#despite this and how nobody actually tries to help her because most of the staff and everybody in charge of her are all racist and actively | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

writertitan · 3 years

Text

Grandfather Clock (III)

pairing: levi x f!reader

word count: 7068 (oops)

themes: adult f!reader, arranged marriage, multi-part fic, levi is a stubborn asshole at first, no love at first sight here folks

a/n: the final part!! enjoy!!!

Read Part 1 Here

Read Part 2 Here

On the 20th day of Levi’s engagement to you, he found himself tense, frowning, and sitting across a less than pleased Erwin, right in the commander’s office.

Erwin sat at his desk, deep discontent written all over his face, with his arms folded tightly across his broad chest.

Levi knew the scolding was coming and cursed himself in his head for being so careless. He hadn’t really meant too much by it. Mike had just been asking him how things were going as they walked down the hall together and the words had just tumbled out. Levi didn’t like talking about his personal life in general, mostly because he had hardly had one prior to getting engaged, but now he was extra wary.

“Not much to tell. Just thankful she agreed not to have an actual wedding and to prolong it as long as possible.”

That was all he’d said and he’d said it with a tone of finality that Mike understood well. It was the tone that warned not to push it any farther.

It was just Levi’s luck that Erwin had rounded the corner as the words left him. The commander had bristled as he processed what Levi had said and then blurted out that he needed to see the shorter man immediately, in his office.

Levi had never seen Mike hurry off so quickly before.

And now here he was, tense and waiting for Erwin to lash out at him.

The words came moments later, but Levi didn’t get yelled at, which made him feel worse. Erwin was quiet, stern, and very open with his disappointment.

“Is it true? You really asked that of her?”

“Yes,” Levi sighed, running a hand over his tired face. “I did.”

“You didn’t even consult me about it. Levi, I hope you know I’m trying to grant you as much freedom as I can in this situation, but this was out of line. I’m sorry, but you don’t have that kind of say.”

Erwin’s words made Levi wince a little, but he tried to keep a stoic face. He could see that the commander was waiting for him to say something, but Levi didn’t quite know what to say.

He thought of you for a moment, and thought about how confused he’d been lately, and then looked at Erwin with a hint of a frown.

“You’ve hardly given us any freedom,” he blurted out, and then cursed himself yet again. He’d used the word “us” instead of “me” and he knew that Erwin would catch wind of that.

He did, and he even seemed to soften up a bit, raising a brow curiously.

And then Erwin used you as ammunition.

“You’ve stripped away any semblance of choice left for her by making her agree to your terms. She has even less freedom than you. Is that what you wanted?” Erwin asked, but the question was more rhetorical than anything.

Levi’s frown grew deeper. His mind went back to you, how broken you’d looked when he’d said he didn’t want a wedding day, and how he wanted to wait as long as possible to actually be married. And then his mind took him to that day you were feeling unwell, and how that same broken expression appeared when he’d gotten upset with you.

His chest grew heavy when he realized he had helped in breaking you.

And even worse, he hadn’t gone back to visit you after that day, when you had fainted. It had spurred too many mixed emotions in him and he had wanted the space to clear his head. And you had confirmed you were still unwell in your most recent letter to him from yesterday.

But maybe you were lying. Maybe Levi had broken you so much that you wanted to start keeping your distance from him.

That’s what he wanted, right?

Is that what you wanted?

Erwin’s unanswered question echoed in his mind.

If that was what he’d wanted, why did he feel this way, so horrible, after being called out by Erwin?

“I just don’t know what to do,” Levi finally said, unable to meet Erwin’s gaze.

Erwin hummed and sat back in his chair, arms now unfolded as he looked at Levi. The conversation had gone way beyond Levi’s little mistake. As much as he wanted to help his friend, there was a reason Erwin had been wandering the halls. He had, in fact, been searching for Levi. And he had, in fact, been wanting to discuss the topic of you. It had been mere coincidence that Erwin had caught Levi’s confession.

“Talk to her,” Erwin said, eyes on Levi, who was still looking anywhere but at him. “And I’d suggest going today. There was a reason I’ve been looking for you.”

At that, Levi flickered his eyes to Erwin, a hint of curiosity in them. And, dare Erwin say, even a little bit of worry hid behind the silver.

“Well, spit it out,” Levi said, already making to stand up. “What happened? Is something wrong?”

Erwin also stood up, slowly and deliberately, and didn’t know how to answer that.

“There’s been some...civil unrest recently. Some of the working class citizens have been getting riled up because of some recent unfortunate events with the upper class,” Erwin explained, watching carefully for Levi’s reaction. “Some of my intel has told me there’s talk of a few riots being planned.”

“What kind of ‘unfortunate events’ are you talking about?” Levi pressed, arms at his side with hands clenched into fists. This didn’t sound good.

“Seems like your fiancee’s father has been in some bad business deals that affected a lot of his workforce. And he’s got quite the workforce, if you remember,” Erwin murmured, looking a little thoughtful as he tried to gage Levi’s reaction. “I was looking for you to tell you that I’d like for you to go and check on things. I’m not sure how extreme the situation is.”

Levi was already halfway out of the office and didn’t bother to answer. He was, without a doubt, upset.

Upset that Erwin didn’t let him know about this immediately.

Upset that it would take a while to get to you.

And, curiously, he was upset that he was upset. What the hell was going on with him?

In your parlor room, you were curled up on the sofa and reading your favorite book. It took all your willpower to try not to think about how, just a few days ago, Levi had touched those very same pages.

He’d kept his distance since then, though you had certainly had some part in that by sending him a note to say you were still sick. It wasn’t true at all and you’d felt almost back to normal the next day, but you couldn’t really face Levi yet. Despite forgiving him and allowing yourself to have a little bit of hope that things would turn out okay for the two of you, it was obvious that Levi was still on the fence with you, and had a very specific opinion about who you were despite not getting to know you.

You were using this time away from him to think of ways to show him that you weren’t that way at all, and that his impression of you was, truthfully, completely off the mark.

As the grandfather clock sounded off at noon, it brought you back to reality. You set your book down, not that you’d actually been reading much of it, and sighed when your stomach grumbled. Definitely lunchtime.

You stood up and stretched, about to walk to the kitchen and bother Chef Erlo when you realized something seemed...off.

The clock struck noon for a final time and you realized that that was the only sound you could really hear from all over the house. Silence engulfed you when the grandfather clock stopped, and you peered out into the hallway, baffled when you saw absolutely nobody in sight.

Feeling like you couldn’t break the silence, you stayed quiet as a mouse as you made your way to the kitchen, hoping to hear the usual bustle of noise there for lunch. Maybe that’s where everyone was. It was lunchtime, after all. Had you forgotten it was somebody’s birthday? Sometimes you’d sneak the staff into the servant’s quarters for a bit of a break and have a little birthday celebration during lunch, but you were sure nobody’s big day was today.

But you didn’t make it to the kitchen. As you got closer to the foyer, you could hear the commotion outside, interrupting the eerie silence in your home. Instead of going to check on things, curiosity got the best of you and you ended up peering out the window to see what was going on. A little gasp left your lips when you saw what was outside.

Hoards of people were at the gates of your home, screaming and shouting profanities as they tried to make their way inside. Your heart sped up at the sight, absolutely terrified at the pure hatred they all wore on their faces. You couldn’t really make out what they were all saying, but you heard the profanities, and you heard your father’s name enough times to know that this was personal.

The guards situated outside at the gate were pushing back as much as they could, and you even see that some of the Garrison soldiers had come to help out, but the crowd seemed to be growing bigger and bigger by the second. At any moment, it would bubble over and spill past the gates of your home.

Right to you.

Once again, after a lifetime of avoiding your father and his business to try and escape it, you were being dragged right into the middle of it instead.

You had to run. The anger outside was something that was almost tangible; you could feel it weighing heavily in the air even from where you stood inside your home. No doubt that someone would try to hurt you just in the belief that it would hurt your father to know they’d gotten to you.

For a brief moment, Levi flashed through your mind, and you sincerely regretted lying to him about still feeling unwell when his face popped to the front of your head. Maybe he would have helped you. Maybe not. The anger you could feel from the crowd outside was unfortunately similar to the anger Levi had bestowed upon you just a few days ago.

As you backed away from the window, you thought of all the different places you could go to hide. So lost in your thoughts, you didn’t register the footsteps sneaking up behind you and gasped when a hand clamped against your mouth to keep you quiet.

Before you could try and scream, a familiar voice whispered in your ear, “Shh, it’s only me. Let’s go.”

You whirled around, tears of relief springing to your eyes as you hugged Greta tightly.

“Greta,” you breathed out shakily, pulling away to look at her with wide eyes. “What’s going on?”

“Let’s not talk here, come on,” she whispered, tugging you towards the servant’s quarters, where you knew the wine cellar was situated. As soon as the door was closed and locked behind the two of you, Greta practically dragged you down the stairs. It was cooler down there and you shivered involuntarily.

There was dim candlelight at the end of the steps that lit up a narrow hallway, one that led towards a heavy wooden door. Chef Erlo was there holding a candelabra with one hand, a silver key in the other.

Your tears of relief spilled over at the sight of him.

“Erlo,” you whimpered, moving to hug him as well. He was just as quick about it as Greta was, gently stepping away from you with a small and sympathetic smile.

“We’ll get you out of here safely, miss,” he promised you.

A pang of fear hit you and you looked between Erlo and Greta, hand at your chest as you thought of the worst.

“And everyone else? Is everyone okay?” you asked them.

From above, you heard glass shattering and heavy thumps. Your heart pounded so hard against your chest that you worried your ribs would crack from the force. The fear you felt in that moment was unparalleled, unmatched by any other situation in your life. You’d never been this scared in your entire life.

“Everyone is safe. Except for you,” Greta said, and she nodded for Erlo to open the door. He unlocked it and hurried you both inside, but you stopped in your tracks when you saw Erlo wasn’t following.

“I’m going to lock the door behind me and slip the key under the crack. That should buy you some time,” he said to Greta, avoiding your gaze.

“What are you talking about? You’re coming with us, it’s not safe here! Something’s happening outside, people are angry and I don’t know why,” you rambled, tearing up again. Greta reached over to squeeze your hand, but everything about it was rushed, too hurried to really be a comfort to you.

Erlo flashed you another small smile, and then gave you a wink, his crow’s feet prominent as he finally flashed his goofy smile.

“I’ll be fine, miss. Don’t worry about me. It’s not me they’re after,” he assured you, but it didn’t make you feel any better.

Chef Erlo was like the father you’d never had. It was impossible to allow him to do this, but Greta held you back as he shut the door and locked it once again, with the key slipping underneath moments later.

Greta let go of you to swipe it off the ground, and then began to push you forward, nearly in the dark save for cracks of light at the door opposite the room.

The faint smell of wine permeated the air and you found yourself wishing for a glass to calm your nerves. Greta led you to the door in just a few moments flat, using the same key to unlock it and hurry through with you in tow.

It was the bulkhead entrance to the wine cellar, where the merchants would come deliver or take some wine. Part of your father’s business. It was where a lot of things were delivered. On the few steps there beneath the wooden doors, there was a maid’s dress and some worn shoes. One look at Greta told you that the new outfit was for you, so you wasted no time in nearly tearing off your dress and kicking off your shoes to put on the much simpler garments and better blend in outside without striking too much attention to yourself. Your current outfit would have been a dead giveaway to your status.

Greta lifted one of the doors up just enough to peer out cautiously as you changed, making sure it was safe to leave. Once she was sure it was, she nodded to you and lifted the door up quietly, keeping it lifted for you to hop up the short steps and out into the spring afternoon.

It was cloudy outside, threatening to rain. As if on cue, a crack of thunder sounded and you felt it was remarkably similar to a cliche in your favorite novel; it always rained whenever your favorite character was feeling upset.

You didn’t have much time to dwell on that. Greta gripped you by the elbow and tugged you away from the house in a pace that was rushed but not too much that it looked suspicious. Now that you were wearing new clothes, you looked like everyone else outside. There was no real need to rush and risk getting caught.

Nobody paid the two of you any mind. The real focus was on your house that was currently getting ransacked.

The sight made your heart sink to your stomach, but your tears had already dried.

It was true that these people were destroying the only home you’d ever known. It was true that in that moment, you were sure you’d never go back to it. But you just couldn’t find it in you to cry about this. Your tears were reserved for your staff and worrying about their wellbeing.

Whatever your father had done, it probably deserved this level of outrage.

Although you were filled to the brim with fear and adrenaline, above all, you felt a peculiar sense of freedom as more and more people pushed their way past the gates of your home to run inside.

Greta gave you a moment to watch the scene before steering you away with promises to explain everything as soon as she got you to safety.

The only time tears actually did threaten your eyes again was when Captain Levi’s face pushed its way into your mind once more.

Maybe you would never see him again. And maybe he’d like that.

Levi was all too familiar with feeling dread settle in his stomach and harden like a rock. He’d experienced it all his life, countless times as he watched comrades die, often such a big part of his nightmares and the reason for his insomnia.

He didn’t expect to feel that rock in his stomach as he approached your home. Rather, what was left of it.

But he felt it settle in his stomach, a dread so heavy that he almost had to hunch over, and he looked on in horror as people continued to run in and out of your home. Many people were running out with valuables in their arms. Others were running inside just to destroy everything in sight.

He was far too late, by the look of things.

His eyes darted around, a futile attempt to locate you, but of course he didn’t see you anywhere.

Soldiers and guards were doing what they could, and Levi could see reinforcements marching in, but it was too late.

It was too late.

Levi hopped off his horse and pushed past people and soldiers alike as he ran into your home, taking in the sight of broken glass and ruined furniture and banged up walls.

It was disgusting.

He went to your room first and only found it ravaged and empty with no signs of life.

Levi knew he was being crazy. Of course he wasn’t going to just find you there. In fact, the thought of seeing you in the middle of all this would have actually been worse. But not knowing where you were had his stomach in knots.

As a last resort, he checked the parlor room, where you’d shared an afternoon that had left Levi questioning himself and questioning you. Mostly himself.

He got there as the grandfather clock chimed at the top of the hour. It was just as ravaged as your room, but curiously enough, he noticed your favorite novel on the ground by where the side table used to be.

He picked it up and clutched it tightly, and then made a promise.

He would find you and he would get your book back to you. It was the only possession you had left in the world, he realized, looking around.

He’d find you.

He wouldn’t rest until he’d found you.

A cup of tea warmed your hands as silence filled the room of Greta’s mother’s kitchen.

The two women stared at you with so much sympathy, and so much worry, that it made you feel loved and yet also a little small at the same time.

Greta had just finished explaining everything to you.

Your father had been atrocious, and had taken advantage of his employees. He was in protective custody because he’d anticipated this riot to happen. Nobody knew where your mother was. It was a miracle that Greta and Erlo had managed to help you and everyone else out before you’d gotten hurt. Or killed.

And now you didn’t know what would happen next.

Your spirits, already low, dimmed even more at the thought of Chef Erlo. You desperately hoped he was okay, and hopefully he was. After all, he’d been correct: nobody was trying to hurt him. Only you and your family.

“Are you sure everybody made it out safely?” you whispered to Greta, who immediately nodded.

“Everyone’s been aware of some of the...tensions around town,” she explained. “We all had an exit plan in the works, just didn’t realize we’d have to implement it so soon.”

You flashed a brief and sad smile, nodding once as you took a sip of your tea.

“Thank you for getting everyone out safely first. It means the world to me.”

In your mind, you were just as responsible for your father’s sins as he was. To think you didn’t even have a clue of what was going on. It was embarrassing.

As if reading your mind, Greta’s mother, May, reached forward to squeeze your arm reassuringly.

“It’s not your fault, darling,” she murmured. “It wasn’t your place to know.”

You sighed softly and kept your eyes on your tea, frowning to yourself. It was true that you had basically been forced to be cooped up in the house, and now you were thinking there was a clear reason behind it now. You hardly had much say in your day to day schedule, especially after getting engaged to Captain Levi. Still, it didn’t feel good to be so in the dark.

And the thought of Captain Levi sent your heart aflutter. Did he know? Had he been aware of this the whole time? Was this part of the reason for your arrangement?

Slowly, you picked up your gaze from your tea to settle on Greta, biting the inside of your cheek before asking the question you were dreading to ask.

“What happens now?”

She didn’t look too sure either as she pondered your question, finally settling for shrugging her shoulders.

“I don’t know, miss,” she answered honestly. “I hate to say it, but it depends on your father. He and your mother will start looking for you once they realize you’re missing.”

The thought made you nauseous. Despite such a horrible outcome of your day, that peculiar feeling of freedom had been what kept you going. There was some sort of thrill attached to it.

You realized it was achingly similar to the hope you felt for your arrangement for Levi. The chance of things looking up, turning around.

All this hope and nothing to show for it.

Now you were hopeless.

News had gotten to Erwin quickly. Levi saw the commander ride in with other squad leaders as he helped beat down and arrest some of the rowdier citizens at your home. He hated to be there and wanted to go off and find you more than anything, but someone there had to have seen you, or seen what happened to you.

So far, nobody seemed to remember seeing you. In fact, some people had sworn to him that the house had been empty of people the entire time. Not a soul in the home at all.

When Erwin stepped past the gates, Levi had never wanted to pummel him so badly. Instead, he shoved a badly beaten merchant towards his commander with a growl, eyes nearly feral as he found the calm blue ones that he hated more than anything at the moment.

“You said there was civil unrest. You didn’t say there was an entire fucking mob,” he snapped.

Erwin remained calm, casually stepping over the merchant to get closer to Levi.

“Seems I was deceived,” he admitted, looking around. “Her father kept me in the dark. I had no idea about any of this. But I suppose you’ll be pleased to hear that I’m calling off the deal. We can’t tarnish the Scouts’ reputation even more by doing business with this family.”

Levi’s body went cold at the news.

Just a couple of weeks ago, he would have felt nothing but pure relief. Now, he felt nothing but pure dread.

“What about…?”

Levi couldn’t even say your name. It caught at the back of his throat and he struggled to breathe. He tried his best to remain as stoic as always, but Erwin knew him so well, and could see the concern at the edges of Levi’s gaze.

“There’s not much protection we can offer her, being her father’s daughter. She’s under his control,” Erwin reminded him. “Do you know where she is? I heard she’s declared missing.”

Levi nodded once to confirm, his worry amplifying at Erwin’s words.

He couldn’t protect you. Not while you were still affiliated with your father.

“People are saying that nobody was in the house,” Levi said, giving the commander a rundown of events. “I did a quick search, didn’t find any of the staff. No one was around.”

Erwin hummed a little, hands behind his back as he took in the sight of the damaged house in front of him.

“No surprise there. Our man of the hour is already in protective custody, having predicted this well before anyone else, and his wife was visiting with a friend, and now they’re all in protective custody as well. It’s just your ex-fiancee that we’re having trouble locating. Perhaps she’s with her staff.”

How stupid of him. Levi hadn’t really thought of that possibility yet. He’d been so focused on finding you, assuming the worst, that he hadn't taken the time to really think it through enough to realize that you were missing along with the staff.

Erwin was already five steps ahead of them.

“Some of the scouts are off to find the staff members that don’t live here in-house. One of them is bound to know where she is.”

Levi couldn’t help the small sigh of relief that left him, but he still felt useless if he wasn’t doing more to help. Without another word to Erwin, he marched off to do another quick search around the entire perimeter.

Some medics had come onto the scene as well and he was surprised to see a couple of them towards the back of the house, dragging someone out of the cellar. Levi had admittedly not really looked down there, knowing all there was, was food storage and wine cellar that someone had told him was all cleared out by now.

A familiar old man was getting dragged out and treated. He was badly beaten, bruised from head to toe, and his breathing was raspy and uneven.

Levi knew him to be a staff member and his heart skipped a beat.

Before he knew what he was doing, he was kneeling beside the old man, shaking him to get his attention despite the angry protests of a medic.

The old man opened his eyes and grimaced, but his face grew soft at the sight of Levi.

“Captain Levi,” he greeted him in a hoarse voice. “You’re a little late, don’t you think?”

“Where is she?” Levi asked, voice soft. “Do you know?”

“I know,” the man confirmed, nodding slowly as his eyes closed. “Greta...Greta took her. She’s...with Greta’s mother. But don’t know where...she lives.”

Greta. Levi knew that name. It was the name of one of the maids. You looked to be friends with her.

“Thank you,” he said, very sincere, before standing back up. More determined than ever, he made a beeline for his horse, a plan of action already formulating in his mind. He could make do with the information given to him. It was all he needed.

He was going to find you.

The sun hung low in the sky as May and Greta made up Greta’s old bed for you.

You had insisted on sleeping anywhere else, even the floor, but Greta had already set her mind on sharing a bed with her mother.

“I shared a bed with one of the other maids all the time, whenever we felt like it,” she told you. “I actually like it. It’s nice having another person there with you.”

You still felt a little guilty but stayed silent, and opted instead to watch the sun lower through the window of Greta’s childhood bedroom after being shooed off.

Greta and her mother chattered amongst themselves and you didn’t have the heart to join in just yet. You felt so drained after the day’s events that you couldn’t muster up the energy they had.

What kept you so anxious was also the thought of having to stay under your father’s thumb.

It was maddening to know that after everything, he still had your life in his hands. To be a highborn lady was to be in shackles.

A plan was starting to formulate in your mind, one where you could fake your death and run away and find work as a maid or maybe even a governess. Greta could help and confirm that you’d been taken, never to be seen again. You could grab your clothes that you’d discarded, if they were still around, and maybe douse them in animal blood or something, to really sell it.

But your plan was cut short with a pounding at the front door downstairs. The knocking was so intense that all three of you froze and looked between each other, fear prickling your spines.

When the door clearly sounded like it was trying to be opened, May sprang into action and ran downstairs, which kickstarted your adrenaline. You ran after her, afraid for her possibly getting hurt, reaching out for her to try and stop her from going any farther.

“May, no!” you hissed, eyes on the front door that was now in view. Someone was slamming into it, the lock jiggling unsteadily, until it finally gave in.

You were paralyzed in fear as the door flew open, but fear gave way to shock at the sight of Captain Levi at the entrance, looking frazzled. You would have never predicted you’d ever see him as anything other than composed or angry.

As soon as your eyes locked, you ran to him.

“Captain Levi!”

He stopped you before you could throw your arms around him and, at first, you felt embarrassed by it, taking it as a rejection.

It wasn’t until he started examining you, hands lifting and twisting your arms and turning your face this way and that, that you felt your heart warm up.

“Are you hurt?” he asked. He was cupping your face, holding your jaw familiar as his eyes scanned your face for any signs of injury, and that frazzled look he held only softened when his eyes finally met yours.

You shook your head slowly, keeping his gaze, hands shyly reaching up to cover his over your jaw.

“I’m not hurt,” you whispered. “Just scared.”

Levi frowned and reluctantly let go of your face, but his hands didn’t travel far. He rested them on your shoulders while your hands gently gripped his forearms, the two of you in your own little bubble.

“You don’t have to be scared anymore,” he promised you, sounding so earnest. “Nobody can hurt you while I’m here.”

Your bottom lip quivered, emotional at the thought of him willingly protecting you, but also emotional at the more sinister situation at hand.

“My father can,” you told him, squeezing his forearms as the words left your mouth. “Greta says he’ll be looking for me soon. I can’t escape him.”

Levi’s eyes hardened at that, grip also tightening on your shoulders, before he groaned and stepped away from you to run a hand over his face.

“Erwin said the same thing to me,” he admitted, pacing back and forth. He briefly looked towards Greta and her mother, then to the now broken front door, and blankly stared at them before muttering, “I’ll fix that.”

He turned back to you, arms crossed, as he took on a look of deep concentration. It was only there for a few moments before he snapped out of it, holding your gaze as he seemed to come to a conclusion.

“You can’t be under your father’s control once you’re married,” he pointed out.

At first, you didn’t understand. You raised a brow, a little peeved he was bringing it up, and nodded once.

“I suppose so…,” you agreed, a hint of a frown on your face. “But I’m assuming we won’t be getting married after this, so I’m kind of shit out of luck.” It was the first time you’d really sworn like that in front of Levi. In front of anyone. It was nice.

Levi tensed up a little and broke his eye contact with you to look away, and you could have sworn he looked a little flustered. There was a hint of pink at the tips of his ears, which shocked you.

“What?” you pressed, also feeling a bit of heat creep into your face.

This wasn’t happening. No way this was happening.

Levi hadn’t wanted to marry you even when it was basically required of him.

Your hopeless romantic little heart was just playing tricks on you. He wasn’t possibly going to suggest…

“I gave my word and I don’t intend on going back on it,” he said, still not looking at you, ears still pink. “Got any better ideas?”

“Captain Levi…,” you began, but then trailed off, not knowing what to say, until finally you managed out, “You don’t have to do this.”

He scoffed a little, eyes finally flickering back to you. Tentatively, he stepped forward until he was right in front of you again. You stayed perfectly still as he lifted a hand to place it on top of your head, giving you a small pat before ruffling up your hair.

“I have something for you,” he said suddenly, taking his hand away to reach into the pocket of his coat.

And then your favorite novel was in your hands, a little more crumpled up than usual but basically intact.

Tears sprang to your eyes and you hugged the book to your chest gratefully, looking to Levi with nothing but adoration.

At that moment, it was all you owned in the world. You didn’t even own the clothes on your back.

“That was really nice,” you choked out, gazing down at the book again with a small smile.

Levi stepped forward again, closing the distance between you as he rested a hand on your shoulder again.

“Let me protect you,” he said, tone filled with an air of finality that you couldn’t argue with. “I know I don’t have to.”

He didn’t have to say the actual words; you understood what he meant.

I want to.

Marriage was all about compromise.

In the end, Levi didn’t get to prolong his nuptials, since marrying you had to be done quickly. However, it also had to be done in secret. So, at the very least, you figured he at least got half of his wishes respected.

The moment the ink was dry on the certificate, you felt a weight lift off your shoulders. You shed your maiden name to gain a new surname, fully protected from your father now and fully backed by the Survey Corps. It was your 30th day of knowing Levi. Your 1st day of being married.

You took in a deep breath as Erwin took the document from you to sign as a witness, and you turned to Levi with a small and timid smile, which he actually tried to return. It was brief, but it was appreciated. And when he lifted his hand to pat your head affectionately, you melted a little.

“I’m sorry you didn’t have a big wedding like you wanted,” he murmured, eyes staring at you with a hint of remorse. “I should have never made you agree to that before.”

A half-smile tugged at one corner of your mouth and you shook your head, nudging your shoulder to his playfully.

“I never really wanted to have a big wedding,” you admitted to him. “I just wanted to have a special day for myself. And for my husband, of course. Didn’t have to be a big thing. It just needed to be special.”

Levi seemed to lighten up at that, giving another brief smile before murmuring, “That’s a relief.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, but he didn’t respond, choosing instead to stand up and offer a hand to help you on your feet as well.

You smoothed down the cream dress Greta had so kindly let you borrow and followed Levi out the door, head held a little higher now that you were an official Ackerman and nothing else. Instead of going to Commander Erwin’s office to go over a few next steps like originally planned, you found yourself following Levi outside.

“Where are we going?” you asked, puzzled, but Levi scoffed a little and turned to look at you from over his shoulder.

“If you could just be a little patient, I promise you’ll find out soon enough,” he said.

It was a beautiful day, you had to admit. The spring temperature was perfect and you basked in the sunlight, feeling freer than you’d ever felt before.

You stepped onto the grass in the courtyard, eyes towards the sky, and it wasn’t until you heard several people clear their throat that you tilted your head down to take a look.

Your heart nearly stopped as you saw Erlo, Greta, May, and Charlie, and some of Levi’s friends, sitting on the grass, a spread of what looked like a marvelous lunch in front of them.

Shouts of congratulations were passed around and you lit up at the sight, heart feeling full as you stumbled over while dragging Levi along.

You turned to him, eyes bright and excited, still not quite understanding.

“What is this?” you asked, looking between your bubble of friends and your brand new spouse.

Levi looked a little uncomfortable, but in that cute way, and Greta beat him to the punch with the answer.

“It’s your wedding day, so we’re celebrating, of course!” she laughed, then nodded towards Levi with a cunning grin. “It was your husband’s idea.”

Levi’s entire face flushed at the term but he also looked murderous at being found out.

You grinned at him, feeling warmed at his gesture, and you made a mental note to pull him aside later for a real thank you.

At that moment, you made do by sneaking a kiss to his cheek, fully appreciating the way he got flustered.

Erwin had made up a new room for you at base and, after a full day’s worth of celebrating your wedding day, you were ready to fall into bed.

The room was right next to Levi’s, which you appreciated. It seemed funny, almost, since of course spouses typically shared a room, but under these circumstances, that wasn’t very likely.

You cared for Levi and you could see that he at least cared for you in some ways, but those feelings would need to be nurtured with time.

The two of you were in front of your bedroom door, with you yawning up a storm, and Levi grumbling about getting you to bed.

You burst into your room and made a beeline for your bed, not bothering to really look around at your new room or even change out of your clothes. As soon as you were on the bed, you felt your drowsiness start to overtake you.

Before you passed out, you peeked over at Levi, who was getting situated at a desk.

“Aren’t you gonna sleep?” you asked, yawning again, and Levi turned to look at you briefly.

“Not for a while,” he answered finally.

You frowned at that but didn’t argue with him, your heart bubbling over with so many questions and feelings that you just couldn’t hold in anymore.

“Do you still dislike me?” you blurted out, face heating up at your lack of filter.

Levi raised a brow, pointedly looking towards the new ring on your finger. Then, his gaze softened, and he leaned back in the chair he sat in.

“No,” he answered. “And I was wrong for judging you before. I’m sorry I didn’t give you a chance sooner.”

You stayed quiet for a moment, but kept your eyes on Levi, no matter how hard it was.

“Do you think you’ll fall in love with me one day, now that we’re married?”

You couldn't stop that question from tumbling out either, but you were too curious to feel embarrassed.

Levi’s ears flushed pink, a cute new trait you were catching onto. He looked away from you briefly, clearly trying to find the right words, and he took so long to respond that you felt your heart start to sink.

But then he stood from his seat and moved to kneel beside the bed, a hand reaching up to smooth some hair out of your face.

“Let me focus on protecting you first,” he said.

His eyes were the softest they’d ever been. They gave you another answer.

“I’m going to love you,” you promised him. You still couldn’t admit that you were actively falling in love. Not to him, not right now. But another time.

“I don’t deserve that, after how I acted,” he whispered.

“I’ll always forgive you,” you whispered back. “And I’m going to love you.”

Levi moved his hand from your head to tuck you into the sheets a little better, avoiding your gaze. Neither one of you said anything for a minute, a comfortable silence falling between you like that afternoon in the parlor room.

As you began to drift off, Levi’s soft voice filled your ears with one final promise. One that was meant more for him than for you.

“I’ll figure out how to love.”

You were too tired to notice how the sheets smelled like Levi. You were too tired to realize that the room was clearly already lived in and had typical possessions of a squad captain, from ODM gear to a desk clearly stacked up with documents.

You’d been too tired to remember that your bedroom door was the right one and not the left one. You’d been too tired to notice that you’d opened the left door.

Levi was too besotted by you to correct your mistake.

Somewhere, a grandfather clock chimed as midnight struck.

#levi x reader #levi ackerman oneshot #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi x you #levi x y/n #levi attack on titan #levi ackerman #levi fic #levi fanfiction #levi ackerman fic #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi one shot #levi #aot fanfiction #aot oneshots #aot #snk fanfiction #snk

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stressedoutcanary · 3 years

Text

Family Matters - Batfamily x Reader

Summary: A surprise birthday party and Batfamily being chaotic.

“That's it Dick just a little to the right...No the other right...No! Not there you goofus! Just...Just get down from the chandelier before it comes crashing down on the rest of us and For God's Sake let Duke handle the ribbons before you somehow strangle yourself with them”

Warnings ⚠️: Fluff, lots of it, angst because I can’t help myself, Reader has got some parental issues. Hurt/Comfort.

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: I wanted some good dad Bruce content so I did it myself. Also I might have been influenced by a post I made a while back about Bruce and his children. I haven't used reader's pronouns anywhere so it's kinda gender neutral.

I don’t know where I was going with this, my imagines are often like a train derailed from its track but I think it’s fine. So Enjoy ;)

•°•°•°•°

"Focus (Y/S/N), don't jump in in blind, assessing what action your opponent is about to undertake and countering it out before they can complete that action, this is the key lesson for you today", Batman's commanding voice echoed in the enclosed area of the batcave as he observed you attempting to roundhouse kick the boy in front of you. It was rather rashly executed with the hope of knocking him down which, for obvious reasons, only ended up with your leg connecting with nothing but thin air.

'Damn he is fast when he actually tries.'

"Easy for you to say Old Man! You aren't the one dancing with Mister Duckboy, the teen wonder over here!", you exclaimed, panting as your chest heaved from the exertion.

"Duckboy?!", Tim looked near scandalized as you grinned in return, stealing a glance towards the giggling crowd gathered near the stairs.

Everyone was already in the cave, it was a rare occurrence, it happened only when the issues of upmost importance were being discussed. Today was one of those days; The planning of Alfred Pennyworth's surprise birthday party.

However things usually went a lot less violent, this day every year. The sparring session this year was the result of you messing up, real bad while on patrol last night and since you were around the same age as Tim, he was found to be the most appropriate partner for it. The only drawback was that he had a staff in his hands while your weapons were confiscated, because in Bruce's words 'you rely on them too much'. You were already tired and Tim had a huge advantage over you, if you wanted to win this match you had to be quick and efficient at the same time.

Distracting Tim by your comment allowed you to have an opening, gathering all your strength you went in for a forward strike. Unfortunately he was more than ready to take you on, he crouched down, narrowly missing your punch then proceeded to swipe your legs off of the ground with his bo staff making you fall butt first on the floor.

"Congratulations you've managed to hurt both my ass and my ego, Timbers", You said laying back on the ground, hands and legs spread out and instead of helping you up, Tim joined you on the floor sitting next to you. You gave him a look that was equivalent to 'next time I get the chance, I am going to push you off a roof'.

"Your skills need improvement", Bruce said in his monotonous tone as you grunted knowing that a full ass lecture was gonna follow, but before he could get another word out, Jason chimed in with a statement no one ever expected to hear from him,"You know (Y/N), he's not wrong in fact I think the old man's actually got a point."

Jaws dropped to floor, Tim looked like he just saw a ghost, Dick who was standing near Barbara pinched himself to see whether he was dreaming or not, Damian snapped his neck up from where he was sharpening his katana, even Titus and Ace perked their heads up at the sudden silence that settled over the place. Barbara, Cass, Duke and Steph looked equally shocked.

"Before you all get any ideas, what I'm trying to say is you better pay attention because B over here won't be able to save your ass, 'cause if you slack off the next thing you know you would be in a warehouse with a maniac, getting blown to bits", Jason looked at Bruce with accusing eyes.

'And here I thought he was finally going to say something sensible', you thought to yourself as he continued,

"Take it from someone who has had that experience, you guys remember right? The fact that I--"

"Died, we know!!", everyone groaned at the same time and Bruce looked like he had to physically restrain himself from faceplaming.

"Okay! Guys how about we go ahead and do the thing we all actually came here to do instead of... whatever this conversation was", you suggested, getting up and patting the dust off your clothes.

"Well then someone has got to ask the important question here", Barbara looked around as she worded her sentence,"who is going to be the one to keep Alfred busy while we get everything ready?"

Once again the cave went silent. For a whole bunch of detectives, you all were very, very scared of Alfred, including Bruce even though he will never admit it, lying to The old-butler-cum-grandpa and making random excuses for the whole 3 hours was a thought dreadful enough to make all of you exchange petrified glances at each other hoping someone would step forward to do the job.

"I'll do it", dick raised his hand.

"NO!", everyone snapped and Dick's head tilted with a pout.

"You are good at doing a lot of stuff boy wonder, hiding things from Alfred isn't one of them", Barbara comforted Dick as Damian stepped up next.

"*tt* Since none of you imbeciles have the courage or the ability to do it. I shall be the one to handle Pennyworth. Gordon, Cain and Titus, I will require your assistance", Damian spoke or rather commanded as he went up the stairs, followed by the group he chose.

"Don't mess this up for us, you gremlin!"

"Tim!", you lightly jabbed him in the side with your elbow.

"Ow! What?"

"Be nice", you narrowed your eyes and he understood you were being serious.

"Fine I'll try, but don't blame me if he starts something", Tim shrugged carelessly. You shook your head and let out an audible sigh as you followed everyone else up towards the manor.

•°•°

"That's it Dick just a little to the right...No the other right...No! Not there you goofus! Just...Just get down from the chandelier before it comes crashing down on the rest of us and For God's Sake let Duke handle the ribbons before you somehow strangle yourself with them", you eyed him worriedly.

"Oh come (Y/N) it'll be fine!", the cheerfulness in his voice made you cock an eyebrow at him from below. Duke slid in beside you.

"10 bucks says he will somehow fall within the next hour"

"Oh Duke you should know better, 20 says he'll fall within 30 minutes", you turned towards him with an evil smile.

"What are you both talking about down there?"

"NOTHING!", you both said in unison on which Dick gave you a confused look.

"Oh Hey look Steph needs my help with the cake so, see ya!", you quickly moved to the other side of the room checking in with Stephanie and Tim. She gave you a thumbs up to signal that everything was going according to plan and the place was almost ready. Everyone was laughing, bickering, having fun, it was all very rare and seeing it, a warm feeling spread throughout you.

You smiled to yourself for a moment but it faltered and a frown pulled up at your lips, a sorrowful thought crossed your mind, something you always kept buried deep down. Looking around and seeing as nobody needed your help at the moment you decided to slip out of the chaos, taking slow steps towards the patio to clear your head.

•°•°

Leaning against the railing you thought back to how you left your house this morning telling your mother that you are going to stay at your friend's place for a while and how she just waved her hand at that, not even questioning you anymore. Your mind was completely elsewhere, despite the awe-inspiring dense forest right in front of you, your eyes were lost in space.

You registered, a bit too late, the presence of someone standing beside you.

"It is a nice view, but something tells me that's not what brought to out here, away from everyone else"

"Careful there Brucie or people might think that you are actually capable of some emotions which happen include caring for people", you retorted back at him. It was always a sort of defense mechanism for you, whenever you felt exposed you countered it with snarky remark.

You closed your eyes hoping that Bruce would just walk away. But he didn't. He stayed there.

Bruce leaned on the railing beside you and waited. You took a deep breath, contemplating you next move carefully.

"...Look It's really silly so can we drop it?", you whispered wondering why in the world would Bruce of all people, care about your feelings.

"Talk to me (Y/N). I can tell when something is bothering you, I may not be your father, but you are my family.", unlike usual, his voice was gentle and genuine when he spoke to you.

"I am really not a fan of surprise birthdays", you stated, starting off vaguely.

"And why is that?"

"Because I...It's silly but this one time I spent a whole week working on a birthday gift for my mom, it was like a craft pop up box which had multiple photos of us together, I made that from scratch! everything in it I made that, I worked hard for it, I did it out of love but when I gave her that surprise gift you know what she said Bruce! She said that I wasted my time that she would've been much happier if I had focused on my studies, she never even once said that she liked it and I--", you looked at him with tears brimming in your eyes, threatening to spill.

"I don't know Bruce, it-it just makes me feel sad you know? every little thing reminds me that my mother doesn’t seem to love me anymore. There is this constant thought in my mind that no one cares about me, about what I do for them and I don’t know what to do with a thought like that."

"That's not true, look around you kiddo, you are surrounded by people who would do anything for you, who love you from the bottom of their hearts", Bruce finally looked at you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"That's the thing! I am not an orphan!", you blurted out and Bruce looked more confused than ever.

"I'm aware"

"No! No you are not. I am not one of those kids you picked up from somewhere, I don't live here, Like I am sure you people aren't even sane, hell! you all make up the most dysfunctional family I have ever seen! I don’t belong here, you people have no reason to care about", Bruce gave you a sideways look, slightly chuckling at your sudden description of the people in the manor.

"But I still love everyone, my mom, you, every dumbass inside the manor right now, no matter much pain they cause me and I don't get why", this time when he looked at you, you didn't look like the vigilante who sucker punched The Riddler in the face last night, you looked like a scared little kid who is lost.

Bruce stood up straight and wrapped you in a hug. Something you never expected to happen in a million years. The shocked settled in after a bit and you wrapped your hands around him, burying your face in his chest.

"The people we love are still people at the end of the day. They act out, and sometimes they let us down, hurt us even, but that doesn't mean we stop loving them. For every bad memory, there will always be a good one that will get you through it. I promise you that (Y/N)", Bruce pulled away and gave you a warm smile. You couldn't help but smile back, your face matching his.

"Okay who are you and what have you done with Bruce Wayne? because I don't recognize this man who is full of emotions and on top of that, is giving free hugs right now", you broke into a grin, making Bruce's face go back to the stoic version.

"If you tell anyone, I will deny it"

"Sure you will"

Suddenly a clattering sound came from the hall, alerting you both. This, however, was followed by a 'I'm okay!' By the one Dick Grayson, which in turn was followed by Duke's 'Oh no!'

"Any idea what that was about?", Bruce inquired raising an eyebrow as you burst out laughing.

"That, you big softie, was the sound of me getting my 20 dollars, now let's get back before they destroy everything."

•°•°

You and Bruce entered back into the hall, everyone was gathered around waiting for Damian and his group to signal the beloved butler's arrival. You stood next to Tim as Jason moved towards the switches to turn off the lights.

"Okay I'll bite why are you covered in frosting before the party even started?"

"Steph", Tim replied, too tired to elaborate, leaving you giggling.

Barbara, Cass and Damian rushed through the door, looking close to terrified, with Titus tagging along.

"He is here, HIDE!", Damian said quickly closing the doors.

After a few moments, the door creaked open and Alfred's voice came through, "Master Damian, you and I will have words for what you did to-- Oh my", he was stuck to his position at the door, too shocked to say anything more after looking at the decorations and bunch gathered around an enormous cake.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY ALFRED!!", you all exclaimed with extreme excitement.

As the party went on you noticed that there was, in fact, a broken chandelier broomed to the side, later on there were a few not-at-all-safe stunts performed by the boys, some really bad puns made by Dick, all sorts of shenanigans by the others and cake, lots of cake. You looked around, everyone was busy doing something but now you knew Bruce was right:

You have one hell of a family, original, found or otherwise. And you love them all no matter what.

°•°•°•°•

Tags: @thesesickfics-justmakemesick

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placebogirl7 · 3 years

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Kinoshita: Ren's assistant and "voice of conscience"

I decided to make an analysis about one of the most underrated character in Nana (also because he doesn't appear that much) but who I appreciate so much. Prepare yourself for a very long post to read because my beloved Kinoshita deserves it! ;) Kinoshita has been introduced as Ren assistant: his role is to drive Ren home when he's too tired, to remind him his schedule, to help him with whatever he needs. Kinoshita is also a big fan of Ren, so he's excited to have the opportunity to work with his idol. When we first see him in the manga, he's driving Ren home after a long day work. He's fashinated about Ren's expensive car and when Ren tells him that it's just a car and he doesn't matter about apprearance unlike Takumi, Kinoshita says to him that he's very talented and rich but he's not ambitious despite this. He also says that he let Takumi have control even his music and that it's when he plays punk music that he gives is best. Kinoshita is firmly convinced that Ren soul belongs to punk and that's the kind of music he should do. Probably in the old days he would have been a huge fan of former Blast! XD He sees the potential of Ren and he's aware that Takumi is "suppressing" it asking him to write songs more suitable for Reira's voice (which is definitely not punk).

At first Ren laughs about Kinoshita's words, because they just seems the words of an excited fan, but later he realized that maybe those words werent' that stupid. In fact, during a talk with Takumi, the latter says something that immediately make Ren remind of Kinoshita. Takumi basically confirmed what Kinoshita himself said before: Ren shows his best when he act like a rebel punk and he plays punk music. Can we just spend one minute looking at Ren's face expression in the last image of the panel below? He's smiling, but there's a sad expression on his face after he realized that Kinoshita's words were right. I think in that moment Ren realized what he had left behind and the fact that he's not free as he was in the past. He has to play the role of Trapnest's guitarist and he can't be anymore just Ren Honjo. Suddenly Takumi's kingdom was not so bright anymore compared to his own one little kingdom he abandoned.

So we can say that Kinoshita is the first one who really realized Ren's real potential and he has no fear to tell him directly.

Another thing that I appreciate about Kinoshita is exactly that he doesn't have fear to tell what he thinks and he has the courage to do it even about Takumi. Despite his evident bad attitude, nobody in Cookie staff has the courage to rebel against Takumi: they just wait for hsi orders and obey to them even if they don't agree. But one day, while talking to Ren, Kinoshita finally expresses what in my opinion is the thought of everyone: they are just little soldiers at the service of Takumi. He respects him and he recognize that he's an excellent business man, but he's not good when it comes to treat people in a decent way. He lacks of empathy and of other things on a human level. Even if Ren doesn't seem to appreciate this, I think Kinoshita was totally right and also I love how he feels at ease to confess to Ren his thoughts and opinion: he doesn't seem to simply consider Ren as an idol or a person he has to take care of but as a sort of friend to whom he can feel free to talk.

Later in the story, Kinoshita starts to re-evaluate Takumi after he found a solution to stop the scandal between Ren and Reira. He understands that Takumi actually cares about the band and its members and he carefully thinks about everything to avoid bad situations or loss that may bring damages to Cookie Music. Also, he doesn't see himself anymore only as Ren's assistant (like he has done until that moment) but he starts to see himself as a "vassal" of Trapnest, embracing Takumi's vision that he had criticized before. Ren is very happy to know that, look at his smile.

And now let's talk about Ren's drug addiction and how Kinoshita reacts to that. Of course Kinoshita knows about Ren's problem but he also knows he can't do a lot to be helpful. When Ren tries to get rid of all the cocaine he has but then starts to suffer from withdrawal, while they are driving to Cookie Music, Kinoshita notices that Ren doesn't feel good at all and tries to convince him to go to the hospital instead of going to work. Ren won't listen to reasons and yell at him to bring him at Cookie Music (knowing that Narita will give him drug). In the end Kinoshita obey to his order, but since he's really worried and not satisfied he later decided to call Takumi and inform him about Ren's conditions. Despite he doesn't like Takumi, he knows that he's the only one he can ask for help because Takumi has something he lack of: the power to find a solution even to the most complicated things. The binomial hate-admiration that Kinoshita has for Takumi is evident from the beginning to the end of the serie. I won't put images of the above mentioned scenes because Tumblr allows you to put only 10 images per post and I need to reserve the space for other images of more important scenes, but I'm sure you all remeber both the scenes I mentioned.

Another thing I want to point out is Kinoshita's vision about Nana and Ren's relationship. We can say that he has always been very considerate about their relationship and he never doubted even for a second that Nana wasn't sincere about Ren. He had understood from Ren that they truly loves each other and he sincerely wanted them to stay together. The little panel below is an example of this: Nana and Ren were having hard times and they rarely met each other. They had just found a new house but they couldn't spend time together in it and Kinoshita seemed to be very sorry because he saw how much Ren needed to stay with her.

Another scene were he demonstrates he cares for Nana and Ren's relationship is when Search publish that scandalous article and all the media start to talk about this, inventing fake things. Ren doesn't say a word and Kinoshita encourages him to do what he want, telling him that if he wants to spend good words about his girlfriend in front of the reporters, he won't prevent him from doing it. He says to Ren "follow what your heart tells you to do", which is the same thing that Yasu himself had told him in the bathroom during the Trapnest Vs. Blast show, when they spoke about Ren's drug addiction and Nana's hyperventilation attacks. Again, Kinoshita is acting like a supportive friend to Ren and not only as a mere assistant. When Ren refuses to do it and defines his old band members and friends (including his girlfriend) "old thrown away partner", Kinoshita seems shocked by that reaction. I personally was shocked too when I read it, because Ren really acted like a jerk in that moment. He put his career and Trapnest above his love and realtionship and friends, acting like Takumi would have acted, and so for Kinoshita (who in that moment still didn't appreciate Takumi for this) it must have been disappointing to see him acting in that cold way towards his lover and friends who were being accused.

Later, while Trapnest are in London, Ren realises that he acted like he didn't care and he reminds of Kinoshita's words (exactly like it happened when he told him he gave his best when he played punk music).

When Ren and Nana separate and Ren refuses to go fetch her because he feels ashamed to meet her and tell her about his drug addiction, Kinoshita takes the initiative and decide that if Ren needs to be encouraged to go to Nana, then he will be the person who will encourage him. He knows that Ren needs Nana and he hopes that reuniting with her could help him to feel better and convince him to stop taking drugs. While they are in Ren's car driving towards Cookie Music and Ren is talking about this with Hachi on the phone, Kinoshita asks him where Nana is in that moment and when he answers "Osaka", Kinoshita immediately change direction and starts to drive towards Osaka.

Again Kinoshita brings out his rebel side and affirms that he can't do what the staff expect him to do or follow Takumi's orders: he's convinced that he's doing the right thing (and he was definitely doing it in my opinion). He blames again Takumi and his way of handling the situation, knowing that what Ren needs is professional help and a break to recover, but Ren suddenly brings out the reality of the fact: he's not disappointed by Takumi or the staff, he's disappointed by him, his own hero, the idol he estimates so much. Kinoshita doesn't know what to answer, he doesn't want to hurt Ren and probably he doesn't want to admit to himself that Ren is right. In the last scene of the panel below, Kinoshita's expression is very sad because he realized that there's nothing he can do anymore to help Ren. He did his best but he failed. I think it must have been hard for him to realize that.

I think we can make a comparison here: Kinoshita has always idealized Ren exactly as Nobu did. They both saw Ren has an invincible hero, a perfect creature to admire and they wish to be like him, but then they realized that not all that glitters is gold and that Ren wasn't as perfect as they saw him. He was actually more fragile then them and they feel powerless because they knew they couldn't do anything to help him. When you idealize a person so much and then you discover that person isn't as you saw him/her, then you feel disappointed and that's what happened to both Kinoshita and Nobu.

Last but not least, after Ren's death Kinoshita tries his best to complete what Ren has left incomplete. His thoughts aren't for Trapnest's future or Cookie Music or for his work: his thoughts are for Nana, just like the last thoughts of Ren were. Kinoshita's mission is to be a sort of "emissary" who has to bring to Nana the feelings Ren was going to express her, his last words, his thoughts for her. The scene below is so sad but I love it, it's one of my favorite in the manga. Looking at Kinoshita crying while saying that "Please, accept it" breaks my heart evry time. He's literally begging Nana to take that present which Ren wanted to give her but didn't manage to, he wants Ren to be happy wherever he is in that moment, knowing that his wish has been fulfilled.

So, after all this recap of Kinoshita's moments, I think we can say that he's not only a mere assistant for Ren, but he's also a friend. His feelings for Ren are sincere, he doesn't praise him because he wants to keep his work, he praise him because he sincerely admire him. Kinoshita knows Ren needs and try to help him as much as he can, not only with his work but even more with his personal life. And if we consider all the times he has said something and Ren hasn't taken him seriously, but later realized how much he was right, we can say that Kinoshita's role in the story is to be Ren's "voice of conscience", that voice we all have inside us that says to us what is the right thing to do (but we often ignore it like Ren did). Kinoshita is a sort of mixture between Yasu and Nobu: he gives Ren the same advices as Yasu would have given him and he admire him like Nobu did. I think this is a good thing for Ren, because now that he's not a member of Blast anymore he doesn't have much time to see his old and true friends (not that Naoki and Reira aren't his friends but...well, in my opinion they can't be compared to Yasu and Nobu), so having Kinoshita near is like having a part of his friends with him all the time.

I hope this super long post hasn't annoyed you and I hope now we can all love Kinoshita together because he deserves a lot of love for what he did ♥.

Nana Week 2021 Day 1 Prompt: side character

#nana #nana week #nana week 2021 #nana analysis #kinoshita #ren honjo #7daysofnana #day 1 #prompt: side character

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doloresdraws · 3 years

Photo

I am slowly filling this OC question meme with all my WoD characters and it is a lot of fun, but also very exhausting.

Here is your chance to get to know more about Stanley, my sewer goblin Nosferatu boy ❤ ❤ ❤

❤ There is also a video process of this painting on my Youtube channel ❤

1) Stanley rarely gets angry, when he is supposed to be angry he instead get anxious and either starts to talk nonsense or stays silent.

2) He finds the idea lovely, but he knows that he will never meet anyone he could call a soulmate

3) More than being a pet peeve it just really makes him uncomfortable: when people are loudly shouting at him or at someone else.

4) He often thinks about his early childhood before he was seprated from his baby sister.

5) Probably the time he spent in the hospital before he found out about the Nosferatu and became their ghoul. Before that incident, he was feeling safe, taken care of and loved having a routine, knowing the place well and always looked forward to visits from his sister.

6) When he was separated from his sister and put into different foster homes.

7) He wouldn’t even go to a bar, too many people and too loud for his taste.

8) He was pretty badly beaten up when he was living on the street, but nothing was ever broken. After the Embrace he made Maks (his Sire) pretty unhappy a few times which resulted in him getting a few broken ribs. He tries to stay away from danger, but sometimes it doesn’t work out.

9) He would like to forget finding a dead woman’s body in the sewers.

10) His happiest memory is playing peek-a-boo with his sister in the driveway, he was oblivious about the world and his future. Life was good at that moment.

11) No, he doesn’t. His type is everyone who would treat him nice and made him feel safe :) He currently has a woman he got kinda attached to, only because she was nice to him when he accidentally bumped into her on the street. He had a hoodie over his face and it was dark. She thought he was a homeless kid. She helped him gather all of the small trinkets he dropped in the collision and he was captivated by her kindness, so he followed her home XD

12) Many – he has a collection of various random things he found in the sewers, he collects everything that catches his attention – mainly some personal things like rings, bracelettes, scrunchies, he even found a photo album. He remembers the exact place he found each of his possessions and he likes to imagine stories for each item. He keeps bracelet of the dead woman in case he would one day found out her identity and could return it to her family.

13+14) He has no tattoos or piercings, only way too many fangs in his small mouth that pierce his lips and cheeks XD

15) His dream house would be somewhere where he would be frozen in time as a happy child together with his sister.

16) You would not expect to find out that he is actually not a child, but a grown man, his small and frail stature is deceiving.

17) He has always good intentions with gifts, but he is not the best at choosing gifts XD He misjudges other people’s interest in smelly, sewer treasures XD

18) He knows he has a great memory, but because it has brought him so much trouble, both internal and external, he isn’t really proud or even happy he has an eidetic memory.

19) A stranger would describe him as a weird, smelly kid who talks too fast XD

20) Someone who spent more time around him and got to know him more (Mateusz) would describe him as a scared, smol man who might look like he can’t even count to ten but is actually very clever, but let others walk all over him because he is afraid of conflict.

21) He, himself is a walking insecurity :) But his biggest one is to not be understood when talking as he normally talks pretty fast, but when he is nervous and considering how many fangs he has it is sometimes hard for him to make sense and then he gets even more agitated as he is worried he will convey the message in a wrong way.

22) Physical: dexterity, non-physical: wits

23) Depends on the nature of the lie, most likely he would just nod and tried to understand the reason why he was lied to.

24) He has fond memories of the summer as when he was on the street, summer nights were warm and he didn’t have to worry about freezing to death. Aside this he is indifferent to the weather.

25) From romantic point of view he never had anyone he could say these words to, in general terms he only said I love you to his sister. He wouldn’t have a problem saying it first, but as a Nossie he knows that chances of him finding someone who would even want to spend time with him are almost none, so he will probably never say it to anyone else.

26) His only issue with openly sharing his worries is his fear of not being believed or worse be punished, so it depends on the person. If he knows that the person won’t get angry at him, he will share his worries.

27) No, he never saw anyone die. But the dead woman in the sewers was the first dead body he saw and he can’t erase the empty look on her face, it haunts him every night. He feels sad for her, being left there nameless, alone, dumped like trash. She surely had family somewhere and maybe they are still looking for her to this day…just like his sister is looking for him…

28) He totally is ticklish, he is very sensitive to touch, mainly because he is not used to be touched at the first place.

29) Very low pain tolerance, he hates being in physical pain and he knows that he now can heal pretty much everything, but it doesn’t take away the fact that he would much rather avoid getting hurt in the first place.

30) He wishes he would have been brave enough to say no to some of the things he is asked to do.

31) He isn’t a particularly messy eater, he mainly feeds on rats, not because of the guilt, but because he thinks that feeding from mortals is very stressful and scary ordeal.

32) Most unloved: when he got stuck obfuscated in the same room as the woman he followed home and unfortunately had to watch her and her date being intimate with each other. Not only he felt innapropriate, but it made him feel so lonely and sad that he never in his life felt so safe with someone to share such closeness and now he never will.

33) When he was reunited with his sister after years apart. Despite her being the younger sibling she basically took care for him and did everything she could to get his mental health problems under control.

34) He would most likely hate to lose touch as he likes to touch things XD On the other hand he would gladly lost hearing, so he could no longer spy on people :D

35) He likes small talk, because it feels relaxing and he doesn’t have to worry about saying too much.

36) He would have asked Maks if he ever cared about him as a person or if he just considered him a tool, a good asset to have because of his memory skills.

37) To the past, to his early childhood to spend more time as a naive child with the person he cares the most in the world.

38) positive: his sister – she made him feel loved and made him feel like he mattered, the staff and other patients in the hospital – they made him feel safe, cared for and not alone, negative: various people he met while he was on the street, his foster families, and to an extent his biological parents though he didn’t meet with them after.

39) Depends, in the hospital he liked being surrounded by people because they were nice and he felt safe with them, as a Nossie he prefers to be alone because the other Kindred most often than not scare him. He likes to spend time with Jamie (the ghoul that is living in the sewers with them) because of her child-like personality, she seems harmless and he likes that.

40) The scary thing that he had seen in one part of the tunnels one night, nobody believes him but he is pretty sure there is something terriyfing livin there. Aside this probably his Sire Maks, but he had heard that he met Final death.. apparently by Mateusz’s hands of all people…

Stanley © me/doloresdraws

#my art #clan nosferatu #oc Stanley #vamily #doloresdrawsocs #wod #World Of Darkness #vtm #vtr #vampire the requiem #vampire the masquerade #digital portait #digital painting #Vampire Art #chronicles of darkness #nossies

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finiteuniverse13 · 3 years

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home is people, not a place 2/?

Part 1

Summary: Clay gets attacked on base. DEVGRU finds an issue in that.

TW: Blood mention, physical assault, canon typical violence

Tag: @rebelwrites @chibsytelford @bravo-four-seal-team @velvetcardiganbucky @supervalcsi @abby-splace @itsonautopilot @thegirlwhoisalwayswriting @pinkrockstar19 @softi92 @mrsmarvelous1995 @jayhalsteadfan-2417

Lisa is pissed. She has every right to be. Clay had been attacked in the Bravo cages.

She’d watched the kid go from a strap who couldn’t stay in his own lane to an operator who could lead Bravo – and Tier One, for that matter – into the future. And then he’d been attacked in his team’s cages, in his own cage. Blackburn was still at the hospital – he’d found the kid in a pool of his own blood; Lisa wouldn’t blame him if it took an apocalypse to separate him from the kid – making sure that the kid got appropriate care.

She pushed open the door to Bravo’s briefing room, not that it actually had any members of Bravo in it. Alpha, Charlie and Delta were all there, waiting on her brief on the situation. Echo would have been there, if not for them being halfway through their first deployment as a team. There had been hesitation about deploying Echo – the loss of the last Echo line-up still sat heavily in the Tier’s mind.

The three team’s Master Chiefs and 2ICs had sat in Bravo’s usual chairs. Full Metal and Derek sat in Jason and Ray’s chairs, respectively. Beau and his second in command had taken Sonny and Trent’s, while TJ was sat in Brock’s. Delta Two had distinctively chosen not to sit in Clay’s seat, instead sitting in a chair usually used for either Cerberus or a support staff member, depending on the op.

(It was very funny to watch Brock and Clay push a wheely chair with Cerberus on it between the two of them, and they’d pretty much mastered the art of doing it in the last few months. Cerb had found that if he allowed it to happen, he’d get belly rubs and treats, so he was unbothered about it)

The other seats had a random assignment, seemingly first-come-first-serve. The ones unlucky enough to have not found seats stood tensely, arms crossed and grumbling under their breath to each other.

Nobody sat in Clay’s seat.

All 18 operators looked up when she walked in, attention snapping to the person with the most information. As she walked in, her gaze caught on the table space in front of Clay’s chair. Clay had left his book on the table. It’s about as thick as a brick, and Sonny would probably take a glance at it and tell Clay it was as dry as one. The embossed cover didn’t read English, and Lisa had a feeling that there would be very few, if any, people in the room able to read any part of the book.

She stood at the front and pushed her emotions down. These operators were here for information, not emotion.

“At 0145 this morning, 4 Green Team members entered Bravo’s Cage room. At 0157, they left, and returned to the Green Team barracks. 0204, Lieutenant Commander Blackburn entered the Bravo cages. He dialled 911 and was assisted by Alpha Four-”

She cuts herself off for a few seconds, as various operators slapped Jordan on the back, mumbled thanks spreading through the room as they reassured themselves that one of their own had helped their kid.

“Assisted by Alpha Four at 0207. Ambulance arrived at 0215. The Green Team members were apprehended by Alpha and Delta at 0248.”

She pauses again as a ripple of thanks goes through to room, Alpha and Delta thanking their Master Chiefs and each other and Charlie thanking both teams.

“Petty Officer Spenser was admitted to hospital at 0224, and was assessed as having a concussion, a broken nose and 5 bruised ribs.”

Alpha, Charlie and Delta’s medics all take note of this. They’re probably going to be on Clay’s ass for the next few months about this, right behind Trent.

“Bravo arrived at the Hospital at 0243. They are all with him. Hayes has asked that he is included in any appropriate punishments.”

Full Metal snorts. “Bet he didn’t word it like that”

A series of chuckles and grins echoes around the room. He did not word it like that. There was much more swearing, and much, much less formal language. He’d implied murder no less than 5 times.

Lisa allowed a smile to pass through the stony calm façade she had up.

“Command has delegated these appropriate punishments to be carried out within DEVGRU and have stressed the importance of leaving an impression on future graduates. This cannot be a recuring event.”

TJ pipes up first, almost before she’d finished talking. “I say we let Metal work his magic, make sure nobody finds them.”

This gets mixed responses, but Lisa isn’t surprised when none are wholly negative. They all had a younger brother in the form of Clay, and they had all trained for years in the art of killing their enemies as swiftly and efficiently as possible, and these candidates fell wholly and completely under the title of ‘Enemy’.

Metal gives a faux hopeful look to Lisa, and Lisa can tell that he’s not entirely dismissed the possibility, even as he does a terrible job at pretending to still consider it an option that Lisa could authorize. Lisa plays into the joke – god knows that Tier One needs some light in this disastrous day – and gives him the look mostly used for when Bravo (usually Sonny) suggests a stupid idea that shouldn’t had even crossed their minds. Blackburn jokingly referred to it as her “bad dog” look, and it worked for its purpose, making the operators put their tails between their legs. A few faces form smiles, and a few look to be wavering on the edge of smiling.

“No murder, and no death.”

This gets her grumbles, and not all of them are joking. Clay had gotten all of them out of sticky situations. Every operator in Tier One had a handful story where Clay had needed to be briefed on their op, and all of them had at least one where he’d taking calls at 2am to translate over a connection that he could barely hear English through. He’d never berated them for waking him up, and had often taken time to teach various operators key phrases, if he knew they were deploying somewhere where he knew the language.

Beau goes next, possibly the most level-headed of the Master Chiefs – both in the room and not. “Advanced SERE?”

Now this, Lisa can work with. Something about her posture must change, a twitch in her face, because the room suddenly erupts in sound. Charlie Two, Delta Five and Alpha Three all are in close enough range to clap Beau on the back, and they do so in quick succession.

“Gentlemen.” She raises her voice to be heard by the room. There’s nothing gentle about the looks on their faces.

“I’ll leave you to figure something out. Report to me with a plan of action.” And with that, she gives them a single nod and begins to leave. Her turned back does not block out the whispers of violence, but it does hide the vicious smile that’s stretched itself out along her face.

Nobody would even think about hurting their kid. Ever again.

As Clay blearily opened his eyes, he realised that he’d succumbed to pain-med-induced sleep. A few hours had probably passed since then, based on the fact that sunlight was now filling the room. Sonny was sat on his right side, gaze focused on the room’s TV screen, which was showing a play-by-play of a football game. The volume was cranked down, and even as Clay becomes more aware; he can only hear every other word.

“Son?” The word passes his lips without him meaning it to. Sonny’s head snaps over to Clay, so fast that Clay fears he may have given himself whiplash.

“Hey Bam Bam, how ya doin?” The toothpick moves hypnotically. Stop looking at the toothpick. Stop it. Stop it. Sonny’s casual expression is betrayed by the slight waver in his voice, a sliver of raw emotion that Sonny couldn’t fully supress. Clay gives him a strained smile in lieu of answering and reaches his hand out. Sonny catches the hand before it moves very far, holding it in a tight grip.

Sonny’s thumb absently runs across Clay’s unblemished because he hadn’t even been able to fight back knuckles, and his spare hand turns off the TV, leaving them in silence.

“Kid.” Clay’s eyes widen slightly, and he almost pulls his hand out of Sonny’s grip at the softly spoken word. He tries to get in the apology, the explanation, before Sonny can tell him that Jason is punishing him for being unaware.

“I should have being paying attention. I know I should have been paying attention, I was just so tired.” I’m sorry I’m so sorry don’t kick me out please

Sonny freezes. What?

“Clay. Stop. Stop-” he has to cut himself off before he says something that includes those really touchy-feely-emotions he’s feeling. Thankfully, Clay doesn’t take the pause as an opportunity to continue. “Stop trying to defend yourself. None of us blame you, Blondie. You were on base. You should have been protected. We won’t fail you again.” Sonny gives him facts, because he knows that if he tries to do anything else he’ll make it worse.

“Son?” Clay recalls a voice calling through the dark, through the black water he was floating in, a voice he’d recognised; “Did Blackburn find me? He- he had blood on his hands”

For a moment, Sonny curses Clay’s blessings as a sniper. He’d always been able to notice the little things, the things none of them would notice. “Yeah, he was checking that none of us were sleeping in the cages.”

Clay nods, and then his brows furrow. He breaks eye contact with Sonny and frowns in the genal direction of his feet. His face makes what Sonny calls his ‘Brainiac’ Face, and Sonny can only assume that he’s thinking about what happened with Blackburn, not rationalizing with himself that the beating was somehow his fault.

“Son, can I talk to him?” Sonny doesn’t want to think about whatever that conversation is going to be, so he nods and begins to gather his stuff. His cap is hanging precariously from one on the bed’s corners, his phone on the bedside table. He stands and ruffles Clay’s head, laughing despite the stink-eye he gets for it. Clay doesn’t mind it, and he has the feeling the next few weeks, if not months, are going to be filled with various forms of physical contact to reassure his teammates that he was still with them.

And now he’d asked Sonny to get Blackburn. God what do you even say to the guy who had found you beaten? ‘Hey Boss, I’m sure that what you saw was horrifying, but I’m alright now?’ God help him. Sonny hadn’t given him a weird look, so he’d probably been expecting Clay to ask at some point.

Clay’s train of thought is interrupted when a soft knock sounds on the door. There’s a second of pause before the door opens. Clay can’t think of a time when Blackburn’s looked worse. There are dark circles under his eyes, and a vaguely haunted look in his eyes. His eyes have a red tinge, and Clay can’t tell if that’s from sleep deprivation, or something else. His hands are rubbed red and raw, and Clay can tell that Blackburn had taken extra care to get every fleck of blood off his hands. He’s in a jacket that looks too big for him, and Clay suspects that Trent had a hand in that. Since the injured person – Clay – wasn’t someone he could immediately care for, Trent had gone for the next best thing, a shaken Blackburn. Under the jacket, he’s still in his fatigues, and by the time he’s finished the assessment of Blackburn’s top half, he’d moved close and sat down, hiding everything below his waist from Clay’s view.

Blackburn reaches out, putting a palm on Clay’s forearm, Clay’s hand mirrors it on Blackburn’s arm, and tension bleeds from Blackburn’s figure. His shoulders slump slightly, and he leans forward.

“How are you feeling?”

Clay considers lying, considers saying that he’s not in any pain, considers easing Blackburn’s mind. He decides against it. Blackburn had found him in a pool of blood, it’s the least he can do to tell him the truth. “My ribs hurt. But I’m, I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad you were there.”

Clay is the sometimes literally bleeding heart of Bravo, levelling out Sonny’s emotional constipation, and the admission is the balm of some of the burns on Eric’s soul. Eric leaned forwards, shuffling closer to the bed, trying to hide the blood on his knees. He hadn’t been home to change, a call to his wife at 8am had told her that he wasn’t going to be home for a while. She, like the amazing wife she was, had been understanding, and then grumbled at him to let her sleep. They’d both laughed and exchanged ‘I love you’s before his wife ended the call. Clay didn’t need the stress of knowing that Eric had knelt in his blood. Nobody needs that.

“Gave me quite a scare, gave all of us quite a scare.” Eric doesn’t tell him that he’d spent the last half hour scrubbing his hands raw, that Jason had needed to strong-arm him into the waiting room, that Trent had given him one look and offered up his jacket, that he’d had his head in his hands until Sonny had come into the room and told him that Clay wanted to talk to him. Doesn’t tell him that he’d stood outside for nearly a minute before he’d knocked, that he’d needed to barrel in before he lost the nerve to speak to his operator. He usually prides himself on staying calm, on being collected, but Clay had been attacked in one of the few places on earth that he could honestly and without reservation call home. That scared Eric. If he couldn’t keep his operators safe on base, where would they be safe?

“Davis is talking to command about adding locks to the cage room doors, make sure this doesn’t happen again.” If she wasn’t already talking to command about it, she would be soon.

Clay nods. He shifts and grimaces in pain.

“Do you want me to get a nurse?” It’s a safe question, one that doesn’t involve the emotions in the room.

Clay ignores the lifeline. “I’m alright as I am. Did you get the guys?”

Eric nods. Breaking the news to Bravo had been the highlight of his morning. “Command is letting DEVGRU work out how to punish them.”

Clay grins. “I bet Metal is having fun with that.”

It’s Eric’s turn to smile, and a soft chuckle makes its way out. “Davis is under strict orders to not accept a plan that involves murder. I’m sure Alpha’s disagreeing with that.”

Alpha was most likely to deploy with Bravo, and all were in line with their Master Chief’s ‘Bury-first-questions-second’ policy when it came to Clay. Eric had a feeling it wouldn’t take much convincing to get Delta and Echo behind the plan, and that Charlie would only argue on principle.

Tier One was a brotherhood that didn’t take kindly to injury, as the world would learn.

Echo One – Zack Greer – a newly promoted Delta Two, wasn’t a very outgoing man. One and Twos were meant to both complement and contrast each other, a precarious balancing act honed over years of living out of each other’s pockets. TJ had needed a level head, so his Two was calm in the face of crisis.

Echo Two, on the other hand. A Floridian man, Elliot Howe, promoted from Charlie Three, who was under strict orders to never drink unsupervised with Sonny Quinn, lest they empty a bar and then burn said bar to the ground. He’d chaffed under Beau’s tight ship, so when the opportunity to move to form Echo had arisen, he was hard pushed to say no.

Together with Echo Three (Alpha Three), Echo Four (Delta Six) and two Green Team graduates as their Five and Six, they’d created a tight brotherhood.

Echo Five, Dan Wilder, a multilingual K9 handler, had initially been lost at DEVGRU, not quite fitting in. He’d reached out to the youngest operator – Bravo Six – in order to get some advice. What he didn’t know at the time is that their languages had overlap. Together with Clay and Ares – his K9 – he’d been able to find someone to practice with.

Echo had long since lost count of how many times Clay had come into their cage room, with a well-loved book, offering it to Dan with a brief explanation of how it would interest him. The book was never in English, and neither was the explanation. For all they knew, Clay could have spent the last few months giving Dan anything from Harry Potter to The Anarchist’s Cookbook (he’d actually only given Dan one of those, and Dan was under strict instructions not to tell them which, and Dan had been recommending others back).

Sonny, on the days when they were hanging out after work, sometimes tagged along to these exchanges. He’d joked about a book club, and Echo Two had picked up on the joke immediately, and since then the pair had resigned themselves to the nickname.

Between Clay’s frequent interactions with Dan and the fact that all of DEVGRU was deadly protective of Clay, it was no surprise that when Echo had heard the news, they hadn’t been happy. Command had fought a battle with Echo to keep them deployed, and Echo had nearly won. Dan had been on many rants, talking to empty space in Pashto – Four only caught a few words, and those were all along the lines of murder and death. Ares was giving out a low, constant growl. Both of the DEVGRU K9s were as protective as their owners, it seemed.

The door to their dorms slammed open and Zack marched in. Echo looks up in sync, and if it weren’t so serious, Zack would be amused by how much his men look like Meerkats. “Got word from Virginia.” This sets his men on edge, Howe half-steps forward, and his shoulders visibly tense up. “They found the green team rookies. We’ve been asked to approve the plan of their punishment before it gets sent to be approved by command.” Malicious smiles break out among the barracks.

They may be 7000 miles away, but they wouldn’t let anybody off the hook because of it.

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usergreenpixel · 3 years

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Frev prompts, Part 4! 🎉

21. The protagonist is a high school student with a knack for drawing comics but they’re also the favorite target of the bullies at school.

One day the bullying gets so bad that the protagonist is unable to cope with reality anymore and, as a means of escapism, writes themselves into their new comic about their favorite topic - The French Revolution. With their favorite pen they had inherited from their writer grandfather, no less.

However, what was supposed to be a harmless little self-insert quickly becomes a reality when the protagonist is magically transported into their comic book and now has to navigate their own story and finish it in order to return to the real world, as well as figure out the mysterious powers of the magical pen.

22. Despite the fact that the days when the Bastille used to be packed with prisoners are gone, a handful were still trapped inside its gloomy walls by the time the infamous prison was taken.

The protagonist is one of the few prisoners who are sentenced to imprisonment inside the Bastille until they and the rest of the prisoners are set free by the revolutionaries.

For the first time in a long while, the protagonist is free but not all is sunshine and butterflies because the revolution is only beginning to escalate and the protagonist has long forgotten how to function in the society outside the prison.

With no other options, the protagonist decides to try and rebuild their life from square one, all while the events of the revolution are unfolding in the city of Paris.

23. Two friends, the protagonists, were raised together by a noble family as adopted wards and used to be close as children, but drifted apart when one of the two went abroad to get a good education.

Nevertheless, the childhood friends find themselves reunited by a pure coincidence during a meeting in the Jacobin Club, which both of them joined mere days ago.

All seems well, until it becomes apparent that the protagonists don’t exactly see eye to eye when it comes to politics in France nor the methods of solving the multiple issues plaguing the country.

This new rift between the protagonists only widens as the revolution progresses and the Jacobin Club gets split into groups on the basis of shared political beliefs.

Will the two protagonists be able to restore the friendship they used to have or will their new differences prove that maybe friendship isn’t always as almighty as people say?

24. The protagonist is acutely aware of the multiple injustices of the French society but they are not too eager to change things personally, hoping that maybe the government will find a way to fix things.

The protagonist, meanwhile, would rather focus on keeping their small family business (a bookshop) afloat and renting out an apartment in the house to make ends meet.

Soon, however, the protagonist ends up getting roped into the events of the revolution regardless when they accidentally overhear their new tenant discuss his plans in a hushed tone with a few other people.

The protagonist has all the evidence that they had unwittingly rented out an apartment to a revolutionary and now they have the evidence to turn that rebellious youth from Blérancourt in along with his buddies.

At first, the best course of action seems fairly obvious. Just report them to the authorities and be done with it.

However, perhaps these youths are more than just stupid kids playing at freedom fighting and maybe they can actually help the country.

When faced with the dilemma of either ratting the young rebels out or joining their cause, the protagonist makes a choice that ends up changing their entire life.

25. The year is 1811. Located near Saint-Petersburg, The Imperial Lyceum is a place where boys from noble families of The Russian Empire live and study. Perhaps the most famous Lyceum of all, it was home to plenty of those who would become prominent in Russian society of the time.

This is where the protagonist, one David de Boudry, teaches French to these boys.

Monsieur de Boudry knows that most of his students are blissfully unaware of a certain secret of his and likes it that way. It is best if they don’t know that he happens to be a younger brother to Jean-Paul Marat himself but changed his last name to avoid the associations.

Keeping this particular tidbit of his biography secret used to be fairly easy, until his older brother, Jean-Paul Marat, appeared in David’s life again on a snowy and frosty January day.

Marat is inexplicably alive, but he is also half-frozen and extremely disheveled when he shows up, not to mention the fact that he arrives with his wife and a very young child in tow. They all need a place to hide from the authorities, and fast.

Being a loving brother, David de Boudry hides his family and is now determined to keep them safe for not even a new name can sever family ties.

But, having made this difficult choice, will Monsieur de Boudry be able to reconcile his love for his family and the devotion to his adoptive home country? And will Marat be able to keep his loved ones and himself safe from the agents of police who lurk nearby and are quite hellbent on proving that the man they are pursuing is indeed the infamous Jacobin?

26. The protagonist is a sophomore who became a member of a Drama Club during their freshman year of high school and they are quite happy to finally have a friend group where they belong. Here nobody judges them for their stutter, their crossdressing and their fear of dogs.The protagonist is even allowed to play roles that would be normally reserved for the opposite gender just so they have an excuse to crossdress.

The upcoming play about the French Revolution is no exception and the protagonist is quite overjoyed but also frustrated that something just doesn’t ring true whenever they read their lines. Frustrated, they sneak into a time machine built by their parents and transport themselves to Paris of 1794.

They soon see that the city is in chaos and rumors about a traitor who had supposedly escaped the guillotine and went on the run with his family spread like wildfire. Moreover, the protagonist soon finds themselves in a bit of a pickle because of their name and physical appearance.

Even a man whom the protagonist saves from a mob advises them not to reveal their name and to lay low as soon as the protagonist introduces themselves. The protagonist is naturally confused but they do want to stay alive and free.

In order to survive, the protagonist decides to do what actors do best - improvise. It’s not easy, of course, but the protagonist tries to stay optimistic.

They hope that they will make it. They know they will. Giving up is not an option. After all, a Desmoulins never gives up. Right?

27. The French Revolution is not an easy period in history. It should be fairly obvious why.

The country is drowning in chaos and the future is uncertain, no matter how hard The Committee of Public Safety tries to maintain at least some semblance of order.

Meanwhile, in the heart of Paris, lives our protagonist whose main concern was not the revolution, but rather the fact that it’s becoming increasingly difficult to keep their inn’s doors open.

And then, one day, the unthinkable happens. A guest is found murdered in their room. Naturally, all the other guests are now suspects, and so is the staff. A diverse bunch of people with their own agendas, secrets and ties to the victim has gathered in the inn.

Sensing that something isn’t right, the protagonist decides to become an amateur sleuth and get to the bottom of the situation.

A “whodunnit” murder mystery is about to take place in the inn and the protagonist is determined to solve it.

28. A few years passed after the betrayal of the Thermidorians. The Revolution is destroyed and all of the enemies of the new government are dead… Except for one.

The protagonist is a patient in a mental hospital on the outskirts of Paris. Here the treatment of the patients is becoming more and more humane than it used to be before. That being said, the living conditions still leave a lot to be desired. Moreover, the protagonist feels isolated and lonely due to their personal issues and the trauma that caused them to become basically imprisoned in the facility.

Luckily, the loneliness disappears when the protagonist secretly manages to befriend another patient, a mysterious young man who is kept in isolation from the rest of the people at the facility, is forced to wear a mask to hide his face and is treated far worse than the others.

Horrified by the extent of the abuse that their new friend has to endure, the protagonist teams up with him to escape to Avignon, where the protagonist’s relatives live.

Little do they know, their new friend and partner in crime is an outlaw and a Montagnard, the last of them all, so when the two finally escape the police quickly catch wind of the situation.

Can the duo get to Avignon and avoid recapture? Will this unlikely friendship help them heal from their respective trauma? And will the revolutionary’s plan to avenge his executed friends be successful?

29. (Crossover with Greek mythology) When Adrestia, a minor Greek goddess, is banished to Earth from Mount Olympus for causing too much trouble, she assumes a human disguise and travels to France of 1789, where great changes are just around the corner.

Finally finding herself in her own element once again, Adrestia (whose human name is Adrienne) decides that she has no right to miss all the fun and joins the forces of the revolution. She is a goddess of revolt and a daughter of Ares, after all.

One would think that having a goddess on your side will make fighting easier, but things are not that simple and the other gods don’t exactly take kindly to troublemakers who go against authority.

Nevertheless, Adrestia is more than willing to try and help her new allies to win in their fight for Liberty, Equality and Fraternity.

30. When the protagonists first meet up in real life, they’re ecstatic. After a few years of chatting on the Internet, the two French Revolution enthusiasts have finally met each other face to face and now they decide to set an old plan of theirs in motion.

The duo wants to perform a time travel spell invented by their witch ancestors and change the way the French Revolution ended. The spell is successfully cast, but in the process the warlocks run out of magic and are now forced to wait in the past until they are strong enough to cast the spell again to return home.

But hey, at least while they’re waiting they can do what they always wanted to do - prevent the Thermidorian Reaction, and they are going to try to do just that, even though preventing a coup d’état is far from easy, especially for two college kids from the future.

31. It’s 1815. Joseph Fouché is the Minister of Police but his days in office are numbered and he knows it.

What’s more, rumors spread about the incompetence of the police as nobody can catch the culprit behind a new string of murders. Fouché hopes that cracking the case would restore his reputation, but something isn’t right about these murders.

So far, every single victim was a participant of the Thermidorian Reaction and it simply cannot be a mere coincidence. This pattern makes Fouché fear for his life and his reputation, as in addition to the murders the sins that he and his allies had pinned on their enemies begin to resurface.

Fearing that he is next and that his own crimes are about to be exposed as well, Fouché becomes obsessed with catching this mysterious vigilante. He even has a prime suspect in mind, but he can neither track him down nor prove that it was him.

Meanwhile, the time Fouché has to rehabilitate the police force is running out. Soon he too might face the music at long last, as well as learn exactly why sparing one of your enemies while killing the rest is considered to be a classic mistake.

Will the vigilante get to Fouché? How much time does the Minister of Police actually have left before karma knocks on his door? And why does the youngest police inspector in history, who is Fouché’s beloved protégé, turn against his mentor?

32. When the protagonist decided to sneak into the Catacombs of Paris for “shits and giggles” with their buddies, the last thing they expected was a sudden time travel to a closet in an apartment of a prominent revolutionary, whose skull the protagonist was holding in their hands seconds ago.

Naturally, the protagonist gets caught by the housekeeper and promptly accused of breaking and entering at best, and an assasination attempt at worst. It doesn’t help that the protagonist has strange pills and a baseball bat on their person.

But when they’re about to get prosecuted, the inhabitant of that same apartment suddenly speaks up on their behalf and defends the protagonist, claiming that it was a mere misunderstanding. Later, that same revolutionary visits the protagonist, reveals that he knows about the existence of time travel and promises to help, as long as the protagonist goes along with his plan.

Despite suspecting that the revolutionary has an ulterior motive, the protagonist does want answers so they agree to play along...at least for a while.

33. After the Revolutionary War in America, the protagonist follows his friend and mentor, Marquis de Lafayette, to Paris as he is the only family the hero has at this point.

At first, when the French Revolution rolls around, the hero still stays by his mentor’s side, never questioning his opinions and decisions and admiring him as a hero.

But after the September Massacres reveal Lafayette’s...less heroic side the hero is utterly broken and disappointed that he trusted the wrong person yet again. This revelation prompts the hero to switch sides and become a double agent, working with the Jacobins while pretending that he is still loyal to Lafayette.

Is this the correct choice to make or will the hero’s naïveté and a simple desire to belong betray him once again?

34. Maximilien Robespierre finds himself in a difficult situation. Somehow, everyone who crosses his path keeps going missing, only to turn up brutally murdered.

Moreover, Robespierre keeps receiving notes with rather...stalkerish messages written by the culprit. The stress and the crippling paranoia are slowly taking a toll on his frail body and he collapses altogether after finding out that Camille Desmoulins and Antoine de Saint-Just got attacked as well.

Fortunately, Saint-Just and Desmoulins manage to survive the ordeal and decide that enough is enough. After a long recovery, the two men decide to set aside their differences and track down the mysterious stalker before other people close to Robespierre get hurt.

Who knows, perhaps this buddy cop-esque adventure will even help Saint-Just and Desmoulins resolve their rivalry once and for all, now that a mutual friend of theirs needs both of them.

35. An immigrant enrolls into a high school in the country where they live now, a country located on the other side of the planet, miles away from their homeland.

Isolated from the rest of the students, shunned for their Eastern European accent (feel free to pick the specific country) and their Socialist beliefs, the protagonist has very few friends and even they are imaginary - three French revolutionaries whom the protagonist admires the most.

However, things change when a classmate bonds with the protagonist over their fascination with the French Revolution and the two decide to team up and write a novel about their favorite topic, all while the three imaginary friends, who may or may not be something more than a simple product of imagination, are guiding these kids on their quest to rehabilitate the legacy of the revolution.

P. S. The Fouché tag has been graciously lent to me by @frevandrest , the tag’s inventor. This needs to become an official tag imo.

#writing #writing prompts #frev #french revolution #louis antoine de saint just #saint just #antoine saint just #maximilien robespierre #robespierre #camille desmoulins #I still refuse to make a fouche tag #marquis de lafayette

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girlboss-molina · 3 years

Text

Be Who You Are (No Compromise)

A Julie and the Phantoms Modern Royalty AU

Chapter 1: Introductions

AO3 Link

Words: 5543

-----

Alex POV

...

Of course.

Of fucking course.

He’d known it was coming, yeah, but that didn’t change the fact that, despite his friendship with Princess Julie, Alex had no desire to marry her. And now, after begging not to be married off, he was still stuck in this deal.

It had nothing to do with Julie herself, of course; Julie was a kind, loving, musical girl around his age. The issue was that he was gay. Marrying a girl was not something he was interested in.

Julie knew Alex was gay; he’d come out to her after he was sure she would accept him, which he knew she would after she mentioned her best friend being a lesbian, and her being bisexual herself. Needless to say, neither of them had been thrilled by the announcement a couple years back that they would be getting married, for more reasons than the fact that nobody wants to be in an arranged marriage.

And now, in three months time, he would be at the alter with a girl he wasn’t in love with.

Alex knew it wouldn’t be that bad; in fact, he and Julie were quite close friends. Their kingdoms, Tambor and Dahlia respectively, were close allies. But for some godforsaken reason, their leaders had felt the need to strengthen their allyship by setting up their heirs in an arranged marriage. Had Alex been the oldest, this wouldn’t have been the case. However, it wouldn’t be him, but his older sister, Ava, taking the throne of Tambor.

He, along with his guards, would be travelling to Dahlia this evening. He hated that it was so soon. Not that he wasn’t excited to see Julie, he was, but it was the reason that put a knot in his stomach.

Alex allowed himself one more panic attack before getting ready. As a treat.

The warm sun streaming into his room felt out of place with the dread settling in his stomach, and his breath choked, his heart racing, salty tears streaming down his face. He clenched his hands into fists and back out, trying to calm himself despite the emotional release. His nails dug into his palm, not hard enough to cut, but enough to leave little indents that he then ran his fingertips across.

Trying to pull himself together, he stood - albeit shakily - and walked across the soft, carpeted floor to his full-length mirror, pleasantly surprised as he noted that he wasn’t as big of a mess as he’d expected, given his previous panic.

A knock on his door alerted him that his head butler was there to help him get ready for the jet ride.

“Your highness, are you alright?”

Alex didn’t answer, grateful for Luke’s steady voice outside his door.

“He’s a little panicky at the moment. Maybe give him a few minutes to settle?” he suggested, and Alex hoped Luke was receiving the strong thank you vibes he was trying to transmit telepathically.

Any time Alex had a panic attack, he was semi-verbal. He could speak if he really, really tried, but it generally took a great deal of effort. He and Luke had a system, though; if Alex needed support during a panic attack, he would fake-sneeze three times, and Luke would come in from his station outside Alex’s door.

Alex allowed himself another minute to calm his breathing and wipe the tears from his face, practicing the grounding exercise Julie had taught him.

Inhale- 1, 2, 3, 4

Hold- 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Exhale- 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

It helped a lot, and soon he was able to straighten his hair and begin changing into the suit his tailors had made just for this occasion.

Another knock echoed from his door, and Alex took one final deep breath to compose himself.

“Come in,” he said, proud of how steady his voice was.

The butler entered; a kind man named Erik, who Alex had gotten to know over the past month or so. His olive skin shone in the afternoon light streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Alex dressed himself, for the most part; having butlers help him dress was never something he particularly enjoyed. He allowed Erik to smooth his white dress shirt, though; no matter how many times Alex had practiced tucking in his shirts, they always ended up wrinkled.

He slid the navy suit vest over the shirt once it was nice and smooth, fastening the thick buttons over his stomach. Minimalistic gold embroidery on the vest sparkled in the light, and Alex couldn’t help but smile at the bit of flair. He’d been half-hoping that his matching navy pants would have a bit of sparkle as well, but to no avail. Probably for the best, he decided. Just a little touch was enough.

He fixed the cuff of his sleeve, taking a breath as Erik reached up with a comb to fix his hair. It was simple but refined, how it always was.

“Erik, you’ve outdone yourself with this one, bro!” Alex said excitedly. He might not be very pleased about being in an arranged marriage, but he could appreciate a good suit. “I love the details.”

“I’m glad you like it!” Erik beamed with the praise. “May I?” he asked, reaching for Alex’s shoulders. Alex nodded, and Erik smoothed the vest’s warm fabric, readjusting the hem until it was aligned perfectly.

He might not have been the type of guy to always wear suits, unless necessary, but Alex had to admit it. He looked good. The slim fit outlined his muscles, and the deep blue of the vest and pants brought out the bluish tints in his blue-green-grey eyes. (nobody could seem to decide what color they actually were). The small touches of golden embroidery shone and somehow managed to accentuate the sun-born highlights in his hair.

“You look wonderful, your highness.”

“Thanks, Erik. And you can call me Alex, we’re chill.” Alex had been insisting to Erik that he could be casual around him for months, but Erik still generally referred to him as “your highness.”

“Alex,” he corrected with a broad smile. “Well, Alex, you have a photoshoot for the press in ten minutes, so if there’s anything else I can do to get you ready, don’t hesitate to ask. Though I must say, you look awesome.” Alex let out a small laugh.

“Thanks, dude. Oh, wait, before you go, could you tell me something?”

“Of course,” Erik replied. Alex put on his Serious Face.

“Do these pants make my butt look big?” Erik bust out laughing, and Alex couldn’t help but do the same.

...

Three hours later, Alex was finally done with an exhaustive photoshoot. He hated having his picture taken; add that to the list of anxieties. He had to make sure he looked perfect, or everything could go wrong; that was what his parents had drilled into him from the moment he had his first real photoshoot.

Of course, he still had to endure an interview with the Tambor Times Magazine, which he was dreading. Speaking to an overeager journalist with no respect for privacy was never something he looked forward to.

“What are your thoughts on the marriage that has been arranged between you and Her Royal Highness, Princess Julie of Dahlia?” Alex cleared his throat.

“It’s definitely a unique situation,” he started. “I mean, not every nineteen-year-old is part of an arranged marriage.” He did his best to keep his voice light, and it must’ve worked, because the journalist gave a laugh and moved on.

“If I may, what is your current relationship with her?”

“The princess and I share a close bond,” was the only answer he gave. “If you’ll excuse me, I must be going,” he added. “I have a flight to catch.” He grinned - He didn’t have to catch any flight. He would be on the royal family private jet. But the journalist smiled and shook his hand, instructing him to have a wonderful evening, and he did the same.

The bit about catching a flight wasn’t entirely false, though; soon, he had wished his parents a good evening and boarded the jet with his suitcases, hoping to leave his anxiety in Tambor.

-----

Julie POV

...

So.

Here’s the thing.

Julie liked Alex, she really did. He was one of her closest friends (princesses don’t get out much). But he was gay, And Julie was decidedly Not A Guy. Plus, they both knew their connection was strongest platonically, anyway.

Of course, none of that matters in diplomacy.

Julie had tried many, many times to get out of the arranged marriage. But she’d just turned eighteen, and Alex nineteen, and apparently their kingdoms had no such qualms about marrying off teenagers.

At least her dad, King Ray, had tried to get her out of it. But even as king, there was only so much he could do; everybody except for him thought it was a grand idea, because Of Course They Did. And once the public had heard the news, when she was sixteen, Julie couldn’t look out her window without seeing photographers outside the palace gates for a week.

She supposed there was nothing she could do about it now, though, no matter how much she wanted to, for her sake and Alex’s.

At least he was someone she got along with well. She knew they would never be in love, for multiple reasons, but she wouldn’t be unhappy. Alex might, though. They’d stayed up late on many a night, him rambling about cute guys he’d seen amongst the palace staff or on his occasional trip to the city, her chatting about songs she’d been writing and the one guy she’d had a crush on, Nick.

Nick was the son of a nobleman her dad was very close with, and they were good friends, but she’d never acted on her little crush. Her feelings for Nick hadn’t really gone anywhere, it was just a lingering crush she’d had for a few years, but one that had faded with time.

Julie sighed, smoothing out her dress. It was simple but elegant, with a little bit of Julie flair. The silky violet fabric was cut in a slim fit to her waist, before gently flaring outwards towards her ankles. Off-the-shoulder straps revealed the dark skin of her shoulders, and the pearly embroidery of dahlia flowers around her waist shone in the light, tapering off as she twirled, though as she practiced her camera smile, it didn’t reach her eyes.

Alex was her friend, but neither of them wanted to get married. But she’d tried her hardest to get them out of it, to no avail.

So, as she sat down at her vanity, Julie closed her eyes and reminded herself the words her mother used to tell her every time she was scared.

It’ll all be okay, Jules. You’re strong, and you’re a diamond in the rough.

The words settled her stomach a little bit.

Her lady-in-waiting, Mira, knocked on her door.

“Come in,” Julie said. Mira bustled in, her flaming red hair pulled into a messy bun, her brown eyes sparkling.

“Oh, Jules, you look lovely.” Julie smiled.

“Thanks, Mira. How’s my hair?” Julie reached up to smooth her curls, which had been combed back and woven into a thick, braided knot at the base of her neck.

“Almost perfect, but it needs a little something,” Mira decided with a smirk. Julie had no idea what Mira had in mind, but she knew she would love it.

Before either of them could say another word, Flynn walked into Julie’s room, followed by her girlfriend, Carrie.

“Hey, underachiever,” Flynn greeted with a smile.

“Hey, disappointment!”

“Dude,” Flynn said, a serious look on her face. “That dress is the shit!” Carrie nodded enthusiastically.

“A definite look.”

“Thanks guys,” Julie said with a grin. “I love it, too! Mira’s got some sort of magic in her hands, because this is one of my favorites for sure.” Mira blushed.

“Well, I’m not quite done,” she admitted. “Jules, your color scheme is pink, purple, and blue, usually, right?”

“Yeah, usually! I can always get behind some other colors, though.”

“Of course. But I think for this dress, the pink-purple-blue scheme would fit the best.”

“Definitely,” Carrie jumped in. “The purple mediates the pink and blue, so those are like side accents.”

“I like this one,” Mira decided, pointing at Carrie. Carrie flipped her hair and smiled. “But yes. So, I was thinking for your hair, we could weave in some thin ribbons in those colors? It would be super simple, wouldn’t even have to take it out and restyle it.”

“Work your magic,” Julie instructed. Mira grinned excitedly and set to work, sitting Julie down at the vanity.

“Okay, Jules,” Flynn sighed. “I know you don’t want me to ask this, but are you doing okay?” Carrie took Flynn’s arm and nodded. “I know this isn’t what you wanted. Either of you.”

“I’ll be fine,” Julie decided. She didn’t want to marry Alex, and she knew he felt the same way. “At least it’s not somebody I hate, though. Alex and I get along really well.”

“I know,” Carrie added. “But that doesn’t mean you have to be okay.” A single tear rolled down Julie’s cheek, and she was grateful she hadn’t done her makeup yet.

“Thanks. To be honest, I’m not really okay, but I’ll live. And besides, it’s not for another three months. And having another friend around for a few months will be nice. Before, you know, I have to marry him.” Flynn let out a sad laugh.

“If I may add my input,” Mira began, “I’ve always hated the prospect of arranged marriages. At the very least, both people should have to agree with it.” Julie nodded, quickly stopping when she felt the ribbons Mira was weaving into her hair tug. “Sorry,” she added. “I’ll be done in just a moment.”

“I agree,” Carrie said. “It’s stupid. Dahlia and Tambor are already allies, so why are they even doing this?”

“I’m not sure, to be honest. My dad says it’s to ‘strengthen agreeability between our separate civilians.’ But at least tried to get me out of it,” she added. “King Xavier and Queen Claire both thought it was a great idea.” Julie had always held some bitterness towards Alex’s parents, given their closed-mindedness and apathy towards minorities and less fortunate people. Alex had always felt the same, and avoided coming out to them for those reasons.

“Well, I personally think it’s homophobic that my best friend is being forced to be part of an arranged marriage,” Flynn decided, “because I’m gay and it annoys me. Plus, you know, she doesn’t want to be part of it.” Julie couldn’t help but laugh at that, as did Mira.

“All done with the ribbons,” she said, handing Julie a mirror to see the back of her head.

“Oh, Mira, I love it!” The ribbons were braided through her thick hair, swooping around the knot, twisting through her own curls and holding the hairstyle together perfectly. Both pretty and practical.

“I’m glad!” Mira looked very proud of herself, for a good reason. Julie’s lady-in-waiting was definitely a woman to be admired (and feared - she’d taken down a full-grown man in a self defense class, while wearing heels). Julie could walk in heels, even run in them, but she’d tried fighting in them, and failed miserably. She might’ve been competent fighting in regular shoes, but heels were a different story. Mira, though, could do it all.

Mira’s phone dinged.

“Oh, Jules, it’s time for the pre-meetup photoshoot!”

“Got it. Thanks, Mira, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Forget about your photoshoots, probably.”

…

The photoshoot involved lots of candid shots of her in the garden, doing her best to look serene, and not show the anxiety bubbling in her stomach. But somehow, she actually managed to get through it without losing it.

“Wonderful, miss. Turn towards me, look to your left- yes, perfect.” The photographer’s voice faded as she obeyed his instructions, a human robot running correctly but with wandering thoughts.

“You look so natural, miss!” he complimented. Julie offered a smile, returning to her thoughts. There had to be a way to get her and Alex out of this. But she couldn’t think of any that wasn’t treasonous, illegal, or flat-out stupid. Of course, as a teenage girl, she felt she deserved to be a little stupid sometimes, but apparently that was “unbecoming of a princess” and “a bad influence.” Personally, she just thought that was biphobic.

-----

Luke POV

...

Luke hadn’t ever traveled much, let alone to a neighboring kingdom, so needless to say, he was pumped to get to visit Dahlia for three months at least. His hope was that, even though no one involved wanted the marriage to happen, they could find a bright side in him getting to stay with his best friend.

Of course, that didn’t change the fact that he felt bad for his charge and best friend, Alex. He knew Alex was gay; in fact, they’d “dated” for a few weeks when they were fourteen. But even after deciding they were better as friends, they were close, maybe even closer afterwards. Luke told Alex everything; he didn’t know if he had a secret that Alex didn’t know.

Everyone in the palace was used to seeing him and Alex wandering the grounds, goofing off, messing around in the music studio, what have you. Technically, Luke was a junior guardsman, and given his bond with the prince, had been assigned (along with an actual guard) to be his security detail. That had evolved into an even stronger friendship, though. Years passed, and soon they were inseparable.

Luke had done his best to cheer up Alex; seeing his best friend that upset was heartbreaking. But there was nothing he could actually do to help, so he settled for laying next to Alex on the floor and staring at the high ceilings.

An hour passed, and soon the afternoon sun was streaming into Alex’s room. Luke saw Alex drag a hand down his face.

“I guess you should start getting ready, then?” he asked.

“Probably.” Luke patted his shoulder. “Do you think it would be too drastic to fake my death?” Luke laughed, knowing Alex was joking, though it wouldn’t have actually surprised him. Alex and Julie were friends, but neither of them wanted to get married. Especially not the gay guy, very publicly, to a girl.

Luke stood up, giving Alex a mock salute, and walked out the door, closing it behind him.

He stood there for a few minutes, straightening his back as a senior guardsman passed him. He ducked his head in a nod, relaxing a moment later. As much as he might’ve come off as a chill guy, he was worried for Alex; even more so when he heard Alex’s breathing quicken from the other side of the wall, his footsteps pacing back and forth.

The panic attack shouldn’t have surprised him. Alex had clinical anxiety, and this was probably one of the most stress-inducing times of his life. Being forced into an arranged marriage - even if you’re friends with the other person - is no fun for anybody. And today he would be going to the Dahlia palace to stay for three months before the ceremony.

Luke fiddled with the hem of his jacket; it was charcoal black, and thick and protective, with eight buttons on the wide front, crossing his chest. He’d gotten used to it, but despite that, he still started sweating in the warm weather of Tambor. The red sash crossing over the jacket had golden embroidery on the edges, and he quite enjoyed running his fingers over the textured thread.

Luke could still hear Alex panicking, but there were no sets of three fake sneezes in between the rapid breaths, so he stayed. Alex was able to recognize when he needed support, and when he needed to be left alone.

Luke spotted Erik nearing him. He couldn’t stop him, but Erik was aware of Alex’s anxiety, so Luke wasn’t concerned. He smiled at Erik, giving him a look, warning him that Alex was having a panic attack. Erik nodded, knocking gently on the door.

“Your highness, are you alright?” When Alex didn’t respond, Luke jumped in.

“He’s a little panicky at the moment. Maybe give him a few minutes to settle?” Erik nodded, and Luke gave a relieved smile.

“You look nervous as well,” Erik noted.

“Well, I am, a little bit,” Luke admitted. “I’ve never been to Dahlia, but I’m going with Alex since I’m his head guard and Royal Best Dude™.” Erik grinned. “I’m excited, though! I bet it’ll be a lot of fun.”

“I’m so jealous,” Erik told him. “I’ve never been outside of Tambor.”

“I’m worried for Alex, though. He’s really nervous.”

“Yeah,” Erik agreed, a flicker of understanding rushing across his face that made Luke smile despite himself. If he was being honest, Luke had a tiny crush on Erik, but nothing substantial. “I mean, it’s gotta suck being closeted to everyone but a few people, and having to marry a girl.” Luke nodded.

“I wish there was something we could do about it.”

…

Luke stood guard off-camera while Alex had his pre-meetup photoshoot and interview. It was what he always did, though this time it felt different, like he was a silent supporter during a tough time, now more than ever.

If nothing else, he could reassure Alex that he looked fabulous in his suit - it wasn’t a lie, either. The navy blue fabric complimented his eyes perfectly, and the golden details were a stunning addition. Tie that with his sharp jaw and awkward, endearing personality? Anybody would simp for him. He had a feeling that many people did, too; Some of Alex’s best photos from these shoots would be printed in the Tambor Times Magazine, and he would also post some - as well as his own selfies - on his instagram. Luke had seen the comments, and always smirked at Alex given the amount of heart-eyed emojis and key smashes there were.

Luke stood behind the cameraman for the candid shots where they needed Alex to be smiling or laughing. No matter how much he practiced, Alex could never get a good candid smile, so Luke took it upon himself to stand behind the photographer making faces, or occasionally imitating their every move with mock seriousness.

When Alex’s musical laugh rang through the air, Luke patted himself on the back.

Worked every time.

He worked his magic for a few more shots afterwards, doing his best to make Alex laugh. It wasn’t just for the photos, though, it was to help him settle down. Luke knew this was a horrible situation, but there was nothing he could do to stop it, so he’d have to try to make it more bearable.

After Alex’s interview, Luke could tell that the reality of the situation was hitting him even more, as a flicker of fear shadowed his face, his hands clenched into fists. Luke walked towards him slowly, making sure Alex was okay with it, and when he didn’t retract, he put his hand on his shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze.

“It’ll be okay,” he promised. And as Alex seemed to relax, nodding and pulling Luke into a hug, that was when he knew.

Alex was his best friend, and didn’t deserve any of this pain or fear. He deserved for things to be okay.

Luke would keep that promise, no matter what.

-----

Reggie POV

...

Reggie knew he was Princess Julie’s honorary older brother; it had been that way for years, after he ran away from his own pathetic excuse for a home. He was lucky King Ray was a kind man; he could’ve just as easily left him there where he’d found him, a nine-year-old in the street of the raining Dahlia capital city. But he’d taken Reggie in, and soon, Reggie was part of the royal family, even if not by blood.

Now, given that he was Julie’s honorary older brother, he hated that she was being put into an arranged marriage. She was eighteen, for God’s sake! Reggie was nineteen, and knew for a fact he wouldn’t have been able to handle it nearly as gracefully as she did. Then again, while she was young, playful, and vibrant, Julie was also the epitome of grace and poise; she’d grown up in a palace, after all.

Needless to say, though, Reggie was sure he wouldn’t be able to not be protective of Julie when Prince Alexander came. He’d met him before, but only briefly; in passing after dinner during visits, mostly. It did help Reggie’s nerves to remember that Alexander was a very sweet, reserved person from his own interactions with the man. But that was his little sister, and while she wasn’t completely devastated, Reggie knew she didn’t want it to happen.

He dragged a hand down his face, flopping down on his bed. He wanted so badly to help Julie out of this, but he couldn’t.

Hey, at least he could cheer her up with his jokes! She always said they were awful, but Reggie knew better. Only the finest of jokes could make Her Royal Highness, Princess Julie Molina of Dahlia, laugh until her sides hurt, even coming from her honorary older brother, Sir Reginald Molina.

He smiled to himself. He might not be able to stop this whole predicament, but he could help her through it.

Reggie hopped up, fixing his suit. The silky red fabric of the vest hadn’t creased at all, nor had his grey suit pants, and yet he still felt the need. He did, however, roll the sleeves of his black dress shirt to expose his forearms, because come on. Even with Dahlia’s cool climate, he still got hot, especially when the sun was streaming through his windows, and he had a few photos outside before Prince Alexander’s arrival. Plus, it didn’t hurt that, according to his Instagram followers, the rolled sleeves made him look “personable” and “hotter than the sun.”

Reggie ran a finger over the shimmering black embroidery of the vest, then winking at the mirror and pulling his best finger guns. It was his god-given right as a fancy bisexual.

He ran his hand through his expertly-styled hair, letting some of his waves free from their stiff hold. It wasn’t the perfect style it had been when his butler styled it a couple hours ago, but it was more of his own style, which he liked a bit better. Spinning on his heel and slipping a hand in his pocket, Reggie walked out his door and down the light-filled corridor, down to the front steps, waving to Mira along the way. As he stepped outside, he heard people outside of the palace gates start shouting. He gave a wink and playful salute, even daring to blow a kiss in the general direction of a cute girl. He noticed Julie rolling her eyes, the photographer seizing the moment to take some shots of him on the palace steps.

He jogged over to Julie, wrapping his arm around her.

“How are you doing, your highness?”

“I’m doing okay,” she said, though both of them knew it was a lie. “How about you, Reg?”

“I’m okay as well. Just popping in to see my fangirls-” he winked at the crowd behind the gate, and a chorus of teenage girls (and a few boys) all sighed dreamily- “and check on you. We both know you’re lying.” Julie groaned.

“This whole thing just sucks.”

“Tell me about it,” he agreed. “But I’ll be here for you every step of the way. You know that, right dude?”

“You’re such a sappy loser,” she told him, and he put her in a playful headlock, posing for the camera.

“I know.” Reggie might’ve been a “sappy loser” of a brother, but he knew that, in Julie’s book, he was a sappy loser (affectionate), and that she understood that he was there for her.

Hopefully that would be enough.

-----

Willie POV

...

Willie had never actually gotten to know Princess Julie, but he’d met her a couple times. He was a chef in the palace kitchens, and on occasion, Julie would come down to try to get to know people. He’d never truly had a long conversation with her, but in the interactions they’d had, she was kind, and had a musical air to her.

He’d seen pictures of the prince she was set to marry, Prince Alexander of Tambor. If Willie was being honest, he was kind of cute.

Okay, really cute.

He’d never actually met the guy, but he seemed nice. His photos on Instagram had good vibes, at least. Willie couldn’t help but hope he’d get to meet him when he came to visit. If it was just because his brain was screaming cute boy, that was nobody’s business but his.

Willie sprinkled more flour on the dough he was kneading, folding it in some more. It was cathartic, this repetitive motion. It helped calm his ADHD sometimes. He kept going.

Sprinkle. Fold. Roll.

Kneading the dough until it wasn’t sticky, he listened to the head chef, Lilian, shout orders at the rest of them. She was a very intimidating woman, tall and muscular, with raven black hair in a sleek ponytail, and fair skin flecked with flour. But she was quite kind, Willie had come to learn over the years. She was just one of those people who scared you if you didn’t know them.

He put the dough in a pan, setting it in the oven and flicking on the light so he could monitor its progress, as could anyone else walking by. Wiping the flour from his hands to his apron, he then put his dishes and utensils in the giant dishwasher, finally washing his hands and grabbing a new bowl.

Tonight was the welcome feast for Prince Alexander. Willie and a few others were in charge of baking loaves of bread for the appetizers, as well as making the desserts; today, mini chocolate mousse cakes.

Dessert was always Willie’s favorite course to prepare, and not just because he could steal bits of frosting from the spatulas after he was finished. It was also because of how making desserts seemed to put everyone in the kitchens in a good mood. Maybe it was the smell of rising sugar, or the bright colors of the tubs of sprinkles, but he adored it.

He cracked the eggs into the mixture of butter and sugar, adding the milk and flour soon after. As he poured in the cocoa powder, a little bit poofed up, creating a chocolatey cloud. The noise of the mixture did nothing to silence his racing thoughts, though.

Would he get to meet Prince Alexander?

Would he like him?

And most importantly, why did he want to so badly?

Willie shook his head, doling the batter into mini cake pans and tapping them on the counter to get rid of any air bubbles, sticking them in an oven after it beeped to temperature.

Another oven beeped.

“Hey, Alyssa?” he called to a plump woman a few meters away. “Could you check on the bread in that oven to your right?” She nodded and leaned down, giving him a thumbs up.

“Probably needs another minute or so, but it looks great.”

“Sick, thanks!” Alyssa nodded and smiled, her dyed-purple hair shimmering in its bun.

Willie grabbed the ingredients he would need for the mousse, arranged them on the counter, then jogged over to the other oven and pulled out the bread - without putting on oven mitts.

He hissed in pain but didn’t let go, quickly putting it on the stovetop and running to a sink to run his fingers under cold water.

Willie already had tons of scars and calluses on his hands, both from cooking and skateboarding on his off-days, so the burn didn’t hurt nearly as bad as it would’ve a few years ago. And by some miracle, it didn’t blister - though it did swell and turn red. Willie cursed under his breath, heading to the first-aid kit and smearing some ointment on it and covering it with a bandage.

“Let me guess,” said Lilian from behind him. “You forgot oven mitts again?”

“Guilty,” he said with a grin. Lilian sighed, but didn’t manage to hide her smile.

“Willie, you need to be more careful. I know your brain always has, like twenty thoughts going at all times, but you could hurt yourself.”

“Twenty-three,” he corrected. “And I know, but you only live once, and I didn’t want the bread to burn.”

“Five seconds to grab a mitt wouldn’t burn the bread.”

“Hey, there’s a first time for everything.” Lilian rolled her eyes and gently swatted him on the shoulder. It wasn’t a mean move, of course, it was her saying she was exasperated but that she cared about you. Willie laughed and went back to his mixing bowl, getting ready to prepare the mousse.

This would be perfect.

#blue writes #be who you are (no compromise)#jatp #julie and the phantoms #juke #willex #flarrie #julie molina #alex mercer #willie nolastname #luke patterson #reggie peters #carrie wilson #flynn nolastname #royalty au #bwya tag

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stubz · 2 years

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your smile is a trap au

Despite being a talented florist, Mr. Cha was forced to close his shop due to a lack of business. Every single person avoided the shop, if not because of the man running it then because of the rumors surrounding it.

It's a front for some gang's headquarters

The owner is from prison

He keeps the bodies in the basement of his shop

It's like looking into the eyes of a devil with him

No matter what he did nothing changed, even with the help of his saintly neighbor nothing could make the public change their minds about him or his shop. After the closing of his shop, he was forced to accept those offers. No place other would take him. Lucky for him one of those offers was to work as security at a nightclub. It was surprisingly easy work, hardly anyone tried anything with him as security plus he was great at cooking, showing the staff plenty of small dishes they could make and serve here. While it wasn't as bad as he thought it would be, he still longed to have his own flower shop.

Lily would visit her dad often, simply standing outside with him and talking about how her day went and whatnot. Funny enough on the days she visited him at work things would become even calmer in the line. The owner took note of this and actually had her work whenever her dad was sick or when the place was busy. Nobody once considered reporting this due to fear and most overestimating her age.

Kiyu Ahn despite being a new rookie idol is rapidly gaining popularity. Incredible, to think that he was about to quit when he's this popular in the news. But as many know, it can be nerve-racking to be the center of attention, especially for such long periods of time. Which is why he is taking a break and hiding from the media at his grandma's home. But after an encounter with some of his...more devoted fans they realized that nowhere is really private nowadays. Which brings Grandma Ahn to a brilliant conclusion, why not have her neighbors help? After all their job is security!

Mr. Cha is much too busy though, Lily on the other hand is available.

#your smile is a trap #lily cha #kiyu ahn #webtoon #webtoons #web comics #no beta we die like men

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andromeda612 · 3 years

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Renga Fantasy AU

I've seen lost of fantasy Au's with Langa being the prince and Reki either the cute gardener, the adorable captain of the army, or any other common role that will be the prince's love interest... but what about Prince Reki?

I can see it like this:

Joe is the head of the cook and Reki's paternal figure number #1.

Cherry is the first advisor of the royal family and Reki's paternal figure #2.

Shadow is a guard and probably Reki's main bodyguard, he acts like he is annoyed by Reki's too energic and loud personality but in reality he is a big softie and has a weakness for the young and gentle prince, he is Reki's older sibling figure.

Miya is the son of a noble family, probably training for either being court sorcerer or knight, he is Reki's closest friend despite being younger, he sees Reki as his old brother and is very protective of him because in his opinion (and in everybody else's opinion for that matter) the redhead is too nice for his own good and someone needs to take care of him for god's sake! Of course he will deny it for ever and still be the tsundere he is.

Langa can be the son of a merchant and a doctor from another kingdom, after his dad dies his mother decides to go back to her home in the Kyan's kingdom (Okinawa), because of her reputation as a good doctor she gets a job in the palace as court physician. Langa stays with her at the palace and he could be either training for knight, physician or maybe sorcerer too but he hasn't decided yet, or even training for advisor under Cherry's wing. For the time being he just study with Reki.

Now in this au's Prince Langa main trouble is he feeling lonely or incomplete, Reki being the sun he is complement him and his trouble is of course his self confidence, I want to keep it that way even if Reki is the prince now.

So Langa feel not sad anymore but definitely off since his dad died, he used to love traveling with him, try new things, he loved the most all the things he could learn from the items he got to sell, he wanted to be a merchant like him but now he is not sure anymore, that's why that for now he is just studying along with the prince as he decides what he want to do with his life, he is not unhappy but he can't help but feel there is something missing, that's it until he meets the ray of sunshine that is Prince Reki, the royal is gentle and unlike other royal member he has met (due both if his parents jobs) he doesn't treat the rest with superiority, he traits everyone the same, with kindness, a warm and genuine smile, he actually doesn't act like how he was taught princes are supposed to act, he is loud and very energetic, he is polite and all, but he doesn't emanate an aura of someone to be afraid off or someone you feel intimidate with, he makes you feel like you are with a friend, he will talk and talk enthusiastically to no end... unless you show him you were bored, which was not rare to happen, with the prince being too kind and easygoing is was easy for others to forget he was the prince. But Langa could hear him for hours and never get bored, Reki showed him the palace and different places of the kingdom, he show him his drawings, all his crafts, the prince was incredible with smithy, he designed most of the best warriors' armors, as well as some of the innovative artifacts that helped so much in the kingdom, he showed him his passion for his realm and his passion for his hobbies, he was amazing... it's such a shame the prince is not capable to see it himself.

Reki for his part, he is the genius, creative sunshine we know. He is energetic and almost all the people loves him. Almost, because there is still the royal and nobles assholes that think he won't be a proper ruler because of his personality. As well as the people that get fed up with his energy. Those all are the people less liked in the kingdom. Though is really a trouble that the royal ones hold such power, because they really chose violence when it comes to Reki's self confidence. Especially because the most deep root for his insecurities comes from no other than his passed away father.

The king was... not a good man, the kingdom was not in ruins but the people were not happy, his family was not either, he would lash out to his wife and daughters, telling them they were good just to show of, to serve him, he was abusive with this staff on the palace and to his people, but who got the worst treatment was the young prince, since a child Reki was unquiet, loud, energic, totally the opposite to a centered, reserved and serious prince, he was also too kind with everyone no matter how much he told him he was above all the people, but Reki refused to be rude or mean to anyone, the only people that he lashed out to were the rude and cruel royals that abused of their power and were mean to people with no status or power. The king ruled with an iron fist and with stronger severity he tried to rise his heir, but Reki's golden heart was always stronger, however it didn't protected him from the abuse, the hard punishments and the constant reminders of how a failure he was, how he was worthless, how he was a mistake, how easy it would be for him to replace him if not were for the fact he needed a boy of royal blood to be his heir and he had no one, how annoying he was, that there was something wrong with him. And all the people that thought the same as his father had no seconds thoughts to remind him of the same in every. Single. Opportunity.

It was such a relief when the king died from a mysterious illness, and if anyone ever thought about it as a coup from the queen and the royal staff? Well nobody blamed them, but that was just a rumor and they were fine without him anyways.

Indeed, after the king's death the Kingdome went through a prosperity that haven't been seen in years. Despite what the king and his lackyes believed the Queen was actually a very well skilled ruler, she fixed the mess her former husband made and bring a new era to her people, she made new allies, she cleaned the corrupted government and brought new opportunities to the kingdom of Okinawa, the people were happy again. And her son, his ideas for artifacts to make certain tasks easier, his enthusiasm about cultural development, not mention that despite what his father said Reki was really smart, a total pride for his tutors even if his chaotic nature gave them green hairs, also his ideas to improve the army of the Kingdome, his ideas helped a lot to their realm's development. Many people called him the inventor prince.

However there were some royal asses that were not happy with him, there were invertors for that, there were artists, musicians, artisans for the cultural things, a prince shouldn't be look being so friendly and informal to commoners, shouldn't be so loud and idiot.

Not to mention the people that just... were fed up with his chit chat, and okay, they get it, Reki's personality could be overwhelming and even obnoxious to some people, but they needed to be so rude about it? The fact that must of this people were royal visitors didn´t help at all, Reki just felt he was embarrassing his mother and the Kingdome, no matter how many time she and the royal advisor Kaoru told him otherwise, or the fact that those people were usually not good allies at all.

Years of abuse and constantly hearing how a waste you were are hard to heal.

But, the love and support of the people that truly loved him helped Reki a lot, it was a long path but he was getting there. Though, the person that were really close to him, and you know who these persons are, know that sometimes the thoughts gets too loud on Reki's head, but they are there for him, and are happy to see that everyday the sunshine prince is doing better and better.

Well, and then of course the boys met and all of that, they help each other to find what was missing, to discover how much loved and worth they are.

The Queen and the court physician ship them, because this is my fucking au and I say love is love, you are who you are, no labels :)

Kaoru, Kojiro, Miya and Hiromi are definitely fondly exasperate with their mutual pining and just want them to just kiss already and spare their poor souls out of their misery.

About Ad*m... I don't know yet honestly.

In one hand I'm so tempted to make him not existing in this au. On the other hand he could be a major villain, maybe a lord wanting to make coup to the kingdome with Tadashi being a spy loyal to Queen Kyan. And I really want Langa to beat the shit out if him for messing up with his sun, but well, idk.

Any thoughts about this? Feel free to ask! 👀

#sk8 the infinity #sk8 au #fantasy au #prince reki #reki kyan #langa hasegawa #miya chinen #joe sk8 the infinity #cherry blossom #kaoru sakurayashiki #furuhashi kojiro #hiromi higa #shadow sk8 #reki deserves the world #simp langa #renga

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mellometal · 3 years

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Hey, everyone.

I've tried to compose myself before making this post. This is a subject that I've touched on a little bit in posts, but I've never done a deep dive into JUST this topic. I was going to make a post solely about this subject sooner, but this one in particular is really hard for me to talk about without getting emotional...and yet Dhar Mann has talked about this on quite a few occasions in the most insincere, toxic ways. I'll do my best to discuss this topic without getting too emotional.

It's about a serious subject that people still are ignorant about and don't take seriously. Even to this day, with the body positivity and body neutrality movements. (I don't know of a better way to describe just being neutral about your body. Sorry if it sounds weird.)

For anyone who doesn't know what I'm referring to (honestly, I don't blame you, as this is a subject that's often seen as normal and is encouraged in society for the most part), I'm talking about fatphobia. Hating on people for being fat. Discriminating people because of their weight in the workplace, at the doctor's office, just in general. Not many stores having inclusive sizes. People being treated like they're subhuman because they're fat.

I want to say this first, before I bash on Dhar Mann again: I'm a plus-size young woman. This is something that I have personal experience with. Your weight has no significance to your worth as a person. If you do happen to be overweight, obese, whatever, you're not subhuman. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. You're worthy of being loved, listened to, treated with kindness, and respected, just like anyone else who isn't fat.

If you treat people like utter shit for their weight, get some help. Why do you care about somebody else's weight? Obviously there's an exception to this, like if they're so big they can't move or they're so skinny their organs are showing....because those are causes for concern, but other than that, mind your own business. Even if they are in those extremities, unless you're their doctor and/or their family, STILL mind your own business. How the fuck does a fat person simply breathing and existing affect you in any way? News flash: there will always be fat people.

Before I get to the weekly ritual of tearing TWO of Dhar Mann's videos apart (the next one will be in another post or I'll reblog this post and continue on there), here's an obligatory trigger warning for the video analysis itself and my response: The following post contains fatphobia, fat shaming, a man being super fucking misogynistic and treating women like they're objects, and there's even a touch of some racial aggression. How shocking. Because Dhar Mann really seems to get a kick out of writing about racism to make it all cute. Oh yeah, you're totally solving racism, Dhar Mann. /s

My response contains my experience with fatphobia, relationships with food, mentioned/implied thoughts of s3lf h@rm, feeling like I'm unworthy of being treated like an actual person because of my weight, and absolute rage. Like usual. My responses are very heated. This one especially. It's LONG. Buckle up.

With all this out of the way, let's get to the first video that I want to tear apart. This one is about the auditions for a record deal. I will get to the video about a kid wanting to be a host of a radio show later.

To sum up the first video, a plus-size white woman (Krissy Elliot) is singing for an agent (Isaac) and his assistant (Evette) so she can follow her dream to become a singer. Isaac cuts Krissy off to viciously bash her for being a plus-size woman. Evette stands up for this woman, and says she sounded fine and to let her finish. Isaac doesn't listen to Evette, let alone take what she said into consideration. He continues to ridicule Krissy for her appearance, that she'll "never make it in the music industry" (WRONG, do you know how many plus-size people are in the fucking music industry? There are A LOT more now than when I was growing up and it honestly makes me so happy. There were more plus-size people in the entertainment industry than in the music industry back then.), suggested that she "become a chef or a food critic" because she apparently loves being around food (being a chef or a food critic are noble professions, but NEVER fucking assume ANYONE'S relationships with food), to the point where Krissy left the room in tears.

Here are a few screenshots for context:

When this skinny, conventionally attractive woman (Jesse) comes in, Isaac's mood does a COMPLETE 180° and he's all sunshine and rainbows. Then right as soon as Jesse did her audition, Isaac is over the fucking moon, complimenting her physical appearance, treating her like an object, and signs her up for a record deal RIGHT AWAY. Pay attention to Isaac's facial expressions in one of these screenshots.

Evette suggests that they sign Krissy for a record deal instead. Because she was "the best singer they've had all day". Isaac, still all hot and bothered by a skinny, conventionally attractive woman that he's treating like an object, tells Evette that people like Krissy don't make it in the music industry because they're "overweight and unattractive", and is verbally aggressive towards her when she does nothing but explain her stance. Isaac sees this as Evette "talking back" (remember how I mentioned that there's racial aggression? He says that Evette is "talking back" because she happens to be a black woman) and fires her. He signs Jesse a record deal and has a blast with her.

The award ceremony comes around, and they're picking a winner for Best New Artist. They pick the winner, and it's....guess what? You'll never get it! It's Krissy Elliot! Why? Because Evette became her agent after Isaac fired her. Krissy goes into her whole story about how she was laughed out of every single agency and that she worked hard. Good for her. Jesse is obviously very happy for Krissy. We gotta love women supporting women.

This video was again another dumpster fire. As usual. Like I said, with this video in particular, I couldn't get through the first thirty seconds the first time around. Because I've dealt with shit like this. Obviously not with the music industry because I don't even think I'd be good enough to step into an agency...but I mean in my personal life.

Being told by my own dad that he was "tired of buying bigger clothes for me" when I was a young teenager, despite him buying almost nothing but "junk food".

Having my abuser make comments about my weight and talking about diets while I'm trying to eat my food, despite her being overweight.

Having someone I know (not anyone I'm friends with) make a comment about me eating a few things (ONE small piece of broccoli, two baby carrots, a small handful of chips, and ONE small piece of pineapple) and said to "save some for everyone else", even though I was saving food for everyone else, which is why I took so little. She tried to justify it with the fact nobody was there yet (why do you think I took very little food?), and she "was saying that to everyone" (why did she look at ME when she said that instead of making it clear that she was talking to everyone [saying "Hey, everyone" before the comment about saving some for everyone else IS NOT HARD]?), even though I know it was just to save her own ass. I knew she said that to me because I'm plus-size. She didn't say anything to anyone else, nor did she make it clear that she was talking to everyone.

Another person I know (not a person I'm friends with) saying that I overreacted (I did not overreact; SOMEONE TRIGGERED ME and you did NOTHING about it) even though they all KNEW my relationship with food is complicated. They KNEW that I don't really like eating in front of other people. I was upset that someone MADE A FUCKING DISGUSTING, TRIGGERING COMMENT ABOUT ME EATING VERY FEW FOOD ITEMS, ALMOST ALL WERE HEALTHY, DESPITE OTHER PEOPLE EATING A LOT MORE THAN I DID AND PICKING AT EVERYTHING. That day, I was begging one of my friends (one of the people I trust to eat around) to PLEASE take me home because I didn't want to be there (never wanted to be there in the first place), I was tired (I worked all night the night before and was forced to go to a meeting before all this happened), I didn't feel comfortable there anymore, there were way too many people (four individuals plus all their staff from another house were in the house I work in), I couldn't breathe (I was either about to pass out, have a panic attack, or just start crying), but nobody listened to me. I ended up getting a bus to go home.

(Sorry about all that. I was trying not to get emotional in this post. I just needed to share how this can affect people.)

Onto my response, which is all in the screenshots below.

ETA: I know the screenshots for my response are very jumbled right now and it’s difficult to read. I apologize to anyone who’s unable to fully read it! Because this is part one of this whole subject of fatphobia (I’m making a post about the boy wanting to become a radio host very soon), my response here will tie into that post. My response to that video is vastly the same, despite not making a comment on that video as of right now (the radio host one).

I’ll be typing out my full response here. I apologize for weird formatting. Instagram wouldn’t let me break up my response into paragraphs. I’ll break them up into paragraphs here instead.

CC (Combination of the first, second, and third screenshots, aka, the first part of my response):

I have a few questions before I get into my thoughts on this video. One, how the hell does your weight have any significance on your worth as a person, and if you do think this way, why would you think that? Two, do you know that fatphobia is a lot more than just judging a person for being fat? Three, why do you feel like you can speak for fat people like myself with this piss poor excuse for a video that I could barely get through the first thirty seconds of the first time?

You can’t speak for any of us. I can’t speak for every fat person because not everyone has the same experiences as me.

I’ve been bullied for my weight in real life as well as online. People have called me ugly just because of my weight. By the way, your weight doesn’t equal beauty, and that’s what I’m still learning. Beauty comes in all shapes and sizes.

On quite a few occasions, I have actually thought about doing dangerous things to my body that I don’t feel comfortable going into here. All because I had people try to boil me down to my weight, call me ugly, and destroy whatever self-esteem I had left. You don’t know what fat people go through, so don’t act like you do.

There are many factors that go into why a person may be fat, including medical conditions, mental illness, trauma, genetics, etc. All of those things are none of your business unless those people decide to be open about it.

No, it’s not always healthy to be fat (obviously there are extremities on both sides of the spectrum of weight that are extremely unhealthy), but it doesn’t make a person any less of a human being. Fat people are human too. Quit treating us like we’re not. We deserve to be treated like everyone else who isn’t fat. I’m not saying put all fat people on a pedestal. I’m saying treat us like human beings.

CC (Combination of the fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh screenshots, aka, the second part of my response):

Remember how I said that fatphobia isn’t just about judging people for being fat? Well, there’s the “fat tax” on plus-size clothing (even though it maybe only costs a little bit more in fabric, if there’s any difference in making clothes for people who aren’t fat), limited styles for fat people in stores (making a lot of us have to buy fast fashion or have to spend a fortune on clothes that actually flatter us), not very many stores have inclusive sizes still (if you don’t at least carry max 5XL or a size 38/40 in pants size, you cannot call yourself inclusive), and a lot of other things.

Many fat people, myself included, are afraid to seek medical attention for anything (even checkups) because of doctors who only focus on our weight and not on what we came in to see them for. They write it off as if our weight is the sole cause of our problems, which isn’t always the case.

How about we talk about how expensive it is to eat healthy in a lot of places? Not everyone can afford to make fresh meals every day, let alone once a week. Maybe they were never taught how to due to their upbringing. You don’t know.

I’ve had people comment on my weight, what I’m eating (even if I’m eating something healthy like fruits and veggies), talk about my weight or diets EVEN WHILE I’M TRYING TO EAT, and it’s caused me to wait until I’m alone or around someone I trust to eat anything. As a result, I have a complicated relationship with food now.

Telling someone they’re fat doesn’t help them. They know that. They see themselves every day. People may want to change, but they either are afraid to ask for help, or they don’t know where to start. Some may not want to change. It’s up to them, honestly. If you want to help them lose weight, maybe suggest any physical activity they’d have fun doing and do them with them? I dance for fun. Also, you could help set up meal plans with them.

If you’re not going to at least try to help them lose weight if you’re so concerned about them (this is all if they actually want to change things and don’t know where to start), I cannot say this in a sweeter way: shut your mouth and mind your own business. Because you’re just being a cunt at that point.

CC (eighth screenshot, aka, the third and final part to my response):

There are quite a few plus-size people in the entertainment industry as a whole who are/were very successful. Remember the late Chris Farley and Aretha Franklin? Chris Farley was big, but that didn’t change how great of an actor he was, how funny he was, or how much of an impact he made in the entertainment industry. Aretha Franklin was a plus-size black woman in the music industry, but she’s inspired SO MANY artists we have today! There are many plus-size men, women, and I believe even nonbinary people in the public eye in general. Like I’ve said, beauty comes in all shapes and sizes. That’s why the body positivity and body neutrality movements are a thing.

(I know I implied that I thought about sh here in my response, but please don't worry about me as far as that goes. I'm fine now. I would never go through with anything like that.)

In the last part of my response where I mentioned some plus-size people in the entertainment industry as well as the music industry (the late Chris Farley and the late Aretha Franklin), I was going to name more people, but my comments were getting too long. I'll name some more here off the top of my head:

Lizzo (rapper), the Piggy Dolls (the first K-Pop girl group made up of actual plus-size women), K*v*n Sp*c*y (I don't feel comfortable saying his name because he's a disgusting person, but he's another plus-size man...he was in King of Queens and in A LOT of movies), PSY, Greyson Gritt (a genderqueer person in the music industry), Elle King, Produce Pandas (the first music group in China full of plus-size men), Martha Wash, Chubby Checker, Fats Domino, Big Angel (a J-Pop group of all plus-size women), Chubbiness (another J-Pop group of all plus-size women), Pottya (another J-Pop group of all plus-size women)...there are so many that I found, but if you want to add more plus-size artists, plus-size actors, plus-size comedians/comediennes, feel free to add them in the comments!

Dhar Mann, you'll never know what plus-size people go through. You don't know what we go through. You have NO IDEA what we go through on a daily basis. Stop acting like you do. Because you don't, and you never will.

By the way, Dhar Mann, this will NOT be the last post I'll make about you or your videos. The more you make fucking deplorable, poorly written bullshit, the more posts I'll make! Teehee!

If you got this far, thank you so much. The next part of this is coming very soon. I'm sorry for not posting too many screenshots from the video. I wanted to fit in my response because it's important for people to see.

Have a good day/afternoon/night, y'all. Love you!

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spine-buster · 4 years

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The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 17

A/N: Soooo just a quick note that in celebration of my birthday on August 23rd, I’m going to be doing a DOUBLE UPLOAD WEEK NEXT WEEK. That means you will be getting Chapter 18 on Monday August 24th and Chapter 19 on Thursday August 27th, both at 7:30pm EST as my gift to you. YAY! If you are able, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi at ko-fi.com/spine_buster if you appreciate it and like what you’re reading! Otherwise, ENJOY!

January 14th, 2020

Aberdeen Bloom was looking forward to the All-Star Break.

With Kasha going to Aruba with her dad and the Leafs on the bye-week, she was looking forward to spending eight days completely alone and devoid of any work before she had to fly out with the team to Nashville. Though she’d just had a mini-break at Christmas, this was much more substantial. She knew she would be able to recharge and re-energize herself for the second half of the season – the second half she knew the team would have to push hard through to make the playoffs. Because not making the playoffs was not an option.

After what had happened four days ago after the Night With the Blue and White, Aberdeen had been in a weird place mentally. Though she didn’t regret a thing that happened that night, and she didn’t regret anything she’d said to William, what happened between them was still wrong. In every way, it was wrong. And because it was so wrong, and it went against everything she believed in, every boundary she put up for herself and put so much time and effort into upholding, she knew nothing could come of it. It couldn’t go any further. They couldn’t become boyfriend and girlfriend. They couldn’t date. They couldn’t do anything.

They shouldn’t kiss again.

They shouldn’t have sex again.

But was that actually going to happen? Or would their feelings get the best of them again and lure them further into a passionate affair they knew should not, could not happen?

Five days ago, she had been pretending to be aloof about William Nylander. Four days ago, she’d had sex with him and told him she loved him. Three days ago, they’d started texting regularly, after months of one-sided text messages on his part. Two days ago, the team had suffered a bad loss to Florida 8-4, and they talked on the phone for what felt like the entire night about it when he got back into Toronto. One day ago, he’d FaceTimed her after dinner and she answered the call. Today, he promised her he’d score a goal for her and followed through with that promise.

Aberdeen was spiralling. She was getting lost in William, and William was getting lost in her. But she didn’t put a stop to absolutely any of it.

After the game, she had to go back to her desk to pick up a few things she’d left there. Brendan had come back with her, going into his office secretively and shuffling some things around. Half of her wondered what he was looking for, while the other half didn’t care since she should be on her way home right now anyway.

“Aberdeen?” he called from his office just as she had finished packing up her things. “Can you bring me the proofs so I can take them home?”

Aberdeen grabbed them from the drawer in her desk and walked into his office. He was looking over the score sheet when she held them in front of him, smiling, and he looked at her briefly before taking it. “The All-Star Weekend is one of the most important weekends of my entire year. We have three of the guys going. I need the best possible team with me,” he said, barely looking at her, though his voice was steady. “That no longer includes Peter.”

Aberdeen’s smile disappeared instantly. She realized almost immediately what he was implying. “Wait. You want me to…no, Brendan. I…” she exhaled sharply. “Peter—Peter would die. He’s been talking about the All-Star Weekend since Christmas. I—I can’t do that, Brendan, I can’t,” she shook her head. She knew how much it meant to him. Meanwhile, she was looking forward to sleeping in. They weren’t the same, and only one of them refused to go.

“If you don’t go, I’ll assume you’re not serious about your future…with the Toronto Maple Leafs or any other publication,” he said. He finally looked at her, giving her an up-down she wasn’t familiar with at all. Usually she got them for her looks or outfits – many girls did – but this was something completely different. An up-down from a boss that said he was sure of his decision and nobody could convince him otherwise; like he was saying “Are you sure you want to say no to this” when they both knew she didn’t have the option. “The decision is yours.”

She couldn’t believe him. She couldn’t fucking believe that he had already made the decision for her. She didn’t want to go. She didn’t need to go. Peter wanted to go. Peter needed to go. “But—”

“That’s all,” he said dismissively, like he usually did. He gave her one last knowing look. “Goodnight, Aberdeen.”

She stared at him for a brief moment before angrily turning on her heels and walking out of his office. She couldn’t believe she was just put in that position. There was no way she could say no after that, even if she’d wanted to. She knew that it must have meant that she had done something right, after all the things she’d done wrong, but it was still taking an opportunity that wasn’t hers to take. Peter went to the All-Star Game. Peter mingled with all the players and GMs and Presidents that attended. Not her. She grabbed her jacket from her chair, threw it on herself, and threw her purse over her shoulder before walking out of the office.

She took the long way back to her apartment, despite the cold, to think things over. What had made Brendan and Kyle come to that decision? Who the hell brought it up? Who agreed on it? She needed answers that she’d never get. Back in November, when Mike Babcock was fired and Brendan and Kyle thanked her for not leaking anything to the press, she’d told Kyle how she would never burn the bridge she had with the Leafs and how she wouldn’t take advantage of the team or someone for personal gain. He’d said that she was young, but he appreciated someone with conviction. Did she still have that conviction? Did she still have that conviction now that she’d slept with William and put her job in jeopardy? Did she still have that conviction now that she was following through with what was basically an affair with William, which was against personal beliefs and company policy? Did she still have that conviction now that she was taking an opportunity from a co-worker, a friend, who had been nothing but nice to her and helped her along her rocky path instead of calling her Girl Friday and feeling her up in the staff kitchen?

She didn’t know what to think anymore. In many ways, she didn’t know who she was anymore. She’d completely lost any sense of old Aberdeen. But the problem was, this – what she was feeling right now – wasn’t new Aberdeen. It wasn’t. She was still Aberdeen Bloom, just another version of her. She’d always had this in her. She’d always had the drive, and the work ethic, and the want and need to impress the people around her. The outcome had just been different. Before, it was good grades on essays or being published in Acta Victoriana and the Hart House Review. Now, the outcome was taking opportunities from others – others she could put a face, name, and personality to. Others she called co-workers. Others she called friends. Before, they were nameless and faceless.

Now they were named Peter.

She didn’t know how the news would be broken to Peter, or when, but she knew he wouldn’t be happy about it. Maybe it had already happened, for all she knew. She just hoped she didn’t have to be the one to do it.

***

January 16th, 2020

It was maybe an hour before the game when Aberdeen felt the energy in the office shift. Kyle had just left Brendan’s office and had spoken with Aberdeen briefly about the happenings of the day, making sure she’d be in the box during the game against Calgary that night. Brendan had followed him out, for the most part, and when Aberdeen noticed him walking back, he looked serious.

“Aberdeen, don’t forget to tell Peter,” he said before he popped into his office. He gave her one last look. “Do it now,” he encouraged, closing the door behind him.

She exhaled sharply. She was going to kill him. So they hadn’t told him, and they’d left it to her to do their dirty laundry. She was going to kill them both – she liked Kyle, but she’d kill him too. Now she had to find Peter, get him alone somewhere, and break the news to him. She got up from her desk and began to look for him – it didn’t take long, thankfully, because she found him scurrying through the hallways, like he always was.

When he noticed her, he gave her a quick nod. “Hi, sorry, I know I’m late with the report Brendan wants—”

“No, Peter—” she tried to begin as she got closer to him.

“It’s just Kyle wanted a new scarf from Hermes, and he did tell me yesterday, but I forgot like an idiot and so I freaked out, of course—”

“Peter—Peter, I need to talk to you. There’s something I have to talk to you about,” Aberdeen stressed.

Peter calmed down slightly. “Well, I hope it’s not another Brendan or Kyle problem, because I’ve got so much to deal with before I go. I swear to God, I—”

“Peter,” she said sternly. “Can we…can we go inside your office? Please?”

Seeing how skittery she was, Peter agreed and led her into his office and closed the door behind him. He set his things down on his desk before turning to face her. “What’s going on, Aberdeen?”

She hadn’t prepared anything to say, so she knew she was going to just word vomit once the moment actually came. She’d tried to think of ways to say what she needed to say, but nothing came out right, and nothing softened the blow. She knew that no matter what she said or how she said it, Peter would be angry. “You’re not going to the All-Star Game,” she said plainly.

Peter looked taken aback by the statement, like he didn’t understand. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You’re not—listen, after the game against New Jersery, Brendan called me into his office and told me that he and Kyle decided I was going, not you,” she said. She didn’t want to say Brendan’s exact words, how he needed ‘the best possible team’ and that it ‘no longer included Peter’. That would be too harsh.

“What do you…I…” he couldn’t formulate any words. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. “Did you say no?” he asked, his tone suddenly changing from one of confusion to one of anger.

“He was on the verge of practically firing me if I said no!” she exclaimed. It was somewhat true, but mostly a lie. He was basically dangling every opportunity she could take advantage of in the future in terms of writing over her head. In Aberdeen’s mind, that was worse than firing.

“I don’t care if he was going to fire you or beat you with a red-hot poker! You should have said no!” Peter exclaimed.

“Peter, I didn’t have a choice!”

“Oh, please!”

“You know how Brendan is!” she tried to reason.

“That is a pathetic excuse!” he turned away from her, so angry he felt ready to burst. Aberdeen didn’t know what to do. She knew he would react angrily, but she didn’t know just how angrily. She also didn’t expect the blame game to be put on her rather than Brendan and Kyle – the two men who actually made the decision. He was beside his desk at this point, having paced for a while to cool down. “Do you know what really just…gets me about this whole thing? It’s that, you know, you’re the one who said you don’t really care about this stuff, and you don’t really care about hockey. You want to be a writer. What a pile of bullshit!”

Aberdeen winced. “Peter, I know you’re mad. I don’t blame you—”

“Face it, Aberdeen. You sold your soul the day those boys took you out to dinner in St. John’s. I saw it,” he accused, his voice so scathing that a lump formed in Aberdeen’s throat. “And you know what really just kills me about this whole thing, is the people you are going to meet…I mean, you don’t deserve to! You don’t even like hockey, for Christ’s sake! God it’s so unfair!”

Being chosen over him was one thing. But being told by Peter she didn’t deserve it was another thing. She tried to remember that he was really angry, that his dream had essentially been snatched away from him, and that’s why he was saying all these mean things, but it got to her. She’d been working hard since the day she stepped into the office, and he’d been helping her, and even though she had her fair share of gaffes and slipups along the way, it didn’t cover up the fact that she worked hard. In his anger, Peter didn’t see that. “Peter—”

“Just go,” he said, his voice softer as he crossed his arms across his chest.

“Peter, I—”

“I said go!”

Aberdeen sighed. At that moment, she knew there was nothing she could say, and nothing she could do to calm him down or soften the blow. He was angry at her, and he’d stay angry at her for the foreseeable future, until he got over her going to the All-Star game – if he ever got over it.

***

The boys had lost 2-1 in a shootout. William had scored the only true goal of the game, but she was so despondent she almost didn’t even care. The conversation she’d had with Peter kept playing over and over in her head. Brendan could tell, apparently, because he let her leave right after the game.

It was barely less than five minutes from when she got home that her phone buzzed on her kitchen countertop. She’d placed it there so she could take a swig from the bottle of wine she and Kasha had opened last night.

can u buzz me in? don’t want to wake kasha

She pressed the button and kept the condo door open with her boot. When William walked through the door, still in his game day suit, she was taking another long swig. His eyebrows immediately furrowed. “Are you alright?” he closed the door and locked it behind him.

She didn’t know how to answer that question. She gulped her wine. “I’m going to St. Louis.”

“You’re going to St. Louis for the All-Star Game?”

“Mhm. It just happened,” she nodded her head.

“That’s one of the biggest weekends of the year.”

“Mhm.”

“I mean, are you going with Brendan, Kyle, and the guys?”

“Mhm.”

She could tell he was trying to piece together why this was affecting her so much – why it was making her swig a bottle of red wine and not bother getting a glass. “I thought the All-Star Game was a big deal for Peter, or…” he tried to clarify.

God. If even Willy knew about how much it meant to Peter, then it was an even bigger deal than she thought. “Great. Now you’re gonna give me a hard time too?” she demanded, setting the wine down on the counter before stomping her way towards her bedroom.

“Hey hey hey, Aberdeen. Aberdeen—”

“I didn’t have a choice, okay? Brendan asked me and I couldn’t say no. He was dangling every future opportunity for writing over my head,” she whipped around to talk to him.

William had dropped his bag by the door before he approached her, wrapping his arms around her. “I’m not trying to give you a hard time,” he said softly. “I just…that’s news, that’s all. The guys know that it’s usually Peter that goes. But if you’re going now you must have done something right.”

“But I don’t know what I did,” she melted into him. She could feel herself get emotional. “And I don’t want to take that opportunity away from Peter. He lives for All-Star Weekend.”

“Minskatt, you didn’t take an opportunity away from Peter, you earned an opportunity to go,” he encouraged her to think of it differently.

She sighed. She didn’t really want to talk about it anymore – talking about it more just made it worse for her. She wondered if Peter was throwing plates against the wall in his apartment. “I think I’m more upset about not getting a full eight days off,” she mumbled, causing William to giggle. She looked up at him as he still had his arms wrapped around her comfortingly. “Can we cuddle?”

William smiled down at her. “I even brought a proper change of clothes this time.”

They made their way into her bedroom, William bringing his bag with him. They changed into their pyjamas. Minerva was already rolled up in her cat bed, but when she saw them, she meowed and jumped on the bed. As Aberdeen looked at William move about the room, she realized that she felt so comfortable already, so at home in her bedroom that he moved around without any hesitation. He even pulled back the covers himself, knowing she wouldn’t mind, and got in first, holding the covers up for her to get in. Minerva ended up curling up at his feet. Even her damn cat couldn’t get enough of him.

She stood hesitantly. She stared at him. “Just cuddling.”

William stared back at her. He nodded his head like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Just cuddling.”

She got in. William draped the comforter over her and they got comfortable. Almost immediately, she melted into his touch as he wrapped his arms around her, his big body engulfing hers just the way she liked it. She didn’t think she’d ever get tired of it. They closed their eyes and settled into a comfortable silence briefly. “I’ve never even seen your place before…” Aberdeen thought out loud. They’d only ever met up at her place.

“It’s your typical place,” he said. “Kitchen, bedroom, whatever. I haven’t bought a place here yet so nothing is really my own. I’ve got a bigger bed,” he joked.

“Everybody has a bigger bed than I do.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he dismissed it. She felt his lips on her neck as he kissed her tenderly. “I like cuddling.”

***

January 21st, 2020

Aberdeen had spent the last three days alone writing.

Kasha had gone on a last-minute trip to Aruba with her dad, so Aberdeen took the time in solitude with Minerva to write anything and everything that came to her mind. A lot of it was about the last six months. Not about her illicit love affair with William, but more important things: growing up, facing the truth about yourself, getting your first ‘big girl’ job and having to survive in a male-dominated environment. More than anything, Aberdeen liked to think it was about the overarching and universal truths people in their early 20s had once they left university and entered the real world, where things were tricky and few people were nice and there was almost always an overwhelming sense of ‘What the fuck am I doing?’.

William had gone to Augusta, Georgia, to golf with some of the boys. He’d texted her when he got there, plus some photos of the golf course and some selfies he snuck while the other guys teed off. She mostly sent him back pictures of her laptop with a Word document open, or pictures of Minerva sprawled out on her bed or couch. At night they’d keep up a conversation, when he wasn’t on the course. She wondered if any of the guys wondered who he kept texting all time, or if he was able to keep in discreet.

She missed him.

She hated to admit it, but she did. She missed his stupid blonde hair and his stupid scruffy beard and his stupid thick body and his stupid tender touch and his stupid laugh that was like Beethoven’s 5th Symphony to her stupid ears. She missed cuddling with him. She missed seeing him at the rink. She missed everything about him even though she shouldn’t.

When she finished editing one of her personal essays, she decided to call it a night. As she cleaned up the kitchen, putting the last of her dishes in the dishwasher, there was a knock at her door. She paused briefly because she wasn’t expecting anyone.

She looked through the peephole, only to see William in one of his absolutely stellar (read: awful) casual traveling outfits. She opened the door. She saw he even still had his suitcase, telling her he came straight from the airport.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, finding herself moving out of the way for him. When she shut the door behind him, she ended up with her back against it.

He walked in to her apartment with ease, wheeling in his bag and leaving it by the closet that held the washer and dryer. “You said Kasha is in Aruba with her dad.”

“Yeah…”

“And it’s the bye-week. I just got back from Augusta.”

“Yeah…”

“So…that means we can be alone,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“You’re really going there, aren’t you?” she asked as she watched him approach her.

“Did you expect anything less?” he asked, so close that now she was trapped between his body and the door.

She shook her head. “No. No I didn’t.”

And then he kissed her. And he couldn’t stop. And she kissed him. And she couldn’t stop. And he pinned her against the door, his knee going between her legs as he raised her hands above her head briefly before bringing his own hands down so he could pick her up. She stuck her tongue down his throat. He squeezed her ass. She wrapped his legs around him.

He sighed contently, as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. “God I miss you so much,” he mumbled against her lips.

“Me too,” she admitted out loud as he bit down on the skin of her neck.

“Bedroom?” he asked quickly.

Aberdeen should have said no. Should have. But instead, she nodded her head.

***

January 22nd, 2020

The notebook was wide open on the coffee table in the living room, a blue Muji pen in the spine, the bookmark ribbons sprawled out. It was the only thing on the table besides a giant three-wick candle. William knew he shouldn’t look at it. It was the middle of the night, for heaven’s sake. But as he drank his glass of water, he became more and more curious as to the contents. The pages seemed full of beautiful cursive.

So he sat down on the couch. He picked up the notebook.

Maple Leaf Forever

The job interview went horribly. I was sure I’d offended Brendan Shanahan, president of the Toronto Maple Leafs. To make matters worse, the outgoing executive assistant told me, before I entered his office, that I was deeply unqualified for the job. I didn’t watch hockey; I had no clue who Mats Sundin was.

It came as a shock, then, when Brendan called me back into his office and told me I was his new assistant.

William read on, completely enamoured with the words he was reading on the page. He flipped through the notebook and read the entire personal essay. Then he flipped backwards to the previous piece she wrote, and read that too. He saw the scribbles and the crossing out of entire lines and paragraphs. He saw planned out notes. He saw poetry.

Sometimes William looks at me like he’s the spoon and I’m the dish of ice cream. I wonder if he sees that, in my weak moments, I look at him the same way……….

I’ve gotten used to the sounds of the blades scratching the ice. Quickly, it has become one of my favourite sounds……….

I am a daughter of immigrants. I am a granddaughter of the Iranian Revolution. I am a daughter of The Troubles. Revolution and change course through my veins……….

He saw and read so much of her writing that he felt like he knew her so much more now. There were so many things about her, so many things in her mind, that she hadn’t told him yet; so many things he longed to learn so he could know her fully and completely. He didn’t want to know surface-level Aberdeen – he knew that Aberdeen already. He wanted to know what was inside Aberdeen. The deeper parts of her. The parts that he could love more. The parts that would make him even more hopelessly in love with her.

No wonder she was already published in those two literary journals. And no wonder she wanted to be a writer. She was a great writer. She had a way with words. He couldn’t believe that after sending out her work everywhere, nobody chose to publish it. They were stupid. She was fantastic.

And he wasn’t just saying that because he was in love with her.

***

January 23rd, 2020

“Have you ever thought about sending your stuff to Toronto Life magazine?”

William asked the question as he sat opposite of Aberdeen in her bathtub. Their bodies were submerged, a bath bomb thrown in, and everything was quiet. Everything. The only sounds made were the slight splashes of water if they moved a hand or if William grabbed at her leg. They had been staring at each other for a while, the heat of the water still soothing them and their bodies.

Aberdeen stared at him. “Of course I have.”

“Have…have you already?” he asked timidly, not wanting to bring it up in case she did and they rejected her.

“No,” she said. He was relieved. “Their writing is, like, top tier. I don’t think I’m there yet. Even the personal essay submissions they have in the back of the magazine are phenomenal. The stories are amazing. I don’t think anybody wants to hear from a 21 year old single white female.”

“But your voice is so amazing,” he said without thinking.

“How would you know? You’ve never read my writing.”

There was a silence between them. He knew he couldn’t tell her that he’d read her writing when she was asleep after they’d had sex. He also knew he couldn’t lie to her, not while they were in the tub together during such an intimate moment, and not ever. “Come here,” he said. She hesitated. “Come on. Come here.”

Aberdeen shifted in her bathtub slowly, so no water would spill out, and moved so that she was cuddled against William now, her back against his chest. She felt his strong arms wrap around her, one right beneath her breasts, the other dangerously close to her core. If the hot water hadn’t relaxed her enough, his hands on her breast and near her core definitely did. She sighed happily as she felt him massage her breast and pinch her nipple. She felt his cheek against the crown of her head before her tucked his face into the crook of her neck, giving her a light kiss on her shoulder. “I never want you thinking that your writing isn’t good enough to be submitted somewhere. You should be submitting it everywhere. Everything you write,” he whispered softly.

“But Willy, you’ve never—”

“Listen,” he cut her off gently. “I saw one of your notebooks on the coffee table the other night, and I couldn’t help myself. I’m sorry. But you’re good, Aberdeen. You’re really good. You write and it just flows, and I…I don’t know how to explain it in any other way, because I’m not as good as you, I’m not good with words and speaking and stuff, but it was amazing.”

Aberdeen stayed silent. William was nervous, having admitted to snooping and reading her writing – at least some of it – but the fact that her body didn’t stiffen when he did admit it gave him a glimmer of hope. Then again, she could just have been processing it and getting ready to throw him out of her apartment naked with his clothes thrown out the window. When she finally spoke, she said something William wasn’t expecting. “I just don’t think anybody would want to hear what I have to say.”

He shook his head, giving her another kiss on her shoulder. “I think everybody should hear what you have to say.”

“You’re just saying that cause you’re feeling me up right now,” she said, a hint of laughter in her voice.

William smiled. “Am not. You’re so good, Aberdeen. Fuck anybody who has ever told you otherwise.”

Aberdeen knew what he meant by that. She knew he didn’t mean fuck the editors or the copywriters – they were just doing their job. What he was saying instead was fuck any person in her life that told her she couldn’t make a career out of writing. Fuck Zane. Fuck Corey. Fuck any other guy who made her feel horrible about herself, who belittled her ambitions, who thought she should pursue something different. Fuck them all. She craned her neck to look back at him, and brought her hand up to caress his face as she kissed him. “I can read you some more when we get out of here,” she whispered, her lips still close to his. “If you want.”

“I’d love that.”

***

“More.”

William stared directly into Aberdeen’s eyes as they cuddled on her couch. “More?” she questioned.

“More,” he affirmed. She began reading her writing again.

***

“More.”

Aberdeen hooked her leg around his waist as they lay in her bed together. “More?” she questioned.

“More,” he affirmed. She began to read her writing again.

***

“More.”

William looked up at Aberdeen as she straddled him. Pants firmly on. He just wanted to sit this way. He was intensely comfortable with her on top of him. She didn’t seem to mind either, especially since his hands found her thighs.

“If I read you any more, I’m going to have to start taking out my high school diaries,” she joked.

“Then do it,” he squeezed her thighs and dragged his hands up to her hips. “I want more.”

“Willyyyyy…” she dragged his name out, the smile still on her face as she bent down to give him a kiss. Her old notebook from university was between their bodies.

“More,” he mumbled against her lips. He genuine wanted to hear more, but he couldn’t stop kissing her. He could feel the old notebook press against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her, and could hear it fall to the floor as he moved to pin her underneath him.

***

January 24th, 2020

“It’s going to be fun. I promise,” William said as he peppered Aberdeen’s face with kisses, unable to let her go just yet even though their shoes were on and their bags were packed, the early morning sun peeking through the windows of her apartment. “You’re going to meet so many cool people.”

Aberdeen sighed. She knew this was an amazing opportunity, and she was going to take full advantage of it, but she wanted just a bit more time with William. All they had done over the past three days was eat good takeout and have great sex. Oh, and read her writing, of course. It quickly became her favourite three days of the break – so much so that she didn’t want it to end. Whenever she was with William, she didn’t want to be brought back down to reality, back down to face the fact that what they were doing was wrong.

“You just gotta promise some other guy doesn’t whisk you away to another team,” William added.

Aberdeen giggled. “Please. Like that would ever happen.”

“I don’t know, minskatt. You’re really cute. I might have to ask Auston or Fred to keep an eye on the other guys.”

She chuckled, burying her head into his chest. She couldn’t let go of him either. She didn’t want to – at least not yet. “Are you gonna miss me?”

William didn’t even answer. Instead, he leaned down and gave her a long, drawn out kiss, one that made her sigh into his mouth and left her begging for more. It answered the question for her. He watched as she licked her lips. “You’ll be in Nashville?” he asked. She nodded. “Dallas?” he asked. She nodded again. “Can I come see you after the game?” he asked one more time.

She knew that meant he wanted to come to her hotel room. He’d snuck in quite easily before, obviously, and nobody had suspected anything, but they still had to be extremely careful. “We’ll see,” she said, not wanting to confirm or deny. For all she knew she’d have a room next to Brendan.

William accepted what she was prepared to give him. “We’ll see.”

She looked down at her watch. Brendan and Lou were supposed to be there any minute. In less than six hours she’d be in St. Louis, and in just less than twelve she’d be watching the Skills Competition. “I should start heading down,” she said, even though she was reluctant to do so. “Remember to wait until I text to come down and leave.”

“Do you have to go?” he asked sheepishly.

She smiled. She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him one last time, giving him the same long, drawn out kiss he’d just given her. “Bye Willy.”

William bit his lip. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He smiled. It wasn’t just a one-off. “Bye minskatt.”

“Don’t miss me too much,” she said as she opened the door to her condo.

He was holding on to her hand until it was too far away for him to grasp. “Impossible.”

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lov3nerdstuff · 3 years

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Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.12}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 4.4k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

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The time before the actual welcoming feast seemed to stretch on forever this year. The sorting took longer than usual, or at least it felt like that, and Dumbledore's speech seemed even more repetitive and boring than it always had. Robin guessed that it was the 48 hours without a meal that had her desperately looking forward to the beginning of the feast, and seeing as nobody else seemed to be bothered by how long it all was taking, she probably was right to think so.

In her impatience, she started fiddling with whatever cutlery she had within her reach on the table, tapping her feet, nibbling on her bottom lip… until the people around her were starting to be seriously irritated by her behavior, upon which she forced herself to stop. Instead, she went for her usual inspection of the staff at the head table. What was sitting up there like? Did they ever feel observed, or were they used to it from all the time they got stared at in class? She should ask about it, at some point.

Other than a few more wrinkles here and some new robes there, things really hadn't changed; they never did. While Dumbledore was speaking in the front, the teachers behind him were unsurprisingly not paying all too much attention. Sure, they all made the impression to be listening, but when Robin followed the line of faces, she could see Sprout quietly chatting with Hooch, Trelawney taking more interest in her goblet than in her colleagues, Hagrid and Flitwick having a very subtle argument about something… and then there was McGonagall, talking to Snape as if there wasn't even a speech she ought to be listening to. Robin inevitably had to smile when she saw the two; McGonagall being very much focused on whatever she was saying, while Snape was listening carefully but pretended to be entirely uninterested at the same time. Robin realized that he might very well do that to everyone who tried to talk to him about anything of minor importance. Then again… he was always listening to whatever she was rambling about, without a single spark of indifference. The thought made her smile even more. Perhaps he simply didn't bother with the facades around her anymore because she knew better anyway.

When the meal finally started, Robin was more than happy to indulge in the different kinds of food, and somehow everything tasted better than she remembered it to. But after weeks of living off whatever was cheapest in the store that day, a fully cooked meal like this was the most luxurious thing she could think of in the first place.

"I don't think I've ever seen you enjoying your food that much." Jorien remarked after a while, and Robin had to fight the embarrassment that wanted to paint her face.

"Yeah, didn't you get any breakfast at home?" Cas chuckled while she again picked the mushrooms out of her mixed vegetables and moved them over to Robin's plate. Some things just never changed.

"Good question, you've certainly lost some weight over the weeks of summer…" Jorien added, and both girls looked at Robin expectantly for an answer.

"I had quite a bit of exercise during the holidays, more than I usually get. Running through nature all day, every day, is a workout in itself. Perhaps that's where the weight went." She only shrugged in return, putting it off as nothing like she did so often when she didn't want the girls to know the truth. "I'm sure I'll be back to normal in no time now that we're back at school."

"You should eat dessert, too, then. Your robes look too loose like that, the fit needs some curve!" Cas replied in an expert manner, and Jorien only snorted while rolling her eyes. Robin however didn't mind, and when the time came, she had dessert indeed.

When the feast was over at last and the students started filing out of the hall to head to their common rooms, the three girls were among the very last to leave, as were Simon and his friends. The group split up into three segments in the entrance hall, Cas and Jorien heading to the Slytherin common room and the Ravenclaw boys to their own, while Robin wanted to tag along with her roommates for the way down to the office. But she didn't even get to the staircase before she was whisked away from the two girls –who were accustomed to her sudden disappearances by now– and she found herself in a gloomy ground-level hallway she hadn't even known existed up to this point, with a racing heart that only changed the reason for its speeding but not its pace itself when her eyes fell onto Snape two steps away now. Bloody hell… he shouldn't do things like this if he didn't want her to just lose it at some point.

"Was that really necessary?" She huffed in amusement, and couldn't help smiling up at him anyway. "I was just on my way down to the office to find you!"

"That is precisely why it was necessary." He replied calmly, with the barest hint of a not-smirk. "I have to patrol the castle grounds tonight, Minerva asked me to switch places with her. So no sitting in the office for now."

"Lovely." Robin sighed under her breath, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned back against the cold stone wall behind her. "And here I was, thinking that I would finally get to have coffee with you again after a week of being alone."

"We still can, after patrolling. Are you accompanying me like always?"

"Obviously." She gave him a small smirk once more, leaning her head to the side. "Are you making me coffee afterwards as a fair compensation like always?"

"Obviously." He rolled his eyes in feigned annoyance, which only made Robin grin more. "I must admit, a week without your insufferable self really turned out to be quite dreadful after all."

"Good. I missed you too."

"Is my house still standing?"

"Would it annoy you more if I said yes or no?" She asked innocently, rising her eyebrows once more, and her heart skipped a beat when he actually smirked for real in return. Always a delight to see, no matter how frequently it happened by now when they were alone.

They started sauntering through the hallways then, like they had done in the past school year as well, in search for students breaking curfew or any other inconveniences they could only hope not to encounter. Patrolling really was something Robin couldn't help but wonder about. Usually it meant for one professor to wander the castle alone, in the dark, without anything to do other than trying to make the night pass by as soon as possible. How dreadfully boring that must be; she was glad that she could make the dull task a little better for Snape by joining him in the misery of it at least. That way, they at least could chat and joke and bicker like always, only a bit more quietly. The portraits still grumbled at them from time to time, which however they simply ignored as they moved along. After an hour, they had caught up on the week's few events on either end, and Snape was quite obviously annoyed by the fact that Robin had spent two days without a meal. It took her a good twenty minutes to convince him that it was fine, and even more importantly, that it was in the past now and thus didn't matter anymore. Still, he seemed to be rather upset with himself about the issue, but Robin knew better than to push him, so she merely changed the topic, and eventually they were back to the usual. Other than that the night was considerably eventless.

It was only when they were passing through an almost empty sixth floor hallway when Robin picked up on a noise to her right, thus stopped walking abruptly and listened instead. Snape followed the example an instant later, and they stood in the middle of the hallway for a moment to listen to the silence, until the odd noises picked up again, from behind an inconspicuous door on the wall to their right a bit further down the hallway.

"Isn't that… just a broom closet?" Robin asked in an irritated whisper, frowning to herself first and then at Snape, until her brain made sense of the circumstances and she felt the heat creeping up her neck. "I, uh… I don't think I want to open that door."

"Neither do I." He grumbled in return, glaring at the door as if it would change anything about the awkward situation. "But as it happens to be, I will have to and you do not. So go ahead and spare yourself the embarrassment if you wish to."

"Nonsense. I'm not letting you suffer alone." She was quick to reply, then made the final few steps to stand with her back against the wall across from the door, and the very second Snape had caught up with her, she opened it with a wordless spell. It was ironic, really, that she didn't mind doing uncomfortable things in his place for the sake of sparing him from it.

The door flew open with a start, two startled yelps could be heard, and Robin's eyes fell onto two kids she had never seen before, which meant they had to be in the years below. They were still mostly dressed, it seems, and she was honestly glad for that at least. No need to make things even more awkward for anyone involved. Both the boy and the girl, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff respectively, quickly snapped out of their shock and straightened their clothing before trying to stammer out poor excuses for what they were doing in a broom closet at this time of night. Honestly, Robin just wanted to snort at their words and actions every other second, but she kept a perfect straight face of neutrality as always while Snape held his usual speech about rule-breaking and improper behavior that she had been a witness of often enough at this point. Never on the receiving end, obviously, but they had encountered enough students out of bed during their patrols that by now she could almost mouth along with his words. She only started actually listening again when Snape turned towards her.

"Could you accompany Miss Parlow to Professor Sprout's office?" He asked neutrally, but without the scowl he had directed at the two students a mere moment before. "I will see to it that Mister Sterling finds his way to Professor Flitwick."

"Yes, of course." Robin found herself replying before she thought, and only once she had agreed so easily, she thought that he had never asked her to do this before. It definitely was an act of trust rather than a burden, she knew that, and that's why she was all the more determined to see even this easy task through.

"Who exactly are you anyway?" The Hufflepuff girl eventually asked, as Robin led her through a few more empty hallways. "No offense, but you look like a fifth year, maximum. Why on earth are YOU escorting ME?"

"That isn't of your concern." Robin replied indifferently, and she was glad that she had decided to take a shortcut to Sprout's office. Perhaps she would ask Simon about the girl, they obviously were in the same grade.

"And why on earth would you wander around with Snape at this time, or at any time really? Is this your detention or something?" The girl asked on, and Robin sent her a glare that shut her up instead of answering the questions.

A few minutes later they reached the herbology professor's office, and Robin knocked three times, then waited while the girl by her side grew more and more nervous. When Sprout opened the door at last, Robin gave her a polite smile, then explained the situation shortly and to the point upon which the girl was ushered into the office.

"Thank you, Robin, I will take care of the issue from here right away." Sprout gave her a smile in return at last, while the girl in the office behind her now looked positively startled. "Tell Severus my thanks too, will you?"

"Wait, YOU are Robin? The girl who everyone's been talking about for years?" The girl in the office asked incredulously a second later, and finally she just seemed absolutely horrified. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry about what I said! Please forget I ever said anything at all, I honestly didn't mean to upset you!"

"Seems like you have inherited some of Severus' reputation after all, huh?" Sprout snickered quietly, and Robin almost had to smirk at her words in return.

"Actually, I believe that this was mostly my own doing." She replied under her breath. "Ever since that incident in my fourth year, people have been weary of me, and as it seems, rumours and legend grow stronger over time. I doubt that any of the lower years even knows what it all is about anymore, but that doesn't stop them from believing in my reputation."

"Take it as a gift, dear. It is hard to come by their respect in any way, especially when you're that young yourself." Sprout sighed quietly, then gave Robin another encouraging smile. "Well, anyway, I hope you two have a good night!"

"Likewise, thank you." Robin returned, and only when Sprout shut the door behind herself, leaving Robin alone in the hallway, she frowned at the herbology teacher's words for a moment before finally making her way back through the hallways to where she would meet Snape in the ground-level hallway they had started out in.

But again, Robin didn't get that far; Somehow, people seemed to take joy in disrupting her plans today, and it left her feeling less in control than she would've liked. This time, how could it be any different, it was Morgan who stepped into her way out of nowhere.

"Miss Mitchell, what a delight to have you back at last. For the new term, of course." He smiled at her brightly, and the hairs in Robin's neck stood on high alert in an instant.

"Professor…" She greeted him politely, but when she tried to walk around him while keeping her head low like she ought to, he blocked her way again, this time getting way too close for comfort.

"And where would we be headed?" He inquired in a bright tone as he moved in even closer, making Robin back up until her back hit the wall. Well… damnit.

"I was just on my way back from Professor Sprout's office." She replied truthfully but quietly, in an attempt to keep her facade up and play the submissive little girl. The act still made her feel sick, but she hadn't forgotten their encounter at the ball; it was very much necessary to refrain from fighting back, and she had done a fairly good job at it ever since adoption this strategy.

"I see." He sighed softly, but still refused to back up even a step. He clearly didn't mind invading her personal space, which became all the more obvious when he traced a single finger along her collarbone and down her shoulder. Robin would've very much liked to break his arm for doing that, but such a behaviour unfortunately wouldn't count as laying low. So she only stared at the ground a few steps behind him and tried not to break her act while he spoke. "After making it to honours in herbology and even giving a lecture in front of renowned professionals in the field, I'm sure you can teach Pomona one thing or two…"

"You… you know about the lecture?"

"It was in the news, darling." He purred with a sickening smile. "I still have the article in my rooms… And the picture, of course."

The thought that Morgan had kept a picture of her made Robin feel even more sour than the situation did anyway, and she honestly just wanted to hex him further down the hallway with a single spell and then dash off like her body and mind were telling her to. But that would count as attacking a teacher, and without any witnesses or proof of her story, she would always end up on the losing end of that scenario. Whatever she did, people would believe Morgan's version of it more than hers, more than the truth.

"You have lost some weight since the picture was taken…" He finally spoke on, in a nonchalant tone that still had a cutting edge to it, and at last he removed his hand from her arm. "Say, doesn't Severus feed his little pet enough?"

A cold shudder ran down Robin's spine, at the same time as her stomach churned and her heart stopped for a moment, then started racing. She felt sick now indeed, scared and sick and far too close to panicking. Morgan was obviously playing with her, trying to get a reaction… but she wouldn't give him one. At least not the one she wanted to give, which was precisely the one he wanted to see.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She breathed in sincere fear, which was working in her favor for once. Why cover up something that was helping the act?

"Oh, I'm sure you do." He smiled at her in a mixture of humour and some twisted kind of adoration. "What do you get out of it, huh?"

"I have no idea what you're implying, but whatever it is, you're absolutely wrong. Sir."

"I mean, Miss Mitchell, that he gets a beautiful and spectacularly talented woman all to himself, devoted as you clearly are. But what do you get from him in return?"

"You're wrong…" Robin croaked out in a whisper, but she couldn't even think of anything else to say to defend herself without starting a war right here, right now.

"Don't tell me I wouldn't find his fingerprints on your skin if I were to take a look… Don't tell me you don't want him to save you right now." He hissed, and his hand was back on Robin's shoulder, squeezing painfully like he had all this time ago down by the forest. She winced involuntarily, and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment to keep the gathering tears from spilling over. Perhaps it wasn't so difficult to play scared after all… not when she really was terrified out of her mind for real.

"Let go of me. Please." She tried to get out as calmly as she could, but her shoulder was hurting enough to make her grit her teeth. The pain didn't suffice however for her to miss how his other hand traced her collarbone once again, only to move towards her neck this time. Her urge to fight back grew to the unbearable, and she had to ball up a bunch of fabric of her robes in each hand to keep them at her sides. "You have no right to touch me, nor to threaten me. So, Let. Me. Go."

"You were supposed to be mine, you know…" He sighed sadly, and his fingers traced down Robin's neck, following the thin silver chain of her necklace across her chest to the point where it ran beneath her blouse. Then he tugged the chain up until he held the locket between his fingertips. "It was supposed to be you and I until the end. But Severus just had to get in the way, didn't he? I shall make sure he sees the error in claiming what is mine."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Robin's emotions were finally gaining the upper hand, and her voice shook with anger and fear alike. "But if you try to harm him in any way, I shall make sure that I will be the very end of you."

"Ah, there you finally are again, my dear… I have missed you." Morgan held her gaze with a smirk for a moment, then his eyes traveled down to the locket and inevitably also to her cleavage. "So fierce… So full of passion." With a start he yanked on the necklace, and the thin chain bit deeply into Robin's neck before coming undone.

Damnit, her act was blown, her neck hurting and her shoulder was still trapped in his punishing grip. Robin had given him exactly what he wanted, she knew that, but it was too late to change that now. Even her facades had a breaking point, and Morgan had found it at last. Yet, he still kept her pressed into the wall by her shoulder as he inspected the locket in his hand curiously for a moment, then looked back up at her with a sneer.

"I'm sure you won't mind if I keep this for a while, will you? As a reminder of what ought to inevitably be…"

"Fuck off." Robin hissed in return, dropping every hint of submission to glare up at him in pure hostility. "If you truly believe yourself to be entitled to me in some sickening way, you're even more eaten up by insanity than I thought."

"Insanity is such a vile word, darling… I am dedicated, just like you are. We have more in common than you think."

"You're nothing like me."

"No, I'm certainly not." Morgan chuckled softly and took the last step closer to press Robin into the wall with his own body now. "But that doesn't mean we have nothing in common."

"Get away from me right now or you will regret it." Robin said coldly, and finally released the balled up fabric from her hands. Witnesses or not, she would rather get expelled for attacking a teacher than letting herself be assaulted like this.

"Oh please…" Morgan scoffed in a dismissive tone, and after slipping the necklace into the pockets of his robes, he placed his now free hand against the wall next to Robin's head. "I'm not scared of Severus. And I'm certainly not scared of you."

"You should be." Robin stated under her breath, then focused her entire energy and willpower into a wordless spell that had Morgan flying through the hallway indeed, a good twenty feet even, before he came crashing down on the ground with a gruesome cracking sound.

For a moment he merely groaned and hardly even moved, but Robin still drew her wand from her sleeve and pointed it at the professor in determination to do whatever was necessary to defend herself. No matter what he was about to do now, she wouldn't let him catch her off guard. Not again. But she also wouldn't be the one to attack, not even when he deserved it quite so much at this point. But to her surprise, Morgan simply sat up after a while, hissing in pain, but with the biggest smile on his face.

"This should suffice to get you expelled." He chuckled to himself, overly happy at the prospect, so much so that he simply wouldn't stop grinning.

If anything, this proved Robin right in her assumption that he had been trying to coax such a reaction from her. But then again, she was absolutely certain that his behavior, his words and actions, hadn't been just for show. He wouldn't have bothered to keep her locket if it had been, he merely could've destroyed it or tossed it aside. But he wanted a trophy, and he wanted HER, that much she was certain of now. Only didn't she know what he wanted her for, or why. He certainly despised her, he had absolutely hated her for all these long years, and yet, now, he still wanted her in some twisted way… Robin didn't understand. Not even nearly, not when his behaviour was so different all of a sudden, and yet so very in line with everything that had been in the years before. No, Robin didn't understand at all. But when Morgan scrambled to his feet and limped back towards her, she didn't get the time to think about it any longer.

"A broken bone or two are quite the lovely evidence you presented me with. I shall thank you, my dear." He smiled at her sweetly once more, but stopped a few steps away now that Robin kept her wand pointed at him and bowed ridiculously low before her. How could anyone be like that?! She didn't understand, none of it, but Morgan didn't cease to scare her beyond reason anyhow.

Robin was just about to reply when she heard footsteps approaching quickly from her left, and Morgan seemed to notice them too, for he turned to look right into that direction as well. Three seconds later, Professor McGonagall stepped into the dim light of the few candles that lit up the partial crossing Robin and Morgan were standing in the middle of.

"Oh, Minerva!" Morgan went straight at it, his smile suddenly gone and replaced by a brilliantly feigned pain stricken expression. "Thank God you are here… You have to stop her! I… I think she broke my leg, perhaps my wrist as well, when… when she attacked me!"

McGonagall inspected the scene with wary eyes, taking in Robin's unfaltering grip on her wand that she still kept pointed at Morgan, then her colleague's pity-evoking appearance and pleading eyes. Robin knew that it looked beyond bad for her; what an ironic repetition of the event that had started it all six years ago. The same people, the same situation overall. Morgan was making Robin the villain of his story, himself the obvious victim, and McGonagall had no clue about what had really happened, but she was made to be his judge either way. But honestly, Robin didn't have it in her to defend herself like a bloody child caught in the act anymore. If she was asked for her version of events she would gladly provide it, but she wouldn't try to change opinions that were already forged in stone. If this would mark her fall from grace, she would at least fall with some last scraps of dignity.

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sadselfhelp · 3 years

Text

Who I Am, And Why I Created This Blog.

TRIGGER WARNINGS - Mental Illness, Self-Harm, Child Abuse, Domestic Abuse, Violence, Drug Overdose, Suicide, Psychotic Breaks.

Take a walk with me, let me show you around the mind of The Sad Hatter.

There's a lot going on in my head right now, and I feel like I'm on the precipice of something. I'm standing on a cliff's edge and I'm either going to plummet or I'm going to fly. It's been building inside me for a long time, and I can't contain it anymore. So here it is, here's me laid bare, because I need to say this, I need to put it into words. I need to purge it all. To try and make sense of all of this shit in my brain, I think it's time I organize it. I don't know where to begin, but I guess I start at the beginning and make use of the ability to edit.

Before you read this, please be aware of the trigger warnings. And please understand that this is the most honest and open I have been, I really am stripped bare in this piece of writing. It’s not at all pretty, and am I not guiltless in parts. This may well alter whatever opinion you have of me.

I guess the beginning is birth, right? But I don't want to rehash all that trauma, so let me speed through it. Twenty-Eight years ago I was born, violently. I'm serious, I ripped my way out of the womb, and tore that thing apart. I guess I can sort of understand why my mother couldn't love me after that was my first act, collapsing her womb. So let me speedrun this part of the story. Mum didn't want me, gave me to my dad who raised me as a single parent with the help of his parents, until he met my stepmother. Shockingly, she didn't want me either, but because she couldn't get rid of me she decided to physical and psychological torture was the next best thing.

When I was eleven years old I snapped and didn't want to put up with it anymore, so I wrote a goodbye note and then snuck into the medicine cabinet and took a bunch of pills. Spoiler alert, I didn't die. I did however end up in a children's home, cue more abuse, little bit of bullying and sexual assault etc.... I snapped again, but instead of turning my anger inwards, I became an absolute bastard. Ok, I still turned it inwards a bit, I had a lot of anger, and now I have a few hundred scars to prove it. But, it turns out that violence can beget violence, and I acted out in every possible way. Racked up a horrifying rap sheet, assault, vandalism, arson, and finally... GBH. I was supposed to get put in a secure unit (child prison – Scottish Edition) but I was always able to talk myself out of trouble.

See, I was this tiny little white girl with big sad eyes and a hell of a sob story, even at the bottom of the food chain I still had privilege. So instead of getting locked up, I just got sent to a different home. And here's the really messed up part, this home was better. The staff were nicer, and nobody hurt me. My behavior literally changed overnight. I went from being charged by the police on a weekly basis, to never getting so much as a pocket money sanction. I will never excuse my actions, nor condone them, but after years of guilt I finally realized that the bad things I did were in retaliation to a bad situation, and though I wasn’t acting like a good person, I’m not a bad person, just a messed up one.

I still refused to go to school though, because though I didn't yet know it at the time, I had severe social anxiety. I was smart, a little too smart to be honest, and I found myself thriving with a private tutor. When the time came to sit my exams, someone fucked up, and despite having record breaking test scores on the pre-exams, I never actually got to sit my standard grades (think SAT's – Scottish Edition). I'm still bitter about that. So by this point in the story, I'm 16, and legally an adult, too old for a children's home. I got turfed to a hostel, and the next few parts of the story are pretty fuzzy to me.

This is where my mental health really started to deteriorate. I bounced between homeless hostels and B&B's for a year or so, until I got a my first flat/apartment. By that point, I was utterly fucked in the head. I was blacking out frequently, for anywhere between a couple of minutes to three days. I would come back to myself in sometimes compromising positions, and once there was blood. A lot of blood, splashed all over the walls. Then there was the time I suddenly found myself standing in the kitchen, about to plunge a knife into my own chest.

Nobody ever did tell me what the hell that was about. Or maybe they did and I just... forgot? But because I was extremely suicidal, a doctor finally decided to do something, and the police and the paramedics came to my door to take me to the psychiatric hospital. I spent ten months there while I cycled through various anti-psychotics and anti-depressants, and was 'rehabilitated into society'. The second I was out, I made the worst decision I have ever made in my life. If I can give you one piece of advice, one lesson to take from my shitshow of a life, it's this: Don't move hundreds of miles away to be with the guy you met online while you were having a psychotic break.

I've never really thought of myself as a victim, but I guess I'm the only one who saw it that way. Ben, that was his name, Ben was a monster, and I didn't know it until it was too late. He never hit me, never lifted a hand to me, he never had to. He could put a knife in my hand and make me hurt myself for his entertainment. I had told him everything, so he knew exactly how to break me down, how to make me want to bleed. He locked me in a house and used me up. And when I had enough, and tried to break free of him, he would just tell the police I was mentally ill and they would smile sympathetically and give me back to him.

But then my dad had a breakdown. My dad, who when he found out what my stepmother was doing to me, buried his head in the sand and packed my little suitcase for me. I hadn't spoken to him in a while until he reached out from the same psychiatric ward I had not long vacated. He had cracked under the realization that I had never lied about her, and the guilt broke him apart. I could have hated him, if it had happened a few years earlier then I would have. But I had experienced enough of the world to learn a few things, like how easily it is to fuck up, and that no matter how strong you are, you aren't immune to monsters. The truth was he was as much a victim of her evil as I was. She had manipulated him, played with his head, used his insecurities against him. So I helped him through his issues, the way I wished someone had helped me. That doesn't really make me a good person, it just makes me human.

But my dad got better, and found his footing. And when he did, he realized something wasn't right with me, and I told him the truth about Ben. My dad had left me to suffer at the hands of an abuser once before, and he wasn't going to allow it to happen again. He came and got me, and he took me home. He moved me in with him, gave me his bed and slept on the couch. After a couple of months, he helped me get my own place.

And that's the happy ending, right? All the trauma was over, I was safe, that's where the story should end. Right? I bet you're not naive enough to believe that, but I sure as hell was. I thought I would recover and that everything would be ok. I thought that with safety, there would come the chance to heal. I thought my wounds would scab over, and I would have my scars but at least I would be able to move without bleeding out. But that's not how trauma works. I had two decades worth of trauma, abuse, and hell.

I just... faded. I didn't crack, I didn't crumble, I didn't break, I just stopped. For five years I sat in one room of my home, drowning inside myself. Last year I got handed a lifeline, and now I live somewhere better. I'm not really allowed to live independently so I actually live in kind of retirement village of all places. I have my own house, but it's got intercoms and emergency cords everywhere, I get checked on daily by on on-site worker. And I'm trying to get better, I really am. It's just not that easy.

There's more to the whole story that I maybe should have put in, like the fact that my mother was a drug addict when she was pregnant with me, and that may have been the reason some of my organs didn't properly form and/or formed wrong. My lung split in half when I was a baby, and parts of my stomach are missing. Or that my mother is full on batshit insane. I could have had a perfect childhood and I still would have been mentally ill. Hell, I was seeing psychologists at five years old. Take my sketchy genetics, add twenty years of severe traumas, and well... I'm a little fucked up. Because a lot of medical conditions use acronyms, my full list of diagnosis looks like I'm collecting the fucking alphabet.

I have Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD), Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD), and Agoraphobia. I also have a Pulmonary Sequestration, Congenital Diaphragmatic Hernia, the stomach and lung issues. Immune Hemolytic Anemia, I'm basically allergic to my own blood. Plus, ya know, my liver recently decided to just fucking nope out, the pissy lil bitch is failing. I also may or may not have cancer, I don't know because I pussied out of the tests. At this point I am a walking, decaying corpse that is held together by glitter glue and bitterness.

So... why exactly am I writing this? And why am I even considering posting this? I mean, my problems aren't as bad as some other people's. We've all got shit to deal with, especially in 2020. The whole world is falling apart, so what right do I have to sit here pouting and pouring my problems out? Well, for a start, I guess this is my blog, I can post whatever, and it's up to everyone else if they read it.

So here it is, you have the backstory, so here's what it's all been leading up to.

I'm struggling. Like, really struggling. I'm stuck on this cliff, and I want off, any way I can. Whether I fall or fly, I just want free. I can't live like this anymore, because I can't breathe.

The fucking agonizing duality of being socially anxious and too easily overstimulated, and yet feeling fucking empty inside if you're not surrounded by action and noise. The world is too noisy for my brain, but my brain is too noisy for the world. I get antsy if I'm not doing at least a thousand different tasks, but I get overwhelmed if I try to do anything at all. It leads to short bursts of mania, followed by weeks of depression. But underneath all of that, under all the dramatic showboating, and the dark humor, under all the bravado... I'm really just sad.

Years ago, when I first came up with the moniker "The Sad Hatter", I said it was because I may be mad, but my madness was born of sadness. I'm just sad. I carry it with me where my heart should be. So I named myself Sad, and I put on the hat, and I wore my sadness like armor, turned it into an act, and made a spectacle of it. "I'm The Sad Hatter, and I'm mentally ill but that's alright, I'm going to be just fine!" I told you all I had my issues, and I'll come close to opening up about how bad those issues are, I'll give little chunks of information at intermittent intervals, and then two hours later I'll act like it never happened. I'll admit I was close to killing myself, and then two days later I'll post dog photo's and act like I'm all better.

I'm writing this because I'm sad. And tomorrow, I'll act like I'm not. But when I waver again, I'll come back here and I'll open up again. And along the way, maybe you're reading this and realizing you aren't alone in feeling overwhelmed. Maybe you're realizing you're not the only one who isn't healing neatly and in a timely manner. Maybe you're reading this and gaining some insight into the struggles someone you care about is facing. Maybe my opening up is can help somebody else, I really hope so, but I know it's helping one person. It's helping me.

This blog, it's about living with myself. It's about living with The Sad Hatter.

#trigger warnings #mental health #anxiety #borderline personality disorder #adhd #domestic abuse #child abuse #self harm #violence #just all the trigger warnings

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