheim with more power than any king before him.”

Loki felt a surge of both pride and fear at such a thought. He thought of his son, the future of Jotunheim with enough power to defend the realm from almost any foe. “But what of Asgard? Surely you would want…?”

Odin chuckled. “Asgard is not without its defences. Also, Thor wields Mjolnir. Because he does so, he could never wish to command Gungnir. It would rot in the weapons vault after my ascension to Valhalla. But that is irrelevant. It has already decided. I am too old and weak to wield her fully now. Now it is time for it to go to its next wielder. Ella will use it until the boy is crowned, then he will become its wielder.” 

Odin’s words were clear to comprehend for all those present. Any who thought that Loki was to be a weak king were realising quickly that none before him would have been as strong and the one after would be stronger still. 

“I guess that this will assist in stopping his seidr from surging too greatly.” Ella quibbed before looking at her father worriedly. “But it has been aiding you, what will you do?”

“Grow old, weak and feeble like every man before me,” Odin commented. “As is the way of life. I have no intentions of living forever. My time is coming to an end. I am not gone yet but I think it is obvious, I need to accept my mortality, something I ignored for too long.” He nodded to himself. “Now, rule this realm as it deserves to be. I await the news of my grandson’s arrival and for the love of the Norns, don’t give him some foolish Midgardian-esque name.” Odin ordered as he walked back towards Frigga who was looking at her husband worriedly, wondering how he would do without Gungnir to lean against when he was weak. 

“Why would we choose a Midgardian?” Ella scoffed. 

“Because beings these days love using names from places they are not from, misspelling and mispronouncing them and not knowing their meaning, Migardians especially. At least know the meaning of the damn thing.” Odin growled as he spoke. 

Ella watched worriedly as he made his way slowing back to Frigga. With Gungnir’s power very much connected to hers, she used it to create a walking stick of sorts for her father who looked at it then at her with a small nod in thanks before going to the Bifrost site to be with his wife. “Goodbye.” Ella mouthed the words but no sound came out as her parents, family and friends were surrounded by roaring lights and a moment later, disappeared. 

When silence came to the realm again. Singed ice and ground melted into the shape of the Bifrost in front of her, Ella felt the gaze of all the Jotnar around her upon her and on Gungnir in her grasp. Without thinking, she toyed with it in her fingers in the exact manner her father was prone to doing. Looking at Loki, who seemed just as startled by events as she was, she simply looked back towards the Jotnar palace once more before walking towards it, feeling as though Gungnir being in her grasp was entirely foreign but also incredibly natural to her as she did so. 

[haikyuulovercompany]

Eek! I’m so excited for request to be open!! Can make a request for Iwaizumi? In which, the reader and Iwaizumi have a kid together, but they’re not together anymore. And so, they don’t get along very well. But in secrecy, the reader actually still harbors feelings for Iwaizumi, and their child snitches on her to their dad. When the topic comes up at the dinner table, the reader is forced to admit the truth. Iwaizumi’s kinda shocked and weirded out, but also kinda wants to date her again.

This took me longer than expected to write, but I hope you enjoy it!! I kind of changed the idea of the narrative BUT here it is (: ENJOYY !!! 

PAIRING: IWAIZUMI HAJIME X FEM! READER. 

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One of the biggest reasons people avoided to dive into marriage, was the possibility of divorce. However, the vast majority of society bet it wouldn’t be their case. Iwaizumi had been one of those foolish enough to believe his relationship would never suffer such demise. He loved _____ so intensely it sometimes seemed to be endless. He could stare at the horizon their relationship was, as it extended as the sea did. He couldn’t tell where it stopped. But he was young and lacked experienced. Love would be enough, he had thought back then, and he had been very wrong. Love was the first stone for a solid marriage. The rest was a convoluted series of virtues and vices both had to work out and simultaneously make the decision to pull through.

They had failed at the task. They had fallen into the jaws of the routine until their relationship grew up stagnant. It hadn’t been an easy decision. After almost a decade together—from college where they met all the way to their early thirties—and a five-year-old boy they both loved beyond their physicality. Iwaizumi would sometimes spend hours staring at his son. He wondered what he could be dreaming about, he wondered about his own abilities as a father, especially when his marriage had failed.

It had been for the better. They were becoming strangers who could only snap at the other if they weren’t ignoring each other. How could the perfect relationship that had drove him into ecstasy so easily had become deadweight on his shoulders?

At first, he didn’t know. He was both relieved and saddened when he arrived at his flat. It was only him. No kiss from his wife or shouts of hoy from his son. He treated his divorce with the same fashion he would treat a regular break up. That’s how little he actually knew. You couldn’t simply get over the mother of your child, over the woman you surely swore was your companion for your short eternity on earth. That was his first lesson.

The second was the loss of communication with ______. He had thought the feelings they had felt for each other had died through their day to day life, and there wasn’t anything left to do. The reality was that love didn’t simply die. They had neglected each other. They had forgotten to talk, to have small and big details to help the other get through their issues—work it together. The had become two independent beings instead of working like a team. He had many regrets—many things he would do different.

It didn’t matter much anyway. It was too late. He was entering his second year as a divorced man and his five-year-old was now seven and the three of them had fallen into their new dynamic. They had adapted. Iwaizumi got out of his car and walked to the entrance of the building. He rang two times. “Hi, who’s there?” a very childish voice spoke. Iwaizumi smiled.

“A monster.”

Tiny giggled were heard. “Hi, dad! I’ll let you in!”

The buzzer went off and Iwaizumi entered the building. _____ had moved after their divorce. She had rented a different apartment not too far from their original home, or at least what have been their first home as a family. He had stayed a little longer in their old flat. He had due to their contract and it had been a slow torture. Two months later he was free and he rented his own flat. He had liked somewhere closer his son but that year wasn’t his year by any means.

He knocked on the now familiar door 401.

The door was thrown open abruptly, making a big slamming noise against the wall. “Eiichi!” ______ screamed, her quick steps coming fast from down the hall. She came to a halt and the air left her mouth when she was met with Iwaizumi laid back postured with his eyes planted in her. She seemed to stunned Iwaizumi couldn’t help arching an eyebrow. “Are you okay, _____?” He was always careful when saying her name, as if it was forbidden to him to say it. This was another heartbreaking sign of how radically everything could change between two persons.

“I am. Sorry. I forgot today was your day,” she admitted. “Let me go get Eiichi’s bag ready. Come in, if you want.”

She was gone before Iwaizumi could say anything else. He nodded to himself and closed the door. Eiichi was soon all over him, telling him about his latest adventure. He was barely five years old. He was discovering the world. Everything was whimsical and mysterious to him, and as a father, it was an endearing process to watch. He wished he could be there on a daily basis to see every step of the way. He would be surprised of the strong nostalgia he was undergoing, but with the second anniversary of his divorce so closed, he was bound to feel like that.

______ came back with a red backpack and handed it to Iwaizumi, offering a fleeting smile. “There’s everything he will need for tonight.”

“Okay. I’ll bring him back tomorrow afternoon.”

“Sure.” Silence invaded the room and Iwaizumi knew it was his queue to leave. He got up with the red backpack hanging from his shoulder and gave ______ one last glance before walking out the apartment together with Eiichi, who continued rambling with his clumsy words and ill-formed sentences.

Iwaizumi carried his son and securing him into the backseat and after checking it twice, he went to the front seat and left. The nostalgia eventually dissipated. His son took over his attention and he had no time to travel down memory lane about the life he used to have. The days he spent with Eiichi were the ones he cherished the most, but they were also the most exhausting. He had been warned about the shot of energy children got around the age Eiichi was, and they had not been wrong. After a whole day at the park, running and climbing around, he had finally given Eiichi a bath, put on his pajamas and settled him in the small dinner table adjacent to his living room. The television was playing from across the room. The cartoon was hypnotizing the little boy, who sometimes forgot to chew and left his mouth hung open watching it. Iwaizumi had to give small nudges to Eiichi for him to continue eating.

A divorce could be vicious and Iwaizumi had heard horror stories about it. Not to say his had gone smoothly, but it had been more about the grudges he and _____held against each other, the issues they had kept unspoken and had led to the failure of their marriage. There hadn’t been cheating or someone new in the picture. It was just them and poor communication. They had put those differences aside and concurred to share custody because at least both agreed Eiichi didn’t have to pay for mistakes that weren’t his. Therefore, Iwaizumi had rented a flat with an extra room for Eiichi. It wasn’t a simple guest room, it was decorated accordingly to his age. It was for him and no one else.

Iwaizumi pulled out the bedsheet and signaled Eiichi with his head. “Come on. Get in.”

He did as told and climbed the bed until he was sitting down, his legs hanging from the edge. Iwaizumi knelt, taking off the pair of slippers ______ had included for Eiichi to use. “Are you and mom getting back together?” he suddenly asked, taking his father aback.

“Why do you ask?”

“I checked mom’s drawer and she has a picture of the two of you.”Iwaizumi’s curiosity sparked up. “What drawer?”

“In her room. She sometimes takes it out but then it’s inside the drawer again. That’s why I checked. She doesn’t know I checked.”

He smiled apologetically to him. “Well, there’s no plan for that happening. I’m sorry, bud.”

Eiichi looked down, swinging his legs a couple times before getting inside the covers. “It’s okay.”

Iwaizumi kissed his forehead. The hint of sadness in Eiichi’s face broke him to the core. The more he grew, the more he discovered and rationalized the circumstances around him, and life didn’t go easy on anybody and it pained Iwaizumi to know there were going to be many situations where he wouldn’t be able to protect Eiichi. He tugged the covers a little bit higher and turned the lights off. He left the door slightly ajar and stood still on the spot. He had never seen a picture of _____ and him in her apartment. He had been there a lot, he would’ve noticed his face. He pondered on the piece of information Eiichi had thrown out of pure curiosity. Could it be that ______ wasn’t entirely over them? Could she still think about him? Perhaps and she wondered as much as him what could’ve happened if they had tried a little bit more, a little bit harder.

Iwaizumi tried to go to sleep, too, but it was around two in the morning, after endless runarounds in his head he was able to fall asleep. The last thing in his mind was his wife, and even after, she appeared in his dreams.

….

He woke up to his son opening the door and climbing into his bed. Eiichi poked him on the cheek a couple times. “Dad, I’m hungry.”

Iwaizumi groaned and then yawned. “I’m coming.” Eiichi jumped two times and then off of the bed. “Careful,” he oredered, his voice still raspy, but Eiichi was already running down the hallway.

Thankfully, he had remembered to get frozen waffles. He warmed up a pair in the toaster for Eiichi and another pair for him. He cut a slice of butter for each waffle and took both plates to the living room. Breakfast was quiet with Eiichi again hypnotized by some cartoon. This gave time Iwaizumi to spend more time with his thoughts. He couldn’t stop going over as of why ______ still had a picture of them in her nightstand, and why was she hiding it? She didn’t have it for Eiichi, if that was the case she would let him have it. She wasn’t even showing the picture to him.

Maybe… just Maybe…

He decided to take Eiichi earlier back to his mother. He wouldn’t be able to shake off his doubts and he had never been a man to shy away. If their relationship had spiraled down, they could pick it back up. They had been fantastic together once, and if he was honest with himself, he missed his life with them. He missed seeing Eiichi daily, not missing a bit of his life. And he missed ______. He missed her as his wife, as his partner.

He pulled on her street half past six—a couple hours before he had to. Eiichi didn’t question. He had no idea at what time he was supposed to arrive, either way. However, ______ was surprised to see him there so early. Eiichi ran past her and disappeared inside the flat. “You’re early. Is something wrong?” she asked bewildered.

“No, I just wanted to see if we can chat.”

“Uhm, okay.” She stepped aside, letting him come inside and walking to the living room. Iwaizumi sat on a different couch than _____. He wasn’t going to push his luck. He went over his question. It was easy and straightforward. However, he couldn’t help feeling like he was twenty again, walking across the room and making some small talk to her and see if he had a chance. He was nervous and unsure if it was the right thing to do.

“So, what is it?” she asked when faced with his silence.

Iwaizumi liked his upper lip as his fingers intertwined on his lip. “Why do you have a picture of us in your drawer?” She sat straight, blinking fast. Her mouth opened and closed, hesitating on emitting any sound. He had taken her aback entirely. “Eiichi told me about,” he clarified, making it impossible for her to lie or avoid the answer.

She looked around huffing. “Well, we were married, Hajime. We were together for too long. Not all of us get over things that easily,” she explained, avoiding looking directly at him.  

Iwaizumi felt it like a direct shot at him. “Who said I got over it easy? I think about my life here with you and Eiichi all the time. I missed my life in here.”

“Hajime…”

“I’m being honest. Sometimes I just wish I could still be here.”

“If you want to see Eiichi more, you know you can.”

“I’m not only talking about him. I miss us. I think we could have fixed it if we had really tried.”

“We were tired of each other,” she said in a whisper, which told Iwaizumi she wasn’t rock solid on that position. It was the reason why their relationship had ended. That had been the catch phrase of their divorce.

“Maybe we could have used a break but I think divorcing was too extreme.”

“What are you trying to get to?”

“If you aren’t over us, I would actually like to try it again. We could make it work.”

“We can’t just jump right where we left things.”

“No, of course not. We’ll take it slow. I think it’s worth it.”

She held his gaze with hers. She wasn’t agreeing with him, but she wasn’t rejecting him either. He didn’t dare to blink. He wanted to seem confident with his proposal so she could give in.

“What if it doesn’t work again?” she asked.

“Then we go back to… this,” he declared rather calmly. He couldn’t ignore that option existed. Still, he wanted to believe the time they spent apart and the maturity they had gained in those two years was enough to make it right.

She nodded and stood up. “Are you staying for dinner, then?”

Iwaizumi smiled wide, standing up as well. “If there isn’t a problem, I am.”

She grinned shyly and turned away before he could see her. “Let me set another place on the table.”

“I’ll help you,” he offered, and then followed her into the kitchen Needless to say, he was thrilled. The door for a second chance had been opened to him.

[diyunho]

The Joker X Reader - “What Death Tastes Like” Part 2

Scarecrow’s daughter might be only 22, yet the terminal lung cancer she was diagnosed with six months ago didn’t discriminate against her age; the young woman didn’t show worrisome symptoms until it was too late. Y/N always had a fascination for the much older King of Gotham and despite the consequences, maybe it’s finally time to do something about it.

Part 1         Part 3        Part 4      Part 5

“That was very nice,” you whisper in The Joker’s ear. “I know you’re not sleeping,” you sigh and force yourself to get out of his bed after watching TV together for almost 3 hours. “I’m going, OK?” you whisper, not sure why he’s ignoring you. But you have a clue: he probably just wanted to avoid a huge fight with Emma or your father finding out about his cruel words regarding your illness. “Fine, whatever…” you admonish and exit the premises, upset he’s behaving like that since he offered truce a few hours ago. The King of Gotham is actually completely out, even if you believe otherwise.

It was awesome having him carry you in his arms and not protest when you kissed him; you have to admit you were disappointed he didn’t initiate anything once you ended up in his bed; you really thought he would. J let you snuggle to him and you hoped for more to happen, yet his lack of interest made you realize it was stupid to try and hint you wanted him. What is a 40-ish old man supposed to do with a 22 years old woman that playfully keeps flirting with him? In this case, obviously just enjoy a couple of movies which proved he doesn’t take into consideration your dumb crush.

The more you analyze this night, the more you’re inclined to vote for the exact opposite of what you did: you should have kept your mouth shut and refrain sharing intimate matters with him.

I guess sometimes genius truly skips a generation …

*************

3 Weeks Later

You didn’t come to the mansion in the last 3 weeks: when J woke up the next morning after your visit, you were gone. Emma informed him you waited for her to catch up and then went home; he wondered if you left because of what happened or if there was no reason for it at all. One thing’s for certain though: The Joker got the slight impression you evade him, especially since two days ago you dropped Emma off then raced out of the property in a hurry when you noticed he was coming out of the house. The skid marks on the pavement were a pretty clear sign you didn’t want to linger at the place you normally enjoyed hanging out at.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t mean you can escape The Clown Prince of Crime forever.

“OK,” Emma gives you a soft nudge in the restaurant owned by her parent. “You gotta help me out,” she pleads to a skeptical Y/N. “I insisted we have lunch here for a good reason: my dad brought his wacko-on-and-off-girlfriend and I can’t stand her; I need backup. Please flirt with him and say that stuff you usually say!” she giggles. “You have my blessing to go crazy, I swear you won’t hear a peep out of me! It will be hilarious to see her reaction!” she pushes you and it’s too late to escape the unwanted rendezvous you had no clue about until now.

You are already at the table and didn’t have a moment to take in your best friend’s proposal: you wish you had a warning about this plan of hers but Emma impulsiveness and surprise element runs in the family.

Maybe she thought you would love such a funny challenge…

Yeah… not really...

You know Mara anyway and bumping into her alongside J is not enjoyable to say the least, mainly due to the odd atmosphere you hope his daughter won’t notice.

“Hi daddy,” Emma pulls her chair and you take a seat by her muttering a faint hello.

“Hey kid!... … Miss Crane,” he sneers and you intensely stare at the menu in front of you without blinking.  

“I didn’t see you in forever,” Mara addresses you and you indifferently glare at her. “I must say you look terrific: you are glowing! What’s your secret?” she snickers and you duly inform:

“I’m dying. I’m sure you remember I have terminal cancer; my dad makes my meds and they do help somewhat, thus the glow.”

“As long as you’re not contagious,” the woman underlines and Emma gasps at her affirmation.

You smirk and reach over to touch her forearm, softly digging your nails in her skin.

“I am and now that I touched you, you’ll die too!”

You get up from the table while hearing The Joker saying something but your ears are ringing so you can’t discern a word.

“How can you say stuff like this?!” Emma reprimands and you calmly take a small ampule from your pocket, open it and pour some dust in the palm of your hand.

“I was just expressing a concern,” Mara gesticulates and you bend over, blowing the fine ashes in her face.

“What the fuck?!” she quickly brushes the ticklish powder off her cheeks, worried at your action. “What is this?!”

“Nightmare,” you scoff. “One of my father’s top products. I recently assisted him make it stronger and there’s no antidote. Don’t worry though, it won’t kill you and it will wear off in a few hours. Plus, it’s not contagious. Enjoy!” you leave the gathering and Emma follows, enraged things didn’t go as planned yet she can’t blame Y/N.

Since the restaurant is closed to the public due to his owner’s presence, there’s not a soul around besides J that can hear Mara’s terrified screams once the wicked hallucinogen kicks in: it’s called Nightmare for a good reason!

*************

6:02PM

“Knock, knock,” The Joker enters Scarecrow’s lab, already in a foul mood.

“Not a step further!” his movement gets halted. “Sterilize yourself if you want in: I’m making more capsules for Y/N,” Crane points at the numerous ingredients on the counter.

“Your lab is huge, if I stay right here…” J tries to convince Jonathan although he’s aware he has zero chances: it never succeeds but his stubbornness prompts him to fight the request each time.

“No!” your father firmly rejects the proposal. “Sterilize yourself and come help me!”

“Where’s your daughter?” The King of Gotham starts washing his hands in the sink by the glass sliding doors.

“She went to stay at the cabin. I got lectured,” your dad huffs, scolding in the next second: “You’re not done! More!” he commands and J reprises the cleaning process required by his very obliging host.

“Ugh,” he mumbles and continues. “Why did you get lectured?”

“Apparently, I buried myself in this place and she hates it. I also got threatened that if I don’t stop trying to find a remedy for her incurable disease, she’ll quit taking the current medications. I received orders to call Evelyn and beg for reconciliation also,” Scarecrow briefs a gratified King of Gotham:

“I guess we both have someone in our lives we can’t neglect,” The Joker dries his hands, puts on latex gloves and snatches an immaculate lab coat from the hanger nearby.

“What am I to do?...” Crane whispers. “Let my daughter die without trying to save her?...” then immediately snaps out of it. “Hair net!!!!” he shouts at The Joker, annoyed he’s trying to skip it.

“For God’s sake,” J complaints … still does as required. “What’s in for me in exchange for my services?”

“What do you want?”

“Two vials of your new, improved Nightmare formula. I witnessed it at work today and let me tell you, that stuff’s amazing!”

“How did you witnessed it at work?! It’s not released on the black market yet,” Jonathan carefully measures the quantities for your medicine.

“Oh, funny you should mention,” the evident sarcasm makes your father pay attention. “Y/N used it on Mara earlier today and she totally lost her mind! I had to lock her up in the pantry at the restaurant with three of my men guarding the door! She went bonkers!!!”

“Sorry,” Scarecrow’s flat tone irritates J. “I guess either you or Mara did something Y/N didn’t like. Welcome to my daughter’s shit list,” he cordially emphasizes.

“You shouldn’t talk to me like this,” The Joker fixes his green locks under the hair net. “One of these days I might become your son-in-law, you know Y/N showers me with her undivided affection.”

“Over my dead body!” Jonathan shrieks and The Clown Prince of Crime seems delighted.

“Hmmm… I can arrange that.”

“Just shut up and help me, would you? What am I paying you for?! Y/N needs more capsules; she’s almost out. Can you tell Emma to take this to her? I’m gonna let her chill, she’s still mad at me.”

“Wimp, you’re afraid to confront her,” J rolls his eyes and Scarecrow is not the one to be intimidated by his guest’s nonsense:

“Says the man that freaked out and searched the town for hours thinking his daughter run away when in fact she was asleep behind the rose bushes in the backyard at their mansion.”

“I didn’t freak out!” The Joker sulks at the unwelcomed reminder.

“Of course you didn’t,” Jonathan serenely replies. “Now fill out the capsules with the amount I already weighted and don’t mess up! I’ll verify your performance.”

“Give it a rest!” J growls. “Emma left for New York; she’ll be there for a couple of days. I’ll take this to Y/N.”

“Don’t think so,” he gets cut off. “I’ll send one of my couriers.”

“I’ll do it for free.”

“Why?”

“I have a score to settle,” J confesses to Scarecrow’s dismay. 

“If you hassle my daughter, I’ll create a plague designed only for your genes and I’ll exterminate you from this planet!”

“Imagine this is not the first time I’m threatened with a pathogen manufactured to ensure my demise,” The Joker hints even if he doesn’t have to.

“She is my daughter,” Crane explains, entirely understanding the reference. “The branch doesn't fall far from the tree; she knows I would so you’d better watch it!”

“Then you have nothing to worry about, right?” the pushy menace concentrates on his task, adamant in finding a way to see you no matter what.

**************

8:31pm

The Joker drives on the narrow path leading to the cabin, stirring left when a car coming from the opposite direction hunks at him.

“Heeeeyyyyy, Mister Joker!!!!!” someone yells and the other SUV accelerates past J’s yet he has enough time to recognize the aggravating pest: Sam aka Bane’s son. A few unpleasant phrases are grumbled regarding the encounter when another detail sets off the pissed King:

Y/N is racing towards the cabin after recognizing her best friend’s dad vehicle; you came out to say goodbye to Sam and take a walk when your idea abruptly changed.

“Are you kidding me??!!” J grinds his teeth while watching you stumble in the grass, then energetically gather yourself up and sprint inside, slamming the door behind.

“Wow!” he exclaims while parking close to the stairs, unsure on how this day will evolve; so far it goddamned sucked.

“Miss Crane,” The Joker taps at the heavy oak door. “Open up, I have your med!”

Maybe if you don’t engage he’ll leave.

“Is this how you thank me for delivering your pills?!” he gets worked up, thumping intensifying.

“Leave the package on the porch and go away!”

“Oh, she speaks!!!” J instantly snaps. “Open up, it’s cold out here!”

“No it’s not,” you call him out on his bullshit.

“You owe me apologies for what you did to Mara!” he demands, cringing at your defiance.

“Ha! When hell freezes!!!”

“What was Bane’s son doing here?” he tries a different strategy, definitely losing patience.

“None of your business!”

“I brought dinner,” J adds because that’s the last ace in his sleeve. “From the restaurant… your favorite. Aren’t you hungry?”

Does the silence mean you’re giving in?...

“Did you bring strawberry crepes too?”

“Yeah,” The Joker lies since he naturally forgot about desert.

The door faintly creeks and you unlock it, finally letting him in; you’re hesitant about your judgement and snatch the two paper bags out of his hands: the small one contains capsules, the big one harbors foam containers with the foods you like.

“Where are the crepes?” you frown at the lack of the delicious treat.

“I have this suspicion you’ve been avoiding me,” J talks about the reason he’s there without answering your question.

“I’m not…”

“Then why don’t you come to the mansion anymore, hm?”

His gaze circles the living room, involuntarily noticing the blood stained tissues in the trash can by the couch.

“Did you have another episode?” The Joker inquires. “Should I call your dad?”

“No…I’m fine…”

“Are you sure?” he insists and you unwrap the plastic utensils, sniffing.

“It’s not a big deal, it happens more and more often… I wish Emma was here,” you wipe your teary eyes and J bestows his infinite wisdom upon the young woman.

“Well, my daughter’s not here and I’m not renowned for making people feel better,” he twists the cap of the bottled water near him. He takes a sip then gives the container to the confused Y/N. “I’m not sure if this will help, but you can touch something my lips touched.”

You smile at his offer, kind of happy he’s using one of your catchy lines.

“What’s this? Reversed flirting?” you pout and drink from the bottle, placing it on the table afterwards.

He doesn’t bother to respond besides apathetically mentioning:

“I’ll spend the night; it’s dark outside and I don’t want to end up in a ditch.”

“It’s summertime, still sunny,” you highlight the indisputable truth to a guy that couldn’t care less.

“I’m tired. Crane pressured me to work! Did you know he took advantage of my kindness and made me sink a couple of hours in his project? What project you ask?” J cracks his neck although you weren’t curious. “I helped made your treatment,” he blurs out and your blank attitude irks The Clown. “You can compensate me by letting me crash here for the night.”

“I’m 100% sure my dad already compensated your efforts,” Y/N utters.

“Why was Sam here?” the earlier question is reprised in order to distract you.

“Are you jealous?” you nibble on your lasagna and J snarls:

“Why would I be jealous?”

“Then why do you have to know?”

“Professional interest,” the vague disclosure scores absolutely no credits with the feisty Y/N.

“That’s a huuuge load of baloney,” you shake your head and decide to unravel the mystery. “He picked up an item for his father. Don’t worry, you’re still my favorite,” you tease and The Joker protests.

“I’m not worried! I don’t even care! Can I sleep here?” he switches the topic and has to boast: “We can party all night long like we did last time!” J sassily reveals; he believes you’ll mock yet it’s not the case.

“You’re very late to this party…” your voice dies out and The King of Gotham is aware what you’re referring to. He digs his fork in the fresh salad, reassuring on a whim:

“Better late than never…”

 Also read: MASTERLIST

[willowaudreykeyes]

Oh fuck you didnt finish them yet.. then Janus or Thomas?

XD I’m about to start writing Roman’s soon, then Remus’ should be quick to follow. But I’ll happily share Janus’ backstory. I’ll uh... just copy and paste what I have in google docs😅

Be careful though please. His backstory involves child neglect and child abuse so only read if you can. Don’t force yourself.

Janus’ father left him and his mother three days after he was born; and an hour after the doctor said that his scales and one snake-like eye wouldn’t disappear.

All shapeshifters have some physical animal trait, such as fur or a tail, but Janus’ seemed to grow to more than any other shapeshifters has before. He’s met others with scales, but theirs were in a small patch or two. Janus’ scales covered the left side of his face, neck, down the left part of his torso and arm, and ended just before they reached his toes.

His mother made him hide his scales at every chance. She was used to being surrounded by others and gossip, so she had to bring him to weekend meetups. He was told to socialise, which he promptly ignored so that he could go write short stories in a corner. His mother’s friends often commented on his actions.

Eventually she made excuses to her friends to leave him behind, to both of their joy.

Her friends would still talk about him though, as he often got into fights with other children and they’d question her parenting.

She tried to make him ‘perfect’ so that she could have something to brag about. Forced him to read and do math several years above his grade. Taught him as much science, magick history and history as she could. Made him join a self-defence course. 

She often lied to the school and the government, saying that he was doing all of this unprompted and that she did two jobs to support him. The government gave her money for her ‘prodigy’ child. 

He was a top student, but his mother never praised him and it led to him becoming depressed. He continued to lash out at others and often lied about assignments to prolong them in order to have a few hours of peace. Eventually he began skipping classes and he shapeshifted into his mother to get out of more schooling.

Even started lying to his mother to make her happy and leave him alone. He still preferred writing short, often fictional stories but she called them a waste of time. A stack of books filled with these stories were hidden beneath the floorboards.

Janus was ten when she found out about his lying habit. She found the loose wood panel in his room and waited for him to get home from school before burning all of his books in front of him.

She was hysterical; saying that no matter what she did to ‘fix’ him, he was still a freak and it made her an outcast. He didn’t know how to reply. He went to wipe the tears off the scaled side of his face a moment before she grabbed him.

She rolled up his left pant leg, grabbed a fire-proof oven mitt and held his leg in the burning pile of books. He struggled until he managed to grab one of the books and threw it in her face, causing her to let him go.

He ran on pure adrenaline. He ran until he passed out by a road. He remembers waking once or twice to hearing other children and a woman before suddenly waking up in a huge bed.

One of the Princes had found him along the road while looking for bugs. He got his twin and mother from nearby, then stayed with Janus until he woke up.

The King and Queen heard his story and sent people out to find his mother. Two days later, she was found three towns away, murdered in an alleyway.

Janus wasn’t too upset when he heard as he never loved his mother, due to how she treated him. He was more afraid of being in an orphanage.

But as he recovered from his burns, he and Prince Remus became close friends. And at least friendly with Prince Roman as Janus was too tired and sore to try and scare them off like other kids.

Even after telling the King and Queen that he was a liar, that he was sarcastic, that he was useless because of his newly formed limp; they offered that he stayed as Remus and Roman’s advisor. They knew about his ‘prodigy’-like intelligence and said that he’d do fine.

Four years later, Janus and Remus were inseparable and he helped Roman out of tons of problems he had put himself into. Like the time he filled his bedroom filled with frogs after reading “The Princess And The Frog”.

He continued to learn for his own sake, and for the twins’ sake. He found that it was a better goal than to please someone who didn’t care about him when the Royal Family often showed their appreciation to even the smallest of acts.

He had been learning how to fight by himself until he convinced the Head Guard and a nearby talented thief to teach him. He became both the Princes Advisor, and their personal Guard.

He found out that the Royal Chef was planning on killing the King by gaining one of the maids favours (he had helped her find where her long-lost daughter was and got some info on the entire staff in return). 

He even managed to get a hold of rare plants and ingredients for Remus’ crazy ideas and the Royal Healers. He never told anyone how, but everyone quickly learns that he somehow talks and lies his way to get what he wants. The King finds this a good thing; as it’s often to protect the Twins.

When the King and Queen said that the Twins were going to go to King Cygnus Aurelian’s School of Magick; he was glad as their current teacher was a ditz in his opinion. 

Janus also disliked that Roman had begun to turn more pompous and less heroic and hoped that putting him with the ‘common folk’ would be good for him.

He was surprised when Remus settled in quickly; while he wasn’t surprised that Roman often complained about his lack of attention every day.

He one day watched an emo kid punch Roman in the face. He went to go sort it all out, but stopped as Roman began to say everything on his mind. He watched from afar as they looked after him.

When Roman began to change for the better, he immediately went digging into the kids’ backgrounds and quickly learnt that he was screwed. With all of their family backgrounds in mind, he made friends with them and told himself that he would help protect all of them.

Virgil asked if he would die for him or any of the others. Janus replied with “No. My gloves would get dirty” and immediately regretted it after he was thrown out of a window by a formless shadow. 

After he defended himself against a mad/sad/very emotional Virgil, and after Patton calmed him down, he quietly told him that he was often known to be a liar. After a moment, Virgil understood and they… mostly made up. Their occasional fights afterwards were never even close to as violent.

So yeah! That’s his backstory. Just ask if anything isn’t completely clear as I left out the more world-building stuff and just stuck to the backstory.

[niksfiks]

Gotta Get It Right: Chapter 7

PAIRING: Loki/OFC

RATING: Mature

NOTES/WARNINGS: Trigger warning: mentions of dubcon, violence, PTSD, sexual assault, and physical abuse in later chapters.

Also on Ao3

Feedback is always appreciated (just being an attention whore screaming for comments/reblogs). Taglist is open

Tagging @fandom-and-feminism @fadingcoast @igotloki @mrshiddleston-uk @mischievousbellerina

A/N: Soooo....I have not only missed a week, but I can’t keep track of what day it is. Better late than never, right?

Chapter 7: Shall We Dance?

Only when the guards leading the parade to the throne slowed did Aleksa turn her focus to the man descending the dais.

Loki.  

He was shorter than she’d imagined. She knew he stood just over six feet tall, a good eight inches above her, but the massive horned helmet resting on his head added at least another foot of clearance while making him appear shorter, if not slightly ridiculous. The cloak around his shoulders didn’t help. It seemed to have been designed for someone else, dwarfing his thin frame. Asgardians have a fetish for bizarre apparel, she thought, though the research team would have assured her that it was all symbolic. It only made her distaste for monarchies worse.

Loki strode to the equipment stack as the guards stopped, dropping to one knee. He looked over the gear before turning to see the human military members still standing.

“Have you no respect for your superiors?” Condescension dripped from his voice.

“We don’t cower before our leaders, your Highness.” Aleksa noticed a flick of his fingers before their guards were suddenly upon her, forcing her to her knees.

Loki walked towards the group, studying each of them. He found them unremarkable, except for their leader. He was struck by the range of colors in the woman’s fearless eyes. She was attractive, even for a human, but he sensed something different about her, lurking just below the surface. With his curiosity peaked, the sadistic smile appeared.

“In the end, you will always kneel,” he whispered.

Aleksa suppressed a shiver. The man definitely had the charisma to be a god, and the ego to boot.

“Why are you here?”

“Cultural and anthropological archaeology. These researchers were trying to better understand the worlds around Earth and the races that inhabit them.”

“By sneaking onto Asgard and gathering intelligence about the strength of my armies?”

“The camp’s proximity to a training facility had no bearing on the work these people were doing...”

“But you know where they are,” he snapped. “You intended to launch a quiet strike against us. Why else would *you* be here?”

Aleksa shook off her guards and stood, eliciting gasps from the court members around them as she forced Loki back. “*I* am here to ensure that these innocent people are safely returned to their families by any means necessary.”

Loki stepped closer to her.

“Are you threatening me?”

“Not at all,” she responded. He was surprised at the calm in her voice. “We have no quarrel with you or Asgard.”

“Then why send a military outfit to lead these so-called innocents home?”

“Would you not send warriors to a potentially hostile world to recover civilians?”

“*I* would not allow unarmed civilians to enter a potentially hostile situation.” Loki stared at her for a moment, again caught up in her eyes, watching the slightest shift in their color. As he fought his body’s reaction to her scent, he wondered if he'd touched a nerve.

Aleksa found herself examining his face, noting that the gold helmet was reflected in the emerald green eyes boring into her. The harder he tried to intimidate her with his posture, the more she could see something hiding behind the malice. Something she recognized within herself.

“With all due respect, your Highness, what are your intentions with us?”

“I’m taking your research and adding it to the vast collection of our own. Outside of that, there is nothing you have that interests me.”

“Then you will release us?”

Loki shook his head. “Hmm, no. You were caught committing acts of treason against Asgard. The punishment is death.” He waved them off, striding back to the dais.

“Based on what charges?”

“The slaughter of two of my Einherjar. Take them.”

“How in the hells is that...” Aleksa struggled against the guards now holding her. Loki ignored her and the cries of the people behind her. She fought off one of the guards before being tackled by two others that pinned her to the ground. Out of options, she screamed.

“I challenge your claim to the throne of Asgard!”

Loki whirled around, laughing. “You what?”

“You heard me.” The guards holding her down released her, scrambling to get out of Loki’s way. Before she could even blink, Loki was in front of her, fuming. “Your claim to the throne is unjust. You are, at best, a regent in Thor’s absence. I challenge the legitimacy of your absolute rule!”

“How dare you! I am Loki, son of Odin, king of Asgard as named by...”

“You are Loki, son of Laufey, adopted by Odin.” The gasps of everyone gathered in the hall didn’t go unnoticed. Somewhere in the crowd, D’Varst allowed himself a small smile. “And as long Odin’s firstborn still lives, you have no authority.”

Loki’s rage filled the room.

“Neither do you, Midgardian.”

“Any soul of the Nine Realms may make a claim against the king of Asgard. That is your law.”

“Name your terms,” he sneered.

“My party are returned to Earth regardless, along with all of their materials, intact and unharmed.”

“And if I win?”

“You may do with me what you will.”

“There is no advantage to me in this.” He snorted, walking away as he continued. “You will die last, watching them suffer for what you have dared attempt.”

“Then you legitimize my claim against you.”

“How? When I win, I will do with them...”

“Me. You may do with ME what you will.” Loki began to scoff, then realized that he’d neglected to amend her terms. She’d outmaneuvered him into releasing his captives regardless of how their duel ended. And she’d done it in front of his court and half of Asgard. He wondered if she was valuable to him after all.

“Choose your weapons,” he growled.

“Daggers. No armor. And no tricks. The first illusion you cast, I win.”

“To the death, then?” Loki smirked when she nodded. “Too easy. You may have your challenge.”

Aleksa nodded and moved back to her group, shedding her flak vest and weapons belt. Reece approached her.

“Are you out of your mind? He’ll kill you before you even get close.”

“Probably.”

“You’re betting our lives on a promise from the god of deceit? You actually trust him?”

“Nope.” She smiled. “He’s arrogant, but not ignorant. Something tells me that he knows his seat on the throne is precarious. He won’t dare defy an agreement made in front of the entire court. Half of the people here are likely looking for a reason to get rid of him. He’s not stupid enough to give them one. Either way, I win and you go home. Get them off-world before the fight ends.” She took the daggers offered by one of the guards.

“Lex, I am not leaving you to die again.”

“Didn’t die the last time.” Aleksa met Reece’s fearful gaze. “Plan C. That’s an order, Captain. Tell Coulson we’re doing a full renegotiation of my contract when I get back.” She turned just in time to see Loki charging for her. She pushed Reece in one direction and dodged to the other, dropping into a roll. “GO!”

The group, led by Reece and Nessis, turned and hurried out of the hall, followed by two guards.

Loki watched the crowd close in around him before turning back to his opponent.

“I do hope you enjoy pain,” he grinned.

Aleksa lowered her stance. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. Shut up and fight.”

“As you wish.”

Loki charged again, spinning right just before he reached her. Aleksa saw the shift a second too late, yelping when his blade caught her bare arm. She swung around, blocking his next strike and delivering a blow of her own, her blade finding the soft flesh of his cheek. The fight continued in equal measure for some time, each combatant trading hits and drawing blood. He knocked her to the floor with a backhand swing, she landed a kick to his chest that sent him sliding into the crowd. Furious that he was unable to gain any headway in the fight, he grabbed her from behind, knocking the blades from her hands. He spun her to face him, wanting to watch the life drain from her eyes when he slit her throat.