#horatio is just like... oh my god hand it to me i’ll do it

[rubyarrows]

Times Like This

The sun had dipped low in the beautiful Miami sky, casting vibrant shades of pink and orange as it did so. It was a sight that told me that another day had come to pass, and it was finally time to get out of the lab. I gathered my things and tried to mask the exhaustion that had become a constant companion of mine over the last few weeks. As I walked out of my office, I noticed that my close friend and colleague, Eric Delko, was sitting on the bench right outside of it. 

“I thought you would be gone by now, Delko.” I started as I readjusted the strap of my bag on my shoulder.  

Eric stood up from his seat at the sound of my voice and shrugged. “Figured you would like a ride home, so I waited.” he admitted as the two of us headed towards the exit of the depot. 

I gave him the most genuine smile I could muster and said, “I wouldn't have minded the ten-minute walk back to my apartment but thank you. I appreciate it.” 

“It’s no problem.” he said with a smile of his own. 

The ride was sort of a quiet one and I could feel the weight of Eric’s unspoken words lingering in the air. But it wasn’t until he parked outside of my apartment that Delko finally turned and looked at me with mostly concern in his eyes. “You been doing okay?” he asked after a moment or two. “Just noticed you’ve been kind of distant since that Swearinger case.” 

I raised my eyebrows momentarily, averting my gaze to anywhere else but on him then said, “Just rolling through the motions, you know? I’ll be fine.” I knew everything that had just come out of my mouth was a bold face lie. I was targeted by Swearinger, the man basically hunted me down in my own home and those memories still haunt me. 

“I know you’re lying, Chey.” Eric said and took my hand in his. “How bad are the nightmares?” I went to say there wasn’t any, but he was too quick to cut me off. “Nuh uh. How bad?” 

I sighed and looked down at our now intertwined hands. “Eight out of ten. I barely sleep at all right now. Every creak of the floorboards when I walk, every honk of a car passing the building at night, it all just throws me back. H set me up with therapy twice a week before work but it's not helping as much as he, or I, would have hoped to be honest.” 

“So, Horatio knows?” he questioned, and I just gave him a small nod without looking at him. “Would it help if I stayed with you for a few nights? Maybe you’ll be able to get some actual sleep instead of looking like a zombie.” 

His words made me laugh slightly. “You don’t have to, Eric. I’ll be fine.” 

“That was more of a rhetorical question, Chey.” he stated and put the car in park. “I’m staying and you’re not getting another choice in the matter.” 

I sighed. “Fine.” I said giving in, knowing damn well that he always keeps an overnight bag in his vehicle in case of moments like this. “Just so you know, you’re getting the couch.” I said putting my bag on my shoulder and got out of the vehicle, heading towards the front door of my apartment building. Eric followed shortly thereafter. 

When we walked into my apartment, I was quick to set everything down on the dining table and head towards my room to wash off the extremely long day. “You know the drill. Make yourself at home. I’m taking a shower.” 

“Got it.” I heard him say from behind me as I walked into the mess I was calling my room.  

I haven't had the energy or mindset to clean it here lately. There were clothes scattered all over the floor, leaving enough of a walkway to my bed and bathroom. Books and paperwork were thrown on every available surface. And if it wasn’t for my actual alarm clock, I would totally be late to work every morning because God only knows where my phone charger was. Though I have the sneaking suspension that since it was the weekend, when I left for the gym in the morning, Eric will sneak in here and clean it. He’s done it before in my depression filled states and I have no doubt he would do it again. 

Oh well. More power to him. 

As soon as I stepped into the falling water, I stood there for a moment doing nothing more than letting the feeling of the water on my back shroud my mind, just as I did every night. I faded into a place in my head of nothing but peace even if it was for a short while. I don’t know how long I just stood there letting the water just flow down my skin, but I soon felt it begin to get cold and quickly finished up my shower before I walked out shivering from the freezing cold liquid that had made its way out of my shower head. 

When I walked back out of my room, I noticed Delko was in the kitchen cooking. “What are you doing?” 

He looked up from the stove and over to me. “Did you plan on not eating tonight?” He questioned. “Yeah, not on my watch.” 

“No. I was just going to order in.” I said as I continued to dry my hair with the towel I had in my hand. “Eric, you don’t have to do all of this.” 

“I know.” He said and went back to his cooking. “I wanted to, though. You’ve been through a lot, and you deserve to be taken care of every once in a while. Even if you don’t want it.” 

I smiled slightly and placed the towel down on the back of one of the bar stools at my island. “Want some help?”  

“Nope.” Eric said quickly with a smile of his own. “The only thing you need to do is sit your butt on the couch over there and relax. I got this.” 

“If you say so.” After placing my towel back into the bathroom, I did what I was told and sat down on the couch, instantly turning the tv on to let the noise fill the otherwise quiet room. I turned slightly to watch for a moment as Eric continued making whatever it was he could find to make for dinner. Sometimes I forget that I don't have to suffer alone in silence, and it was times like this, when I felt alone and beyond scared to be by myself, that I was more than appreciative to have friends like him.

#ruby arrows #ruby arrows imagines #csi #csi x reader #csi imagine #csi imagines #csi fanfiction #csi miami #csi miami x reader #csi miami imagine #csi miami imagines #csi miami fanfiction #eric delko #eric delko x reader #eric delko imagine #eric delko imagines #eric delko fanfiction

[mistressaccost]

hamlet pirate au where after the pirates capture him they actually adopt hamlet and teach him how to sail and shit and horatio is also there

#okay who wants to write this fanfiction for me please!! #please!!! #horatio is definitely the better pirate #hamlet will be tying the ropes and just stop and be like you know what this rope reminds me of? *insert hamlet reciting an entire play* #horatio is just like... oh my god hand it to me i’ll do it #bless #hamratio #hamlet x horatio #hamlet

[popsunner]

There was a moment. A moment when everything was still and silent. The dead speak no words and the survivors rarely speak twice that. There is blood on the ground and spilled wine, thrown from nobility's hands, unsure if it too was tainted. Red stains his hands and he can’t help but think he failed her, as he stares at her brother’s unseeing eyes. Ophelia was entrusted to his care and now she is drowned, and her brother follows. He opens his mouth as if to apologize but the words get stuck in his throat. Ophelia had pressed a pink rose into his hand as they parted, her eyes bright and her face streaked with tears.

“For gratitude,” she had said.

There was a moment of silence while the ghost of the pink roses thorns bit into his stained hands and then he saw Hamlet stumble, and the world was loud again.

He’s at his side in a moment, stepping over the queen with barely a glance as his hands find Hamlet’s shirt, gripping it to keep which of them upright, he doesn’t know. Hamlet looks at him, blinking like he can’t see clearly. He smiles as he settles his hands over Horatio’s, like this is ordinary, like nothing is the matter..

“Horatio,” he says, and then his smile falls. “I am dead.”

Panic sets into his chest and without thinking Horatio pulls his hands away, trailing down his side until they find the wound and then his hands are stained all over again-- or maybe it was only in his head before. He shakes his head, looking up to meet Hamlet’s eyes, to tell him no, he is not dying, he is far from dead. But Hamlet isn’t looking at him anymore.

His eyes are glazed over as he looks at the queen, his voice soft, breaking on the vowels, “Wretched queen, adieu. You that look pale and tremble at this chance, that are but mutes or audience to this act, had I but time--”

Hamlet meets Horatio’s gaze then, and his hand lifts shakily to tug at Horatio’s neckerchief. There is humor in his eyes, in the way they used to light when writing poetry, before his life was surrounded by death. He leans in, like he’s sharing a secret, “As this fell sergeant, Death,

Is strict in his arrest.”

Sticking to the script, Horatio chokes out a huffed laugh, and Hamlet’s grip on his neckerchief tightens. “Had I but time…”

“My lord--”

“Oh, I could tell you--” Hamlet starts in a voice that Horatio would have moved mountains to hear under different circumstances, he stops and shakes his head, “but let it be. Horatio, I am dead.”

“No--”

“Thou livest,” Hamlet tells him desperately, yanking him forward as if they are not already toe to toe. Hamlet swallows, “Report me and my cause aright to the unsatisfied.”

It’s an order. The last order. Horatio’s already quivering hands shake from Hamlet’s clothes and he stumbles back, eyes widening as he stares at his friend, his best friend, his--

“Never believe it.” Horatio matches Hamlet’s smile from earlier, shrugging as he trips to Claudius’s still body. “I am a more antique Roman than a Dane.”

He can see it, the moment Hamlet realizes what he’s doing. He knows Hamlet’s face and expression better than he knows science and the inner workings of a mind. He sees Hamlet move forward just as he picks up the not yet emptied poison gauntlet. Just enough for one more death, only one left alive in the room. 

“Here’s yet some liquor left,” He says, as he thinks that it’s fitting, and brings the cup to his lips. 

He isn’t fast enough, Hamlet gets to him first, but trips over Claudius’s leg, grabbing at Horatio’s arm as he falls. “As thou'rt a man, give me the cup. Let go!”

They wrestle with it, over the king's dead body and for a moment Horatio almost laughs at the sight but then Hamlet is tackling him to the floor, pulling the cup from his grasp, throwing it across the room as he growls, “By heaven, I’ll have ’t.”

They sit on the floor, and Hamlet pulls them away from Claudius’s body before he collapses with gasping breaths against Horatio. He reaches up to hold his cheek, turmoil in his eyes.

“No,” Is all Horatio manages to grit out.

“O God, Horatio, what a wounded name,” Hamlet whispers, and he’s talking about both of them. Then he huffs in his stubborn and familiar way and the blood on Horatio’s hands burns. “Things standing thus unknown, shall live behind me!”

Horatio would usually roll his eyes. Instead he pulls Hamlet further against him, eyes frantically searching for the poisoned cup, searching for a chance, that just maybe--

“If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart,” Hamlet tells him, and Horatio yanks his eyes away so fast it makes him dizzy. His jaw unhinged as he stares down at Hamlet, who only smiles as his lips quiver, “absent thee from felicity a while? And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain to tell my story.”

Reading in a field while the sun is high in the sky, scribbled poems on his science notations and sketched flowers in journals. Hamlet’s laugh that used to come so easily and his hand warm on Horatio’s shoulder. He’d told him once that in the end they are all stories, he’d told him once that theirs were intertwined. Horatio wants to say no. With every bit of his being he wants to scream to god that he cannot do this, but he recognizes the tremor in Hamlet’s tone.

He almost asks if the request is only a way to make him stay, to keep alive. He doesn’t, he knows the answer. Slowly, he nods. Hamlet shifts his hand to swipe a tear off his cheek before settling it back on his face.

“Oh, I die, Horatio,” He says like an apology. “The potent poison quite o'ercrows my spirit. I cannot live to hear the news from England. But I do prophesy the election lights on Fortinbras. He has my dying voice. So tell him, with th' occurrents, more and less, which have solicited.”

He waits until Horatio nods again, then his hand all but drops, his pointer finger brushes across Horatio’s lips as he says, “The rest is silence.”

Horatio feels the last breath leave the prince of Denmark, and with it, his love.

The walls around him shake or perhaps it’s only his body, wrapped around Hamlet like a shield come too late. He feels the prince’s curls against his nose as he presses his lips to his forehead. 

There was a moment of quiet, but Hamlet took it with him with his last words.

The sound of marching soldiers drowns out Horatio’s wail, a scream to the heavens and that damned ghost and the inescapable fate that comes from revenge and the dare it had to take Ophelia and Rozencratz and Guildenstern and Laertes and Hamlet from him. His throat aches as waves of tears fall across his face and he wonders if he could drown in them, and how much of the water in lovely Ophelia’s lungs were the salt from her wide eyes. After what feels to be hours but can’t have been, his breath shudders to a quieter racket, and he sends a prayer to his friends who are, all of them, dead.

He’s left alone in an empty room with the man he loves in his arms and there are too many words for him to say, but Hamlet was always the writer. 

“Now cracks a noble heart. Good night, sweet prince,” Horatio says finally, and closes Hamlet’s eyes against the tragedy surrounding them as he says his final goodbye, “and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.”

#brain: you wanna make yourself cry #me: no??? #brain: too bad #shakespeare #ace directs Shakespeare #hamlet #lmao suffer with me

[harry-leroy]

for the fic prompts, laertes and hamlet + “win” if you’re willing to write those two :)

Hi! I'm just having a look at my ask box, and goodness I know it has been a good while since I have even looked at things in my inbox. However, I just realized that I have not written anything (academically, or for fun) in several months, so I thought we would start with some fic prompts to settle back in with *words* again.

This was incredibly fun to write, though I am realizing how difficult it is just to get to 1000 words when writing prose - if anyone writes in prose on the regular, I bow down to you. I also kind of split up the characters (because of course I would), but I also used characters from that Hamlet play I posted snippets of earlier this year on my blog (because I'm obsessed with this little French OC boyfriend I've given Laertes), so that's the universe I'm operating in.

I'll leave it under a cut! Thank you again for all of your lovely asks (and if anyone wants to request a fic, you can totally leave something in my ask box, it just might take several months for me to get back to you ahahah).

“What is it today? I have grown bored of playing cards,” Etienne rolled over to kiss Laertes on the cheek, then on the nose, the mouth, marking a blazon with the repeated gesture.

“We all have,” Laertes returned, between breaths. “I have certainly grown too old to gamble,”

“Nonsense,” Etienne said. “You are young. Believe me,”

“Old in my heart then,” Laertes said. “They weren’t lying when they said France dulls a man’s senses. Libertines are about as common as beggars or whores. A fool I was to expect some kind of excitement away from Denmark,”

“Who else would give us our money?” Etienne asked. “No cards today, my love,”

“Swords then,” Laertes sat up, still following Etienne’s affection. “I can gamble with the rest of them, but perhaps I’ve grown soft in my physicality,”

“What? Do you intend to be a soldier when your fortune comes calling?” Etienne asked.

“If I must,” Laertes sighed. “You always challenge my thoughts, Etienne. More often than not, I find myself at a loss with you. I must win at something,”

“Do not trouble yourself with that loss,” Etienne pressed his forehead against Laertes’s. “Men like me must win at something, considering where our pithy fortunes are made. I merely tell you what I see. I must tell someone of interest,”

“What do you have to tell today?” Laertes asked.

“Even when you’ve put your cards away, you are still building your hand,” Etienne paused in his affection. “First, it’s sex, then it is gambling, then dancing, now combat. A fair hand, I will admit, though you are missing the winning trick,”

“Oh? What would that be?” Laertes asked.

“Diplomacy,” Etienne said, eyes grave, as though he were truly a way seer. It was like that with Etienne, Laertes knew. Every night was like having a counsel with a cautious God, profane as such a comparison felt. Laertes would often wonder if others had looked into Etienne’s eyes and saw the bold heaven he saw, the judgement, the doomsday book, written in fire. Some nights, he wondered if Etienne were real.

Laertes let out a laugh.

“Diplomacy is a dead man’s language,” he said. “Have you heard our new king? Just talking, talking, talking… the prince too. No one of any real consequence has ears, you know,”

“So, that is why you do not listen to me?” Etienne teased, placing another kiss on Laertes’s lips. To Laertes, it was God chastising him again, knocking down his attempt at pretty words in exchange for reason, self-reflection, guilt. Etienne kept talking between kisses. “Or to your father? Or to your sister? Because you are a man of consequence?”

“Some men must be,” Laertes’s face fell. “Whether we wish it or not,” In truth, Etienne was no better than any common whore. He took his gold and spent it where he could. He made love to other men under this roof, or perhaps out on the streets, if the price were high enough. France was nothing but a hell, gilded in pleasure to cover the sores beneath. Polonius was right to send a spy his way, though there were no real secrets to uncover. France was itself. Laertes his own self. The shame had long since melted away after Etienne’s tender kisses.

“Alright,” Etienne said, after a moment, tone brighter, keen on making the joy. In his heart, the love, whatever feeling came to him so fleetingly, last but only a moment longer. “Swords it is. Leave diplomacy for the little men. You better win. Make it worth my time to watch,”

* * *

“It is off,” Hamlet frowned. “The attack. It is all a simple matter of parry and riposte. Like the joke, you see, Horatio? Except I am at the end of it, stabbed through,”

Horatio only picked his head up upon hearing his own name, as he had been straightening the blade of his foil. His friend had been slightly off in his footing today, though it was nothing to wince at. Even in his tired state, Hamlet had still made a joke out of fencing, no matter how dire he made it sound. That blend of the humorous and the horrible was something only Hamlet could bravely serve and make it seem convincing, if not ridiculous.

“Would you like to stop?” Horatio asked.

“Stop? If only it were so easy… to stop.” Hamlet said before taking a sharp breath in and holding it, as if to demonstrate.

“I suppose, my lord,” Horatio said, his tongue quick despite how tired it felt, if only his friend would breathe again.

“Again, Horatio,” Hamlet rose to his feet.

“If you insist on it,” Horatio replied.

“What would you rather me do?” Hamlet’s temper rose, as it had been edging that way all morning. Temper appeared to be the curse of any royal line these days.

“I really don’t know,” Horatio shrugged with only one shoulder and readied his stance across their makeshift piste. “There are times when something such as a swordfight does not matter, in the end, win or lose. The world turns on and on, really, but… I speak too readily,”

“No,” Hamlet nodded. “No, you speak perfectly,”

“What is it that you fear, my lord? Truly? Deeply? Irrevocably?” Horatio asked, their friendship as schoolboys taking the greater part of his mannered reason.

“Truly?” Hamlet lowered his sword, “That what you say is true. That the odds are tossed against our favors by some terrible third hand,”

“The hand of God?” Horatio mused.

“Or that of my uncle,” Hamlet met the humor of Horatio’s tone.

“I could not imagine your uncle taking a sword against you,” Horatio said.

A moment passed. Hamlet turned away and off their piste.

“That is it though, is it not?” he asked, voice haunted. “He would not. He holds onto cards we cannot even see, much less imagine, until he plays them. Oh, and he plays them brutally, does he not?”

“I do not know what to say to that, my lord,” Horatio said after a pause, his manner returning, the Wittenberg friend lost once more.

“There is nothing to say,” Hamlet smiled, though it did not reach his eyes. “That is how you know we have hit a truth. Even at Wittenberg, when the truths we hit were just beyond the reality of our real lives, hypothetical and such, it always did taste bitter. There is loss for all of us, right at the end of the bout,”

“But fight we must,” Horatio held out a hand.

“Yes,” Hamlet took the hand in his own. “Yes. Fight we will,”

#thank you so much macy!! #this whole summer has been *weird* so i'm trying to reconnect here on tumblr #because this is where it all began bby #hamlet #horatio #laertes #shakespeare #my fic #writing #suits of woe #(also this is probably angsty oh well all of my fics are angsty ahahahah?)

[to-boldly-nope]

I Won’t Give You Up

Pairing: TOS and AOS Bones x Reader (yeah I experimented with this one)

Plot: Sybok decides to free Bones' mind of pain, but in the end, it made it all worse. (Based off the scene with Bones and his dad in Star Trek V)

Words: 816

Warning: It's kinda sad...

Tags: @emily-strange [I know you like TOS Bones ;)]

"I don't control minds. I free them," Sybok stated.

McCoy was curious by that statement. How could he say that he freed minds, but everyone seems to be under his control? He took a deep breath and asked, "How?"

He felt Kirk and Spock's eyes on him as Sybok walked up to him. There was nothing wrong with being curious.

"By making you face your pain and draw strength from it. Once that's done, fear cannot stop you," Sybok stated, making McCoy frown.

"It sounds like ...brainwashing to me," he mumbled.

Sybok was silent a moment before whispering, "Your pain is the deepest of all."

"What?" McCoy whispered angrily. He didn't need a Vulcan to tell him that he had some personal pains.

"I can feel it. Can't you?"

You were suddenly on the floor beside him, blood coming out from your side. You were breathing rapidly, trying to hang onto life.

"This is some kind of trick," McCoy snapped angrily.

"Bones," you cried out, making him kneel next to you.

"(Y/N), it's alright, I'll fix you," he whispered before turning to look at Sybok, "Don't do this to me."

"Bones," you whispered while lightly smiling since it was too painful. He grabbed your cold hand and smiled with tears.

You died during the five-year mission by someone stabbing you in the side. It was a decent amount of time ago, but he couldn't simply forget about you. He loved you.

"I'm here, (Y/N). I'm with you."

"It hurts."

"I know, hang on, alright? We'll get you to Sickbay soon and I can patch you up."

"I'm cold, Leonard. I'm so cold," you began to cry.

"Just hang on for me, alright? Please?"

"I-I'll try."

He couldn't imagine what was running through your mind that day, now he probably could. He knew how scared you were. He knew that you didn't deserve to die so young and so violently.

"I-I couldn't get her to sickbay in time," McCoy whispered to Sybok. "She died in my arms that day."

"You did everything you could."

"No!" McCoy yelled while standing up. "I could've done more for her, I could've gotten her to Sickbay in time!"

"You lose patients all the time," Sybok said, finally throwing McCoy to his breaking point.

"She wasn't another patient," he sobbed angrily, "I loved her!"

"Bones?" He heard you call out and he sank back down to his knees.

"I'm still here, how are you feeling, darlin'?"

He knew the answer. He saw the light quickly die from your eyes.  

"Like I got stabbed," you chuckled. "Hold me, I'm so cold."

It was torture that he had to relive this. He shouldn't have to hold you in his arms, your head against his chest as you were dying. He patched the wound but there was nothing else he could do until he got back to Sickbay. The scent of your hair was the same as that day; coconut.

"Am I going to die?"

"Of course not," he lied while tears fell on top of your head. "You love me too much to leave me in space alone with Jim and Spock."

"I do love you-" a silent, almost non-existent breath, "-too much."

You went limp and he knew that you were gone again. Twice now you have died in your arms and he's as heartbroken as ever, even after all those years.

"Let her go," Sybok told him, making you disappear.

"No, I won't. I can't. I'd rather suffer for millions of years than forget about (Y/N)."

"Once you forget about her then you can reach paradise-"

"To hell with your paradise!" McCoy yelled, "She was my paradise!"

"Have it your way then," Sybok said calmly while leaving.

McCoy looked at where you were and then buried his face in his hands. You were gone and there was nothing he could do about it.

"Bones, she wouldn't want you to agree with him. You did a good thing," Kirk told him softly. "I miss her too. She should be here with us."

"Yeah," McCoy breathed out. "Yeah."

"Doctor," Spock started, "it is possible that you shall meet again in another universe."

"I think that's the nicest thing you said to me," McCoy laughed.

~

(AOS)

You stepped foot on the Enterprise and for some reason headed into Sickbay. Something drew you there.

The door came open and you saw a man wearing a blue uniform, he had brown hair and hazel eyes, but you knew him.

"Leonard Horatio McCoy," you whispered. "Bones!"

The man heard his name and looked at you with realization. "(Y/N)? (Y/N) (L/N). Damn, Spock was right, we are meeting again."

"What happened?"

"Old age," he shrugged with a laugh. "Many years after you died. Oh god, the adventures we had."

"We have time," you grinned while sitting on a biobed. "A lot of time to tell me about them.”

#aos bones #tos bones #star trek tos #star trek aos #star trek imagines #bones x reader #bones mccoy #bones mccoy tos #bones mccoy aos

[hamletandthegang]

Talking over Pancakes

It had been nearly a week since Ophelia came back. She and the rebels didn’t leave their rooms much during the day, still trying to avoid the King and Queen and blowing their cover. Ophelia and Maggie spent most of the time together while the castle bustled with activity, waiting till things quieted down to go down and hang out with the rest of the group. Maggie hadn’t told a soul, not even Monica, about the plan she had concocted for storming the castle, and she didn’t plan to for at least a little longer. For the first time in what felt like lifetimes ago, she had a group of people that seemed to care about her wellbeing, while also not requiring her to lead them or take care of them at every turn. As much as she loved the ragtag group she had collected, it definitely felt as though they relied on her for everything sometimes, and she hadn’t put down that burden in years.

Ophelia was trying to reintegrate herself with her friends again, but it was slow going. Only Rosencrantz treated her like normal, laughing and cracking jokes with her. Nearly all the others just tried to dance around inevitable conversations, not able to even be in her presence without the nagging feeling to talk through and rehash all that had happened- and frankly, Ophelia was tired. She didn’t want to talk about what had happened anymore. She was still trying to process it herself. Being with Annalise was the best out of all of them, second to Rosencrantz of course. She hadn’t tried to start any deep conversations or ask semi invasive questions, only wiped her eyes from time to time and used any excuse possible to hug, hold hands with, or attach herself to Ophelia.

On a bright Wednesday morning, Ophelia and Maggie sat in Ophelia’s room, listening to the radio quietly while Maggie braided Ophelia’s long golden hair. Sunlight peered through the window and onto the bed they sat on, and Ophelia looked up as a knock sounded and Annalise peeked in.

“Good morning!” She said cheerfully, and set a plate of pancakes on the desk. “Oh! Maggie, I can grab yours too, I left it-”

“Oh that’s okay, I’ll get it.” Maggie tied off Ophelia’s hair and hopped off the bed. She shut the door and walked down the hall, leaving Anna and Ophelia alone. Nobody in the castle knew who she was or why they should be wary of her, so she was free to roam if she liked, as long as she had a good reason for being where she was.

Annalise fidgeted, looked around, and ended up sitting on the bed next to Ophelia, who was drawing on the notebook in her lap. “How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty good,” Ophelia laughed. “Maggie and I were up for a bit watching a movie, so I was in bed a little later than I would’ve preferred.”

“Mm,” Anna hummed, staring out the window absentmindedly. “You’ve- er, nevermind.”

“No it’s okay, what?”

Annalise began again, choosing her words carefully. She had been wanting to talk to Ophelia about her newfound friendship for a while, but they’d always been together. “I just- you’ve gotten awfully close to Maggie lately- I mean that’s not bad, but-”

“Oh, Jesus, I’m sorry. It’s just because we’ve both had to keep our heads down that we’ve been spending so much time together, that’s all,” Ophelia assured her, fully believing what she said. When Anna didn’t reply, Ophelia looked up again from her doodle. Annalise was still looking at the window with a funny expression on her face. “What is it?” With still no reply, Ophelia sighed, “Look, I didn’t replace you-”

She stopped as Annalise looked at her abruptly. “Did you not?”

“What are you talking about? Of course I didn’t!”

“Ophelia, look at it from my perspective for just a second, okay?” Annalise spoke softly and not angrily, but Ophelia wondered how long she’d been brooding about this. “You died. You killed yourself. My cousin and best friend killed herself. I put together my own cousin’s funeral, I take care of Horatio when he fell and busted his head, I take care of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern after they’re fished out of the middle of the ocean and nearly dead. And a month later, you show up again with a new best friend, new experiences that you don’t want to talk about- for good reason,” she added. “And all of the sudden I barely know who you are! Sorry-” She stopped herself as her voice rose at the end of her sentence and rubbed her knuckles. “I just don’t know how to talk to you anymore, that’s all. And I don’t want to lose you again. You mean the world to me.”

Annalise stopped and finally looked up at Ophelia, who was staring blankly back at her. “I’m- oh God, I’m so sorry!” Ophelia hugged her.

“You stayed away for so long,” Annalise whispered and hugged her back, mist forming on the edges of her eyes.

“I know, and I’m sorry. I was avoiding having to face Hamlet, I never thought about how you would see it.” They released each other and Annalise leaned back. “But I promise I didn’t replace you-”

Annalise rubbed at her eyes, and finally broke. “Like hell you did! Ophelia, your best friend is the same person that made you dig a fucking bullet out of Horatio. The same one that nearly blew Hamlet up. And suddenly it’s all okay because she fished you out of a pond?! I don’t care that you are her friend too, I don’t care about that. But why her?!”

Annalise froze as she spotted Maggie at the door, holding a plate of pancakes. She tried to say something, but nothing came out. Ophelia noticed her too, and took up. “Maggs-”

“You’re right,” Maggie mumbled.

Annalise looked at her, confused.

Maggie locked eyes with her, and let her read her expression. She rarely let a single emotion slip through the net of her face, something which had taken years to learn as she was a naturally very emotional person. But now, she let all the pain and growth she had undergone show on her face like an open book. “You’re completely right, Anna. I did some really fucked up things. I hurt your friends way more than I ever deserve to be forgiven for. I was lacking a lot of important information on who to trust, and made rash decisions that ended up backfiring completely. I’m not asking you to forgive me, I would never expect you to. I am sorry, though.” Maggie finished speaking and smiled at Anna. “I’m going to go eat these in the kitchen.” And she left the room, letting the door breeze shut once more.

Annalise still sat frozen on the bed. Ophelia stared at the door, and then back at her friend sitting on the bed. “Anna-”

“Do you trust her? Like- really trust that she’s changed?” Annalise looked at her from an angle.

Ophelia hesitated, thinking back to the ride in the van, holding Horatio in the back seat and telling him to breathe… Then she thought about how many times that same girl had checked on her to make sure she wasn’t having nightmares, or had made sure she was completely comfortable and felt safe at all times while she was in the apartment, or welcomed her with open arms to the rebel group when she had nowhere else to go.

“Yes, I do.”

“Okay. I can too, then.” Annalise shut her eyes as she spoke. “I shouldn’t have lashed out like that, I’m-”

“No, I’m sorry, I should have realized how all this was going to affect you. It’s not fair for me to expect everything to just go back to normal again, as much as I miss those times, we’re not there anymore.”

Annalise nodded. Her phone buzzed in her pocket. “Ah, I said I’d go with Horatio to the bookstore downtown this morning. Would you like to come? Maggie too?”

Ophelia looked at her, ruffling her hair with her hand. “That sounds lovely, actually.”

“Okay, great. I’ll tell Horatio,” Annalise slid off the bed and walked to the door, straying to look at Ophelia once more before walking out into the hallway and down the stairs.

#hamlet modern au #hamlet #shakespeare #hamletandthegang #horatio #ophelia #oc annalise #maggie #hatg1

[ris-harp]

The Rest is Silence: A Deaf Hamlet Story. Chapter 1

Tonight seemed the perfect night to talk to spirits, if Horatio believed the movies. It was just after midnight, and purple-blue fog obscured the full moon and cast a ghostly glow over the land and trees. Hooting owls echoed their chants from the woods on both sides of the narrow cobblestone drive where Horatio stood. The wet began to seep into his five-thousand dollar Don Adriano jacket. He stifled a shiver and continued down the lane. Finally, he reached the end of the road and stood before the black iron gate emblazoned with the rampant lion of the Dane family crest.

Frank’s severe voice drifted out from the guardhouse, barely louder than the hooting owls. “Who’s there?”

“A friend,” Horatio warbled elongated haunting notes back into the darkness.

“Is that you, Rato?” Frank wasn’t laughing. No surprise there, really.

Horatio stepped up to the camera and smiled. “Just his ghost—“

“You’re late.” Frank snapped.

After a moment he iron gates rattled and the door to the guardhouse popped open.

Horatio sauntered through the gate and into the small guardhouse. “Quiet watch tonight?”

“Too quiet.”

Horatio took off his wet jacket, rolled it into a ball, and tossed it on the floor in the corner. Smiling, he wiped the moisture from his glasses with his shirt. “So you haven’t seen the thing again?”

“No.”

“Well, that makes sense.” Horatio scoffed as he put his glasses back on. “There’s no such thing as ghosts. I bet you’re just not getting enough sleep.” He picked a half-finished airline bottle of vanilla vodka off the desk and raised an eyebrow. “Or else you’re drunk on baby liquor.”

“I’ve seen it every day this week.” Frank snapped, ripping the bottle away from Horatio and drinking the contents.

“It’s only Wednesday.”

“Just wait. It’ll show. I guarantee it.”

Chuckling, Horatio shook his head.

A heavy quiet as thick as the fog outside followed. Frank squinted, staring through both.

“You got any more?”

“Huh?” Frank turned his scowl to Horatio.

Horatio signed « alcohol ».

Frank raised an eyebrow.

“Booze, my friend. You really should learn some sign. The basics at least.”

Frank shook his head and opened a file cabinet. He pulled out another tiny bottle. “Since Ham’s been gone, it really hasn’t come up.” He tossed the bottle to Horatio.

“You know he just got back into town this afternoon.”

Frank shrugged.

“I think maybe you’re going crazy, Frank. Too much sorority girl liquor.”

Horatio settled into the wooden chair at the back of the guardhouse and drank the vodka in a single shot. The vanilla vodka warmth settled into his stomach. He leaned back with a smile and a sigh.

“You know, Bernie saw it, too. Last week when he covered my shift. He said he saw a bright green light in the west.”

“I went to Arden with Bernie since middle school. He used to say he couldn’t join the lacrosse team because he was too busy playing polo. The guy couldn’t join cause he was on a scholarship. He’s F.O.S. You shouldn’t indulge—“

“Shh.”

“Him.”

“Shut up.” Frank urged in an even more severe tone than Horatio thought was possible. “Get over here.”

Begrudgingly, Horatio roused himself from the surprisingly comfortable wooden chair and walked to the observation window.

“Oh my god, Frank! Look! It’s fog! And more fog! Wow!”

Frank danced into his coat and tossed on his scarf. “Come on.” He pushed past Horatio and went out the door.

“Dude, for real. This is getting silly.”

“Why did you even come out here, Rato? Huh? If you don’t want to see him? If you don’t believe, you could have stayed home.” He didn’t even look at Horatio as he jogged out the door.

“Fine. Show me.” Horatio followed Frank outside. He immediately regretted leaving his jacket on the gatehouse floor.

Horatio shivered.

“Stop here, Rato.” Frank stopped Horatio about ten feet from the gate and took off his scarf. “I don’t think we should get too close.”

He handed the scarf to Horatio.

“Thanks.” He wrapped it around his ears and neck and looked out into the cloud-covered night. “What am I supposed to be looking at, Frank?”

“Ten o’clock. To the west. Toward the family plots.”

Horatio squinted in that direction. It was just fog. Swirling yellow and green glowing fog about fifty feet away.

“Fog, Frank. Seriously.”

The owls fell silent.

Yellow and green?

Horatio rubbed the moisture off his glasses with Frank’s scarf and refocused.

Yes. It was yellow and green.

From the cloudy swirl emerged a vaguely man-shaped figure.

“Very funny, Frank.” Horatio chuckled.

Frank said nothing.

“Bernie! Welcome to the party! Frank’s got lady booze!” Horatio shouted. “How are you doing that glowing thing?”

Bernie didn’t answer.

Horatio turned to Frank. “How’s he doing that?”

Frank gawked, unblinking as Bernie steadily slid closer to the gate.

“Frank?”

Frank was a terrible actor. Commitment to a prank was not something Frank was particularly known for. In fact, Horatio couldn’t remember a time where Frank had ever even made a joke. Unless maybe his whole existence was some elaborate farce.

The obscured person stood maybe twenty feet away now.

The clouds parted.

This glowing, green, gliding figure came into focus. It was too imposing to be short and scrawny Bernie. It must have been over six feet tall with shoulders half as wide. Its tuxedo tails faded to mist behind him.

“Holy f— fog.” Horatio exhaled a puff of curling vapour as he took a step toward the gate. “Who are you?”

The figure stopped its advance.

Despite Frank’s scarf, Horatio’s ears burned in the cold. The hair on Horatio’s bare arms stood on end.

“I command you—,” half-mocking fear cracked Horatio’s voice. “For real. Say something!”

Yellow-green light flashed in a hundred branching lightning bolts. Then steadily the figure in the distance became smaller and dimmer until it looked more like a dying firefly than a man.

The owls simultaneously took up their songs again, and the clouds dissipated. He and Frank stood alone under a full moon and a starry sky.

“He won’t talk to me either, Rato.”

Horatio pretended to listen to the owls for a moment as he searched for his voice. “It looked like Mr. Danes.”

Frank nodded.

“But Mr. Danes is dead.”

Frank nodded again and walked back into the gatehouse.

“Will it be back?” Horatio asked, unable to move.

“Not tonight.” Frank called back from inside the tiny building.

“What—“ Horatio cleared his throat. “What does it want?”

“If I knew, I would have taken care of it myself. He won’t talk to any of us. Not me, not Bernie, not Mark.”

“You think it’ll talk to Ham?”

“That’s actually why I asked you to come. We don’t really know Hamilton well enough to ask him.” Horatio’s jacket smacked him in the side of the head and landed on the ground at his feet.

He turned and glared at Frank, who stood expressionless in the doorway. He picked up his jacket and shook it out. It was buttoned up before he realised he was no longer cold. “You mean, you don’t like talking to the deaf guy.”

Frank didn’t say anything, but Horatio saw shame in his eyes.

“No worries, Frankie.” Horatio snarled. “Are you on duty tomorrow?”

Frank nodded.

“I’ll bring him by.”

“Don’t be late. And bring your own—“ Frank paused and fumbled with his hands until he signed « deaf school ».

Horatio’s chuckle got lost somewhere between his heart and his head.

« Alcohol » Horatio showed the correct sign with a sigh and a shake of his head. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe you shouldn’t bother with it.”

Neither of them spoke for a moment. Horatio studied the spot where the ghost of Mr. Danes had stood only a few minutes ago. He shuddered.

“You gonna let me out?”

The gates buzzed and rattled open. Horatio strode forward down the driveway, giving the spirit’s area a wide clearance. He walked down the lane to his waiting car, all the while wondering if he would sleep tonight.

#ACTOR #asl #american sign language #deaf #deaftlent #shakespeare #fiction #fanfic #fantasy #author #writing #writer #william shakespeare #sign language #hard of hearing #hamlet #the rest is silence

[asexual-hugger]

3 YEARS AGO

Allison McQueen sits alone at a table by the window at the library downtown, a criminal justice textbook in front of her. The words blur on the page before her eyes. She pauses to run her hands down her face and then picks up a pen, twirling it in her fingers. A half-written page in her notebook stares up at her.

“An eye for an eye, as the Code says.”

“Huh?”

She glances up abruptly to find a blond boy about her age looking down at her, a lopsided smirk on his face. “Your textbook.” He nods at it. “You must be studying criminal law.”

“Oh! Right.” She flushes. “I’m actually studying to be a crime scene investigator. I always found the work fascinating.”

“Hm.” A thoughtful look crosses his handsome features. “Crime scene investigation, eh? How...unusual. You do know it’s nothing like what you see on the telly, right?”

“Of course. My professors remind us time and time again that it’s never like what you see on the telly. Probably because too many people go into that field because they hope to be the next Horatio Caine or Mac Taylor.” 

She is referring to her two favorite detectives on the American television programs CSI: Miami and CSI: New York.

“What about you?” the boy asks. “Who do you aspire to be?”

“Me?” she asks. “No one. Not in pop culture, anyway. I just aspire to be a crime scene investigator that people can rely on and do my job as expected.”

“Good answer.” The boy grins. “May I?” 

He nods at the empty seat across from her, and she nods.

“I’m Dylan.” He extends his hand. “I work here as an intern, so I’ve noticed you coming in here a lot.”

“I’m Allison.” She shakes his outstretched hand. “I’ve seen you walking around the shelves a lot. Are you looking into librarianship?”

Dylan shrugs. “Maybe. I’ve considered it, although I prefer to be more hands-on with shelving books than talking to people. I might just stick with being a page.”

Silence follows. Allison’s pen scratches some more notes down. Dylan speaks again.

“So...you want to get out of here?” he asks.

“Erm...is that allowed?” She’s uncertain. “You have work, right?”

“Actually, I was just going to go get some food. You’re welcome to join. I could use the company. I get an hour, tops. Come with. You look like you’ve been working up a storm in here.”

She seems grateful for the relief. “Believe it or not, I have been,” she says, rubbing her tired eyes. “I feel like the whole day has escaped me. Is it evening already?”

“Yup.” Dylan is all too eager to leave. “Come on, future CSI. Let’s go find you some scenes to investigate.”

Dylan’s car is parked in one of the front spots in the library lot. He clicks the remote on his keys and opens his passenger door for Allison. She hides a blush and grins.

“Such a gentleman. Where are we headed, good sir?”

Dylan chuckles. “Well, my dear lady, there is a cafe just a few miles up that I like to frequent. Their tea and sandwich special is simply to die for. Guaranteed fresh daily, or you can slap my arse.”

Allison giggles at the comedic accent he puts on, and the two of them share a laugh and pleasant conversation the whole drive up.

“Honestly, Allison, I do appreciate you accompanying me,” Dylan says in all seriousness again. “I’ve been coming down here by myself so many times that I’ve very nearly forgotten the joy and importance of company, preferably by the female sort.”

“What, you’ve never taken your girlfriend anywhere?” Allison is surprised that such a handsome chap would not be taken.

“Nah; we broke it off,” he replies indifferently. “Didn’t work out, she and I. She broke up with me because she thought I was too work-centered. Didn’t know how to let loose. It lasted three weeks.”

Three weeks. A girlfriend, for three weeks. Allison’s heart pours out for this lonely young man.

“I’m sorry, Dylan.” Her voice is almost a whisper. “I can’t imagine being in a relationship for only three weeks. Sounds like she was missing out on something wonderful.”

“Eh, I’m used to it, at this point.” He shrugs. “Girls never really had it for me. I must be a stroke of bad luck or something, but I appreciate your kindness.”

He suddenly slows down and pulls off the side of the road, turning off the engine.

“Wait. Why are we stopped?” Allison looks puzzled. “I thought we were going to get something to eat. Are we close?”

“Not really.” Dylan sounds as if he didn’t hear her.  “Dylan? What’s going on?”

“Engine trouble,” Dylan grumbles, before he turns in the seat to face her. “You know, you have gorgeous eyes.”

“Er...thanks?” Uncertainty starts to grip Allison. “So do you.”

Dylan leans closer. The smile on his face looks almost menacing.

“Dylan, what are you doing?” Allison begins to move away. He is way too close for her liking. Was he going to kiss her? “What are you scared of, baby?” he asks in a soft voice. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I thought we’d have a bit of an adventure before we went out to eat. Just you and me.”

“An adventure?” Allison’s voice is weak. She has a bad feeling about this situation.

“An adventure,” Dylan repeats. “Just you and me. You’ll love it. I promise. It’ll be a new experience for both of us.”

He unbuckles his seatbelt and moves towards her, looming. She backs away until she can’t back away any more. Her backside presses against the passenger door.

“Kiss me,” Dylan urges. “Why are you backing away from me? I just want a kiss.”

There it goes.

“I...” Allison tries to speak, but is lost for words.

Dylan grips her shoulders, hard, and presses his mouth against hers, lingering for as long as he will allow it. She raises her hands in protest, attempting to push him off, but he doesn’t budge. Neither of them notice the dark car that has pulled up behind them or heard the crunching of footsteps on the ground until there’s a harsh pounding at the driver side door.

“Hey! Open up!” A voice barks from outside.

“What the bloody hell?” Dylan jerks up from his intimate position against Allison and glares daggers.

A fist raps on the car window. Someone is outside, and whoever it is does not sound happy.

“Open up and step out of the vehicle with your hands on your head!”

Allison has heard this being said enough times to realize what’s happening. The person rapping on the window is a COP.

Oh, thank goodness! she thinks. If Dylan continued this behavior, I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to fight him off! It was as if the cop, whoever he was, showed up right when she needed him.

“Bloody hell! The fuzz???” He turns his dagger glare on Allison, still cowering against the door. “What did you do, eh? What the bloody hell did you do? Did you call the fuzz on me? Huh? DID YOU CALL THE COPS ON ME???”

“No!” Allison’s response is a squeak. She’s terrified of who this man has become. One second he was handsome and charming, and now he is a monster, unrecognizable.

Jekyll, meet Hyde.

“Sir! I will not ask you again!” The cop is still present. “Open up and step outside of the vehicle! I want your hands where I can see them!”

“F’ck you!” Dylan flips the unseen cop the bird. “Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something here?”

There’s silence, and then the cop raps on the window again, this time with something other than his knuckles.

“Oh my God. He’s got a gun!” Allison realizes that the object being tapped against the window is a pistol. “You’d better open the door, Dylan! This guy is not playing games!”

“You think I’m gonna open the door because of some damn gun?” Snapping. “Guns don’t scare me, baby. And you don’t have to be scared of me. I’ll protect you from all the big bad boys out there. This is our time to be alone together.”

Flipping the bird at the cop outside again, he starts to lean in over Allison a second time...before his door is flung open and he is dragged out roughly by his shirt.

“Hey, whoa!” he yells. “What the hell are y—?” He doesn’t get to finish before he is thrown to the ground and forces on to his stomach.

Allison can only hear the cop’s voice as she slowly comes out of her hunched-over position. He is clearly angry, all his anger directed at Dylan.

“When I give you an order, you bloody well follow it!” he is shouting. “If you put your hands on that lady again, I will have your arse under lock and key faster than lightning!” Scuffling. Dylan sounds like he’s moaning. “Do not catch me seeing you doing what you were doing ever again, do you hear me? Do you hear me??” Inaudible. “Now get out of here and don’t come back!”

“What about my car?” Challenging.

“Your car will be towed back to your residence when I allow it.” Counterattack. “I will not see you put your hands on a woman again, do you understand? Now go!”

More moaning. Unsteady footsteps. Silence. Then a shadow passes over the open driver’s door. Allison draws her knees up to her chest, heart hammering, her body frozen in fear.

“Are you alright, miss?” An unfamiliar face appears inside the doorway. Young. Strikingly dashing.

Allison only stares, refusing to move.

“It’s all right.” A soft, gentle British accent. “I won’t hurt you. I’m here to help.” He reaches into his shirt and flashes a badge hanging around his neck. “I’m an investigator. I was in the area when I saw your car. Are you hurt?” He holds out his hand to her and gives her a very charming smile, and she nearly melts under it. “It’s all right. Your boyfriend won’t harm you again.”

Allison slowly crawls forward and takes his hand, allowing him to help her out of the car. “Dylan’s not my boyfriend,” she says in a low voice. “He was starting his break at work and invited me to dinner. We were on our way to a cafe he mentioned before he pulled over and got all weird with me.” She looks up at him and seems to notice him for the first time. 

Damn, she mutters in her mind. You are CUTE!

“You’re a cop?” she asks coolly, not wanting her feelings to get in the way. “You have a badge...and a pistol.” She notices that the pistol is now holstered at his right hip.  “I’m a private investigator, actually,” he answers. “I get called in on special cases to help clients find what they’re looking for. My agency is just a few miles down the road from here. I was in the area on a case when I saw your car pulled over, and judging by what I could make out in the rear window, there was definitely a struggle going on. Are you hurt?”

He is genuinely concerned. His handsome face distorts into a frown as he looks her over, checking for injuries.

“I’m fine. I’m just shaken,” she answers. “I wasn’t expecting Dylan to snap like that. It was like a wire had gone bonkers inside of him or something. I’m really thankful you showed up when you did; I don’t think I would’ve been able to fight him off. I froze up.” She looks around, not knowing any of her surroundings. “I’m sorry. I know you probably have a case to get back to, investigator...er, what was your name?”

“I believe I didn’t give it yet. That’s on me. It’s Sinclaire. Detective Ernest Sinclaire, Private Investigator. I work at the Ledford Park Detective Agency as the only lone private eye. And the case can wait. A lovely lady such as yourself who has just been pushed to trauma is way more important to me at the moment, miss...?”

“McQueen. Allison. McQueen. It’s nice to officially meet the investigator who became my knight in shining police armor. Can you tell me, Detective Sinclaire, where I am? I really don’t know this part of town and I would like to go home. I’ve been studying at the library literally all day.”

“Studying?” Sinclaire looks intrigued. “May I ask what you are studying, Miss McQueen?”

“Criminal justice,” Allison replies. “I, er...” She suddenly looks embarrassed about admitting her field of study to an actual law enforcement officer. “I want to be a crime scene investigator.”

“A CSI?” The detective’s eyes sparkle. “Well, I can definitely teach you a thing or two about that. As a matter of fact, I’ve been on the lookout for an assistant to work with me at my agency, and so far none of them have met the qualifications. I can give you my information if it interests you, although I know we just met. Where do you live? I’ll drive you home and we can talk some more.”

An assistant. Detective Ernest Sinclaire, whom Allison knew next to nothing about, just said he was looking for an assistant. At Ledford Park Detective Agency, whatever and wherever that was. Still, though...

“Miss McQueen?” Allison jumps out of her thoughts to find Sinclaire’s piercing blue eyes trained on her. “I asked you where you lived. I want to drive you home. You shouldn’t be out here alone. Did I lose you there?”

“Sorry,” she says. “I was just thinking about your job offer. I actually live at Edgewater Estates. I’m not sure if you...”

“I know where that is,” Sinclaire assures her. “Shall we, then? As for the job, you don’t have to decide just yet. We’ve only just met. I’ll give you my business card and we can go from there. I’ve been trying to find an assistant for a long time now.”

#choices stories you play #desire and decorum #fanfiction ideas #detective story #pixelberry #choices game #play choices

[spectrehqs]

congratulations ! welcome to spectrehqs ashcroft university. under the cut is a list of acceptances. thank you so much for applying & i’m so excited to start writing with you. please take a look at our checklist and send your account within the next twenty-four hours.

in addition to welcoming you, i’ll take this moment to point out that we are in the midst of a plot drop. you’re welcome to lay low and simply plot and join in on honesty weekend and pick up when the school-wide lockdown ends, but it also might be fun to get tossed into the thick of it ! up to you, we’ll catch you up to speed if you have any questions. 

cassius: ilana martin-king written by jessie. 

i don’t know if i’ve cried so fucking much reading any of these applications thus far, but holy fucking shit. ilana’s story is not really a roller coaster, but more of a downward spiral, huh ? you breathed such life into not only her character, but into the characters of her mothers that god, my heart broke every painful step of the way for them. you said it best: this is not a villain origin story. but even if it were, i still would’ve been rooting for ilana every step of the way, she’s just that fucking compelling, and i could feel her attitude, her personality, her ambition, and her resentment shine through with all of your writing. her voice seemed to flow so naturally in the letter and i loved the details of each individually headcanon that seemed to connect so well to the story itself ! ilana is just so fucking INSPIRED, i think, and i feel like you took this basic skeleton and you just...you turned it into an entire story of its own that i just genuinely enjoyed reading, i’m literally so excited for the rest of the group to get their hands on your intro...they’re going to be just as pumped as i am, i’m sure. 

hamlet: talbot griffith written by colleen.

what you brought to hamlet was something totally different and totally unexpected. i think it’ll be a shock to our dash, since most of our hamlets have been quite similar, but i am fond of the newness of your portrayal ! i was so drawn in by your ideas, that talbot didn’t and doesn’t resent octavia, he adores/d her, and that he actually has an amicable, healing relationship with his father ( well, even if there’s something in it for t, of course. ) essentially, talbot, just like lysander, is different than the media’s portrayal – and everyone’s perceptions. i love your juxtaposition – talbot has the rage, the lack of control, while lysander was calm and controlled in comparison. i think this in itself will cause interesting conflicts within the group and it begs so many more questions. your character pretty much makes me wish that we did have a playable lysander because i would just die to see their dynamic and the family drama between them come to life on the dash. we’ll find ways to do this still, of course. don’t worry. 

horatio: mara kim written by danny.

i don’t know how many apps it’s been, but this one’s the charm, and trust me, it didn’t come easy !! mara is definitely a whirlwind of drama and trauma, i almost don’t know where to start. i think my favorite thing was the way you weaved in the connections so seamlessly and how you really capitalized on what her time was like being sent overseas to an american school and...alongside that, mara’s lifelong search to BELONG, to find a kindred spirit, to feel understood. mara is a hybrid in the society, coming from poverty and a broken home, but...also coming from new privilege and money. in a way, she can relate to everyone, which is so dangerous because she’s wicked smart. i love her attitude mixed with her dreamy mentality and love of classics, which i guess is what dark academia is all about. but god, what a fucking mess this one is, truly. 

mercutio: alexandre preston written by olivia.

oh, holy shit ! you had me hooked right from the aesthetic and name analysis, god i’m weak and desperate to learn more about this fucking asshole. not to mention, before i get into anything else, you have such a way with words, i love the way your descriptions just painted pictures for me, it was hard not to get swept up in the entire concept. i felt like i got such an understanding of the sibling bond with the prestons – it really broke my heart when xandre found out about tavi’s baby, and how hurt he was that she didn’t tell him – because she should know that he, of all people, would understand. not to mention his understanding and admiration for her ( and the acknowledgement that maybe, she should’ve been the preston heir ? and i oop – ) can’t stop thinking about your letter: I’ll watch over Wolfie. Of course I will.  I’ll get him piss drunk at that club you mentioned last time we talked, bring a few lines and a bottle of dom all just for you, gorgeous. gonna love this asshole on the dash, too. let’s fuckin go. 

#accepted #spectreadmin

[another-blog-bites-the-dust]

Not in the script.

Summary: While working alongside Gwilym in 'Hamlet', the final performance has everyone's emotions running high- especially his.

Warnings: swearing, lil bit of angst, fluff, ugh Gwil in period clothing tho 😩🙌

A/N: Okay I'm a sucker for Shakespeare and Gwilym so I combined them together in a Gwilxfem!reader fic. The lines of 'Hamlet' and other plays are in bold italic! I hope you enjoy! 💖

You died in his arms every night and occasionally some afternoons.

Like heaven itself was cradling you, and for your character it was. You were starring in 'Hamlet' playing the title role for the last four months in the west end with an incredible cast. The whole show was dubbed as controversial from the start because Hamlet was going to be played by a woman with everything else, including the pronouns in the script, staying the same. But that's why you and everyone else in the show were so excited to do it. It made the old play fresh and new.

But tonight was the final night and you were all reminiscing of the very first rehearsals before you all headed off to get ready for the last performance. You all started this journey six months ago and it was coming to an end in a matter of hours.

"Remember when Daisy dropped the prop skull when she was taking a look at it on the first day and it shattered everywhere!" You giggled, knees to your chest sipping away at a coffee while sitting next to your Horatio. You didn't know until you turned up to rehearsals that Gwilym Lee was cast as Horatio.

"Ugh that's going to haunt me forever!" Daisy playfully groaned. She was Ophelia and had quickly became a wonderful close friend of yours. "Oh Y/N! Remember you kept accidentally calling Gwilym 'Brian' at the start!" She giggled and you went bright red, Gwilym gently poked your side with a grin on his face.

You could vividly remember the day you stepped into the rehearsal room and gasped when Gwilym came up and shook your hand. You were a huge fan of Queen and Bohemian Rhapsody. "Holy shit! Brian May!" You had said before slapping your head in realisation "No! Gwilym! God! Sorry! You're Gwilym Lee!" Gwilym took it on the chin and laughed about it. In fact, he was rather flattered.

Hugh, who was playing Claudius, clapped his hands together. "Well we better get ready! Final night!" It was bittersweet for you all. But it was going to be especially painful for Gwilym to say goodbye to the show and the cast...and to you. He'd miss you the most. He had spent practically every single day of the last six months with you. Two months rehearsing and then four months performing. He had grown very close to you, especially as your two characters were so close and intimate and emotionally invested in one another. Gwilym found it hard not to fall for you.

"Y/N..." Gwilym gently said you name as he stood, nervously twiddling his fingers.

"Ye-" you were cut off by the sound engineer regarding your troublesome microphone. You turned back to Gwilym "Oh..."

He waved his hands "I'll speak to you after, it's alright. It can wait." He tightly smiled.

You grinned and let out a small sigh of relief. "Thanks, Gwil!" You squeezed his arm and he felt his whole body heat up at the brief contact. Like every other time you touched him or hugged him. He loudly and deeply sighed. Daisy noticed.

"Gwilym...why don't you just tell her already?" She quietly asked. Daisy had noticed for the last few months the tension building between you both. It was confirmed when Gwilym had confessed to her after a few drinks how he really felt about you. The next day he practically begged her to keep it to herself- he didn't want to jeopardise the professionalism between the both of you. "I know she would be over the moon if you told her how you felt."

"It's just so hard to convey into words how much- ugh I can't even do it now!" He ran a hand through his hair "I'll tell her tonight at some point. Tonight's my last chance."

Daisy pointed a finger at him "You better, Lee! And you better treat my beautiful, yet troubled, Hamlet, good!" He chuckled at her words. She smirked to herself "Make tonight count, Gwil. Go get your girl!" They both parted ways when they went to get changed. Where Gwilym's dressing room was meant he always passed yours, your door was shut over but he could see light and shadow seeping out of it at the bottom and he could hear you going over your lines aloud. Gwilym knew you'd probably be in your black dress, the one he could barely take is eyes off of when you wore it in the first few scenes.

He hesitated, bringing his fist up so it was hovering beside your door. But he couldn't chap it. He decided to just get through the final performance and try to keep his untamed feelings reined in for now.

•••

Everyone gathered at the righthand wing of the stage and huddled around. The whole cast was wearing their traditional clothes and you had to physically tear your eyes of Gwilym in his outfit. He always looked so good in it. "Last night everyone!" You ecstatically grinned "Hands in!" Everyone put their hands in the centre, Gwilym's was on top of yours and you swore he gently stroked it before all the the other hands landed on top. You all chanted and pulled back with a cheer.

"Final night- let's smash this!" Harry, who was playing Laertes, roared out and everyone giggled. "Go easy on me tonight, Y/N!" He joked, you knew how much your final fight scene exhausted him despite the many times doing it and the lengthy sword rehearsals before that.

"You don't know how much joy I'm going to get kicking your ass again, Harry. Until you stab me, of course." You playfully jabbed his side and he let out a chuckle. Gwilym tried not to let jealously bubble away inside him, in fact, it melted away when he felt your hands on his lower arms. He glanced up and found you looking at him with a smile. "My darling Horatio," he happily grunted as a response "One final time."

Gwilym nodded "My darling Hamlet." He squeezed your hands. "One final time," you went to walk away but he held onto your hands "Although working with you, Y/N...I feel like this whole experience will never die inside my heart." He whispered and you felt your own flutter and wildly beat as a response.

"Gwilym...that's so lovely of you to say! I've really loved working with you. So much! So, so much." You sent him a toothy smile and he opened his mouth to say something but was called to take his place. "We'll talk after?" You suggested and he nodded, leaning forward and giving you a quick kiss on the forehead. You stood in shock while he dashed off, he had never done that before. But it was the final night and everyone's emotions were running high. At least that was what you told yourself.

You had just finished a scene with Daisy, one where you spun Ophelia in your arms before she gave you a sweet, lovestruck kiss. She made you clutch a flower in your hand before she giddily dashed off after her father, Polonius. When she left, you had to toss away the flower to the side with a sigh and tried to be all melancholy.

That was until Gwilym hesitantly entered onto the stage like he was directed to. He walked over to you, your back facing him before tapping your shoulder. "Hail to your lordship!" He said and you turned around ecstatically gasping with a huge smile on your face. He picked you up in his arms while giving you a huge hug, spinning you one-eighty degrees before putting you down and holding you close.

You placed your hands on his cheeks and Gwilym gulped- like he always did. It was getting worse every single time. All he wanted to do was lean in and kiss you. Tonight he felt himself doing so and almost did until you spoke your line. "I am glad to see you well Horatio, or do I forget myself?"

Gwilym snapped out his little trance "The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever." You scoffed and tapped his cheek and then made the mistake of looking into his eyes. Those deadly eyes. They had put you off and distracted you more times than you knew. A timed clearing throat from Marcellus broke your characters apart from their moment. It was supposed to be intimate but perhaps not that intimate.

You shared a small, unscripted smile with Gwilym before focusing on the scene.

A few scenes later, you were on stage with him again along with Andy who played Marcellus. The three of you had spotted the ghost of your father and you were supposed to follow it but the two boys had to keep you back. Marcellus stood behind Gwilym with his hands held out as if to invisibly push you back while Horatio actually had his hands on you to try and keep you in the one place while you wriggled and writhed to escape and go to the ghost.

You didn't really want to leave Gwilym's hold- you never did. Anyone who wanted to would have been out of their mind. He held you so tenderly and gently but it looked like he was brutally trying to keep you away from the entity.

As an actor, and as just Gwil, he always amazed you.

"It waves me still," you clawed at the air. "Go on; I'll follow thee."

"You shall not go, my lord!" Marcellus warned.

You found yourself almost being picked up by Gwilym you were pushing forward so much. His hand unintentionally moved to the top of the back of your thigh and you jumped a little, sending him a small look as if to say 'That's not meant to be there.' He moved his hand back to your waist, slightly to your dismay. "Hold off your hands!" You said in a demanding tone. Time after time Gwilym almost moaned at that voice.

He looked down at you, he was at a perfect angle to just reach up and let your lips cra- "Be ruled," he said authoritatively and you crashed back into reality "you shall not go."

The scene carried on and after speaking to the ghost of your father, Marcellus and Horatio returned after catching up to you and questioned you about the spirt. You were on your knees staring off passed the heads of those in the audience with glossy eyes. Gwilym kneeled down next to you and tenderly took your hand in his and comfortingly squeezed and stroked it. He didn't used to do that when you first started, it happened over time. It made you wonder if he was acting out his movements or allowed them to flow freely. After a few more seconds of staring you turned to him and managed to let a fake tear fall. He reached up and slowly wiped it away- you could hear sniffles from the audience.

You looked into those delightful, dastardly eyes again, your heart leaping in your chest. His eyes held something a little different in them. There was a twinkle- something you never saw before.

You reached up and placed a hand on his cheek before slightly hunching over while releasing a sigh and then returned to your original position. He moved his hand from your face and placed it on top of yours that was on his cheek- something he hadn't done before. Andy raised a subtle, inconspicuous eyebrow at the interaction. Gwilym noticed your eyebrows creasing ever so slightly but he was too engrossed with you to care. "There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy..." you perfectly recited and Gwilym found himself press his head further into your hand. He loved the contact of your skin on his. You continued on and wrapped up the scene "So, gentlemen," you stood up "With all my love I do commend me to you: And what so poor a man as Hamlet is mat do, to express his love and friending to you, god willing, shall not lack. Let us go in together;" you took Gwilym's and Andy's hand "still your fingers on your lips, I pray." You placed your finger on their lips like you always did. Andy was unfazed by it but it always sent Gwil into overdrive. "The time is out of joint: O cursed spite, that ever I was born to set it right! Nay, come, let's go together." You pulled them off stage with you and then the next scene began. You dusted off your knees with a delighted smile "That was so good!"

Gwilym nodded "One of my favourite scenes...I mean, all of my scenes with you are my favourite." He bashfully confessed and you felt yourself blush, luckily the wings were dimly lit so he didn't really notice. "I've got to get changed," you did too "See you in a bit!" He smiled and headed off to his dressing room.

You let out a small, adoring sigh with a massive grin and then noticed Andy sending you a knowing smirk "Oh be quiet..." you nervously grumbled feeling his teasing glare. He had always asked when you were going to finally bite the bullet and ask Gwilym out. You never found the confidence to. Gwilym was gorgeous and such a sweetheart- he could have any person he wanted.

That's why you always questioned and doubted yourself- Gwilym could have anyone so why would he pick you?

Gwil watched in awe like he always did seeing you perfectly recite the infamous 'To be, or not to be' soliloquy. He quickly brushed away a rouge tear that slipped down his cheek. "She's incredible," he whispered to Daisy who was standing next to him watching, ready to jump on in a moment. She looked between you and Gwilym and fondly smiled at you both before lightly gasping and practically throwing herself on stage, too focused on her two friends who were mad about one another than the scene she was about to act in.

A little while later, everyone was getting ready to watch the reenactment of Hamlet's fathers murder. You called for Horatio and Gwilym walked on stage with a smile on his face "Here, sweet lord, at your service." You gave him a hug and he hesitated to let go.

Placing a hand on his jawline you let out a breathy chortle, then you had to rest your head against his chest while he held you. "Horatio, thou art e'en as just a man as e'er my conversation coped withal."

Gwilym had to act all flustered, but that wasn't an issue with you in his arms and his chin being tickled by your hair. "O, my dear lord..."

You chuckled and pulled back, patting his cheek and pointing at him "Nay, do not think I flatter." You smirked and sent him a wink before continuing on with your lines. Gwilym was helplessly smiling at you, being taken away momentary with your voice saying such poetic things. Continuing on, you all watched the players perform their parts and then the scenes carried on and you eventually, accidentally, killed Polonius.

Then you were sent off to England and a small interval began, giving everyone a little break and time to change. You practically flung on your clothes, the next scene you were in was mainly with Gwilym. You didn't see him again until you met by the wings and wrapped your arms around one of his, holding onto him tightly as you walked into a graveyard together. Your head rested against his bicep and Gwilym wondered if he'd still get the same kind of butterflies if you clutched onto him like that when you weren't performing.

He had a funny feeling that he would.

The two of you then had to hide away, but still in sight to the audience, as you watched Ophelia's burial. Gwilym's eyes flickered across to you as you stared intensely at the scene unfolding in front of you. There was only half an hour of performance time left. He didn't want it to end.

After causing a scene in the grave with Laertes- him fighting his fathers and sisters honour while you were fighting to declare your love for her- the final, tragic, scene finally arrived.

As everyone poured in and stood to the side of the stage to watch Hamlet and Laertes fence, Harry had one of the Lords assist him with putting on fencing gear while Gwilym helped you put on yours. His hands brushed against your waist and thighs as he secured the velcro of the padded fabric to you. You sent him a brief smile before he placed on your helmet and you got into position.

You and Harry fenced back and fourth until you got injured by Laertes' poisoned fencing sword and then you stabbed him back after getting into a fight with him. Then you had to throw away your helmet and run to your mother after she had been poisoned, holding her in your arms with false tears flowing until she died. You placed her down gently and stood up then started to act out the effects of the poison, clutching your 'wound' and you stomach.

Laertes then tells you that you have been poisoned and that Claudius was behind everything. You kill Claudius before letting out a pained wail, stumbling into Gwilym before he slowly fell to the ground cradling you. "Heaven make thee free of it! I follow thee. I am dead, Horatio. Wretched queen, adieu! You that look pale and tremble at this chance that are but mutes or audience to this act." You writhed in his hold and cried out in pain. Gwilym was choking up- but he wasn't acting. This scene always moved him to tears, even more so because of you. "Had I but time as this fell sergeant, death, is strict in his arrest. O, I could tell you...but let it be. Horatio, I am dead; Thou livest; report me and my cause aright to the unsatisfied." You weakly begged and traced your fingers tenderly across his jaw.

Gwilym shook his head, propping you up a little but still lovingly holding you. "Never believe it. I am more an antique Roman than a Dane! Here's yet some liquor left." He tried to drink the rest of the poisoned wine that your mother had drank.

"As thou'rt a man, give me the cup: let go; by heaven, I'll have't!" You snatched it before he could drink it and downed it all, letting the bright, crimson liquid stain your lips. He let out a sob as you let out an antagonising cry- you could hear more sniffles from the audience. "O good Horatio, what a wounded name, things standing thus unknown, shall live behind me!" His character was supposed to lean forward and attempt to capture your lips to try and derive some of the poison from him but before he could, Hamlet pressed his fingers to Horatio's lips to stop him. But Gwilym was a little too fast for you tonight and his lips just caught your own. That certainly was not in the script. You both froze with shock for a moment- you were certain you had heard Daisy gasp before you blinked back into reality and carried on with your lines. "If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart," you shakily spoke, a slight buzz flowing through your veins and nerves. Gwilym was looking at you with wide eyes as if to silently appologise for doing that. "Absent thee from felicity awhile, and in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain, to tell my story." He seemed just as shocked as you that he gave you a ghost of a kiss. But a part of him was overwhelmed with joy that he finally managed to feel your lips- even though it was very brief and faint. But it was no less magical. "O, I die, Horatio; The potent poison quite o'er-crows my spirit: I cannot live to hear the news from England; But I do prophesy the election lights on Fortinbras: he has my dying voice; So tell him, with the occurrents, more and less, which have solicited." You cupped his face and brightly smiled through your 'pain'. "The rest is silence."

Then you died in Gwilym's arms once more for the final time. A death you were happy to endure.

Gwilym hugged you, rocking you back and forth while crying. "Now cracks a noble heart. Good night sweet prince: and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!" He kissed your forehead- that kiss was scripted. Horatio and Fortinbras then talk of what had happened and then, as quick as it had begun, it was finally over.

Gwilym helped you upright and everyone took a bow as the audience clapped and cheered. All your cast mates then turned to you and clapped, you bashfully hid your face in your hands and chuckled. Then Hugh emerged with a bunch of flowers for you and you almost burst into tears. You reached up and kissed his cheek and then turned to Daisy and gave her platonic pecks on her cheeks, giving your Ophelia a flower from the bouquet before you all took a final bow and disappeared from the stage.

You didn't see Gwilym after coming off the stage, you were drowning in a sea of people congratulating you. But you managed to escape back to your dressing room and shed Hamlet's clothes then changed into your own. Daisy appeared and told you they were all heading to the afterparty. "I'll meet you all there soon," you tiredly smiled from your chair, your leg tucked underneath yourself. "I just need to organise my stuff out- I'll be an hour tops."

Daisy nodded "Alrighty! You were incredible, Y/N. It's been an absolute joy being your Ophelia. You and I are going to discuss that little delightful hiccup of Gwilym's earlier!" She pointed, referring to the kiss and you shook your head with a grin. "See you soon!" She blew you kisses then shut the door behind her, but not completely.

You sighed and picked up your bloodied fencing gear and sadly smiled. Gwilym was passing with his backpack thrown over his shoulder, he noticed the faint yellow glow pouring out of your dressing room door that was left ajar. He delicately chapped it with his knuckles before peering around the door. You looked up and silently encouraged him to come in, he did and shut the door over behind him, placing down his backpack and sitting across from you on another chair. You were still holding your fencing outfit.

"Just saying goodbye..." you admitted and half heartedly folded the outfit. Gwilym had a crooked smile on his face. Being immersed in such a pivotal and intense role was going to be hard to let go of- Gwilym had Horatio withdrawls already. You reached down to your bag and pulled out a script. "And then hello to Lady Macbeth." You couldn't hold back a wide, ecstatic smile.

Gwilym went wide-eyed and gasped "You got the part?! That's amazing! I'm so happy for you!" He was almost as excited as you. You had told him how much you wanted the role since you auditioned for it two months ago.

"Thank you," you placed down the script, looking at it while you spoke to him. "Macbeth hasn't been cast yet- still holding auditions. Maybe you should go?" You suggested "You'd probably get the part."

You saw out of the corner of your eye Gwilym shrugging his shoulders. "I don't know..." he did hear the part was up for grabs.

You turned to look at him "If you do get it you'd get to properly kiss me on stage..." You saw his whole body tense and he opened his mouth, desperately trying to say something but all his mouth could do was open and snap shut over and over again. "It's alright!" You softly laughed and took his hand, lacing your fingers with his. Gwilym was wondering if this was all a dream- that he'd fallen asleep in his dressing room. You squeezed his hand and he then knew he wasn't dreaming. "You know, if you wanted to kiss me...you could have just asked."

Without a second of hesitation Gwilym moved forward "From the moment I met you, Y/N, I have adored and admired you with all my heart. I like you, so much more than you'll ever know. Can I kiss you?"

"Yes," you smiled and felt his lips perfectly- and a little desperately- crash against yours before starting to move in sync.

He pulled back after a few moments, cupping your face with his soft hands "I have wanted to do that for so long- I swear I've almost kissed you on stage a hundred times!" You both laughed. You rested your forehead against his and looked in each other's eyes before peppering one another's lips with kisses.

"They aren't expecting me to turn up for a little while and I've got a perfectly good bottle of champagne in my mini-fridge that I was saving for tonight." Your suggestion made Gwilym grin. "The only thing is I've got no glasses, only teacups."

"That's alright," Gwilym softly laughed and kissed you again "You have whichcraft in your lips..." he lowly murmured before hotly kissing you, sending a wave of ecstasy and a jolt of electricity through your body.

"We're onto Henry V now are we?" You teased and stood up, popping open the champagne and pouring it into teacups. You clinked them together and took a sip. Gwilym sat down on the sofa that was against the wall of the dressing room and then reached out to you, pulling you towards him and onto his lap. One of his hands rubbed your thighs and you contently sighed.

"I’ll make my heaven in a lady’s lap..." You playfully rolled his eyes at yet another Shakespeare quote- this time from Henry VI part three. He placed down your cups and you both shared another kiss. "I feel like I'm in heaven here with you." You wrapped your arms around one another and remained like that on the couch for a little while until you had to go to the party.

You had died in his arms again only this time in way that made you feel more alive than ever.

———————–————

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[unpack-my-heart]

But Break, My Heart, For I Must Hold My Tongue

@violetreddie​ @constantreaderfool​ @tinyarmedtrex​ @xandertheundead​ @mrs-vh​ @eds-trashmouth​ 

[Moodboard by the amazing @violetreddie​ <3]

Read on ao3 HERE

“The rest is silence”

Eddie watches Richie’s face shift from painted anguish to peaceful nothingness. He watches Richie’s eyes dance under his eyelids, a wakeful dream. Eddie had memorised the choreography when he’d sat up late at night whilst Richie slept, eyes two-stepping and arms blindly grabbing for Eddie.

“Now cracks a noble heart. Good night sweet Hamlet, and –”

Richie’s eyes fly open.

“Good night sweet prince,” Eddie corrects, and Stan’s face blanches.

“Shit! Sorry. Good night sweet prince, and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest! Uh …”

“Why does…” Eddie prompts, but Stan doesn’t finish the line.

“Why does the drum come hither?” Eddie supplies, voice schooled into careful apathy, not wanting to spook the flighty animal stood in front of him, with Richie’s head cradled loosely in his lap.  

Richie’s eyes close again, and Eddie holds his breath.

“Why does the drum come hither?”

Fortinbras storms in, but Eddie doesn’t look at him. Horatio and Fortinbras exchange terse words, but Eddie cannot draw his eyes away from Richie’s face. The last time he’d seen this expression painted on his brow was the night before he’d told Eddie to leave, when they’d held each other all night and the acceptance letter had turned poisonous and fetid in Eddie’s bag.

“Not from his mouth, had it the ability of life to thank you, he … he … FUCK!”

Richie’s eyes open again.

“He never gave commandment for their death” Richie said, in a tone that Eddie imagined was supposed to be helpful but caused Stan to visibly bristle.

“You’re supposed to be dead”

“I’m just trying to help”

“I don’t need your help, Richard” Stan deadpanned, staring down at Richie with

“Look, you’re obviously struggling, I was just –”

“Richie, can you give us a moment, please?”

Richie stands up, uncharacteristically quiet, and slinks out of the room, tail between his legs.

The air in the small rehearsal room hangs like smog, heavy on their shoulders. Stan’s shaking, just barely, and Eddie knows that Stan thinks Eddie’s going to sack him, relieve him of his part and send him back into the wilderness, nameless.

Eddie sits down on the floor in the middle of the room, carefully arranging his limbs in an attempt to look less threatening, less like the person that could erase Horatio’s world with a snap of his fingers.

“Come sit”

Stan hesitates, before taking measured steps over to where Eddie is sat in a half-lotus position, hands clasped in his lap.

Stan sits.

“How much do you remember of our RADA days?”

Stan blinks.

“Uh, most of it, I guess? I remember – I remember you were in our seventeenth-century tragedy class before –”

Eddie smiles, lips drawn into a lazy, lopsided grin. Honest.

“Heh. Before I left, you mean?”

“Yup. Richie was pretty crushed”

“I don’t want to talk about Richie,” Eddie replies, voice gentle but laced with do not do not do not, “I want to talk about you”

“Look, Eddie, I know – I know I’m fucking it up. I know that I’m probably not the Horatio you want me to be, but… I’m trying? I’m trying so fucking hard, Eddie, honest I am. I just – I can’t seem to – I really want …”

“Do you remember Jacques?”

“How could I forget Jacques? I’m pretty sure anyone who has had even a three second interaction with Jacques remembers him,” Stan says, voice several ounces lighter.

Eddie shifts, right leg numb and protesting. He ends up sitting on his ass with his legs pin-straight out in front of him. Stan does the same.

“Jacques told me to leave RADA. He told me that I was never going to reach my potential in that environment, that it wasn’t the right place for me to grow, to flower. I didn’t hate him for saying it. I hated myself. Of course I felt like a failure. I’d tried and tried and tried but it wasn’t ever going to happen. I’d never be the prodigy my mother told me I was going to be”

“Eddie, are you–” Stan whispers, but Eddie shakes his head violently.

“Let me finish, Stan. I handed in my letter of intention before they could ask me to leave. That made it easier. I went out on my own terms.”

“Do you – are you asking me to –”

“Stan!”

“Sorry”

“I didn’t want it enough. I never did. Never have. I want this,” Eddie gestures wildly around the small rehearsal room, to his desk where his papers lay strewn across the surface like autumn leaves, to the grubby mirrors where he watched his cast metamorphosize every day, to the ceiling that he’d stare at, and thank a God he doesn’t believe in for giving him all of this, for letting him take it and consume it and become corpulent.

“You want it” Eddie announces after a beat of silence, and it isn’t a question.

“I want it” Stan parrots, staring at Eddie with wide, help me help me help me eyes.

“You want it, and I’ll help you get it. You’ve been cast for a reason, Stan. Claire saw something in you, something she knew I could nurture, and she was right. You are my Horatio, and as long as you’re willing to work with me, I’ll claw him out of you.”

Stan looks bewildered, like Eddie had just agreed to lasso the moon and drag it down just for him.

“Even if you did fuck up, it’d be nothing to do with you, anyway. That’d be on me. I’m your director, this production is my responsibility and mine alone. All of you, Horatio, Ophelia, Claudius,” Eddie pauses, screwing his eyes closed, before opening them again and locking eyes with Stan, “Hamlet. All of you. This is my ship and if it goes down, it’ll have been me who bore holes in the deck.”

“I don’t know what to say”

“Say you’ll stay, say you’ll work with me, say you’ll let me help you grow”

– X –

“Why are you giving Horatio more attention than me? I’m supposed to be the lead!”

It takes Richie longer than Eddie had guessed to detonate.

“Pardon?” Eddie answers, ready to go toe to toe with the Prince of Denmark on a battlefield of his own making, but Stan’s voice gets there first.

“Stop being a fucking child, Richie”

And they’re off. A verbal sparring match, the fencing scene several acts too soon. Eddie watches them, hidden in the corner like Polonius behind the curtain, expecting to get stabbed in the stomach by a rogue insult.

The fight is over almost as soon as it had begun, however, as Richie drops his sword and a pitiful ‘what happened to us’ falls to the ground instead.

Then Eddie’s name falls from Stan’s lips and he feels that puncture wound he’d been waiting for.

“There hasn’t been an ‘us’ since you ignored me when Eddie left,” Stan replies, eyes downcast, “I missed you, Rich, I rang you for two fucking years, of course I missed you. But this petulant child isn’t you. You need to sort it out. You can’t draw him in when you’re pushing everyone else out”

Eddie releases a wounded howl ripped straight from the part of his heart that he had locked away when he’d left Richie sat at that dining room table fourteen years ago.

Richie turns, horror evident in his pained expression.

“Eddie”

– X –

As soon as he saw him, Eddie knew that Michael Hanlon was made for the role of Ophelia. The softness of his face contrasted with the feral nymph in his eyes, the liberate me timbre of his voice, all of it. With flowers woven in his hair, Mike had captivated Eddie from the first syllable. Whilst watching him work with Richie, the way Mike had managed to distil the naivety of youth so perfectly that it fell from his skin in waves, Eddie had never felt so lucky.

“My lord, I have remembrances of yours, that I have longed long to re-deliver; I pray you, now receive them.”

Mike tries to thrust a small collection of letters into Richie’s hands but Richie sends them flying into the sky, only to rain back down on them like snowflakes, alike but subtly different. A sickness gnaws at Eddie’s stomach when he remembers the letters he’d sent to Richie, and whether Richie would condemn them to the ground, unread. Unopened.

Richie responds with a cold, “No, not I; I never gave you aught”, and the sickness in Eddie’s stomach grows stronger, and stronger.

I never gave you aught.

Never gave you aught.

Oh, but Richie, you gave me everything.

Mike slumps to the floor, rehearsal dress pooling around him. Richie grabs his face between his hands, and whispers through gritted teeth, “get thee to a nunnery!” and it’s perfect. It’s too perfect.

Richie stalks off, standing in the corner of the room that indicated that he was now off-stage and Eddie doesn’t look at him. He doesn’t look, he doesn’t look, he mustn’t look but then he does look and Richie’s looking right back.

They share a small smile.

Mike continues to howl.

#reddie #hamlet au #theatre au #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #Richie Tozier x Eddie Kaspbrak #but break my heart for i must hold my tongue #ao3 #thefutureisbright

[lighterandpaper]

Fate

Photo by @seffen99

Fate bobbles up to Laurie. “Aunt Laurie?” she says. 

Laurie gazes at the girl. Good god, she must be twelve. Another decade slipped by. “Yes?” 

“Momma said to ask you about the reapers, she says that you know more about them than anyone. Who is, um... McGrooper?” 

Laurie looks at Henry, who has his newest sculpture almost finished. He’s on his feet, balancing about twelve different chunks of metal. He looks at her sweetly, knowingly. 

“McGregor,” Laurie says. “He’s the only one anyone has seen so far, actually.” 

Fate sits down. “Why?” 

Laurie, still a little confused, looks to Anna. She watches, mothering look mixed with mild concern. She looks at Laurie and nods slightly. 

“Well, I don’t know. Maybe they are territorial and this is McGregor’s woods.”

“Wow,” Fate says. “McGregor owns everything out there?” 

Laurie smiles. “In a way, yes. Do you want to hear about the first time that I saw him?” 

“Yeah!” Fate says. 

Laurie gazes off, life coming back to her eyes. “I was really scared, Fate,” Laurie says, emotions coming back into her body. “I heard him growl, and I was worried something was going to happen to your dad.” 

Fate gasps. 

“Don’t worry,” Laurie says, “he’s OK. But I was worried. I heard a thump... and then I saw the eyes...” 

“What were they like?” 

Laurie thinks. “You’ve never seen an animal, have you?” 

Fate shakes vigorously. 

“Sometimes, when you see some animals, you can tell they are just like you…” she pokes Fate. “You can see it in their eyes.” She gazes into the girl’s eyes, becoming McGregor in her mind. 

“Fate!” George shouts. “Come here, now!” 

Fate shrinks. “Ok, Dad,” she says. She bobbles off. 

“Weren’t you watching her?” George says to Anna. 

“Yes!” Anna says. She glances in Laurie’s direction. “I thought Laurie could tell her about the--um, the reaper.” 

George allows a pause. “You want her curious about the monster that took me? That almost took you? That thing is the single biggest threat to our survival.” 

Laurie pulls Fate into her arms and shrinks. “I didn’t think it would hurt for her to know about it.” 

George picks up a tray left over from breakfast and hurls it across the dome. “No more!” he says. “We don’t talk about the monsters!” He turns to Laurie. “Do you understand me? Do not talk to my daughter about those monsters!” 

“Yeah, George, that’s fine,” Laurie says. 

George glares into her eyes for another moment. “Anyone else think we need to discuss this?” he asks the room. 

Horatio keeps his head low, Anna bounces Fate, and Soren hasn’t moved, meditating facing the forest. 

“Good,” George says. “I’ll be back later to tell a story.” He walks toward his bedroom, white, now dirty at the feet, robe flapping behind. 

Henry takes his time making sure he doesn’t drop anything as he sets his pieces on the floor. He goes to Laurie, who is crying. 

“Why didn’t you say something?” she growls. 

Henry considers. “What did you want me to say?” 

Laurie pulls away. “Nothing. You never say anything, so I guess nothing.” 

Henry sits down and wipes his hands, getting comfortable. 

“I don’t need your fucking patience,” she says. “Go back and do your metal thing and leave me alone.” 

Henry sighs. “Can I sit here if I want to?” 

“Why did you marry me?” Laurie asks. 

“What?” 

“Why did you marry me? Is it because you wanted to make me feel better?” 

“What are you talking about?” he asks. 

“You married me because I felt like shit. Well, I still do, so... I don’t need your charity.” 

Henry’s eyes are wide. “I didn’t marry you to make you feel better... I married you because I love you. I have since we met--” 

“Yeah, you told me this one,” she says. 

Henry is quiet. 

“I just need some time,” she says after a while. 

Henry goes back to his sketch pad. 

After a little while longer, Laurie goes back to her room, feeling an overwhelming urge to weep. She cries so hard that she throws up. She has been nauseous for the last few mornings, and her heart begins to beat with unbearable anxiety. With a deep breath, she pulls out the pregnancy test that she had grabbed that morning. 

It’s positive.

That was the last day of sun. The rains return, and they are especially dark and stormy. 

Laurie is glad to have an excuse to sleep away from Henry. She pulls her bed into the open area and brings a little LED light and her notepad. It isn’t long before McGregor appears on the dome with his now comforting thump. 

He settles on the top of the dome, very near to her. His burning yellow eyes come closer to the surface, so he can see her. He rumbles with what Laurie knows is recognition. 

“Hi, McGregor,” she says. She lifts her fingers in a little wave. 

He rumbles again. 

“I’m pregnant,” she whispers. 

At the words, his eyes disappear. Laurie sits up a little, concerned. 

His paw presses against the surface until the claws begin to dig into the hard plastic. Laurie sits all the way up. He pulls back, a little stuck, plucking his claws out. His paw comes back, much harder. He begins to pound the dome, pulling big chucks of plastic with each swing. 

“Oh no,” Laurie says. She stands. 

McGregor continues to pound. Finally, a paw-sized hole is open and rain begins to pour in. He rumbles into the opening. 

“Help!” Laurie screams. She doesn’t know what can be done, but she can’t just let him in without saying anything. “Help! Reaper!” 

Soren is the first to appear. She hasn’t seen him active in a while; he mostly meditates. He runs to her, George, Henry, Tina close behind. 

“Stay back!” Laurie says to Anna and Horatio as they come out as well. “You don’t have clones! Stay as far away as you can!” 

Anna glances up to see the reaper tearing his way through the dome, and she swiftly and calmly picks up her daughter, turns her head away, and makes her way to the other side of the dome. Horatio is close behind. 

The remaining five can do nothing but watch as the reaper tears a bigger and bigger hole. He finally stops. The silence is filled with the sound of falling water. 

He drops in, shaking the entire platform with his surreal weight. 

Laurie grabs Henry and holds him tight. “I’m sorry...” she says. She lets go and approaches McGregor. 

“Laurie!” Henry says. 

“He only wants me,” she says. The four stare, stunned. “Listen to me,” Laurie says. “Take one of your metal pieces and attach it to the antenna as soon as I’m gone.” 

Henry is a step in front of the rest. “But...” he says. “Our baby.” 

Laurie’s face drops. “You knew?” 

Henry is hyperventilating. “Let him take me,” he says. 

Laurie turns to McGregor and looks in his eyes. “He wants to show me something, Henry. I’m sorry.” 

Henry’s teary eyes dart around. He throws himself at the reaper. “Take me!” he says. 

McGregor swipes Henry out of the way with a paw, cutting him across the chest. He tumbles and slides across the floor. 

“McGregor!” Laurie says. “Stop that. Let’s go.”

McGregor takes Laurie in his mouth without stunning her. “I’m so sorry, Henry!” she says. “Soren,” she says, looking at his oddly serene face. “If he can’t make it up there, I want you to affix the antenna, OK?” 

He nods. 

She taps McGregor, feels his body tense, and braces herself as he flings them up through the hole and out into the forest. 

#fate #don't fear the reaper #reaper #marriage #pragnancy #alive #writing #writer's block #wedding #Stream of conscious writing #keepwriting #writeblr #writblr #story #short story #storytelling #start over #flash fiction #microfiction #flashfiction #fiction #short fiction

[illogicalpunkwrites]

Studies in Anatomy

Hi! So this is the first time I’m posting one of my Star Trek fics and I’m a little nervous! I hope you like it! If you’d like to be tagged in future fics please let me know! Thank you so much for reading!

“I don’t understand why I need this, I’m aiming for Chief of Security not CMO.” You grumbled as you flipped through the pictures on your PADD. Bones sniffed in laughter next to you as he went through his own advanced notes on xenoanatomy.

“Think of it this way, you’ll know which bones and cartilage to break.” He replied and you laughed.

“I was a bounty hunter before this, I think I know where to hit.” You swore if you saw another foramen of the skull again you would lose your mind. You swore a lot of things that night, including that you wouldn’t touch the bottle you had stashed under your bed. Good thing you went to Bones’ room instead where you weren’t tempted by booze...well, your booze. “It’s not really all that hard, I’m good at memorizing things but it’s just that everything sounds the damn same. There’s 4 different foramen in the sphenoid bone alone: Foramen lacerum, foramen rotundum, foramen ovale, and foramen spinosum. Who was the son of a bitch that decided that they all need to start the same?”

“Foramen is literally Latin for “opening” and all four of those are openings in the sphenoid bone.” He replied, his voice dripping heavy with sarcasm. You scrunched your nose at him and moved on to the vertebral column. His back was turned to yours and you couldn’t help but smirk…maybe the good doctor could help you study? You poked near the top of his neck. “My God, what’re you doing?” He nearly yelped and you stifled a laugh.

“Cervical curvature, this is the atlas which doesn’t have a spinous process or body but the axis has both of those and a dens. C1-C7.”

“Do I look like a holographic skeleton to you?”

“Lemme guess: You’re a doctor, not a skeleton? Well actually when you think about it we’re all skeletons, Leonard Horatio.”

“Dammit don’t middle name me.” He couldn’t help the corners of his lips turning up. “You’re going crazy from cramming all this info.” You put your finger against his seemingly permanently raised eyebrow.

“Supraorbital foramen.” You replied and he rolled his eyes.

“A little high, darlin’.” He sassed.  He put your finger to his outer cheek. “What’s this?”

“Zygomatic bone.” He moved your finger alongside it near his ear. “Zygomatic process.”

“You good? Or do you want me to keep being your skeleton? I don’t mind, I can tell you if you’re right or wrong. Just don’t pretend I’m an Andorian skeleton because I might not be able to help you there.” You pointed to his forehead.

“Frontal bone, separated from the rest by the coronal suture.”

“What are the other sutures?”

“Lambdoid at the occipital, squamous at the temporal, sagittal in between the parietal.” He nodded and put your hand away from his head.

“Main parts of the ethmoid bone.”

“Crista galli, cribriform plate with olfactory foramina.” You stumbled over the words, the vowels tasting something awful in your mouth and he sniffed a bit. He took your hands and placed them against his chest.

“What are these named?”

“You glorious pecs?” He rolled his eyes and you nearly cackled, making him laugh too. “Those are your true ribs, numbers 1-7. Then there’s the false ribs, numbers 8-10, and floating false ribs which are 11 and 12.”

“Y’know, it would help if you weren’t such a smartass.”

“Oh look who’s talking!” You laughed and grabbed his chin with your thumb and forefingers. “Mandible.”

“What are the main parts of the mandible?”

“Mandibular condyle, mandibular notch, coronal process, alveolar process, and mental foramen.”

“You’re gonna do fine.” He told you and you sighed. “You are.”

“I knew I shoulda gone to college.” You whined and he chuckled. You took your hand away from his chin and rubbed your eyes. “I do like anatomy, it’s just a lot to remember and not fuck up.”

“Oh I know.”

“But at least I’ve got a handsome skeleton with the same love of bourbon.” You flirted and you could see him getting flustered, something you enjoyed doing. It seemed you and Jim were similar in that regards, getting a thrill in throwing people off their game. But without noticing, he tapped the middle of your back.

“What’s that?”

“Thoracic curvature. T1-T12.” You answered and he nodded. Placed his hand on the small of your back and it was your turn to be flustered. The bastard smirked and you quickly fought through your state. “Saccral curvature, 5 fused vertebrae with the sacrum and coccyx.”  

“Thought I would get you there.”

“I’m not so easily swayed by your tactics.”  

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” Jim announced and you could hear the smile in his voice. You two both took one scoot away from each other and faced your friend.

“Bones was just helping me study.” You replied.

“Helped yourself to one of my sweatshirts, I see.” He said as he took off his jack and sat on his bed across from you.

“Hey, you owe me one after you fuckin’ ripped mine in AC!” You accused and he lifted his hands in surrender. “Usually you’re the one with ripped shirts.”

“Since when?” He asked incredulously.

“Since forever.” Both you and Bones said and Jim, being the little shit he was, crossed his arms over his chest.

“You two are starting to sound like an old married couple.”

“We do not!”

“My God!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll leave you two to study anatomy. I’m just grabbing my book before going off to study myself.” He announced giddily and you rolled your eyes.

“Study, my ass.” Bones grumbled and you chuckled.

“Don’t forget we’re supposed to demonstrate for the other cadets on how to properly use staffs.” Over the past two years of being at Star Fleet, you and Jim had become close friends and had been asked to lead the advanced combat (AC) class together. It kept things…interesting to say the least. You often came back with bruises both superficial and deep but Jim fared no worse. It was simply the nature of the class and the best way to teach was to demonstrate and practice.

“Yeah, yeah I know and you’ll kick my ass. You’re deadly with those things.”

“I’ll go easy on you if you come in on time.” You held your hand out and he shook it.

“I don’t quite believe you but okay. Have fun you two, be safe!” A devious idea popped into your head, but Bones spoke up before you could.

“Wait, who are you studying with?” He asked and Jim leaned against the doorway with a smug look on his face.

“Christine.” He replied and you nodded slowly.

“Y’know what they say about medbay girls right?” You started and saw Bones staring at you from the corner of your eye. “They love it when you use correct anatomical terminology. Like if you touch their patella or something like that, make sure you say the anatomical term.”

“Bones, is this a thing?”

“Oh yeah! Trust me, I’m a doctor.” Jim stared at the two of you for a minute before making a ‘not bad’ sort of expression.

“Noted, bye!” When the door closed you literally snorted and rested your head against Bones’ shoulder. He couldn’t help but laugh too, poor Christine.

“Y’know, he isn’t dumb by any means. He’s a genius! But goddamn is he gullible.” Bones remarked and you wiped tears from your eyes.

“God I cannot wait for Christine to tell me and Nyota what happened. That’s gonna make my whole week!”

“Need to study anymore?” He asked as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders to be more comfortable.

“Mind if I take a break?”

“Nah, I think I’ll join you. I think we’re in the same boat right now.”  You two were silent for a moment or two but it was nice, neither of you overwhelmed by cursed body sciences. He lied down with a sigh and you mimicked him. “Jim’s gonna kill you when he finds out. He’s gonna have a weapon tomorrow.”

“Yeah but a weapon he’s not very efficient in, anything like a staff was my go to if I needed a makeshift weapon before joining up.” You shrugged.

“Please tell me what Chapel tells you about it, I’ll need leverage.”

“Deal.” You replied and moved your head so it rested more on his chest. His hand went down to your torso instead of your shoulder and pressed down with his fingertips. “False ribs.”

“Good.”

“You mind if I rest my eyes a bit, Len? I’ll leave soon.” You asked and heard a rumble in his chest as he yawned.

“Go ahead, I’ll do the same.”

XXXXX

The beeping of an alarm clock made your groan and burrow your face into Bones’ chest. He cursed under his breath and blindly put his hand out to hit the top of the clock and rubbed his hand down his face.

“What time is it?” You mumble.

“7.” You whined in response. Well, at least you intended to go back to your room. Nyota was going to grill you as soon as you walked through the door. It really wasn’t a secret you and Bones flirted with each other and it wasn’t a secret between you and your roommate that you had a massive crush on the doctor. The teasing became unbearable sometimes and you learned to tease Nyota right back with her crush on Commander Spock (though you were sure something was happening between them). Bones talking pulled you away from your thoughts.

“Huh?”

“I said looks like we’re not alone.” He replied and motioned with his head to the bed next to him. You turned in his arms to see Jim, curled up on his side and his hair flat on one side.

“I guess that means Christine doesn’t have a thing for anatomy.” You mused and felt Bones chuckle behind you. “I should get out before he wakes up and kills me. I’ll need that staff to fend him off.” You sat from him to slip on your shoes and looked back at him. “Your hair’s cute in the morning.” You reached over and fixed it back to its regular state. You slung on your messenger bag and squeezed his shoulder. “I’ll see you around, Len. Thanks for helping me out.”

“Anytime, darlin’. Don’t beat up Jim too bad.” You smiled at him before pattering out and quietly closing the door.

“Bones, you’re an idiot.” Jim stated groggily and Bones sighed.

“What?”

“That girl’s crazy about you.” Bones couldn’t help but roll his eyes and strolled over to start making coffee.

“She’s not, we’re just friends.”

“She literally told you your hair’s cute in the morning. No girl says that unless they like you.” Jim replied, rolling on his back to follow his roommate’s movements. “Plus, she’s the only one that calls you Len.”

“Because she asked if it was okay.”

“And have you noticed that she uses it like you call her darlin?” Bones finally looked over at Jim with his arms crossed over his chest. “She calls you that because it’s her term of endearment for you. So why don’t you admit it and say that you’re chicken shit?” Bones poured the black coffee into his mug and it took every fiber of his being not to toss it at Jim. But he remembered his oath to do no harm and kept it close to his chest.

“You’re out of your Iowan mind.”

“And you’re out of your Georgian mind if you’re never gonna step up and ask her out.” Jim replied sharply. “And she’s out of her mind for pranking me yesterday, oh I’m gonna get her good!”

Scurrying across campus and sliding into your room, thankful to see Nyota wasn’t there. In fact, she came in about twenty minutes later as you had gotten out of the shower.

“Well, well, well looks who it is.” You sang as you rubbed a towel against your hair. “Why’re you so late? Does it have anything to do with a certain pointy eared science officer?” Nyota scrunched her nose at you but looked confused when you grabbed her foundation. “Hickey at four o’clock.” You tossed it to her and she quickly changed into her uniform.

“Thanks. Don’t tell anyone, alright?” She asked with a sheepish smile and you waved her off. “But I left at about 1am and you weren’t here either. Were you with a certain southern doctor?” You began to part and brush your hair and she came up next to you to fix her make up.

“I was, but we were studying anatomy.” She looked over at you with a single eyebrow raised. “The actual subject.”

“Are you two ever going to get together? I don’t like Jim very much but at least we both agree on you two. He says he talks to McCoy about it all the time.”

“Are you two gossiping behind my back?” You accused and she laughed.

“He’s right, you two are starting to sound alike.” You rolled your eyes and pulled out your cadet reds and pushed your Fleet gym clothes into your bag. “So, in all seriousness, did anything happen last night?”

“No we just accidentally fell asleep after he acted as my skeleton.” You replied and she couldn’t help but sigh incredulously. “Nyota, nothing’s going on between us. I think he still needs time, you know how messy his divorce was. I’m not gonna jump on him like that.”

“It’s been over two years.”

“And it still hurts him. I can’t blame him, he had to leave his daughter behind.” You replied, beginning to dry your hair but Nyota pulled away the dryer and turned it off.

“So you’re worried about hurting him?” She began and you just looked at her and tried to think of something to say. “Is that what this is all about?”

“I mean…” You stumbled over your words and stuttered. “Yes and no? I would never hurt him intentionally but what if just being in a relationship again hurts him? What if it’s still too soon and I remind him of her?”

“From what you’ve told me about his ex, you’re nothing like her.” Nyota smiled softly. “You should think about stepping up. Maybe not today, but soon. Preferably after the 30th of this month.” With your brows furrowed, you watched your roommate leave the bathroom and you finished drying your hair and started putting on a quick flick of eyeliner along with the rest of your daily makeup. Nyota sat on her bed and got some quick studying in.

“So…you and Spock. Are you two-“

“We’re dating, albeit secretly.” She answered. “But we’re not quite official yet.” You slid on your uniform and grabbed your bag and started to leave.

“Oh! If you see Christine, ask her about Jim.” You smiled fiendishly and her jaw dropped.

“No!”

“Well…maybe. I may or may not have given Jim some poor advice and he was in Len’s room this morning. Not usually his place when he studies with the pretty cadets.” You replied and your roommate chuckled.

“Are you gonna tell me?”

“If she doesn’t, I will. But if she does, find me so she can tell me exactly what happened.”

XXXXXX

“I thought you said you’d go easy on me!” Jim ground out as you continued to attack him with the staff. The sounds of the hits rang though out the gym, along with both of your heavy breathing and grunts.

“This is going easy on you!” You replied, making your cadets chuckle. Jim let his frustration get the better of him, letting his guard down and trying to attack you at full force. However he forgot he also needed to block so you easily used the stick to sweep him off of his feet and swirled the other end to stop just before it hit the tendon in his neck. He breathed hard and looked up at you with wide eyes.

“Well, that’s a way to shatter my ego.” You smirked down at him.

“Your ego’s too big to shatter.” You pulled your staff away and dug it into the mat you were standing on so it could bear your weight. “Who can tell me what went wrong?” You asked your cadets and they were quiet for a moment. You were a little different around your cadets. Around friends you were pretty relaxed but you didn’t mess around with the students. You were still approachable, but you were also known to be a bit of a hard ass. You had to be to teach them how to fight better than the instructors before you, most of the students would go into security and you saw the mortality rates among them. You felt like it was your duty to try and keep those numbers down.

“He forgot to protect himself?”

“Good, Cadet Morrow, but there’s something else.” When there were no takers and you helped Jim back up, you answered. “He lost control of his emotions and immediately lost the fight. You need to be able to think quickly but also reign yourself in. That’s what kills a lot of security out there; they don’t think through their actions and act entirely on impulse. As soon as you lose control of yourself, you lose control of the fight.”

“Everyone pair up, we’ll walk around to see how you’re doing in a bit. Just do some of the practice moves first and then about ten minutes actually spar.” Jim added and they buddied up and began to lightly practice. You looked over at him and tapped him on the shoulder with the staff.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I kinda knew that’s how today would go.” He replied. “Round two?”

“You sure you wanna do that?” You asked, resting your hand on your hip. The cadets were busy chatting and hitting, no one really paying mind to the both of you. Jim picked his staff back up and got back into stance.

“Bring it.” You twirled it in your hand as you got into stance. “Go.” He started attacking first, trying to go for your shin, but you easily blocked it. “Oh, and you better watch you back.”

You blocked again as he went for your ribs.

“Why? Does this have anything to do with Chapel?” You lunged for his crotch but he dodged just in time.

“Dirty move. But yes, now you’re on my shit list!” He replied and you laughed as you dodged when he lunged the staff at your sternum.

“How come Bones isn’t on your shit list? He helped me out!” You replied and tried to go for the back of his knee but he grabbed your staff and pushed you away.

“Because I want to see him live long enough to not be chicken shit.” You blocked a particularly harsh attack and took a deep breath.

“Meaning?”

“Meaning you two need to get over yourselves.” He blocked an attack from you and you began to get frustrated at where the conversation was going.  “Just go ahead and get together already.”

“Jim I-“

“Cadet (Y/L/N)?” You turned to face a student, but Jim had already gone through with his attack and hit you square in the side of the head. You fell to the ground with a thud, and heard Jim and your cadets freaking out before your vision went dark.

XXXXX

“Oh my God!” Jim yelped and hurried over to you. He checked to make sure no blood was spilling out of your head and to make sure it wasn’t cracked. Thankfully, it wasn’t but he’d still knocked you out cold. “Cadets, class is dismissed!” The students lingered for a bit before scurrying out. He hurried over to the communicator and probably pressed the button too hard.  “Kirk to medbay, Kirk to medbay!”

“What is it Jim?”

“Oh that’s just great!” Jim thought as soon as he heard Bones’ voice.

“So, uh, something happened and I need you to come down here with a stretcher.”

“On my way. Student?”

“No, instructor.” Jim waited as there was silence on the other line. “Bones?”

“I’m gonna kill you.” Before Jim could say anything else, Bones had disconnected. It didn’t take long for him and Chapel to rush into the room with the stretcher, Jim avoiding both of their gazes. Bones immediately leaned down and checked your pulse. “Darlin’, can you open your eyes?” When you didn’t respond, he pulled out a little light and lifted your eyelid to shine it on them. “Dammit Jim, she has a concussion! What the hell did you do?” He carefully placed your body on the rolling stretcher and Chapel immediately injected a hypo into your neck.

“I accidentally hit her with the staff when she wasn’t paying attention.”

“How does that even happen?” Chapel asked as they began to roll back to medbay.

“We were sparring and a cadet called her and I wasn’t able to stop what I was doing in time to not hit her.” Jim explained as best as he could. They transferred you to a bio bed and Bones hovered the tricorder around your head and stopped where you’d been originally hit.

“Nothing fractured, no bleeding. She’ll just need some more hypos and to take it easy for a day or two. Mild concussion.” He stopped and took a deep breath. “Nurse Chapel, you can check on other patients.” “Yes Doctor.” She began to walk out and nodded awkwardly at Jim.

“You’re lucky it wasn’t worse.” Bones said and Jim leaned against the wall with a sigh.

“I know. But she’ll be okay?”

“She’ll be fine.” Bones answered.

“Look I saw my roommate being rolled in here, I just want to know what happened.” They heard Uhura say and Jim lightly hit the back of his head against the wall.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Uhura rounded the corner and glared daggers at Jim.

“You hit her in the head?”

“I didn’t mean to! She’ll be fine, it’s just a minor concussion.” Jim defended. “Bones, back me up here!” Bones just stood there next to you with his arms crossed over his chest. “Bones, c’mon!”

“Right now it’s taking me every fiber of my being to remember my oath to do no harm.” He replied and Nyota looked nearly impressed with the doctor. “She’ll be up soon, but I’m sure she won’t want to see you when she wakes up.” Jim nodded and lifted his hands in defense.

“I’ll buy her some orchids as an apology.”

“As much as I don’t want to, I’ll go with you and see if there’s anything I can get her. Thanks Dr. McCoy.” Bones waved both of them off and looked at the charts to fill out your report. He did his best to calm himself down but seeing you unconscious wasn’t the best feeling in the world. He’d never actually hurt Jim, of course, but he believed that was the closest he’d ever gotten.

XXXXX

Your head was pounding as you were finally coming to. The right side of your head felt like someone was sitting on it while you were on a merry-go-round, you were that dizzy. You opened your eyes, squinting at first and expecting to still be in the gym but soon realized you were in medbay.

“Shit.” You rasped and tried to sit up.

“Hey, hey, take it easy darlin’.” A hand pushed you back down gently and you looked over to see Bones. “How’re you feelin’?”

“Where’s Jim? I need to kick his ass.” You replied and he chuckled, running his hand over your forehead to push hair out of your face. “Do you have anything for the pain and dizziness?” He quickly grabbed a hypo and injected it into your neck, making you instantly feel better.

“Scared me there for a while, usually people with concussions aren’t out for this long.” He said and your brows furrowed. “You were only out for a couple of hours but still enough to make me worry. You’ll be fine soon, just go easy for the next couple of days and get plenty of rest. But I want you to stay in here for the night.”

“Thanks, Len.” You felt along the side of your head and groaned. “Oh that’s gonna be delightful to deal with.”

“It’ll go down with time.” He grabbed your hand and put it back down to your side, however you were the one to lace your fingers together.

“Shouldn’t you be off duty?”

“I wasn’t gonna leave you here alone.” He replied and you smiled softly at him though still fighting through the light haze you were in. “What?”

“Y’know, Jim’s wrong when he called you chicken shit right before he knocked me out.” You stated and laughed when Bones’ demeanor changed.

“Well if I wasn’t gonna kill him before I am now.” You messed with the controls on the bed so that you could sit up while still resting your head and you saw a bag on the counter behind Bones.

“What’s that?”

“Oh, here. I called Jim and told him to get it. Jim and Uhura both went to go get you something but I’m not sure if they’re coming back.” He explained and you pulled out the paper to see a teddy bear with a red uniform on it. You laughed and pulled at the symbol its chest lightly.

“It’s so cute!” You praised and placed it to your side.

“I didn’t know what else to get you but I know you like stuffed animals so-“ You pulled on his collar so you could kiss his cheek and he shut up immediately.

“Len, I love it. Thank you.” You replied quietly and he looked over at you with an almost proud smirk. “And thanks for taking care of me and almost killing Jim on my behalf.”

“It’s what I’m here for, darlin’. That and to be your skeleton.” He replied and you smiled with a light laugh. You felt his hand on your cheek and you couldn’t help but lean into it. “You feel better?”

“Yeah, the hypo and the handsome doctor helped.” You replied but your smile left when you saw a look that you couldn’t quite distinguish cross his face. “Are you-“

You let out a little moan of surprise when you felt his lips on yours. It wasn’t a hot and heavy kiss, it was gentle but passionate to keep your injury in mind. Your hand went to the back of his head to his short cropped hair to keep him close to you as you kissed him back. He pulled away and you rested your forehead against his.

“You owe me twenty bucks.” You both looked to see Nyota and Jim. Nyota cursed under her breath to pull out her wallet.

“You bet on us?” You and Len asked.

“I thought it would take you at least another month.” Nyota shrugged and handed Jim the money.

“So me hitting you in the head wasn’t all for nothing!” Jim beamed and you just glared at him, making his smile fall. He looked down at the money and offered it to you. “I can give you twenty dollars.”

“Keep your damn money.” You replied and the unlikely pair looked at each other. “You two sound so much alike it freaks me out.” Nyota stated.

“We do not!”

“My God, will you two leave?” Bones barked and the two scurried away. He shook his head and looked back at you.

“So…when I’m all recovered would you want to go out?” You began and his eyes widened. “As a date, not studying anatomy.”

“Doesn’t that usually happen on the third date?”

“Oh you cheeky bastard.” You replied, making him laugh. He leaned forward again and gave you a quick peck.

“I’ll start thinking about a place for us to go.”

#leonard mccoy #leonard mccoy x reader #star trek #star trek fanfiction

[multiverseanimecrossover]

Phenomenon Serendipity: Sinmore and Darcy (One Shot)

All for the honor of Fairy Gone, this anime impact me so much that I wrote this. I REFUSE TO LET ANYONE HATE ON THE SHOW FOR NO APPARENT REASON! IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT FINE BUT DON'T BE SO HARD ON IT ALL RIGHT?! Thank you!

Sinmore heard an earsplitting roar and quivered in fear. But she soon heard the monster was gone and heard a knock on the door. The door opens to reveal a gentle voice and a girl with her hand out. “Are you OK?” The voice asked. Sinmore was shy but nodded. “Good, don’t be afraid. I’m Marlya Noel, you’re safe now.” For the time being; Evelyn was taken to an organization known as Cold Fire where she meets the commander name Nein and tells her she’s looking for someone that is missing. Nein was suspicious but understood the girl’s situation. Sinmore didn’t know about the entities and lied about being shelter. Later while in a strange vehicle; Sinmore glanced out the window as Free drove. “Not from around here?” Free asked. Sinmore looked apprehensive, “It’s complicated.” She said. She explains she is looking for someone. In a while on at night; Sinmore, Marlya and Free arrived at the site where there was a girl and a young man there. Sinmore, Marlya and Free arrived at the site where there was a girl and a young man there. The young man was a sniper who had a rifle with him. Just then, Klara was picking up movement but Sinmore peeked over to see a girl fighting Veronica. “Oh my God, that’s her! That’s the girl I’m looking for!” Sinmore whispered. “Who?” asked Free in a whisper. “The girl fighting Veronica….Dead Eye Darcy!” Sinmore replied. During the fight; Dead Eye Darcy is talking to herself, she was singing softly to herself while weeping. Serge and Klara looked down as she closed her eyes and used her fairy to see. “Got anything?” Serge asked. “I got a visual on her.” Reported Klara. Then, Darcy whirled her head with a glare, “I KNOW YOU’RE THERE, LITTLE BITCH!!!” She cried. She charged over and tried to punch Klara when Serge stops Darcy. “Uh-uh, little lady, I wouldn’t. Just take it easy, tigress…” He was about to say. “GET OFF ME!!!” Dead Eye Darcy screamed. She shoved him away and backs off. “Any man touched me, you’ll regret it!” She warned. Just then, there was monster surrounding Dead Eye Darcy. “Ready to fight?” Free asked. Sinmore got her gun ready, “Depends.” She said. Free looks at her, “You know how to fight?” He asked. Sinmore smiled, “Of course, I was just saying ‘depends on if you let me’.” She said. “I do.” Free replied. Sinmore fires gun at the monsters. 

Serge grinned from ear to ear, “All right, that’s more like it.” He praised. “You call that ambition?” Dead Eye Darcy snapped. Sinmore steps forward and managed to talk to Dead Eye Darcy who did not listen and complained about how life was unfair to her, she feels alone and scared. “No one CARES!!!!” Darcy yelled. “I care, she cares—we all care. C’mon, open up!” Sinmore begged. Darcy attacks Marlya’s fairy entity but it also hurts Marlya too, this shocked Darcy as she apologizes while she breaks down while Corinna comes to see if she’s OK. Serge was surprised, “Where did you come from?” He asked. “From above, I’m a fairy~!” said Corinna with a wink. “Oh my God…” muttered Darcy. Serge looked amused but then saw a cut on her shoulder and examines it. Corinna feels Serge’s touch and blushed, Darcy blushed as well. “Damn it, Corinna! Stop blushing like a little girl!” She mumbled. Darcy’s other Corruptions realized this was getting seriously bad and decide to leave, Sinmore refused to let her get away. “Sorry to leave like this ladies and gents, but we must dash. Ta-ta.” Jodie called, she blew a kiss and trotted off. “See you around, Regina~!” taunted Halanka. Sinmore whirled around, “REGINA’S NOT AROUND! IT’S SINMORE ALMA SORRELL!!! I’LL GET YOU DARCY, I PROMISE YOU!!!” She screamed. The next morning; Sinmore was lying in the bedroom where her legs against the wall. “I almost had her, Horatio. I can’t believe it, I could’ve reached her.” She moaned. “Don’t worry Mistress, you’ll get her next time.” The Corruption in the trenchcoat reassured. “She’s a stubborn brat, she won’t listen to me or anyone else. There’s no way in hell she’ll cooperated so what the hell can I do? Do you have any ideas?” Sinmore said. She didn’t hear Horatio’s respond and looked at him. “Are you listening?” Sinmore asked. “I’m looking at your legs, very shapely and toned.” Horatio said with a modest smile. Sinmore laughed, “Don’t even, Horatio. My legs are always like this since stardom.” She said. There was a knock on the door. “Come in.” Sinmore said. The door opens, and then Sinmore heard Serge let out a low whistle. Sinmore gasped and sat upright, smoothing down her skirt. “Hi, sorry. Didn’t actually see ya, thought…Never mind.” She mumbled. “Do you have a minute?” Free asked. Sinmore nodded, “Um, yeah. What did you need?” She said. “Just…come with us.” Free replied.

Darcy was there with a gun. “Show time.” Serge remarked. “No, I’m in charge of this plan so…” Sinmore started to say. But there was swift motion and saw her bag flying. Sinmore glares at Horatio’s smug look. “Really? Really?!” She exclaimed. Serge chuckled, Free and Marlya are surprised. Klara looked annoyed. “Mistress, just get down there.” Horato said escorting her down there. Sinmore rolled her eyes and giggled as she got her bag but Darcy turns around, startling her. “What do you want?” She snarled. “Just here to get my bag.” Sinmore said. “Don’t play that game, bitch! You came here to find me.” Darcy snapped. The others are shocked by this. Sinmore sighed, she couldn’t believe she was doing this. “I’m taking you with me; it’s pointless to run away.” Sinmore claimed. She puts down her bag and continued to say, “Dorothea is with me, they know you’re here.” Darcy stands up. “What are you going to do? Hurt me? Kill me?” Sinmore asked anxiously. “I don’t have the time to deal with meeting with heroes.” Darcy replied. “What do you mean?” Sinmore asked. But saw Darcy walking away. “Hold on a second, Dorothea wants to help. I told you, I want to help you.” Sinmore claimed but felt a presence against her shoulder. “Not a step closer or else your blood will be all other the place. I can be violent when I’m angry.” Darcy warned. She placed her reliquary back in her pocket while Sinmore shuddered from the near death that she thought was coming. “Stay away…” Darcy uttered and walked away. Sinmore composed herself as she called out: “Stop right there, Dead Eye!” She reached over as Darcy uses her powers within the reliquary that caused Sinmore to be thrown against the wall. “SINMORE!!!” Marlya called. Sinmore coughed up blood and gasped at the sight of it. “I told you not a step closer, you seem like you have it all but in truth, you’re just a pussy.” Darcy taunted. Sinmore looked up with a deadly look on her face, “Pussy?!” She spat. Darcy saw her getting up. “You call  that ambition? I’LL SHOW YOU WHAT AMBITION IS, YOU PUSSY!!!” Sinmore screamed. She summoned Horatio and her Monster Pieces as they attacked Darcy who fell back but saw them approaching along with Sinmore. “You have Corruption? Just like me?” Darcy asked. “I’m not gonna bite you, kitty cat. I would never…but for Regina, I’m gonna teach you a lesson. After all, I can be violent when I’m angry.” Sinmore said, echoing Darcy’s words. “This doesn’t look good.” Free noted. “Should we stop her?” Marlya asked. “Nothing we can do, let her deal with it.” Klara said. “Are you ready to come back with me now? You don’t stand a chance against me, Little Miss Pussy Cat.” Sinmore mocked. “You seem rather comfortable having that abomination of yours.” Darcy quipped. “Ha, I got all dressed up to come get you. But here we go again because you insist on fighting.” Sinmore retorted. 

While Sinmore was facing the other Corruptions; her Fury form resonated. Her eyes popped of blood vessels, tears of blood cascaded down her face and her skin had scars festering and opened. Marlya noticed this as was concerned, “SINMORE!!!” She called. “WHAT?!” Sinmore screamed, she whirled around as her blood tears splashed out. Marlya gasped. Sinmore realized her eyes are bleeding. “Oh god, I must be at my limit….Shit!” She thought. Dafina and Cleo appeared with those smiles. “Scared, are you now? You thought we were in danger. Hmm….poor thing.” Dafina mocked, “Now it’s time to say goodbye.” Just then; Darcy appeared with her reliquary as she shouted: “Light as a feather, stiff as a board!” She froze Dafina and Cleo in place while Darcy screamed: “YOU LIED TO ME!!! You told me you were going to take it easy on them!” She was so mad that her hands balled into fists. “We…were….” Cleo claimed. Her reliquary glowed, Darcy’s eyes were fiery. “SHOT LIKE A ROCKET UP INTO THE SKY, I’M GONNA KILL YOU TONIGHT!!!” She screamed. She fights back at Dafina and Cleo! However; Darcy passed out from the battle, however Dafina took Cleo as they both escape. “You bitches, you get back here!” Sinmore shouted, chasing them. “Sinmore, wait!” Marlya called out. Angry; Sinmore takes her heart out, her eyes popped with blood vessels and a chest wound with teeth around it. Her bodily temple was creating a bloody opening! “COWARDS! LEAVING HER BEHIND LIKE THIAT? YOU REALLY ARE PATHETIC!!!” Sinmore screamed. Dafina used her powers to escape along with her sister Cleo. Sinmore was sitting there with Horatio as she grumbled to herself. “I was so close, Horatio, I could smell Dafina’s sweat. From now on, that bitch gets my undivided attention.” Sinmore said. Horatio shook his head, “How fortunate for Dafina to do this to Darcy.” He remarked. “Oh come on, Horatio! I'm doing this for her.” Sinmore claimed. “I'm sure revenge can be deliciously sweet. However, at the moment, this girl needs a friend. Isn't that what you needed Mistress? A real friend.” Horatio asked. So Sinmore found Darcy looked crestfallen. She sits and talks with her. “Hey Darcy, how are you doing?” Sinmore asked. Darcy wipes her tears away, “Oh~! Fine…” She managed to say. “I’m so sorry for not being around, it’s oh so quiet here.” Sinmore said. “Don’t worry, I kind of like it…here.” Darcy choked out.

“I know it must be very difficult for you, Darcy.” Sinmore said in an apologetic tone of voice. “I wish I could do something more to prevent myself from tragedy. I saw it coming, I knew he drugged the milk!” Darcy claimed through tears in her eyes. “I know. You keep thinking "if only I'd done something differently. If only I could've... gone out". But there isn't anything you could have done. There isn't anything either of us could have done.” Sinmore said, recalling her own memories. “You mean…you and that whole thing with Regina?” Darcy asked. Sinmore nodded with a sad smile. “Does the hurt ever go away?” Darcy inquired. Sinmore turned to her, “I wish I could say yes. But it'll get better in time...For you. That I can promise.” She said. Darcy begins to cry and hugged Sinmore. The next day, Sinmore woke up as she looked for Dead Eye Darcy and find her nowhere while also her stuff is gone. Sinmore was upset by this, she couldn’t believe it. “No….DAMMIT!!! I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS SHIT!!!” Sinmore screamed. Then, she heard footsteps and turns to see Marlya. “You’re up early.” She remarked. “Marlya, oh my God! Did I wake you? I’m so sorry.” Sinmore asked. Marlya shook her head, “No, it’s fine. I just had a bad dream….What’s wrong?” She inquired. Sinmore exhaled a breath and said: “Darcy’s gone.” Marlya looked at her in shock. “What?” She almost raised her voice. “Her belongings, everything. Gone! She’s gone!” Sinmore uttered out despite being angry. “She left?” Marlya asked. But the girls found a note that was meant for Sinmore only and they read it: “Sinmore Sorrell, thank you so much for your comfort. Sorry but I have to go, please don’t follow me. I have to face this alone. Don’t tell Serge Tova or your other chums about this, OK? See you around. –Dead Eye Darcy.” Sinmore and Marlya glanced at each other, they knew this would not end well. Feeling mistrustful while looking around her surroundings; Dead Eye Darcy felt a hand on her shoulder and she takes down the figure as she had her weapon to see Serge. “Serge Tova, I should’ve known.” She remarked. “Feisty as ever, aren’t ya?” Serge teased. 

Darcy glares down at him. “I told you in my letter, don’t follow me.” She said. “It’s dangerous out here.” Serge pointed out. Dead Eye Darcy rolled her eyes, “Persistent bastard…” She muttered then she turned to him and said: “All right, fine. You can walk with me but try to keep up.” Darcy turns away. “Darcy, look at me.” Serge said. Darcy didn’t want to, “Mmm.” She managed to say but she looked at him in the eyes as she felt her face turned even redder at him. “It’s gonna be OK, I promise.” Serge vowed. Dead Eye Darcy’s eyes shined so brightly but pull away by his touch. “Ugh….don’t say it!” She retorted. Serge laughed, “Hey as long as you’re here, I got nothing to lose.” He answered. “Shit! I’m not coming here again.” Dead Eye Darcy exclaimed, running away .“Come on, Cheryl. You’re better than this!” Serge called out. Dead Eye Darcy gasped, “What did you call me?” She asked. “That’s your name isn’t it?”  asked Serge. Darcy looks at him in the eye and said, “Cheryl Radcliffe is dead, it’s Darcy now…Dead Eye Darcy, and I will have my revenge. After all, there is a hole in the world of the great black pit that’s filled with people who are filled with shit. And the vermin of the world inhabited. But not for long.” She grins. However she collapsed to the floor on her knees as she was in distressed. “Damn, I can’t go on alone.” Darcy wept. Serge held out his hand, “Come on, I think you might need some help.” He said. Darcy got up and went with him. “We’re alive, right?” Sybil asked. “Yeah.” Fiachra replied. But he heard her shaky sighs. “Are you crying?” Serge asked. Darcy looks up as she glares at him, “Dummy.” She grumbled. 

The next morning; Sinmore was talking with Marlya, Free, Serge and Klara who mentioned about Ozz. Lauren turns to Anka as she said, “I’m sorry about Oz.” This made Anka sad, “I know…it’s just….I….I felt like it was my fault but…it’s not.” She tried to say. “You weren’t taught about death right, it’s not your fault people died. It’s just things like this happens. And what happened to Ozz was not your fault! Ozz gave up his life to protect you, he was brave in his heroic deed and was killed so…Oh crap!” Sinmore realized what she said. Horatio was terrified. “Oh no!” He thought. “Were you there?” Free asked. “Uh…No! No, I wasn’t…I…Crap! Don’t look at me like that, I wasn’t there! Honest!” Sinmore claimed. “Oh really? What do you know about this unfortunate affair?” Serge asked. Sinmore grinned nervously, “Heh heh, Nothing.” She replied. “Nothing whatever?” Serge dared. Sinmore held her hands up and shook her head, “Nope! Nothing whatever!” She confirmed. “Ah ha…That’s very important! You do know.” Serge teased. It was at this point Sinmore begins to avoid them. But one day, it all change as Marlya and Free confronts her. “Lauren, wait! Did anyone of us hurt you?” Marlya asked. “No, ‘Course not!” Sinmore claimed. “So why are you running away?” Free inquired. “I’m not!” Sinmore shouted. She storms away but she had to calm down. “Don’t use my Fury form, don’t use my Fury form….” Sinmore chanted softly. “Sinmore!” Serge called out. Sinmore gasped, “Ah!” She turns and runs with Serge shouting: “Hold on!” However, Sinmore rushed outside and bends down as she saw blood forming in her eyes from the water’s reflection. “Dammit….I’m at my point!” Sinmore groaned. “Sinmore!” Serge called. He was so close but she jerks away from his touch. “Go away!” Sinmore shouted. “…Sinmore?” Klara asked. “I mean it, please! I don’t want to hurt you.” Sinmore begged. “Sinmore…Come on, let me help you.” Free pleaded. “I said—GET AWAY!!!” Sinmore yelled. Blood drops down from her fingers, her eyes were filled with red and was trembling. Later as Free was being treated; he lied about what happened: A witch was trying to steal food and attacked him. Sinmore found it strange that he didn’t mention the truth. While on a mission with Marlya, Free, Serge and Klara; they managed to retrieve an item and they were chased away but Sinmore and the four of them hide from them. They stayed hidden for awhile. “Are they gone?” Klara asked. “I think, yeah I don’t see anyone.” Sinmore reported. 

“Thank God, I thought they’d never left. My heart was beating fast.” Marlya sighed. “I need to ask this…You really believe a witch did that?” Sinmore asked. “Yes.” Free replied. Sinmore scoffed at that notion. “You’re such a bad liar, you know that was me.” She retorted. “Well…Yeah, it was but I couldn’t tell you. Something was wrong, and you were scared.” Free recalled. “I’m not scared, I mean…I didn’t want to hurt you.” Sinmore replied. “I mean…that counts as scared.” Serge pointed out. Klara gives him a look and he shut up. “God, this is so gut-wrenching for me.” Sinmore mumbled. She opens the window. The hair cascaded in the wind from outside. “Um, remember when that ‘witch’ attacked you?” Sinmore asked. The wind caused the curtains covered as Lauren is shown again. She reveals her heart in her hand as she transforms into a Fury. “It was me. I wanted to tell you for so long.” She said. Marlya, Free, Serge and Klara were stunned but were unsurprised. “All this time, I knew…We knew.” Marlya said. Sinmore is shocked, “Wh—Wha—What?” She uttered. “Don’t be afraid, we haven’t told anyone.” Marlya reassured. “Why? You could’ve exposed me any time now.” Sinmore protested. “I laid down my life for Anka, for anyone here. Even you, it sets us apart.” Free stated. “Oh my God…” Sinmore gasped. Dead Eye Darcy couldn’t believe this; she was shaken by those words. “Sinmore, you don’t have to run anymore. We’ll help you no matter what; keep watch over us….we’ll always have your back.” Free declared. Darcy overheard this and tears streamed down her face. Sinmore smiled, she cried tears of joy. “Don’t cry.” Marlya said. Sinmore shook her head, “I’m OK, crying is natural.” She reassured and wiped her eyes.

#anime crossover #fairy gone #marlya noel #free underbar #serge tova #klara kysenaria

[hamletandthegang]

The Play (PART 1)

“Welcome to Elsinore!” Claudius announced in a booming voice as a group of people walked into the Great Hall. Hamlet sat up a little higher in his seat. He had been slouching behind his mother as they waited for the actors to arrive. And now they stood on the floor of the Great Hall. Eight of them, all lined up. Each had a distinctive appearance, and one (who kinda looked like Jackie from that group of rebels a while ago) waved up at him before being swatted by another (looks like Sebastian has an identical twin, wow that’s crazy). Hamlet marveled at how they resembled the group of rebels that he had run into earlier. How coincidental is that?

Claudius was still talking, but Hamlet had spaced out, a common occurrence as nothing he ever said held any weight. “...and we are patiently looking forward to your performance tomorrow! I’ll have my servants show you to your room, and I hope you’ll enjoy your stay here in the palace.” Claudius finished with a triumphant huff and sat down. Gertrude patted his arm and began to talk to him, giving Hamlet an opportunity to slip down the steps. He caught up with the troupe before they were led away down the hallway, and pulled their leader aside. The leader was a tall, African lady with long pink braids in her hair. She resembled the Norwegian monarchs in a way, but Hamlet waved the thought aside.

“Excuse me, but I was wondering if I could request a certain play for the performance tomorrow night?” Hamlet asked.

The woman nodded, and the rest of the troupe immediately surrounded the two of them. “That would be greatly appreciated, sir,” She said with an inviting smile. “What would you suggest?”

“Do you happen to know The Murder of Gonzago by any chance? It’s a personal favorite in the castle, and I’m sure the King would enjoy it.”

“Yes! We know that one, in fact I-” One of the troupe started to shout, but was silenced by another.

The leader responded, “That sounds fantastic. Thank you for the suggestion. We’ll get to work right away.” And the group began to walk down the hall again.

Hamlet smiled. This was all going perfectly. He turned to see his friends standing nearby.

“Yo! Who was that!?” Rosencrantz immediately whispered through his teeth. He was bright red in the face. Hamlet had never seen him like that before.

“Uh, I guess the group leader? Are you okay…?” Hamlet trailed off as Rosencrantz ran back towards Guildenstern and signed something quickly before Hamlet could tell what it was. Guildenstern nodded, and laughed.

“Okay then.” Hamlet walked over to Ophelia and Horatio. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s a decent plan-” Horatio interrupted Ophelia before she could finish.

“Hamlet we have to get them out of here!”

“What? Why?”

“Why? Did you not see who they were?” Horatio looked at him.

“Nooo?” Hamlet smiled confusedly.

Horatio put a hand on his face. “Dude, they’re those creeps that were in the warehouse!”

“The Rebels? No way!”

“Uh, yeah way. They literally look the exact same. How- how did you not know that?”

“Horatio, I think you might be confused. They looked nothing like them!”

“Yeah, Horatio. I don’t really see it.” Ophelia chimed in.

Horatio looked like he was going to have an aneurism. But Rosencrantz and Guildenstern burst into loud laughter, and Hamlet turned to talk to them.

“Rosencrantz, you good?”

“I think someone has a crush!” Guildenstern signed to Hamlet, and Rosencrantz playfully swatted him.

Hamlet laughed, and signed to Guildenstern, “Are you okay?”

Guildenstern signed back, “Oh, I’m fine. I just feel really tired today.”

“Alright, that’s chill.” Hamlet responded, and they kept talking (or signing as the case may be).

Guildenstern had a cochlear implant, because he was mostly deaf, and had been since childhood. He had gotten the implants a few years ago, and now he was perfectly able to go about life, except for sometimes when he got really tired he would just want to sign instead. Everyone in their group had learned sign language for him, and was fluent enough to hold conversations.

They were interrupted when Polonius came towards them.

“So, I see you are still around? I thought you would be going back to college by now.” He was addressing Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, and narrowed his eyes at them sternly.

“Well, we decided to stay a little longer to be able to hang out with our friends. We are planning to return in a week or two. So then we’ll be out of your hair and you won’t have to worry about us being here anymore.” Rosencrantz said, not even trying to keep the tone of his voice steady.

“That sounds great.” Polonius looked at Guildenstern. “Maybe then we can get back to our normal lives, without having to accommodate everyone's needs.” Polonius pursed his lips and walked over to talk to Ophelia. Guildenstern flipped him off the moment his back was turned.

“Fucking bastard,” Rosencrantz mumbled, and gave Guildenstern a hug.

After Polonius had walked away, Ophelia immediately ran over to Guildenstern. “God, I’m so so sorry about him. Please don’t listen to what he says.”

“It’s okay,” Guildenstern waved it off with a smile. “Don’t worry about it.”

Ophelia and Rosencrantz exchanged a look. The group decided they were hungry and went off to the kitchen to eat lunch.

#hey guys guess what we’re alive #updates may be kinda sporadic bc schedules are wack rn sry #mod h 😉 #hamlet #the rebels #imma just start saying that now lol #horatio #ophelia #rosencrantz #guildenstern #oc annalise #polonius #hamlet&co fics #hatg1

[depootpattyrook-a]

Free.

Description: With just one shot, she was free and she has much to atone for. Starting with her family. The Deputy was back....and another chapter is opening. 

Be sure to reblog!

@red-king-4 @oh-the-bliss @lovely-murderous-innerbeast @max-amber @masterhuntressjessblack

There is only the justice of Gods hand. End this vicious cycle....Give me God’s justice.....Release me.....

And with that one fatal shot to the chest, it was finished before the former Deputy’s eyes and it was a relief. Joseph Seed was gone and slain by the hands of her niece who is wearing her old outfit from before, karma at its finest. The body of the cult leader falls on the ground as Patty knows the spirits of Whitehorse, Hudson, and Pratt alongside every other victim of Project At Eden’s Gate can rest easy now....it was all over. The former Judge looks at the burning tree with her niece then kneels in front of Joseph with tears in her eyes knowing it was all over....she was free.

Max sadly looks at the supposed shell of her former shell of her aunt seeing that she’s far too gone now but those tears weren’t for Joseph, they were tears of victory and she was victorious indeed. It was only for a few seconds before the deputy gets up and leave the burning tree of Eden while heading down never looking back as Max looks back then looks ahead and walks with her aunt. It was a silent trek down with Max not knowing what’s going through her head assuming it’s sadness but it was more like resisting the urge to dance....

The bar at Roughneck Craig is packed of the Guns For Hire as Max Caulfield sits on a stool drinking some scotch. Her head still hurts from all of the outpost liberating, expeditions, and so much more because of her powers. But it was a victory after all, a Pyrrhic victory at that. New Eden is in ashes with many homeless but are finding homes in Prosperity, the Highwaymen still at large but no longer a threat, yet her aunt is still stuck in the prison that is her mind plus Max has gotta get back to California or send a message telling them what happened to Rush. She wishes pastor Jerome was here so she can talk to him but he’s gone doing a prayer service with the New Edeners. Carmina sits beside Max causing her to turn around.

“Something the matter? You haven’t talked since you got here. Don’t try to hide it, there’s lots of smiles in this place and you stand out among them.” Carmina spoke grabbing Max’s attention. She could always just rewind again but she had to be honest with herself and Max is always open to her emotions. The Irish-American sighs to Carmina....

“I know we should be happy and all. We’ve been through so much....yet this doesn’t feel like a victory. Everything is over and done with....yet it feels hallow.” Max replied to Carmina while taking a sip.

“I know what you’re thinking of: The Judge. Listen, I know she’s been through a lot and you thought slaying Joseph Seed would work. It takes time to recover, to heal. I’m sure she’ll get around.” Carmina advised while Max lowers her eyes looking at the reflection at herself in the glass.

“The last time I spoke to her was when I was thirteen years old and she yelled at me.” To that comment, Carmina Rye loaded her assault rifle.

“Excuse me, I’m gonna find her.” Carmina bluntly announced but Max gently grabs her shoulder and pushes her back to her seat.

“It was justified. Very justified....A friend who would turn out to be my wife’s father died, she was broken and I left her in the middle of it. Patty was waiting in Seattle to help us unpack with her friends Pratt and Hudson, she talked to me in private....and I told her everything. An argument broke out between my mom, dad, and I got wrapped in it....she called us cowards saying that we abandoned her and her mom with my mom slapping her in the process while her friends held her back then telling her to leave. I started crying not because she was being mean....but she was right....” Max begins to tear up with her face turning red.

“I abandoned my friend and when I returned, it was the greatest weeks of my life to the point I married her. But she wasn’t there....maybe she hated me and cut off all ties with the family. She did shoot me a letter with a congratulations text on a card before going to do a raid on Seed. I just didn’t know....she would here....I thought she died in the Collapse.....but it turns out I was wrong....and I don’t know if I have the courage to talk to her.....” She begins to sob while Carmina’s eyes widen in confusion then lower in understanding then hugs the crying captain. Nana peers through the entrance upon hearing what happened while adjusting her glasses alongside Gina, Timber, Horatio and Hurk.

“Hey Max, I just wanna know: We’re with you.” Gina assured while Timber cuddles against her leg alongside Horatio.

Pastor Jerome places a cross on what used to be the settlement known as New Eden while the remaining residents stand beside him singing Amazing Grace as he walks to find some bodies to bury. This was his new flock after all and they needed him the most right now....he stops at the Judge’s house hoping she’d be there. The house is full of essentials like a fireplace she made for herself and table....yet something catches his eyes: A broken bow on the ground. He tilts his head at the sight but even more is a broken mask. Jerome kneels and touches the remains for a moment before realizing what this means....he shakes his head while smiling.

“......Welcome back Deputy.” He whispered.

Max fires her silenced SA-50 sniper rifle at the target with Nana who smiles at the pseudo-deputy who has taken her aunt’s place. Gina on the other hand is busy smoking but spots someone walking up to them, it’s a woman with grey-ish black hair with a pony tail wearing an alley rat jacket and pants from that stolen suit Max got from that crashed paladin. On her back is a sniper rifle just like Max except it’s an MB-50. Gina has never seen this woman before and she looks like trouble.

“What do you want?” Gina asks the woman who looks around while she smiles. That goofy smirk of hers reminds her of Hurk for a moment alongside an aura of familiarity....The woman leans over behind Gina then places her hands on her hips.

“I see Hurk chose wisely just like I did. Maybe it’s because we’re into the bad girls ya’know?” She said causing Gina to grip her machine but realizes she knows Hurk from out of nowhere. Gina remembers how Hurk and the Deputy aka Patty would hangout with a hooded chick named Jess Black all the time and implied to have had sex.

“Wait a minute....you’re.....” Hurk walks from behind carrying a glass of scotch but pauses for a moment before having a mischievous smile on his face before turning to Max who is reloading for a moment.

“Hey Max, you gotta visitor. Said she knows you! A lot!” The redneck called causing Max to turn around. The brunette walks over while the black haired woman crosses her arms and smiles at her causing Max to pause for a moment. She walks in front of her and stops....

“Annnnd.....hug. Like seriously, hug it out now.” Hurk implored while Nana looks at Hurk confused but realizes who it is.

“If you two don’t hug then I swear I’ll glue you both together!” Nana chimed before Max grabs her and holds her close with tears in her eyes. The black haired woman is caught off guard for a moment then returns the hug and smiles....

“Welcome back, aunt Patty....” Max croaked before Patty shushes her and caresses the back of her hair.

“Hey it’s okay, it’s okay. I was always here, I waited for the right time otherwise the Highwaymen would find out....but I’m here. Always was and always will be.” Patty assured while holding her tight and sniffs. Walking behind her is a blonde woman with grey streaks and a worn out jacket and bow on her back.

“Oh damn Jess Black! Out of nowhere!” Hurk saw causing Jess to roll her eyes for a moment.

“It’s Jess Caulfield now. I’ll explain it later but for now, let’s enjoy the moment.” Jess sighed looking at her fiance and her niece-in-law. Jerome arrives on his sidecar and walks up the hill to the bar and opens his mouth with the intent to find out where the Judge is but standing before him wasn’t the Judge. He closes his mouth knowing the Judge was gone and standing before him is the Deputy who saved their town years ago with the only family she has left.....

And she was free.

#far cry #far cry new dawn #hurk drubman jr #nana #oc #crossover #max caulfield #gina guerra