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azullumi · 1 year

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tighnari — living together ☆彡

summary — Now that your days are spent together from each waking time to sleeping, how is everyday with him feels like?

pairing — tighnari/gender-neutral reader

tags — fluff, established relationship, just everydays with this lovely man; headcanons

word count — 1029

a/n — last minute birthday fic for tighnari TT

Morning

He usually wakes up earlier than you—waking up earlier than him is a rare event and if you happen to do so, he’ll wake up sooner or later since he’s a light sleeper— and starts his morning routine even before the sun has risen. Although it doesn’t mean that he’ll immediately get out of the bed because he spends a great deal of time admiring you while you sleep. Watching your chest rise up and down as you breathe and tucking strands of hair beneath your ear and if ever you’ll start talking as you sleep, he’ll be amused. It is then that he decides to get moving already.

He’ll have breakfast prepared and ready for you before he leaves and goes out to the forest to survey the area in case there are any forms of danger that appeared overnight or the ecosystem is still doing well. He ensures that he’ll leave a letter, stating that he’s gone out already, on the table with your meal so that you’re not worried about where he is.

If you’ll wake up at the same time as him though due to having some disturbances during your sleep, the two of you will start your routine together and cook breakfast. Your mornings are spent separately as he has to go out and you’ll have to stay in the house, tending to the home, looking after the garden the two of you built to check if Tighnari didn’t water it, and seeing if there is anything you have to do before you either go out to which you’ll be returning some time later which is usually at noon or stay inside.

Noon

He often returns before lunchtime to check up on you—in this situation, you didn’t get out of the bed at the same time as him— and if you’re still not awake at that time, he’ll wake you up, telling you that it’s late already after giving you a kiss on the forehead. If ever you have something to do for that day, he’ll remind you of it.

He makes sure that the two of you will have a meal at least once (and rarely, twice) a day and it could either be breakfast or dinner since most of the time, during noon, he has to be outside doing his tasks as a forest ranger, tending to some patients, or scolding a bunch of people who refused to listen to the warnings given to them when venturing out the vast Sumeru forests. He’ll have a meal packed with him to which he’ll eat while he is out and on his break.

The meal is cooked by either of the two of you, depending on who has the time and who can do it and if ever the two of you can’t, you’ll just have to settle with easily made food or just some fruits. Sometimes, you’ll spend your lunchtime eating alone because he can’t be with you and honestly, you don’t mind since his work as a forest ranger can be quite hectic and he always returns by evening anyways.

When you have nothing to do and you are allowed to, you’ll accompany him during his work, patrolling around the village and forests and watching him, occasionally lending him a hand so you don’t feel like just some sort of audience or some leaf floating in the background and also so you could lessen the amount of his workload. Besides, you’re learning quite a lot by just helping him so it’s nothing bad.

You witnessed him scolding a group of people once who landed themselves in some sort of trouble after doing some foolish antics and you could only think to yourself how scary he is and took note to not do anything stupid so that you’ll not witness his wrath.

Evening

Nighttime is always spent for the two of you, it is when the sun would set then would the two of you be at your home, having a meal together to which either one of you made while the other watches or you cooked together. At this time, he would ask what happened during your day and how it went and you would also ask the same. Dinner would last for a long time because of the stories and conversations shared. It just rids of all the worries and stress away.

It is during the night that you two could spend the whole time together without having any interruptions and thinking about your responsibilities at work. Just you and him, in the silent night, holding one another in each other’s arms while you lay in bed and try to sleep because the exhaustion got to you and you have to chase after the essential sleep.

Sometimes, when neither of you are not tired enough, the decision to go outside and take a night walk to admire the night skies or watch the fireflies would be made. Moments wherein he could sneak a glance at your face illuminated by the moon’s silver light making your features soft and gentle, moments spent in silence admiring the peaceful surroundings and the breathtaking sights, moments with just the two of you together against the dead of the night. It’s at these precious moments that you’ll be grateful for what you have.

Then you’ll be walking back to the home you two share, holding each other’s hand and even swinging it, while enjoying the cold night breeze against your skin, fluttering your hair against the wind.

Everyday with him feels like warmth and comforts in a cold morning with a cup of warm drink in your hand, love and freedom in a field of flowers while you run around and feeling the wind against your skin and the grass against your feet, gentleness and kindness in a caress of his hand against your cheek as he reads each line of your features until his eyes get sore. Everyday with him feels like kisses while watching the rising of the sun, laughter on a peaceful afternoon, and gentle touches, seeking the feeling of what the other's skin feels like, in the darkness of the night.

— navigation | masterlist

#tighnari headcanons #tighnari x reader #tighnari #genshin impact fanfics #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin fluff #genshin fanfic #genshin headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin x you #genshin impact fluff #tighnari x you #tighnari fluff #tighnari fanfic #genshin impact x you #azul.writes

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v4mpirezz · 4 months

Note

For the request can I please have yandere Tennant taking care of sick unwilling fem reader? You can choose either one shot or head canon (depending how you feel comfortable)

𝒜 𝒹𝒶𝓎 ℴ𝒻 𝓈𝒾𝒸𝓀𝓃ℯ𝓈𝓈

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇ .. Hello! I am deeply sorry for the rather long wait! Recently I’ve been a bit unmotivated I will admit, but I hope this is to your liking! I chose the opportunity to also show a much darker side of the relationship, I feel like I haven’t on my previous fics, (like show the mental impacts it has caused reader, ect) so this will be a bit angsty.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ! .. Yandere themes, mentions of mental breakdowns, being locked in a room, angsty

-`꒰ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀ sʜᴀᴍᴇ, ɪᴛ sᴇᴇᴍs ᴛᴏᴅᴀʏ ʏᴏᴜ’ᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢ ʀᴀᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴄᴋ ʟᴀᴛᴇʟʏ. ғᴇᴀʀ ɴᴏᴛ! ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ, ᴛᴇɴɴᴀɴᴛ; ɪs ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴄᴀʀᴇ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇғᴜsᴇ .ᐟ ꒱´-

“Sick, my lady?” You heard a voice speak all of the sudden. Looking up bedsides you was the woman who captured you just a few months ago; leaning against the door with a smile on her face.

It would be a complete lie if you said you didn’t want to wipe that stupid smile of hers off of her face, seeing her only made your blood boil as she slowly walked towards you, sitting on the edge of the bed right besides where you sat.

With a glare you spoke, “Get out, I don’t need you here! Why don’t you go back to what you were doing and fool other women and steal from their wallets’. It’s the only thing you seem to be good at doin—” a hand harshly took your face and made you lean closer to her own.

Her previous smile was all gone (Ah, it seems you did indeed wipe that smile off of her face after all teehee) and was replaced with a cold stare, it was a warning that you were on thin ice, proceed and you’ll go through a harsh punishment.

“After treating you so well, made you my first damn priority, bought you those lovely clothes and jewelry, allowed you to walk around the house freely.. and your repayment is this? Do you want me to tie you down this very same bed like I did in the start? Because I will, darling, oh I will. I treat you like a princess because you are one to me, but that does not mean you have the privilege to be disrespecting me in such a way. I am not afraid to show you your damn place.”

You froze and looked at her with a mix of fear and hatred. She smiled again, however it was threatening this time; “Behave like the good girl you are, and you won’t face punishment. That is all I ask from you, it isn’t difficult my love.”

She let go of your face and stood up, “Now, it’s pretty cold in here, and you are sick! Would you like another blanket my love? I have a cozy one i’m sure you’ll like.”

You didn’t even have the chance to decline the offer or say no, she was already heading towards the closet and pulled out a soft, thick, blanket. She made her way back towards you and covered you with it along with the bedsheets. As much as you wanted to deny it, it did feel nice and warm now. You built enough courage to look up at her.

This time she was looking at you with love.. although in reality.. you knew it was obsession in her eyes. There wasn’t exactly love, she was simply obsessed with you, she saw you as her pet in a way. One she could treat however she wanted, do whatever she wanted, she didn’t treat you like a human being. So many things she took away from you. Your freedom, your life as a whole.

Many times you’ve complained, cried, even begged her to let you go. You miss your friends, your family, your freedom. But all she does is give you a stern look and tell you that you don’t need them. You have her! You don’t need to go outside when you can stay in this lovely home she provided for the both of you.

Arguing with her was pointless, at the end you never win anyway.

“Oh don’t give me that face my love. You look like a sad dog with that long face. Is it because of the sickness? Don’t worry I’ll make you feel better.” Tennant said.

She knew well that wasn’t the reason you were upset. She was anything but stupid; however she looks past the big picture, she always does on purpose.

“How about I make you some chicken soup hmm?” You only nodded. It was clear Tennant was displeased with the lack of interaction but simply brushed it off and left.

An hour passed, you just sat there looking at the locked window. The window you once tried to escape through, obviously, your mission was unsuccessful.

It was one of the many attempts you’ve made, and on each one of them you’d get caught, and they all ended the same; punishment.

It was never to a point of her physically hurting you, the only time she would ever physically hurt you would be if you throw hands or try to harm her. Her punishments were to tie you down, sometimes in the dark blindfolded if you were being extra bad.

The mental breakdowns it causes, the panic, anxiety. It was torture to be locked away, unable to move, unable to see for a whole week. You hate the woman with your heart, yet you held strong fear for her too because you knew the complete control she has over you.

A knock was heard, you didn’t look. You knew it was her, who else would it be? No one knew where you were, your family.. your friends. No one.

The door opened.

“I’m back love.” Tennant sat once again beside you on the bed, “I will hand feed you, open your mouth wide!” She exclaimed.

You obeyed and let her feed you. As much ad you hate her, you sort of appreciate her efforts of taking care of you. I mean truthfully, she could do worse and not care at all.

Her cooking was also pretty good. Tennant is known for having great taste, even in food. The chicken soup really showed that, it was tasty, creamy, it’s ridiculous to start rambling about how good chicken soup is but it’s true!

“Oh? You like it don’t you?” She smirked “Once you are finished i’ll be sure to prepare you some tea. Tea helps a lot during these conditions of sickness.”

You looked at her shyly, afraid to make your staring too obvious. It’s almost unbelievable that she is the same woman who has turned your life into a living hell… It’s even heartbreaking; in a way.

“Erm… Thank you… For taking care of me..” you randomly said.

She gave you a coy smile “My sweet darling, no need to thank me. It is my job as your lover to take care of you after all, no?” She placed the bowl of soup on the nightstand again and leaned close to you.

You grew nervous, it was awkward. With one hand she wrapped it around your waist, and with the other one, gently grabbed your chin while brushing her thumb against your lips.

“I suppose.” You softly said.

Tennant chuckled, “You’re so adorable. I love you so much, i’d do anything for you.”

Suddenly she pulled you into a kiss. It wasn’t nowhere near hungry, filled with lust like many past ones you’ve had with her, rather it was possessive yet passionate. Too deep in thought you weren’t sure how to respond, kiss back? Don’t?

You kissed back slowly and awkwardly. It was painful, painful to know this is your life now, what other choice do you have? There is no way out, no one to save you. Obedience is the only way you can live peacefully with this woman, to submit, forget your past, your friends your family… You’re stuck here with her, you’re like her pet, her house wife, her possession; you don’t feel like a human being.

You’re so hopeless, and alone.

You wanted to cry, you never wanted your life to turn this way.

What did you do to deserve this!?

Tennant pulled back and caressed your cheek “Now, you should finish your soup before it gets cold.“

Throughout the whole day she was there, she didn’t leave like many other days to go “work”, it was weirdly comforting. She brought you tea and sat under the bedsheets with you and read you a book she bought a few days ago for you.

As for the night she cuddled with you, she kept you wrapped around her arms during the cold night. She stayed with you.

It’s sad… If only she wasn’t a monster underneath that pretty face of hers, if only she wasn’t a psychopath, if only she truly felt love, you would’ve been more than happy to have her in your life.

But life is cruel isn’t it?

You laid there on the bed, staring at that same window from before. Tennant laid there sleeping, her body pressed against yours as she held you.

Will you just give up and try to fall for this crazy woman? Will you forget about your past, everything and everyone with the only thing left to remember is your name?

A tear rolled down your cheek as you buried your face against the sleeping woman’s chest. You hate her, but she is the only one you have right now.

#reverse 1999 #reverse 1999 x reader #reverse1999 #reverse 1999 tennant #re1999 #tennant #tennant reverse 1999 #tennant x reader #ada tennant #reverse: 1999 #reverse 1999: tennant #yandere tennant #reverse 1999 tennant x reader

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bellaxgiornata · 11 months

Text

Keep Coming Back to You (Chapter One)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader travels the multiverse hiding in different worlds from the one who is hunting her because of her ability. Over time, she realizes she keeps getting pulled back to Matt Murdock in his world. See my Masterlist of stories or the PROLOGUE for the full summary of this series (& you might want to read it first, anyway).

Warnings: 18+ for this series; angst, smut, horror, language, violence (possibly more warnings later)

Word Count: 4.4k

a/n: Just going to go ahead and post the first chapter already for y'all so you can actually get some college Matt and Foggy! And some zombie world--I mean, Nightmare 1. Hopefully you enjoy the first full chapter of this series! Depending how posting on tumblr goes, maybe we will see all the chapters on here, but otherwise I post everything on AO3 (which you can find in my Masterlist).

Six Years Later

A cold gust of wind blew over you, rustling the leaves on the nearby trees. A storm was inevitably on its way, you could tell it by that scent of ozone in the air. Sweet and strong, a crisp smell that was often comforting to you.

Except for right now.

Heavy footfalls pounded along the sidewalk behind you, the sound spurring you forward. Quickly you darted around a corner, racing past two-story house after two-story house. The only light you had to see through the dark was coming from the perfectly spaced street lights in the upscale neighborhood and the few outdoor sconces that were lit on the front of some of the homes. You weren’t even shocked that no one had even glanced out of their window to see why a young woman was being chased at night down their street. It was amazing what people anywhere chose to ignore.

Your lungs felt close to bursting, a sharp pain steadily building as you struggled to take a full breath and keep on running. You could feel the sweat accumulating along your forehead despite the chill of the evening. There was a stitch in your side gradually turning into a painful cramp that made it hard for you to keep up your pace. Your legs were getting weak; your left shin felt like it was burning with every jolt from the pavement beneath you as you ran.

They had been chasing you for blocks now and you had never been the best runner, even if you’d had to learn back on Nightmare 1 just so you could survive. But with the added fence climbing you were doing trying to get some distance between you and them, you were quickly reaching your breaking point. You needed to stop and rest. You needed to find a safe space to get out of here and get them off of your trail.

Panting heavily, you abruptly turned and sprinted down the side of a house and towards the backyard. Your heart was hammering in your chest feeling like it was ready to beat right through your ribcage. Fear was building in you, a fear so strong that you were desperately trying to fight back down. If you didn't get your body under control you knew exactly what would happen soon. You would be pulled–and you definitely didn't want to be pulled. You needed to focus and calm down so you could jump. Fear would only make things worse.

"You can't hide from me girl!" they roared out.

They weren’t too far behind, you’d certainly been slowing down.

" Shit ," you whispered.

Your eyes scanned the backyard around you–there was a patio with a built-in firepit, a large outdoor dining area, and a pool. None of which would do you any good. Shifting your focus, you spotted the few large trees and a playset with a covered roof farther down the yard. Without hesitation you sprinted towards the playset, throwing yourself up the ladder rung after rung and wincing as it creaked unsteadily underneath your weight.

Please don't snap in half under me. Please don't snap in half under me.

When you reached the top you immediately crawled up against one of the wood walls, tucking your legs tight into your body. Forcing yourself to calm down, you inhaled sharply through your nose, held your breath, and then carefully exhaled as quietly as you could.

You heard their soft footsteps rustling through the grass and you hesitantly peered through a knot in the wood of the playset just beside you. They were standing in the dark yard, their eyes focused directly on the playset you were trying to hide inside. Your eyes snapped shut–you didn't have much time. You needed to go, needed to make a jump.

When you opened your eyes again, you tried to ignore the thunderous beating of your heart in your ears as you focused on the space before you. Concentrating hard, the shimmering threads of colorful light slowly shifted into focus.

"You can't hide forever, girl," they called out again.

You tried to ignore them, your eyes searching for the thread that you had always felt a slight draw towards, though lately it was getting harder and harder to find through the multitudes of universes. Home–that thread meant Home to you. Or at least lately it had become something like Home. You figured you’d jump there and then quickly find somewhere else to jump to lose them for good for a while.

"The others couldn't hide from me either," they told you, their voice closer.

Their words caused you to pause, momentarily distracted as the threads glittered before you, varying shades of colors and lights softly reflecting along your legs. In the distance you heard a crack of thunder roar through the sky.

"You’re not the only one, Serena," they continued, smug satisfaction in their tone. "And I know that's not your real name, girl."

Your head snapped to your left. They were standing at the bottom of the playset’s slide now, staring right at you through the dark with a menacing smile. The teeth of the young man they were currently possessing flashed at you like a warning. A terrified shiver ran down your spine at the sight.

"I always get them eventually," they called up to you. "Just like I'll get you."

Ice cold fear shot its way through your veins. Before you could control it, something was tugging sharply at your body. That horrifyingly familiar feel of cold hands gripping your shoulders and yanking you forcefully backwards hit you hard.

And then you were falling.

Your stomach felt like it was flying up into your throat, your organs shifting and squeezing unpleasantly inside of you as you were pulled–the second worst possible thing that could have happened to you in that moment.

Just as fast as it had started the sensation stopped. You landed hard on your knees along cracked pavement, wincing in pain at the rough drop. Your hands instinctively flew forward, scratching roughly along the broken cement as you tried to steady yourself on all fours. Panting hard, you looked up and surveyed your surroundings while hoping against all hope you weren’t where you thought you were. But your heart fell to the demolished road beside you the moment you took in the sight of the plant life overtaking the decrepit houses around you. Eyes closing, you tried to fight back the sting of tears.

Not here again.

A fresh wave of panic rolled through you as you quickly and quietly rose to your feet. It had been awhile since you’d been to this world, but you remembered exactly what you needed to do. You needed to be silent. You needed to remain calm. And you needed to get the fuck out of here as fast as you possibly could. Before one of those things found you. You just needed a second to catch your breath and scan your surroundings, to make sure you were safe and alone. Then you would find a safe universe and jump again.

That's it, you told yourself. Just calm down. I'll get out of here, I always do. Just need to stay calm.

You tried to take a steady breath, keeping your eyes open while you scanned the area around you. Carefully you expelled the breath as gently as you could, your eyes taking in the sight of the post-apocalyptic neighborhood before you. There was a gaping hole in the roof of the house just in front of you, the front door entirely missing. Both houses beside it had broken windows and ivy snaking its way up the front of them. The exterior paint had long since faded and the mailboxes out front were rusted and tipped to the side. But at least you didn't see any movement. As you observed your surroundings, you kept an ear out and listened to every single noise around you. For now, the soft whistle of wind through the copse of trees nearby was thankfully all you could hear. Everything else was quiet.

Good. Silence was good here. Silence met one of those things weren't about to jump out and try to savagely rip you to shreds and eat you like you were their last meal.

Or infect you.

Fuck, I hate this place.

Cautiously you made your way through the tall grass as it brushed against your skin, the soft swish of it hitting your ears. The overcast light from the sun sneaking through the cloud cover overhead was a sharp contrast to the dark night you'd just been running through moments ago.

Traveling through worlds was incredibly strange. It could be broad daylight in one place, but then you could jump and end up somewhere where it was pitch black seconds later. Same with the weather–it could be springtime somewhere, with birds chirping and flowers blooming, and then another moment you were landing in three feet of freezing cold snow in a pair of shorts.

Your concept of time was entirely fucked at this point.

Moving on the front of your feet, you tried to make as little sound as possible as you walked. It was difficult to catch your breath, trying in vain to keep your labored breathing steady and quiet after that chase you’d barely escaped. You just wanted to get your back against something solid and search the threads for a universe that felt safe to jump to. That was your focus right now.

You moved slowly, careful to be as soundless as you could and grimacing at the stains of old blood you saw splattered along the panels of the house as you walked. You crept your way gradually around to the side of the house, glad that it was windowless. Very carefully you turned, stepping backwards until your back hit the wall. At least nothing could sneak up behind you while you worked now.

With a sharp exhale through your nose you tried to focus on the space before you yet again. Gradually the threads of multiple universes appeared, shimmering in the overcast light of the day. This time there was a rush of blues and purples that came forward. You squinted, reaching two fingers tentatively out and trying to get a feel for a few threads of light.

Maybe you needed to find somewhere new. Somewhere that they wouldn't easily think to find you. But you hated finding new worlds. You never knew what you would be walking into every time you jumped. Though usually if you trusted your instincts you would end up in a world similar to your Home. Right now that's what you needed to find.

A noise came from not too far away, cutting through the silence. You froze instantly at the sound, your fingers holding onto a thread as your eyes darted to the side. And then the jarring, guttural, screeching noise that plagued your nightmares rang out through the trees nearby. The hair along your arms instantly rose, a prickling feeling growing at the base of your skull.

Your jaw clenched, your heart rate rising again. Time was up. You needed to get out of here now. You didn't need to encounter one of those again. You had nothing to fight it with and you sure as shit wouldn't manage to outrun it.

As the terrifying, rasping growl cut through the air around you yet again, you knew exactly what that sound meant from the time you’d spent here before. It was searching, probably having caught onto the fresh scent of the blood on your scraped hands. But before you could pull the thread of light between your fingers and jump, it disappeared. All of the colorful lights before you suddenly vanished.

"Shit," you whispered.

That loud, rasping roar reverberated through the air again and shot another spike of fear and adrenaline through you.

It had gotten closer.

As you turned, trying to remain calm, you prepared to hide in the house behind you. But that’s when you heard it. Something like a high-pitched shriek in response. There was a second one. And they were communicating with each other. You knew what that sound meant.

They knew something was here.

Pressing your lips tight together, you moved along the side of the house, keeping one shoulder against the panels as you crept along. Your eyes were darting all over the place, a feeling of unease washing over you in the sudden, eerie silence that had fallen. You knew they hadn’t gone. You knew they were hunting for you, slowly honing in on the scent of your bleeding palms and the sound of your footsteps.

Carefully you stepped up the decaying back porch steps, taking each step one at a time as you moved. On the third step the wood let out a loud creak and you flinched, sucking in your breath and holding it. A few seconds later you heard a low growl coming from a house over.

If you didn’t get the hell out of here soon, you’d be dead in minutes.

Biting down on your tongue, you bolted up the last step and sprinted into the house. You barely had time to register the layout of the house, your eyes spotting the kitchen before you ran straight towards it. Breathing a quiet sigh of relief when you spotted the dust-covered knife block on the counter, you threw out a hand and pulled out the biggest one. You’d at least try to take them out before you went down, even if your count for killing intelligent zombies was only at one.

You turned, wiping your bloody hand along the doorframe and smearing the blood before bolting over to the space beside the fridge, far away from the door. You pressed yourself flush to the wall and did your best to slow your panicked breaths.

This was where you needed to be silent. The zombies in this world–rotters as the survivors here called them–were fast. And they were incredibly smart, with a language they somehow understood between each other, one that had taken you a bit of time to learn. But the downfall of them was their eyesight. While they had amazing hearing and a decent sense of smell, it's like they were practically blind. So if you could remain absolutely still and silent, you could technically hide from them–though the blood on your hands might prove a problem.

Sure enough, it was only a moment before you heard the back door bang open, slamming into the wall. Your eyes closed as you gripped the knife tighter in your right hand. A wheezing sound met your ears, gradually growing louder as the rotter made its way towards the kitchen, its footfalls causing the floor to creak. A moment later you heard scratching just along the wall on the opposite side of the fridge. Swallowing hard, you held your breath. It was in the kitchen now, drawn to the scent of your blood you’d wiped along the doorframe hoping to confuse it.

A guttural, clicking sound echoed through the kitchen as it took a step further inside. Your eyes flew open, your heart jumping into your throat as you saw the half-decayed thing standing not seven feet away from where you were hiding. Its head slowly swept the room, momentarily pausing along the side of the fridge where you were hiding. Could it hear how loud your heart was racing? Did it smell the scent of your blood in the air?

Another high-pitched shriek came from somewhere outside of the house and the animated corpse’s head snapped to the side as it registered the call. Apparently the other one had found something.

Probably an animal, the poor fucking thing.

The rotter turned, hurrying out of the kitchen. A few seconds later you heard the back door slamming against the wall again as the thing left. You expelled the breath you’d been holding and tried to steady your hands. You needed to go now .

Concentrating harder than you ever had before, you willed the lights to appear. It took you a few tries before they finally did. With the only thought in your head a prayer that you didn’t land in a body of water, you yanked the blue thread of light in a rush and went barreling forward, your body feeling like it was being pulled from your navel this time. The familiar yet uncomfortable twisting of your insides commenced as you fell forward through lights and colors, feeling as if you were being momentarily squeezed through a small, tight space.

And then you were sliding along your side roughly across more pavement, your eyes closed tight. It took you a moment to realize the knife in your hand had sliced down the side of your arm when you’d fallen. Pain shot through you and you groaned, tossing the knife away from you. You hissed through your teeth, trying to push yourself upright along the pavement you had once again landed on.

“What the hell ?”

You paused on all fours, eyes going wide before your head whipped in the direction of the voice. Two young men were standing at the edge of what appeared to be an alley that you’d dropped into. One of them was visibly gaping at you, his long blonde hair reaching just past his shoulders. His own eyes were blown wide at the sight of you hunched over on the ground. Beside him, clutching onto one of his arms, was another man with shorter dark hair and a pair of dark glasses that seemed quite out of place considering how dark it was outside. But then your eyes dropped down to the cane in his left hand and you quickly pieced it together–he was blind. So while he most likely hadn’t just witnessed you appear out of nowhere, it seemed his friend might have.

Cradling your bleeding arm into your body, you fell back on your ass and scuttled backwards along the pavement until your back hit a wall. This was not what you needed right now. You’d dealt with far too much already.

“Did you just…just fucking appear out of thin air?” the blonde asked in awe, still visibly gawking at you at the end of the alley. “Or did I somehow drink that much tonight?”

“You’re drunk,” you called back, latching onto the first thing he gave you.

His eyes dropped down to where you were holding your arm before they shifted to the bloody knife on the ground. Beside him, you noticed his friend was quite intensely focused on you for someone who was blind and couldn't actually see you. Which would have made you suspicious if you didn't know they only ever possessed those who weren’t vision impaired.

“Whoa, hey, are you okay?” the blonde asked nervously. He pointed a finger at the knife on the ground. “Someone attack you? Or–”

“I’m fine,” you said firmly.

“You’re–you’re bleeding,” he pressed. “We should like call an ambulance or something. Get you to a hospital–”

“No hospitals!” you snapped, shaking your head. “I don’t do hospitals.”

“She’s bleeding?” his friend asked curiously.

“I said I’m fine ,” you growled.

The blonde ignored you, turning and focusing on his friend. “Yeah, she’s got a cut down her arm,” he told him. “Maybe we should call the police?”

Using the wall for support, you pulled yourself up to your feet, hissing out a breath as you did. Your body was spent after everything. You needed rest. You didn’t even know how long you’d been going for with all the jumping between worlds you’d been doing.

“I’m leaving,” you informed the pair. “Forget about me.”

Making your way down the alley towards them, you cradled your bleeding arm against your chest. You noticed the blonde shrink away from you as you neared, a look of unease on his face. He tried to pull his friend out of the way when he moved, but the dark haired man remained attempting to block your exit out of the alley.

“You’re injured, you should let us help you,” he said.

You glared back at him instantly, squaring your shoulders. “I said I’m fine. Back off,” you warned.

He didn’t move, his expression not even remotely wavering at the edge in your voice. And that only further irritated you.

“Let us help,” he offered calmly. “I’m quite good at stitching if your arm needs it. Just come with us back to our dorm and I can help you.”

"No," you growled, skirting around him.

A hand grabbed your shoulder and you immediately bristled at the unwanted contact, spinning on the spot and ripping your shoulder from his hold. You took a step back, placing a bit of distance between you and this stranger. He immediately raised his hand like he had meant no harm. Next to him, his blonde haired friend was openly staring at your bleeding arm, his lips slightly parted. You really did need to bandage it.

"Just let me help you, please," the dark haired man pleaded, his tone more insistent. "You can leave right after if you want. But…we were planning to order some pizza. If you're hungry."

Your eyes narrowed further back at him, scoffing loudly despite the way your stomach growled at the thought of food. It had been a bit since you'd last eaten and you were definitely hungry after all that running and multiverse jumping.

"I'm not some stray," you grumbled instead.

He shot you a placating smile, nodding his head slowly. "Of course, I wasn't trying to imply anything," he said gently. "But I mean, you are bleeding and my friend here said you just appeared out of thin air so–" he shrugged a shoulder casually, "–I am sort of curious now."

"Don't be," you replied quickly, taking another step back from the pair of them. "I'm not interesting."

"Well now I'm more interested," he teased, his lips pulling up higher at the corners.

You took another step back, heart rate accelerating before you inhaled a sharp breath, holding it and forcing yourself to calm back down. As if sensing he was only further making you want to run, the man took a cautious step towards you as if you really were a feral stray, the teasing expression quickly falling from his face.

"Please," he begged again. "Let us help. I just want to help."

"Why the hell do you so badly want to help a stranger?" you snapped, scanning him warily up and down.

"Let's just say I can sense when someone is in trouble," he answered softly. "And I just want to help. That's all. I swear." He extended a hand forward towards you very slowly as if he was afraid the gesture would spook you. "My name is Matthew, but you can call me Matt."

You flinched back from his outstretched hand, staring at it as if it would somehow suddenly brandish a knife at you. But of course no knife appeared in his large waiting palm. Your eyes carefully slid back up to his face, taking in what you could see of him with his glasses on. He was still smiling back at you, a genuine warmth on his face even if his friend seemed a bit suspicious beside him.

You stood there for a moment, hesitantly studying the man before you. For some reason you found yourself wanting to trust this stranger. It felt like something was almost drawing you towards him, making you want to accept his help. Which wasn’t something that happened often with you. Swallowing hard, you tried to push down your fears. He had to be safe at least, because they didn't possess the blind. And you did occasionally need to trust people in these different worlds you found yourself in just to get by and survive sometimes.

That's all this will be , you told yourself. Just a one time acceptance of help. And if they turn out to be bad guys, I’ll just jump again.

Carefully you reached out, placing your hand into his. He gripped yours firmly in response, entirely unaware of the amount of trust you had just given him.

"My name is Serena," you lied.

His head tilted curiously to the side for a moment, his brows twitching on his forehead briefly just above his glasses as his smile faltered just a fraction–but you’d caught the movement. And then he released your hand, smiling wider at you like that weird little moment hadn't happened.

"This is my friend Franklin, but I call him Foggy," he told you, gesturing a hand at the man beside him.

Your attention returned to the blonde as you raised a brow at the name. He waved nervously back at you, a tight smile on his face. Your lip pulled up into something between a sneer and a smile. You didn't really do the making friends thing.

"Let's get you back to our dorm," Matt said, grasping back onto his friend's arm. "It's only a few blocks from here. Then I can bandage your arm."

Matt and Foggy continued past you on the sidewalk, the blonde leading his friend. With a resigned sigh you cautiously followed a few steps behind the pair, listening as Matt and Foggy chattered on over the sounds of the city you’d found yourself in. Though you certainly noticed the way Foggy kept shooting you uncomfortable glances over his shoulder when he thought you weren't looking.

Not like you could blame him. Your clothes were worn and you probably looked like a dead tired mess. Plus, you were dressed for summer in dirty clothes you hadn’t changed out of in days, and it felt more like early spring here with the slight, cool breeze brushing over your exposed skin.

Keeping your distance behind the chatty pair, your eyes lingered on the back of Matt. You wondered why he’d been so adamant to help, and you wondered even more why he kept trying to draw you into their conversation, especially when you only responded with a rude grunt. If he minded your discourteous responses, he never showed it.

But you found yourself really wondering one thing on the entire walk back to their dorm. Why was it whenever you looked at this Matthew–who you’d just met–did you feel almost… safe with him? You'd never felt safe with anyone before. It was…odd.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #daredevil x female reader #daredevil x reader #matt murdock series #matt murdock fic #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock x fem reader

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sagau-my-beloved · 1 year

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Just got a little idea while reading that winged reader hcs. Imagine Reader and venti creating a nest built of their random things like ventis Cape Reader hoodie and of course feathers. After days of building the nest, they can finally rest and cuddle in peace. Just make my heart warm <3

🧩 anon

Honestly Venti with avian traits my beloved, I simply think it would be very cute

He's got the big pretty wings, his real form is one that's bird-like, I am 100% down for making him more bird orientated pls

So on that, Venti with heightened senses, Venti having sharper eyesight and a very keen sense of smell that's gotten him out of a lot of trouble

Possessive Venti who needs you to smell like him because he just can't rest unless he knows no one will mistake you as available, even though the logical side of him know that's not quite how humans work

His wings probably shed like crazy too, so Venti sneaking a few feathers in with your belongings as another way of letting everyone know you're his, and of course he'll just gift them to you as well, he likes the idea of having a part of him in your possession and his feathers are just so pretty and soft anyway

And there are some days where he just feels an indescribable need to keep you safe and right next to him, where being apart and knowing you're with other people physically hurts him

Those are the days he goes and finds every soft blanket and pillow in the house and asks you to build a 'fort' with him, which turns more into a large nest like pile where he holds you as close as possible like his life depends on it, whining and fussing whenever you need to get up and away from him, promising that he'll be useful tomorrow if you just indulge him today

It's just so warm and comfortable and you're so soft and nice and he just needs to have you in his arms away from everything else for awhile, he'll even allow his wings to be seen so he can wrap you in them too, you like when he does that right? He's being all vulnerable and exposed just for you, so won't you stay a bit longer?

He's even got snacks prepared and he'll sing to you all you want, you're just so warm and smell so nice he just wants to bury his face in you for a few hours, soaking up all the pleasant feelings you provide from your presence alone

This can manifest itself negatively too though, like if someone were to interrupt you...

His instincts would scream at him to get rid of the offending person, the threat, but he has restraint, he's a God after all

Venti's certainly not going to be nice about it though, that person coming directly into his space that he's created specifically for the two of you without so much as an invitation is rather rude, and if they're looking for you, to take you away—

Venti's done being polite and they're getting a door directly to the face, courtesy of the wind and his annoyance

You're absolutely not going anywhere with anyone else, the fact that anyone think they can simply take you is an insult on an unbelievable scale, he's fully capable of providing you with everything you could need thank you very much, no need for you to see another living breathing person today while he's there to fill all the gaps

But major avian Venti brainrot 👌

#genshin impact #genshin venti #genshin x reader #venti x reader #brainrot #🧩 anon #he's so pretty and cute #i wanna pet his wings so badly #i bet they're so soft

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katy-l-wood · 1 year

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You know, I talk about my family Cabin on here a lot, but I don't think I've ever actually explained what the Cabin IS. So. Story time. We haven't had a story time in awhile.

This story starts sometime in the early 1900s with my great grandfather losing half his right hand in some sort of logging/mill/mining accident. The stories vary depending who in the family you ask. (He also ran mule trains over the mountains at some point.) But however he lost it, he ended up in the local hotel (which was a facade building, I believe, so just a glorified tent) because there was no hospital. There was also no doctor. Somehow somebody tracked down a nurse somewhere and brought her to the hotel.

BUT!

It was improper for this young woman to be alone with a man, even if she was trying to make him not be dead. The scandal!!!

So that nurse became my great-grandmother. No idea what their actual wedding was like, but I imagine it was rather interesting given they'd only known one another two days and he was still half delirious because of major injury.

Now we'll skip forward a bit. They decide to buy a few acres over in Middle Park/Grand County, and they're gonna start a little ranch up there. They pay some dude for the land and pack up the wagon (yes, wagon, the Colorado mountains didn't get the message that the century had changed until about 30-40 years after it happened). But then they arrived and, on no, they've been lied to! No land is waiting! They managed to get themselves a few acres anyway and went about starting their ranch and having 10+ children, all but one of whom lived to adulthood which was damn impressive. (Also worthwhile to note here that, until sometime in the 1950s, there was only one doctor in the whole county and she was a grumpy old lady who didn't believe in pain meds.)

Their youngest daughter died at 4, I believe from whooping cough, and less than a week later my great-grandfather came in from the fields, said he wasn't feeling well, laid down, and died. So now here's my great-grandmother in the middle of the Rockies in the 1920s with 10+ kids, some of them still under 10. And let me tell you, she kicked ass.

But what does all of this have to do with the Cabin you say? Well, see, those 10+ kids spread out all over the county, buying their own lands and marrying into the other families up there. Then along came the state saying "hey, we want to build a reservoir where your house is, get out." To which my great-grandmother said "fuck you." She said fuck you enough times that the family eventually ended up with 1000+ acres in exchange for moving off their little plot. They literally just picked up the house and moved it about 1/4 mile up the hill, and that original house is still there today.

Now, ever since then the family has sold off some of the land, but we still have a lot of it. The family cattle ranch is still operational as well, now run by one of my second cousins. A couple of my great-uncles also built houses on various parts of the property over the years, which is how we get to the Cabin.

My grandfather, the youngest living child of his parents, eventually moved down to Denver. But he still loved his home in the mountains, and wanted his 10 kids to experience that as well. One of the houses on the family property had fallen into disuse, to the point cows were living in it and having a grand old time. My grandfather decided to fix it up so that he and his kids could have a place to go up there. This was the first Cabin, referred to as Camp Grub. Until his sister-in-law, who technically owned the house with his brother, realized he'd fixed the house and went "oh, how nice of you! Get out, it's mine now."

Thus, the second Cabin came into being. Not wanting to give up on having a place up there, my grandfather found another cabin a few miles away and rented that. It was called the White House because it was. Well. White. This is where my dad and his 9 siblings grew up going all the time. Lots of fond memories of hunting, fishing, and general shenanigans. But then, early in the 90s, the owner of the property didn't renew my grandparent's lease.

This time, my grandparents wanted to get something they OWNED and couldn't be taken from them. They settled on the Cabin, which was again several miles away in a different spot. This third Cabin is the one we still have today, the little A-frame. It was named Moose Camp.

None of his children wanted him to buy an A-frame. Because A-frames are terrible. It could only sleep six people and, at this point, there were a good 20+ family members that wanted to use it. But my grandfather did not care. So we ended up with an A-frame that sits on 60ish acres and, at the time, was on the only tiny little flat spot of the entire 60ish acres.

My dad and his siblings, mostly in their 20s and early 30s at the time, took one look at this and decided nope. Must fix. So they promptly set about hand-digging a basement to add four more bedrooms, and they dug out a huge chunk of the hillside to create a flat spot for the garage and parking. Half the garage is a garage, the other half (separated by a wall) is an outdoor livingroom/dining area. There has been some other odds and ends projects done over the years such as cutting a couple RV parking spots out of the woods, but nothing else major.

Now, this is the Cabin I grew up in and the one we still have. I have spent nearly 30 years of my life going up there almost every weekend. After my parents divorced they started moving at least once a year each so from a very young age I never had a stable home except for the Cabin.

The whole family used it, and you never knew who was coming. It could be just a few people, or twenty. Sometimes people brought friends. Sometimes distant cousins showed up. My cousins and I had the run of the place, and the whole 60 acres. It was a grand old time, and I wouldn't trade it for the world. We all learned to shoot, to hunt, to be safe in the woods. We heard all the family stories, and visited the family that still lived up there. There were always at least two fridges full of food and it was just sort of a free for all of who ate what, didn't really matter who brought it. There were campfires out behind the garage. There were lazy days in the gazebo my dad and his siblings built for their mother from scrap wood.

After my grandparents died, the Cabin was put into a trust so that now all of their kids have an equal share in it. (Except for one, who we do not speak of, because she is not welcome in the family anymore, and another who has died.) Over the years, most of the family has used it less and less. My dad and I are now the ones who use it the most, and do most of the upkeep. I've got an uncle and an aunt (my dad's brother and sister) who come up a fair amount as well, but the uncle is getting a bit too old to really help out with the heavy projects and the aunt...well...she tries.

Other family does still come up, though. Some a handful of times every year, others only once a year or so. They usually find something to complain about (specifically one aunt who is a very my-way-or-the-highway person) or some project they think needs done, and they'll moan about it not getting taken care of, but never do anything about it. They leave and my dad and I continue to tinker with the plumbing, cut firewood for everyone else to use, clean out the fridges, restain the siding, fix the basement when it floods in the spring, plow the road, and everything else that needs done, never really bringing up the fact that we're the only real caretakers left of the place. If the rest of the family does manage to decide to do some sort of project my dad and I usually end up putting it back in order once they're gone, and they never notice.

We still visit the surrounding family, we still hunt, we still explore. But it's quieter now. It'll always be home, though. The only real home I've ever had. According to the rules of the trust, the property has to stay in the Wood family unless every member of the trust agrees to sell, which they'll never do. So it'll be there, in some form, for quite awhile.

(Putting the words Long Post in here so the tumblr filters can hide it even if other people don't tag it as such.)

#The Cabin #The Wood Family #Storytime #Long Post #Story time

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whotfletamothhyperfx · 6 months

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In the Wizard of Oz AU, are all witches born from other witches, or can they be born from anyone? Basically, where do the magic powers come from?

Well not really it can happen that a witch is born from another witch but it’s honestly quite rare, some families will have multiple people in their families who turn out to be witches but that’s more of a coincidence thing rather than anything generic or like that.

Magic if your not born with it is either chosen or given usually with some kind of ceremony depending on how the person passing down the magic can be. But it really does depend in most cases but for the main four witches at the time of the au

Eggman was given magic shorty before Maria died, it had gotten to the point where it didn’t matter if she gave it up or not because she was too far gone at that point to be kept alive . Just keeping her going at that state just so her powers weren’t given to someone evil was getting cruel. She trusted Eggman, they were cousins so she gave it to him not wanting it to be in the wrong hands. It’s too bad she gave it directly to the person who shouldn’t have it

Starline to gain Eggmans trust built machines and weapons to help him overtake Zavok who was the original witch of the east before Starline. The two ended up killing almost all of Zavoks minions and in return for sparing him Starline forced Zavok to give him the magic. Sure Zavoks plan was to come back for revenge but to his luck Starline and Eggman planned to just kill him anyway no matter what happened or not.

Shadow had been chosen to be the witch of the south king before it had actually happened. When Eggman and Starline decided that they had manipulated Shadow enough they went to Vanillas house and threatened her children and other children in the village that if she didn’t give her powers over to shadow then they would kill them all. It took a long while but eventually she just gave in. She couldn’t have children’s blood on her hands

Sonic is different from the other three that he was born with some magic, not a lot and certainly not enough to be a witch at the time but it wasn’t helped that his uncle chuck was the witch of the west. Eggman and Starline knew Chuck wouldn’t give his powers over no matter what so they snuck into chucks house killing him in his sleep and whisking sonic away. All three of the triplets had powers but they were very small and would need to be nurtured in a very specific way to work. Eggman and Starline encouraged Sonic to be the replacement witch of the west when he was older while Vanilla just wanted Sonic and Manic to be kids

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light-wayland · 11 months

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There ain't no way you make me give you a ranked list of Circle members and get away with not making your own. C'mon, tell me! Who're your most and least favourite of the circle gang?

naive of you to assume i wasn’t going to send you one anyway. i think i like all circle members, only the top 3 are definitive, everything after depends on the mood so i won't even number

Robert Lightwood. he's only my all time favorite character and i think about him every minute of my existence since i've read The Evil We Love all those years ago. nothing special

Michael Wayland. this adorable little man crawled into the grossest deeps of robert's grumpy cold heart and said "There's nothing wrong with you, Robert." and got his heart broken horribly. in the process turned waywood into my all time favorite ship and changed my life. thanks man

Maryse Lightwood. gaslight gatekeep girlboss? except that she was the gaslighted one i think... anyway, she put up with robert for 24 freaking years, and post-michael robert was so annoying. mother. but also literally badass mom. i wish we understood her better.

Luke Garroway. it's giving father figure and can be shipped with several people. at the same time he's an asshole who doesn’t aknowledge his own assholery and that gives him depth because it's more realistic than let's say robert who thinks everything he does is a unexcusable mistake

Valentine Morgenstern. [redacted] but what he and luke have going is kinda hot not gonna lie

Stephen Herondale. my lightwood loving bias would usually stop me from touching a golden annoying mf even with a ten foot pole but this one can and will be poked with a sharp ten foot pole because like maryse he is somehow nasty enough to put up with robert's grumpy face and he's also a huge loser

Jocelyn Fairchild. luke's female half but with not page time enough to be cool. i think a problem is that her character on page doesn’t live up to what's built around her, even less than luke, and that makes her underwhelming, but i'm her apologist when it comes to her decisions as a mother, i will choose her over her biological son anytime

Hodge Starkweather. deserves better. he was stuck in the same house with robert and maryse for 15 years. that's punishment enough if we're being real

Céline Montclaire. i understand why some readers love her. she's kind but has a selfish side, which makes her human. on practice she's too nice to me, and not nasty enough to put up with robert

Amatis Graymark. i genuinely like her and stephen as a couple i just don't care much about her individually, which is a shame because her story is interesting. i guess she has a similar problem as jocelyn

i think all circle members are interesting characters so in my head they're awesome. i hope this list satisfies you

#robert lightwood #michael wayland #maryse lightwood #luke garroway #jocelyn fairchild #valentine morgenstern #stephen herondale #celine montclaire #amatis graymark #hodge starkweather #the circle of raziel #the secret treasons #ask reply

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inmarbleimmobility · 3 months

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1.1.6 - How He Protected His House

THE ONE WITH THE CHAIRS!!! my youngest brother and i goof about this chapter All The Time because this is as far as he ever made it in the brick. so sometimes we'll be at a holiday gathering and my mother will inevitably ask about how many of us there are while setting the table and my brother will go, "seven? yeah we have enough chairs for that, we could do up to eleven actually, it would be more but that one upstairs is too big-"

anyway!

"the most beautiful of altars [...] is the soul of an unhappy man who is comforted and thanks god" is fascinating. on the surface obviously he's talking about how compassion and love are more important than material goods. but also, the altar is *the* single most important part of a physical church to the point that the church is essentially built around it - compassion and love are the center around which Myriel's entire belief system (and the one Hugo argues for) is built.

I love that Myriel has "pupils from the secondary school" over!!! I'm imagining like tea in the headmaster's office but it's with the nice old bishop who just loves hearing about everything you've been learning lately

the bit about Baptistine's sofa dreams is actually kind of crushing?? "whoever attains the ideal"???? Hey Hugo, I know this is The Miserable Book but that's a little bit of a downer even for you. like, no, material things shouldn't be the ideal, of course! beautiful furniture is no substitute for the things that truly matter! (which, if I had a nickel...) But I feel so bad for her here. Let a woman have her one velvet sofa. (also, for someone who's going to talk so much about a certain "priest of the ideal" later, that's a weird way to talk about your ideal!)

it's fascinating also that Myriel still has the "grooming articles that betrayed the elegant habits of the man of the world"! it's a surprising bit of vanity that maybe he doesn't even realize is vanity? or maybe his 10 step skincare routine really is that good.

Myriel's "copper crucifix with traces of silver" caught my eye, because Valjean's crucifix in his terrible room in the Rue de l'Homme Arme is copper too. probably I'm reaching here and and all 18th century crucifixes were made of copper, but either way it's an interesting bookend.

i'm about to get very Red String Conspiracy Meme here for a second BUT! The Candlesticks. the church says you Must have a certain number of (specifically beeswax) candlesticks present on or near the altar at any mass. the absolute minimum is two, but the number increases up to 7 depending on who's celebrating mass/what type of mass is being celebrated. someone who needed a quick 1500 word essay could make something out of this - the fact that aside from the silver cutlery (which there were practical reasons for keeping) the only other Thing he has is those two silver candlesticks, the fact that two candles specifically are used for the low mass, the table/altar comparisons, the altar being a surface on which a sacrifice is made... all of this is an extreme reach but playing with catholic aesthetics is fun, okay, so sue me.

"The beautiful is as useful as the useful. [...] Perhaps even more so."

there sure are a lot of Guys Who Like Flowers in this novel, huh! Myriel, Mabeuf, Jean Prouvaire, even Valjean... I'm sure that means nothing at all!

"Nisi Dominus" etc is Psalm 127:1, "Unless the Lord watches over the city, the watchman stays awake in vain."

"[the bravery of priests] should be peaceable" - and this is where we run into the limit of the Myriel Approach. his need to remain peaceable is the core of that whole interaction with G- and his aversion to the scaffold - he does not believe violence can be justified, which is why he can't change the system, he can only try to mitigate the pain it causes. it feels to me like a direct parallel of Enjolras' "death, I abhor thee, but I use thee".

#this is a particularly unhinged recap #i will likely read it when i'm less sleep deprived and go 'wow you really thought you did something there'#“i've connected the dots” “you didn't connect shit” “i've connected them”#les mis #les mis letters #lm 1.1.6

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whispersinthedawn · 1 year

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The Last of a Dying Breed (3)

“Will I be allowed to live now?” Percy asked dispassionately.

Body in an informal slouch, facial muscles relaxed into the calm that accompanied a true lack of care, and eyes the blue of ice-capped glacial seas, Percy Jackson was the picture of a casual observer inquiring about someone else’s fate.

Apollo wanted to sweep her into his arms and hide her from the indifferent gazes pinning her down like a butterfly on a corkboard.

Apollo wanted to rip off that face of hers for daring to conceal her thoughts and fears from him.

He blinked. That was all the reaction he could permit himself.

“Your death, Pythia, has never been our goal,” Athena informed the demigod.

No, Apollo thought sardonically, just a happy coincidence.

The first hint of animation entered Percy’s face. Her eyes flashed.

Athena continued on, unaware. “While I would encourage caution, especially given our increasingly perilous circumstances, I have already been overruled. No, a return to your previous state of statis could be argued for.”

“No.”

For a second, Apollo didn't recognise his own voice.

Didn't recognise anything but the barely leashed panic in mute eyes looking so entreatingly into his.

“My daughter will not die here,” Poseidon growled out.

Rainbows.

An iridescent light shone in Percy's eyes, like sunlight reflecting off oil poured on the ocean surface to calm the waves.

Please.

With a rush of pleasure that Apollo would deny if anyone were to ever ask, he realised that Percy’s calm was merely a façade. She hadn't changed from the wild, panicked, miserable wretch of those terrible months. Hadn’t passed these interminable years learning self-sufficiency. Hadn't overcome her dependency on him.

Percy might have painstakingly soldered metal plates around herself, but her shell was hollow. She'd built her house from slivers of rusty iron, and now her fortifications trembled.

“And my Pythia will not sleep,” Apollo countered silkily. “Or do you require another reminder of the consequences?”

“You cannot enforce another culling,” Ares sneered, even as his muscles bunched in preparation of an attack.

“I don't need to,” Apollo returned calmly, gaze firmly affixed on the thawing cold of Percy’s irises. “Your daughter would be the first to elucidate you on the dangers of camp.”

Ares snorted, no doubt taking it as yet another comment on the bullying tendencies of his progeny, but Apollo didn't care.

He'd warned them. For the sake of the children, he'd warned them. If they chose to disregard the dangers of the labyrinth, chose to welcome his wrath, then the consequences would be on their own heads.

“The solution is quite simple,” Zeus broke in with a scoff. “It is an insult to my son for him to be saddled with a defective Oracle. But neither do we kill defenceless children who have done nothing but work for the preservation of Olympus.”

Yes, they did. That was all they ever did. They just pretended otherwise.

Occasionally.

“Strip the Oracle from her and put her back to sleep,” Zeus ordered, before smiling with cruel humour. “I’d recommend Artemis’s Hunters, but that would require a maiden.”

Apollo sucked in a breath at the insult. At the sheer disrespect hidden in that statement.

“I am the Pythia,” Percy snarled. “I have not broken any of my vows.”

Zeus shrugged. “Servicing your patron is your duty, not dereliction. Clearly, my son cannot bother to enforce your vows when it comes to his own desires. But I would not insult my daughter by asking her to accept her brother’s leavings.”

“I would take her anyway,” Artemis uttered at the same time as Poseidon warned, “You go too far, brother.”

“My Pythia must be chaste, father,” Apollo broke in indolently.

The insinuations did not bother him particularly. He knew his own lines and that sleeping with his priestess was one he would never cross.

(Not again. Not as long as he still smelled spoiled blood and rotting flesh whenever underground, not as long as her hopeless voice still echoed in his head.

Then what good are you?)

“A doll on a pedestal I can watch, but no one may touch,” Apollo continued.

That was an insult too. An insult to Percy, an insult to the tender emotions blossomed under the curved ceiling of a planetarium.

But the illusion of stars reflecting off eyes that gazed only at him – how could he possibly risk it?

He'd rather insult her than watch her suffer under his father's care.

(There was a reason he'd watched over her days the way Artemis had her nights. A reason no one without his express permission had ever been allowed inside his sleeping Oracle’s room.)

As long as Percy was Apollo’s doll to keep intact, others would keep away. The weak for fear of his retribution … and the strong because they’d misinterpret his cruelty for lack of care.

He just wished he could wipe out the hurt blooming on her face.

“It is not a terrible idea, though,” Hermes interceded. “Take away the Oracle from her while awake, and everything goes back to normal.”

For a moment, Apollo contemplated letting the god down gently. Pondered the benefits of telling him that no matter what happened, May Castellan was forever damaged. That whatever her intentions years ago, she was in no fit state to consent now. Apollo wouldn’t accept vows she was incapable of making.

But Hermes had voted against letting Percy live.

Poseidon, Demeter, and Apollo himself. The only ones who’d spoken for his Pythia.

Apollo let it lie.

Let his silence lie.

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#pjo #perpollo #percy x apollo #fanfiction #Oracle Percy #percy jackson #apollo #fem percy #the last of a dying breed

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peakdeer · 1 year

Note

Hourglass wives/duo

(depending on if it's a romantic or platonic relationship)

The potential relationship dynamic between Lauren the Sand Witch who only started magic like yesterday, and Cleo the Time Witch who has been learning magic for potentially lifetimes using her time powers.

Cleo had been a witch for centuries. She’d practiced magic for her whole life, and all of her unlife. She knew her way around magic, even learning the difficult hex magic. She honed her abilities until she truly was powerful, until she truly was the Time Witch. She’d long lost track of how long she’d lived for.

Lauren had been a witch for a day.

Two, actually, by now. She has no idea how to use magic. She runs around without any wand to her name, not even comprehending how to use one. The one spell she does have, she often casts wrong or positions incorrectly. As a highly talented witch who works in hex magic, the idea horrifies Cleo.

As a fellow witch, as Cleo, she feels bad.

Not bad enough to lavish hundreds of gifts upon the Sand Witch, but enough to talk to her, enough to offer her some advice.

Cleo swooped down in front of the Sand Witch’s sand castle. Or, at least, that was what it looked like. It was very cute, she had to admit. She had to give Lauren credit—at least she had a house. Cleo’d been too busy here to build a proper house, and her old one was infested with glow lichen and rotting.

“Hello. You’re the Sand Witch, right? The new one?” Cleo asked, landing next to the witch in question. She wore a cute dress, kind of like the ones maidens wore in the old villages. Cleo had seen some of them in one of the timelines, but she couldn’t quite remember which one. The Sand Witch actually looked quite interesting, her hair half a dirty blond and the other half a purple—wait.

Cleo had to stop herself from laughing. The Sand Witch looked like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Even the laces in the cuts of her sleeves were colored with the same tan and purple.

“Oh, hello! Hello, yes, that’s me. I… I’m new, yeah. I became a witch just… yesterday I think?” The witch startled, turning to look at Cleo.

“Mhm. How’ve you been settling in?” Cleo inquired, glancing around Lauren’s setup. Besides the house, there didn’t seem to be much there except sand and the occasional dry bush.

“Uh… pretty well, I think! I built a second story onto my house and met some of the other witches! I just, uh. Need to get some more spells and things. I started a farm at least!” Lauren explained, waving towards her farm almost offhandedly. The farm was a sad sight, stalks not quite golden but wilting nonetheless, the heads of grain trailing in the dirt. There wasn’t even a spot of water to help the fields, and it looked as if the farm had been made simply by removing the sand and shoveling dirt in. It was a miracle the crops had even sprouted, especially having grown this much.

“That’s lovely. Your house is very cute, love it.” Cleo responded anyway, pointedly looking at the adorable house instead of the lifeless farm.

“Thank you! I appreciate it! I haven’t had many people come to my house yet, just… just you, actually. No one’s seen my house. I’d invite you in, but you don’t want to see the interior. Trust me.” Lauren chattered, looking almost disappointed for a moment before she forced a smile on her face.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad inside. Do you have a waystone?” Cleo changed the subject quickly, hoping for something safer to talk about. She wasn’t a big fan of dealing with emotions. They were quite inconvenient.

“Oh yeah! I picked one of those up! I’ve kind of been using it as a door stopper.” Lauren looked over at her dented door and winced. “But then I moved it. For obvious reasons.”

Cleo couldn’t suppress a laugh at that. “It looks like a bear mauled your door! How hard do you swing that open??” It indeed looked like someone had wrecked her door—it was covered in scratches in addition to the deep gouges it already had.

“Listen! I’ve got a lot of energy! It just happens sometimes! At least I only hit the wall with it once.” Lauren defended herself. She seemed to realize it was a losing battle, though, huffing and looking away.

“The wall? Lauren, you’d have to tear the door off its hinges to do that!” Cleo’s laughter only intensified at that, and she found herself glad she’d decided to stop by. She hadn’t laughed this hard in a long time.

“…Yeah. I’ve had to replace a few doors. For totally different reasons! It had, uh… nothing to do with that.” Lauren protested, trying in vain to preserve what remained of her dignity. Cleo almost felt bad, but Lauren had done this to herself.

“Sure it didn’t,” Cleo teased with a chuckle. Her eyes caught again on Lauren’s small farm, and she winced. It looked so… unhealthy there, growing on the sand-laced dirt without even water to help it grow.

Lauren didn’t seem to notice, blabbering on. Something about a pelican? Cleo wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

“Here, let me just…” She pulled out her Farmer’s Staff, stepping towards the farm and focusing her powers. The crops began straightening up and growing a second later, the dry and wilting stalks shooting up and filling with life.

Lauren had stopped talking by the time Cleo looked up, her jaw dropped and surprise evident on her face. She seemed to be speechless for a moment, eyes darting from her crop field to Cleo.

“You’re the Nature Witch?” Lauren guessed. “No, actually, you don’t fit the vibe. Uh… not the Storm Witch, Necromancy or Illusionary maybe? Though the crops weren’t really dead, and they feel real…” Lauren poked the stalks suspiciously, as if suddenly doubting them.

“Oh! You’re the Time Witch?” Lauren’s head shot up in realization, her eyes widening.

“Correct,” Cleo agreed with a grin.

Perhaps the Sand Witch was smarter than she thought.

“Woah! That’s so cool! You control Time?” Lauren gasped, eyes darting around Cleo as if she’d see an example if she just looked hard enough.

“Yeah, I do. It’s fun.” Cleo agreed nonchalantly, watching with glee as Lauren’s face filled with awe.

“That’s awesome. I wish I had that power! All I have is… sand. And sometimes it doesn’t work.” Lauren admitted, looking rather bashful. From what Cleo had heard about her, she couldn’t really offer encouragement.

“I’m sure you’ll get better at it. I can help teach you?” Cleo offered without thinking. She hadn’t come here to babysit a witch—but this was different. This was helping a friend. She could at the very least do that.

“That would be great! Ooh, a new friend! I don’t have many of those,” Lauren burst out excitedly, giving a little twirl. Cleo smiled despite herself, a laugh bubbling in her throat.

Or not.

But maybe she didn’t mind that. Maybe she didn’t mind helping the Sand Witch—helping Lauren out a bit.

#wcsmp #zombiecleo #laurenzside #wcsmpshipping #kind of?#it's more implied #hourglass duo #hourglass wives

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the-iceni-bitch · 1 year

Note

hehe ask you stuff you say 🌚 here I come !!

So Lloyd and Ari are the main stars, right? But have any of the other guys expressed their interest in the reader? 🫡 is there any jealousy/jealousy potential or is this a filthy case of sharing is caring 🤭 AND pretty pls rank them from biggest, baddest and meanest !! love you bestie Natalie, your rugby au (all of your aus really) have me by the throat 😚🫶

Yay!!! You never disappoint, Sonny!!

Lloyd and Ari are most def our main daddies, as they’ve known each other and reader the longest.

The guys have definitely expressed interest before, but there is also a big tradition at least in the main house of sharing “dates” and girlfriends, especially if there’s about to be a breakup. With this reader it will be different, since Lloyd actually wants to use the opportunity to share you during team bonding to lock you down, and I will say that you are a much more conscious and willing participant than past girls were, which the guys find they’re very into. You are very much still a victim of the revenge porn portion of team bonding though. Which will help quite a lot with getting you to move in to the main house.

Jealousy potential is there somewhat, but more in the case of certain people (Curtis and August) doing things without permission or trying to monopolize her time when her main daddies aren’t around for whatever reason. And some of the boys who aren’t in the main group (Lucas, Paul, and Lance) definitely get jealous that they only rarely get to indulge in you and never one on one, so there’s a bit of drama there but nothing too major.

Now, biggest and baddest rankings! I have to do a separate list for each because size and meanness are not necessarily correlated for our daddies. This will also just be for the main group.

Biggest:

Curtis - 6’9” of solid muscle, can probably lift a car with no effort, inked up and rarely wears anything except dick pants when he’s at home

August - 6’8” also very solid and a little broader than Curtis, nicknamed the hammer because he flattens anyone he’s up against

Ari - 6’8” a bit leaner but he’s still a rugby player, narrower in the hips and more of a runner

Steve - 6’7” rugged, vicious, can literally throw other dudes across the pitch with no effort

Bucky - 6’7” beefy, focused, catches whoever Steve tosses out of the scrum and pounds them into the ground

Lloyd - 6’6” but more lithe per his position, quick and precise, always thinks four moves ahead

Nick - 6’6” and bulky, picks up on defensive patterns easily

Hal - 6’5” and wicked fast, always a go to for ball handling (this isn’t a double entendre but hehe anyway)

Ransom - 6’5” and while still built, the leanest of the bunch, their go to jumper

Baddest:

Curtis & August - will pretty much always fuck you like they hate you, their goal is always to make you cry, and they will laugh at you once you do. They will call you the nastiest things and write them all over your skin before covering you in cum. And lets just say they do some things with used condoms before you’re finally worn down enough to stop insisting on them that are just, so mean

Lloyd - madly in love with you but hates that you think you need anything in your life except him, so his goal is to break you down until you’re completely dependent on him. Constantly slut shames you and tells you no one else would ever put up with all the perverted shit you secretly like (that he introduced you to but that’s not important). Expert at manipulating you to get exactly what he wants and loves watching you in utterly depraved situations

Ransom -while the boys higher on the list may be more obviously and physically mean, Ransom is devious and will lull you into a false sense of security before utterly ruining you. All it takes is one mistake or slip up for him to call you a dumb bitch and go off on how you can’t do anything right so now you have to make it up to him.

Ari - loves you almost as much as Lloyd does, but recognizes that the cruelty Lloyd takes out on you can be overwhelming, so he’s just a little softer in his degradation. Still calls you dummy and mentions how stupid and slutty you are, but in a much more endearing way. Ruins you with his dick though, let’s not kid ourselves

Nick - doesn’t really care about you much except for how good your holes feel, so he’s not exactly mean, but he’s not nice either. If you come, great, if you’re ruined by the end of his time with you, also good. But all he really wants is to pump his load into something warm. Do not tell him no though or he turns into a beast

Hal - thinks you’re incredibly adorable when you’re all fucked out, no matter how nasty of a state you’re in, and will take a shit ton of photos of you to show anyone he wants. Also loves making you cockwarm him or ride his thigh when you’re already ruined then will ask you a bunch of hard questions and laugh when you can’t think of the answer

Bucky and Steve - are the sneakiest in their meanness, because they love praising you while they’re inside you, but often when you’re telling them to stop and that it’s too much. They’re actually a couple but they love sharing a single tight hole and the fact that Lloyd has brought around a willing participant makes them giddy. You typically can’t walk after any time with them so they carry you around and take care of you like their own little doll. They are very attentive in their aftercare, though.

This was so much more info than I originally planned, whoops

Ask me anything about All of that Ultraviolence

#natalie answers #love my mutuals #all of that ultraviolence #asks are always open #lloyd hansen #ari levinson #curtis everett #august walker #ransom drysdale #hal carter #nick fowler #steve rogers #bucky barnes #chris evans #sebastian stan #henry cavill

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mickey-gomez · 1 year

Text

Rita Calhoun couples headcanons 2/?

Who reaches out to new neighbours?

You, but only if you run into them in the halls or the elevator. Does anyone ever really know their neighbours in Manhattan?

Who remembers to buy healthy food?

Rita. Despite hardly ever cooking she gets a weekly delivery of groceries and meals, she’ll make green juices and smoothies so you both get something into your system before leaving the house for the day. On the weekends if you both have the time you’ll stroll through the farmers market in Washington Market Park, buying fresh fruit and flowers.

Who remembers to buy junk food?

You, but you sneak it in the shopping when you don’t think she’s looking, and hide it where you don’t think she’ll find it in the house. She knows, she just lets you think she doesn’t. Also if you’re having a particularly bad day, she’ll drop by your office with pastries or cookies to cheer you up.

Who fixes the oven when it’s broken?

Neither of you. Rita calls someone to fix it.

Who waters the plants/feeds the pets?

Both of you. It depends on your schedules and who is home first. But you typically have indoor plants that don’t require a great deal of care, and the plants on the terrace have an in-built sprinkler system, or are taken care of by someone else.

Who wakes up earlier?

It depends. During the work week you both tend to wake up at the same time and share an alarm, on the weekends she’s more likely to wake before you. She’ll leave you to sleep in while she runs a couple of errands, and makes coffee to wake you up with.

Who makes the bed?

Whoever is last out of bed, but Rita will make her side if you’re still asleep.

Who makes the coffee?

Rita, and she’s very particular about it. She has a benchtop professional espresso machine, a french press, a moka pot, a pour-over, and an ibrik. She uses the espresso most mornings, but it’s all dependent on her mood, the beans, and her time. On Sundays she’ll use the pour-over or french press for the two of you while you read the paper, if it’s just her she’ll use the ibrik for herself.

Who burns the breakfast?

Rita. She can’t cook very well, but will try her hardest to make something more impressive than toast for you, and will end up getting distracted.

How do they let each other know they’re leaving the house?

You find one another out and let the other know, sharing a quick kiss. If you’re asleep, Rita will leave a note on your bedside table. If Rita is in the office you’ll scratch her shoulder lightly to gain her attention and let her know.

How do they greet each other when one of them gets home?

A quick kiss, and a conversation about how your days were. If one of you needs to vent you’ll pour out two glasses of wine, or scotch if the day calls for it, and relax into the couch as you listen to one another.

Who brings home little gifts like flowers/chocolates more often?

Rita. But you normally have fresh flowers in the house anyway, normally on the kitchen island or in the living room. She’ll buy you jewellery after a bonus from work, but she’s more likely to surprise you with hard to come by dinner reservations or gallery tickets.

Who picks the movie on movie night?

Both of you. If one of you has to work through a file, the other will pick. Or if there’s two different movies you both want to watch, you’ll play rock paper scissors to choose who gets to pick the movie. Rita normally lets you win though, able to read what move you’re going to use. She wraps you in her arms on the lounge and falls asleep behind you.

Their favourite kind of movie to watch?

She loves the classics, and would probably say either 12 Angry Men or To Kill a Mockingbird is her favourite film, but it’s actually My Cousin Vinny. Her go to pick would probably be a Humphrey Bogart or Katharine Hepburn film, or more likely a documentary, but if she wanted to switch off for a while it’d be a classic comedy.

Who first suggests a pillow fort?

You, but rarely if ever. Only maybe once or twice for a movie night, and only with the spare sheets and pillows, not the ones from your bed or the lounge, Rita would probably have an aneurysm if you did.

Who tries to distract the other during the movie?

Probably you, but unintentionally. You might remember something you wanted or had to tell her, and talk through the opening scenes. She’ll stop and pause the movie until you finish, then right after she hits play again you’ll remember something else, and she’ll give up on being able to pay attention to the screen.

Who falls asleep first

It depends on your days and your frames of mind. Normally you fall asleep around the same time because you’re wrapped up in one another’s arms. If you’re upset, Rita will wait until you fall asleep to close her eyes.

Who is the big spoon/little spoon?

Rita is almost always the big spoon. But every once in a while she’s the little spoon, when she’s had a tough day and wants to be held as she falls asleep.

Taglist: @storiesofsvu @alexusonfire @drduckthief @wannabe-fic-reader @imlike-so-gay-dude @fanfictionfangirl04 @annegilletteslostwhor3 @momlifebehard @holycrapraewth @giftedchildturns40 @ladysc @itwasrealtome @plccarter @when-wolves-howl @upsidedowndanvers @amarria_svufan @red1culous @summergeezburr

#rita calhoun #rita calhoun x reader #headcanon

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cyncerity · 1 year

Note

Soooooooo Cyn. I have da questions for your epic Au. :3

Even tho it’s not finished finished but I’m asking anyways!!!

Alright Wilbur is obviously our human boi but I want to know are they MK or are they the MK’s dad? (Do they even have a name?)

Depending on the answer to that depends on this question but how does Wilbur become small? Did a character die and bring him there? Orrrrr are we going for an Epic au that’s more built in the world of Epic rather than following the actual storyline of Epic? Like Wilbur is a scientist and somehow becomes small and meets Tommy? I’m very curious :3

Any ideas for characters you’d like to include or have in mind to include?

Yeah really I’d just like some of your thoughts about the au and to get a picture on your thoughts about it. No pressure tho!!! :3

Thanks for your time! Have some lollipops. 🍭🍭🍭

Wilbur is this au’s MK! MK’s dad (he has a name i just don’t remember it rn) is gonna be Kristin in this au cause i love her

He’s not exactly like MK, he ends up getting sent to his mom’s house for different reasons (that are somewhat important but shhh spoilers)

The au isn’t exactly like Epic, it doesn’t really follow the same story. No one dies to shrink Wilbur, but there is definitely magic involved. the same basic world building stays, too; there’s the bright and colorful area of the forest with the leafmen and the dark and decaying area for the Boggins (though there are gonna be some people that traverse these lines and don’t fit neatly into one place or the other 👀), and the two sides are in a major feud (though one side is extremely more hostile).

I will tell you tho that Wilbur definitely does not shrink on purpose lol. In fact, due to the nature of why he’s even out in the woods in the first place, it’s pretty bad that he has to go on this giant adventure. That sounds confusing as fuck, sorry but i swear it’ll make sense eventually. Kristin, however, does have MK’s dad’s obsession with little people cause i think it’s funny.

Anyway i’ve already said that Tommy is a leafman and Ranboo is a boggin, but i should also mention that Phil is here too and he’s Tommy’s father, and Techno is Phil’s head knight and Tommy’s occasional bodyguard. Phil and Tommy are kinda high ranked in the forest. Em duo are both leaf men as well. The feral boys are also here, and I can’t give away what all of them are, but I will say that Dream is a boggin too. Tubbo is also here but i won’t say what he is yet cause 1. i’m not fully decided and 2. if he ends up being what i think he’s gonna be, he’s gonna be one of those characters who doesn’t fit neatly into one side of the forest.

And thank you for asking, i’ve been thinking about this au a lot, i love to ramble hskdlsjshk

thank you for the lollipops have some donuts!

🍩 🍩 🍩

#cyncerity #mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #Epic AU #every time i type ‘epic au’ the main tag it pulls up for me to use is ‘epic autism moment’#which is very very funny to me #idk if i’ll make a quick comic to explain lore or write something but ig only time will tell >:)

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eemcintyre · 2 months

Text

Lowermost (Steff McKay)

TW- period and character-appropriate but very much not good attitudes; drug and alcohol abuse, references to SA, use of the f-slur, brief and not-graphic mentions of blood. There's also a fair amount of black comedy.

Summary- After the disastrous events of his senior year of high school, Steff finds himself totally alone and lost. Struggling to make his way through college, he has a breakdown during a party that is private until another troubled partygoer intrudes.

Yeah that's right I changed his last name slightly bc I just think McKee is such a fkin stupid name and it doesn't fit him and this is my world here and y'all are just living in it. Anyway, not to be so dramatic lol; I hope you enjoy the first part to this very random tale for a very random character and actor that I adore- I've had an idea similar to this for a long time. Also I envision the main girl as Elisabeth Shue in all of her 80s glory.

Some say that high school is the best time of your life, and up until the very end, Steff McKay would have agreed.

Right up until a couple of weeks before the end of senior year, when everything he had built for himself imploded. His untouchably cool, do-not-fuck-with-me reputation. Any chance with the girl who’d kept him up at night for over a year and whom he pictured fucking the shit out of instead of whoever else was underneath him. The only real friendship he’d ever had. Those two, the girl and the friend, had left the prom together, and as far as he knew, they could be engaged or married by now- but, more than likely, they’d broken up days later. Steff couldn’t help an anemic smirk at the thought. It was a small satisfaction, but a satisfaction nonetheless, and he was taking that anywhere he could get it right now.

The first year at Stanford had not gone well. By bribing a few classmates, he’d barely been able to scrape by and keep his parents, far away back in Illinois, none the wiser, but he knew that this strategy wouldn’t prove sustainable over the course of three more years.

No longer having any concrete idea of who he was or was supposed to become, Steff filled the vacuum with an already familiar coping mechanism- copious amounts of drugs and alcohol. But what had been, for the most part, a party indulgence and a way to take the edge off in high school, had morphed into full-blown, constant dependency. He needed them to get out of bed in the morning, to recover from the first half of the day and prepare for the second, and then to either kick back and close the day out or keep himself going long into the night. The partying habit hadn’t died out with graduation.

The particular rager taking place this evening was the end-of-summer/start-of-semester bash to inaugurate sophomore year amongst his social group. But, for Steff, it was hardly a celebration. After bidding his cursory hellos over the sonic blast of Depeche Mode, he lingered by the beverage table, downing enough to make some belligerent remarks to anyone who dared ask questions and still barely be able to slink away to a frat house bathroom.

Stumbling through the doorway, and not even bothering to lock the door, he dry-heaved over the toilet for a few minutes before crawling to the sink to splash the sweat off of his face. His reflection was pale-green and shiny under the frigid, blue-white light over the fingerprint-smeared mirror. Positively feral. He was a god amongst men and a dying star.

Some nights, even with all the tolerance he’d built, the alcohol still just hit him wrong. Rather than grant the brief, freeing apathy and oblivion that he craved, sometimes it had the opposite effect of bringing the memories, pressures, and fears even closer to closing in on him. And the latter was occurring with greater frequency all the time.

Just when Steff thought he’d fallen to the lowest level of emptiness that he would reach that evening, the bottom dropped out again and he could feel it in his stomach. One hand white-knuckling the counter, he reached up with the other to yank at his hair- sunny blond, always perfectly coiffed- like he wanted to rip a chunk out. And he almost did. His hand flew down to his starched white shirt, shaking fingers fisting in it as he glared at himself in the mirror, Depeche Mode still intruding obnoxiously on the moment in the background.

Steff was not a crier. Crying was for girls and fucking faggots and for the privacy of a man’s own home, only if one’s close relative had died or something. But something about the revolting sight of himself in that almost equally as disgusting bathroom made his emotions boil over into a couple of small, hot, stinging tears. It was rage, it was terror, it was a sickening, endless merry-go-round that he couldn’t get off, it was floating and free-falling in utter directionless-ness…

Without thinking, like it was an instinctive response to a threatening stimulus, he slung his fist at the mirror, hoping it would shatter. Reeling back in pain, he was absolutely shocked and devastated to see that he’d merely managed to cause a small crack.

“God fucking damn it!” He roared through his teeth, trying to shake off the pain that smarted across his knuckles.

As he stood doubled-over in pain and indignity, the door to the bathroom swung open, snatching away the one small barrier between him and the blaring sounds of the party and revealing a girl. Wavy, dirty-blonde hair, freckles and patches of pink-red punctuating her round and otherwise pale face. What could have otherwise been a normal, even appealing outfit of shorts and a cable knit, was rumpled and hung askew from one of her shoulders.

At first, Steff thought she just didn’t know how to dress and apply makeup, but as they stared at each other in surprise, neither one expecting to find the other, he realized that the color on her face was a discomforted flush rather than poorly-applied powder. She began hastily pulling her top back over her shoulder and smoothed her hair as the initial shock wore off of them both.

“Excuse me?” Steff prompted, in a tone that he hoped would make his annoyance evident. He tried to surreptitiously wipe his face and steady his breathing. Nothing was amiss here.

“Sorry,” she replied vacantly, catching sight of the mirror and stepping toward it. He detected a slight limp. Finally, he noticed that one of her knees was scratched and bloodied. She looked like she’d just escaped a brawl. Taking in her disheveled appearance, tracing her fingers across her bleeding knee, she winced.

“Excuse me,” he repeated even more pointedly, crossing his arms. “Do you mind? This isn’t a social gathering place.”

The girl slowly appeared to register what he was saying; she acted as if she were trying to contact him from an entirely different world.

“You’re bleeding,” she murmured, concern flickering in her eyes, one of which showed smeared mascara.

His gaze snapping down to his knuckles, confirming what she said to be true, Steff defensively turned himself so that the hand with the wound was hidden behind his body.

“So are you,” he snapped in an admittedly weak comeback. “Don’t you even know how to knock? The hell are you doing in here? Get out!” he bellowed, and her posture shrunk, though she continued to study herself in the mirror.

Making eye contact with him via the reflective surface, she murmured “The door was unlocked. I’m sorry, I just need a minute… This, um, hasn’t been a very fun party.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” he retorted as she began to wash the smeared makeup off her face, still very much in the room and not getting the fuck out for some reason. “You know, you look like you just crawled out of a storm drain.”

Taking some of the faucet water from her cupped hand to her mouth, she aggressively swished and rinsed it, spitting repeatedly into the sink like she was trying to wash out a bad taste.

“I look like I just almost got assaulted,” she corrected him bitterly, “Which would be true.” She dried her hands and lips with the worn towel by the basin, clenching her jaw like she was about to cry before sucking in a deep breath and nodding almost imperceptibly at how she’d put her appearance back together. “Should have known there’s only one reason I would get invited to a party like this.”

“I’m not here to play unpaid therapist…” Steff muttered, and her shoulders sagged in frustration.

“Look, I said I’m sorry for disturbing you, but since, obviously, neither one of us wants to be at this party and we’re both clearly going through something, can’t we share?” She gestured to the room around them. “We don’t have to talk. I just need a minute…”

“You’ve had a minute; you’ve had several minutes- go think about sucking frat boy cock somewhere else!”

Her mouth fell open in utter disgust, and finally one of the tears that she’d kept from falling thus far tumbled down her cheek. Out of so many retorts she wanted to spit at him, all that she could manage in her fragile state was a “Fuck you!” before storming out of the dingy little room and back out into the chaos of the party.

“Close the damn door!” he shouted after her, slamming it as hard as he could and propping himself against it as he sunk to the tile floor, nursing his bloodied hand.

#james spader #steff from pretty in pink #pretty in pink #creative writing #enemies to lovers

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