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xreaderxo · 4 years

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My Moon

Zuko x reader

Soulmate AU

genre: angst but with a good ending

warning: death, sickness

summary: Every Fire Nation citizen gets a tattoo on their wrist when they turn sixteen. This tattoo shows the first words your soulmate will say to you. Some people find this person immediately, and spend the rest of their lives together. Some people never get the chance.

"Why do you keep that ribbon on your wrist?"

Zuko clenched his fists by his sides, exhaling a breath of fire in frustration. Sozin's Comet was in three days, and this was the fourth time Aang has stopped training to ask a question that had nothing to do with firebending.

"Aang," Zuko said impatiently, "Stop avoiding training."

"But I want to know!" Aang clasped his hands together. "That's where your soulmate's first words are, right? Why are they covered?"

Zuko groaned. "Because I don't have time for a soulmate. I was too focused on finding you, and now I need to focus on defeating my father."

"So you've never looked at it!?" Aang's eyes widened before he lunged forward. "Let me see! Let me see!"

"Wha- Aang!" Zuko yelled, trying to pry the airbender off of him as he stretched his right arm out of his reach. "Get off!"

"I want to know what your words are!"

"Why are you interested in my love life!?"

"Because I would kill to have what you have and you don't appreciate it!"

"Don't appreciate what?" Sokka asked, popping a grape into his mouth as he walked up to the hill where the two were sparring.

"Sokka!" Aang shouted. "Take Zuko's ribbon off!"

"Ooh, I love annoying Zuko!" Sokka said gleefully, grabbing Zuko's wrist and ripping the black fabric off. "Uh, why am I annoying Zuko?"

"Because Zuko's never looked at his soulmate tattoo!" Aang snatched a frozen Zuko's wrist and read it. "I want the last thing I see to be the moon," he read.

"Poetic." Sokka nodded approvingly. "I like them already, they like staring at my first girlfriend!"

Zuko blinked. "Wait, hold on- your first girlfriend actually turned into the moon? Like literally?"

That was a year ago. Zuko was Fire Lord now. Currently, he was headed to a secluded cliff he had found the day before to meditate. There was a sickness going around, and although it wasn't contagious, Iroh hadn't wanted him to be in a populated area. So, he was going to be alone away from other people.

Or so he thought.

He halted as he entered the clearing to the cliff. There was a person- you -lying down in the grass, staring at the moon. Remembering his tattoo, a spark of hope lit in his chest. He was Fire Lord. The war was over. It would be safe to fall in love. Maybe this was his soul mate.

His hope quickly turned to dread as he got closer. They had the sickness. Judging from their skin and frailty, they probably didn't even have an hour left.

Still, even if they aren't his soulmate, Zuko wasn't about to let anybody die alone.

"Uh, it's pretty cold out," he said as he got closer, and visibly winced. It wasn't cold. It was the middle of summer in the Fire Nation.

You shrugged, not having the strength to sit up to see who your soulmate was.. "I want the last thing I see to be the moon."

Zuko's breath hitched. "No," he whispered.

You chuckled bitterly. "We finally meet, and I'll be dead by morning. Sounds about right." you paused. "You can go, if you want. I don't want you to have to see this."

"I'm not letting my soulmate die alone," Zuko said determinedly, his legs shaking, and laid down beside you. You looked at him, and raised your eyebrows in shock as you recognized him.

"Well, look at that! If I hadn't gotten this cough, I would've been the queen!" you joked. "Nice to meet you, Fire Lord. I'm Y/N."

Y/N. It was the most beautiful word Zuko had ever heard.

"Just call me Zuko," he replied, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You two laid there for a few minutes, drinking in each other's appearances. You knew he was handsome, as you'd seen his face plastered all over the Fire Nation for years. First listed as a traitor and most recently, Fire Lord. He was even more handsome up close. His amber eyes had flecks of fire orange in them. And his scar? You thought that it was the most handsome part of all. It showed he'd been through something terrible, and overcame it.

Zuko couldn't believe someone so beautiful could exist. You were gorgeous. Stunning. Even in your frail state, your complexion blemished from the sickness, your cheekbones jutting out sharply, Zuko had never seen anything so divine.

"Y/N?" he whispered, his eyes locked with yours.

"Yes, Zuko?"

He gulped, bringing his other hand to cup your cheek and resting his forehead on yours. "Tell me everything about you."

And so you did.

You told him your childhood. You told him about the first time you broke a bone. You told him how you felt when your father died. You told him that your favorite food is Roast Duck. You told him that you always planned on naming your daughter Izumi. You told him how you donated everything you owned to the Ursa Medical Center that Zuko had recently set up. You told him how excited you were whenever you heard that the Avatar had returned, because finally there would be peace.

"I was so happy that it was you who became Fire Lord and not somebody else." You had your head on his chest at this point, his legs tangled with yours.

"Why?" Zuko's fingers were running through your sweat-soaked hair, the wetness not registering.

"Because," you hummed, "You betrayed the Fire Nation to help the Avatar. You were willing to leave everything you'd ever known to bring peace." you paused, tilting your chin so you could look at him. "Plus, you're pretty cute, too."

Zuko blushed as the corners of his mouth turned upwards. "You think I'm cute? Have you seen yourself?"

You chuckled weakly. "Yeah, I'm a real dime piece right now." Zuko's hand stilled. He leaned up on one elbow so he could look down on you.

"Y/N," he said seriously, "You are incandescently beautiful. You are oh so pulchritudinous. You are the most stunning of all of God's creations."

You smiled at him. If your body could produce enough water for it, tears would be running down your face. "Thank you," you whispered. As Zuko laid back down, you spoke again. "Now, tell me everything about you."

So he did. He told you about his mother. He told you about being banished. He told you how it was trying to capture the Avatar. He told you about his time in Ba Sing Se. He told you about his uncle. He told you about being friends with the Avatar, and joining their group. He told you what it was like to face Azula. He told you about how Aang and Sokka had ripped off the ribbon, which you both shared a laugh at.

He sighed. "I wish we had more time," he choked out. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I know I just met you, but I can't imagine living without you."

"Well, that's the thing about soulmates," you replied, running your hand through his hair and bringing his head down to yours until your lips were centimetres apart. "We'll never truly be apart."

And then Zuko was kissing you. He was kissing your lips and your nose and your cheeks and your forehead and your eyebrows and back to your lips. He was kissing you as though he thought that if he kissed you enough, he could save you. He was kissing you as if it would be the last kiss you would ever share, which was likely.

You were the one to break the kiss, as you were losing breath. You could feel it coming, and Zuko could, too. "I- I don't know what to do," he whimpered, holding you closer. "We've only known each other for an hour. We should be able to have a life together, to grow old together. It isn't fair!"

"Shh, Zuko," you hummed into the hollow of his neck. "We'll see each other again, my love. And whenever you miss me, just look at the moon. This," you pulled back and gestured to the moon above, "Is our moon. Forever." You laid your head back on his chest, and your voice was barely above a whisper when you next spoke. "Can you sing me to sleep?"

Zuko's heart was breaking, but he couldn't say no. "Of course," he hiccuped, choking back a sob, before he began singing a song his mother used to sing him.

“Deep in the meadow, under the willow A bed of grass, a soft green pillow Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes And when again they open, the sun will rise.

Here it's safe, here it's warm Here the daisies guard you from every harm Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true Here is the place where I love you.

Deep in the meadow, hidden far away A cloak of leaves, A moonbeam ray, Forget your woes and let your troubles lay And when again it's morning, they'll wash away.

Here it's safe, here it's warm Here the daisies guard you from every harm Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true Here is the place where I love you.”

As he finished the song, his heart stopped. You weren't breathing. Agony, the worst pain he’d ever felt, ripped through his chest. An inhuman scream erupted from his throat as he pulled your body into him, his tears falling. He'd just met you, and yet you had become his world. And you were gone.

He stayed there the entire night until Iroh found him the next morning, still clutching your ice-cold corpse. Iroh's heart snapped, immediately knowing what must have happened. It took hours to pry Zuko away from you. He spent the next week crying into Iroh's shoulder. "I don't think she heard me tell her I love her, Uncle," he sputtered before another sob wracked his shoulders.

"She knew," Iroh assured him. "I promise. She knew."

He arranged a funeral for you that was fit for a Fire Queen, and had you buried on the cliff where you had met.

Fire Lord Zuko's reign lasted sixty-seven years. After much pressure from his advisors about an heir, he did end up taking a wife. Her name was Mikoto, from a noble Fire Nation family. Her soulmate had died as well, so it was a perfect fit. They both knew they could never love another, but they were best friends.

They had a daughter, who Zuko named Izumi. He was still alive whenever she took over as Fire Lord, and he'd never been more proud of anything or anyone.

And yet, he still missed you. He thought about you every day, and every night he would sit and stare at the moon. Sometimes he would cry, thinking about what could have been. Other times he would be happy, telling you about Izumi's accomplishments. He would always sleep with the window open, so that the last thing he saw before he went to sleep was your moon.

He died at the age of one hundred in his sleep, his face still turned towards the moon.

Zuko's eyes opened to find himself in the Spirit World face to face with Iroh himself.

"Uncle!" he cried, wrapping him into a hug.

"Hello, Zuko!" Iroh said with a smile. "It's nice to see you again!"

"Hey Sifu Hotman, you better give me a hug, too!" Zuko whirled around to see Aang, and his smile widened as he jumped into the Avatar's arms. Stepping back, Zuko noticed that Aang was a lot older than he was.

"Why am I seventeen again?" he asked.

"For the same reason that I am twenty-five," Iroh explained, "The age I was when my son was born. Here, you remain the age you were when you were at your happiest."

"I was happiest when I was twenty-one, when Katara and I got married," Aang explained. "You're seventeen because that's how old you were when you met them."

Zuko froze as he heard footsteps behind him, before whirling around.

"Hello, My Love," you said. You were healthy and in a beautiful red gown. Zuko's breath hitched, his eyes filling with tears. He ran forward to envelop you in a hug.

"I've missed you, too," you chuckled as he peppered your face with kisses. The two of you stared at one another, soaking in each other's appearances yet again. He rested his forehead against yours.

"We can finally spend forever together," he said in what was meant to be a whisper, but he was so elated that it came out as a yell.

"I can't wait," you replied in the same tone.

"I love you." The words Zuko had been wanting to tell you finally left his lips.

"I know," you answered, cupping his cheeks with your hands. "I love you, too."

As the two of you shared another kiss, the full moon above seemed to shine a little brighter.

#zuko x reader #zuko #prince zuko #zuko imagine #soulmate au #fire lord zuko #atla #a:tla #atla imagine #sokka #iroh #aang #soulmate zuko

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alphadaddyderek · 3 years

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Dude, just get out! (we both live here dumbass!) (sterek fic, smut, college au)

Stiles was initially excited to go to college. The freedom aspect of it in particular is what Stiles was the most excited about. Don’t get him wrong, he loves his dad, of course, he does. He didn’t mind living with him, he liked seeing him on a daily basis. He’s all Stiles has. Well, Stiles has Scott, but Scott is attending university in Arizona of all places. Meanwhile, Stiles is going to NYU, so, there’s not a lot of opportunities to see Scott or his father in person.

Not to fret though! Stiles was ready like Freddy to meet new people and, hopefully, make new friends along the way. That’s what college is all about. Supposedly, Stiles wouldn’t know but if all the movies are to be believed then that’s what college is all about.

He and his dad spent days driving up to NYU and then spent hours moving Stiles’ belongings into his off-campus apartment and unpacking. Stiles got a full-ride —thank god— so there’s extra money for him to be able to live in an actual, nice apartment instead of the dorms. His roommate was nowhere to be seen at the time, but that was fine with Stiles. He’d have plenty of opportunities to get to know him. Stiles’ dad left to stay in a hotel for the night because there was no way he was starting the trek back to Beacon Hills this late in the day. So, Stiles was left to his own devices in his new apartment.

Well, he was for about twenty minutes, then his roommate came back and...he’s kind of a dick.

He has a resting bitch face and he hardly likes to talk. Stiles doesn’t know if it’s because the guy doesn’t like him or if he’s just the quiet type. He’s starting to think that the guy doesn’t like him because every time Stiles starts talking he looks annoyed. The dick’s name is Derek and coincidentally, he also goes to NYU. He did tell Stiles his major, but wouldn’t tell Stiles what his favorite color was, which is just plain rude.

Anyway, Stiles isn’t going to let this Debbie downer ruin his college experience, no way!

Stiles decides the best thing to do is to just ignore him. Which is hard to do because the guy takes up so much space, like, he’s actually huge. And he always seems to be in the apartment when Stiles comes back from classes. Which is weird because, dude, don’t you have classes to go to? Nonetheless, he’s always there which means Stiles has to see him all the time and Derek can continue being an asswipe for no reason.

For example, Stiles sometimes forgets to wash the dishes —sue him!— and Derek will chew him out for it. Stiles didn’t know Derek was such a neat freak, but now that he knows he’ll leave more things laying around because Stiles can also be a dick when he wants to be. Maybe Derek should learn to be more personable, then Stiles wouldn’t have to go out of his character by doing such petty things. They’ve only been living together for about a week and a half and there’s already a turf battle going on. Stiles isn’t sure who’s going to win this battle, however, the sight of Derek tripping over one of Stiles’ shoes and the subsequent curse that flies out of his mouth makes Stiles not even care in the end.

--------------

After about a month, it's way more than just a battle. The turf battle has evolved into a war and now, no one is safe.

Derek continues being yucky and Stiles continues to do things to intentionally annoy him, except, now Derek is doing things to annoy Stiles. Like, eating all of Stiles’ Pop-Tarts or, and this is a cruel one, flushing the toilet while Stiles is in the shower. Unfortunately for Stiles, Derek buys gross ass healthy food for himself, and Stiles couldn’t choke down that food to save his life. So, what can one do to even the playing field?

Derek is sitting on the couch in the living room, watching some show about underwater caves. Stiles normally wouldn’t stick around because, despite what Derek might think, Stiles really doesn’t enjoy being talked down to by an abnormally grumpy man. This time though, Stiles sits down beside him. He can see Derek watching him from the corner of his eye, probably waiting to see what Stiles is going to do. Stiles likes to instill fear in Derek. Normally he acts like Stiles is nothing more than a bug he wants to squish under his overly expensive boot, but now? He’s worried. He should be. Stiles is going to pull out his ultimate weapon.

“So, whatcha watchin’?” Stiles asks, plastering a smile onto his face.

Derek gives him a suspicious look. “Why do you want to know?”

Stiles shrugs, smile still present. “I’m curious. This show seems interesting.”

Derek gives him an incredulous eyebrow raise, which is super insulting. Derek thinks all Stiles watches is Harry Potter, Star Wars, and superhero movies. Which is just wrong. But that’s okay. Stiles thinks all Derek watches are documentaries about how to be a functioning human in society, which, newsflash Derek, still needs working on.

A few minutes go by before Stiles decides to speak again. “So, you haven’t told me about your family.”

“That’s intentional.”

Stiles laughs. Derek thinks he can scare Stiles into leaving him alone. Unfortunately for Derek, Stiles has zero self-preservation skills.

“Come on Derek. We’re roommates. Don’t you want us to get along?”

Derek didn’t dignify that with a response —rude!— so Stiles speaks again.

“My dad is the sheriff of my hometown. Been that way for as long as I can remember. My best friend, his name is Scott, wants to be a vet. He goes to The University of Arizona. After that he’s not sure where he’ll go to get his DVM but he’s open to anything.”

Derek turns the volume up on the tv and Stiles bites his lip to stifle his laughter.

Ah, Derek. That won’t help.

“At first I was kinda skeptical about Scott becoming a vet. I mean, he’s a puppy himself, and I love him to death, but sometimes he’s ditzy. He’s a ditzy brunette. But after working at Deaton’s, Deaton is the town vet, for years he’s proved me wrong,” Stiles risks a glance at Derek and he’s scowling so hard Stiles is kind of afraid it’ll get stuck that way forever. “He and his girlfriend, Allison, are kind of having issues with long-distance but they’re high school sweethearts so I’m confident that they’ll work through it. They’re so cute together that it’s actually kinda nauseating. Like, sometimes their sappiness makes me sick to my stomach. I wonder when they’ll get ma-”

Derek abruptly stands up and walks out the room, slamming and locking his bedroom door, as if Stiles is the boogeyman who he’s trying to keep out.

Stiles snickers and grabs the remote to change the channel. Derek gets annoyed when Stiles talks, well, he shouldn’t have started this war then (it doesn’t matter that technically Stiles started it). Stiles has weaponized his ability to talk people’s ears off. So, Derek better watch out.

Hopefully, Derek won’t murder Stiles in his sleep.

--------------

Okay, so, Stiles thinks maybe this whole turf war thing is getting out of hand.

It’s been a total of 3 and a half months since they’ve been living together and Derek and Stiles are on edge around each other 24/7. Stiles has to shower around eleven o’clock at night so that Derek won’t burn him alive by flushing the toilet. Derek doesn’t have access to Stiles’ snacks anymore because Stiles hid them in the back of his closet. Derek stays in his room all day just so that Stiles won't have any opportunities to talk to him. They’re at an impasse, but Stiles has a feeling that the worst has yet to come.

A really bad feeling.

Stiles comes back from a particularly grueling day of classes to see Derek sitting on the couch...and he’s smirking.

That doesn’t bode well for Stiles.

“Hello, Stiles.”

“Uh, hey dude. Why do you look like a supervillain?”

“‘Cause I have a surprise for you.”

Yeah, that definitely didn’t sound good.

“Actually, I am a-okay. I really don’t need the surprise. I appreciate it though,” Stiles tries to make his way towards his room but Derek keeps talking.

“I normally don’t snoop through people’s things, it’s really not in my character, but after you left to go out last night, I heard some weird noises coming from your room. I was trying to ignore it at first, but after a while I went to see what it was. I was going to mention it this morning but you woke up before I did and by the time I had woken up you were already in class.”

Stiles had stopped in his tracks but he still hasn’t turned around to face Derek, because if Derek is going where Stiles thinks he’s going, Stiles is going to need to be able to book it into his bedroom as soon as possible.

Derek didn’t seem too perturbed by Stiles’ silence since he continues with his story. “Imagine my surprise when I found out that it was your laptop making that noise. Now, I wasn’t surprised by the fact that porn was playing, but what I was surprised at-”

Oh god.

“-was that the video you were watching was titled ‘bear fucks twink with huge cock’. And now I can’t help but question your hatred towards me.”

Stiles’ face is burning. He’s never been so embarrassed in his life, which is really a great feat because Stiles doesn’t get embarrassed by much. It’s not that Stiles didn’t notice Derek was hot, like, come on now, Derek is gorgeous. He’s not that much taller than Stiles but the size of his biceps? They’re easily the size of Stiles’ thigh. Derek is bigger than Stiles in every aspect.

Well, he’s not sure about every aspect. Stiles has never seen Derek’s dick outright, but he’s seen him wear sweatpants, and ooh boy, that bulge gives Stiles the impression that Derek is hung like a horse.

Stiles still hates Derek because Derek still has his asshole-ish ways. Case in point: right the fuck now. But, you can hate someone and still want to fuck them, right? Hate sex exists.

Derek is patiently waiting for Stiles to respond, and Stiles has never been good at staying silent, so it’s only a matter of time.

Stiles finally turns around to face Derek and clears his throat. “That- that means nothing. People watch shit like that all the time. Plus, you hardly qualify as a bear.”

It’s a weak excuse but, hey, Stiles is grasping at straws here.

Derek tilts his head to the side in agreement. “True, but if that was the case, why do you seem so nervous?”

Stiles can’t think of a reasonable response in time and Derek knows it.

Derek smirks again and Stiles really wants to knee him in the dick.

“Do you wanna fuck me?”

Stiles narrows his eyes at Derek. What the fuck is his endgame here? Why is he being such a dick?

Oh yeah, because Derek is a fucking asshole.

“Fine,” Stiles says through gritted teeth. “I find you attractive. I watch porn about big, hairy men fucking twinks because I want you to fuck me. Are you happy now? Jackass.”

Stiles storms into his room and slams the door. That’s a perfect example of why people can’t be pretty and nice. It’s genetically impossible.

Stiles lets out a sigh and dumps his backpack on his bed before stripping out of his clothes and getting into the shower. He stands under the spray for ten minutes, just praying to the cosmic gods out there that a black hole will appear and suck the whole human race into nothingness. After waiting for a few more minutes, and his prayers going unanswered, he washes himself then gets out to dry off. He wraps the towel around his waist and opens the door to find Derek standing outside his bathroom door. He shrieks (a very manly shriek by the way) and covers his chest with his arms, not that that’ll hide much.

“Derek, what the fuck are you doing?”

Derek’s eyes do the slowest sweep in fucking existence down Stiles’ body and Stiles feels his cheeks flush. Ugh, why are the cutest guys always assholes?

“I came to apologize. I was being a dick-”

“What else is new?” Stiles interrupts. Stiles is rewarded with another smirk.

“-and I took it too far. I’m sorry I embarrassed you.”

Stiles looks at Derek for a second. They’ve never apologized to each other when they did shit, and even though Stiles didn’t take it as far as Derek did, Stiles can’t stand here and act like he wasn’t also an asshole.

Stiles sighs. “I’m sorry too. I was also kind of a dick. Not as much as you, but still.”

Derek laughs a little, and Jesus H. Christ, how is a laugh sexy? “Apology accepted.”

Stiles holds his hand out for a handshake. Derek puts his hand in Stiles’ and they shake on their newfound not-friendship-but-also-maybe-not-complete-dicks-to-each-other-ship.

“So,” Derek starts after they drop their hands. “wanna have sex?”

Stiles might’ve actually choked on his own fucking spit, because what?

“What?”

“I asked if you wanted to have sex.”

“Where is this even coming from? You hate my guts. Every time I talk you look like you’re going in for a root canal.”

Stiles is so confused, he’s also getting hornier by the minute, but right now, the confusion is outweighing the horniness.

“I don’t hate you. Yeah you talk a lot, and it was so annoying at first, sometimes it still is, but I got used to your incessant chatter.”

Stiles knows he looks dumb, his mouth is gaping and everything. “I think maybe there was something in the water because I must be high. We’ve lived together for over 3 months and you’re telling me that you actually want to have sex with me?”

Derek shrugs. “Yeah. Just because you can be kinda annoying that doesn’t mean you’re not cute. Plus, people have sex all the time, that doesn’t mean we have to, like, date or whatever.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. Derek’s so romantic, how has Stiles been able to resist jumping his bones for this long?

“You just embarrassed the hell out of me, why would I ever want to have sex with you?” Never mind the fact that Stiles definitely does want to have sex with him.

“Maybe you don’t. If not, then fine. We can just go back to how things were. If you do, then we’ll have a great time.”

Stiles is still struggling to wrap his mind around all of this. Derek wants to have sex with him? In what universe does that make sense?

Apparently in this one.

Stiles does this sort of shrug that basically portrays well, what the fuck? Okay then. “Okay. I guess this is happening then.”

Derek smirks for like the fiftieth time in thirty seconds and if Stiles was a stronger man he definitely would’ve kneed Derek in the dick, but clearly, Stiles is weak.

Very, very weak.

“My room or yours?” Derek asks.

“Mine. Since it’s right there,” Stiles points behind Derek and, lo and behold, there’s Stiles’ bed.

Grabbing Stiles’ hand in a surprisingly gentle gesture, Derek walks the three feet from the bathroom to the bed to lay Stiles down.

Derek gets on top of the bed and is sitting on his knees by Stiles’ feet. He pulls his shirt off like he’s in Magic Mike or something before throwing it onto the floor without a care in the world. Jesus, it’s like his muscles have muscles. Stiles starts feeling a little insecure about his body. He’s got muscles, but, he’s not, like, ripped like Derek is. Stiles likes to think he has somewhat of a swimmer’s body.

Looming over him like a fucking creeper, Derek stares down at Stiles. “You know, you’re very pretty.”

Stiles refuses to admit that he blushes at that because he’s not pretty. If anything he’s handsome, some may even say gorgeous.

“Can you just get on with it?” Stiles throwing a scowl in Derek’s direction.

“Bossy. I kinda like that,” he strips his sweatpants off and throws them down too. Now he’s only in a pair of gray boxer briefs and, god, Stiles wants to suck his dick so badly. Which is weird because he’s really not all that experienced with blowjobs, he’s given maybe two blowjobs in his life. Whatever, Derek has a great dick okay?

Derek tugs at the towel around Stiles’ waist. “Is this okay?”

Stiles nods and then the towel is gone, and Stiles is laid bare for Derek to gaze at his leisure. And boy does Derek gaze. He does another slow sweep down Stiles’ body, except this time it’s even more intense because now Stiles is naked.

“You’re not a virgin right?” Derek asks while rummaging through Stiles’ bedside drawer and pulling out the lube. First of all, it’s rude to go through people’s stuff! Second of all, how the hell did Derek know his lube was there? Although, where else would lube be?

“Nope. There will be no deflowering of the Stiles today. Sorry to disappoint.”

Derek shrugs before popping open the lube. “I’m not one of those weirdos who pops a boner at the thought of popping someone’s cherry.”

Stiles chuckles, like actually chuckles. Who knew Derek was even capable of being funny?

Stiles pulls his legs up and hooks his hands behind his knees. The position exposes Stiles’ hole to the extreme and it makes Stiles blush. Just because he’s not a virgin doesn’t mean that he doesn’t get nervous or embarrassed during sex.

Derek knee-walks closer to Stiles and squirts some lube onto his fingers. He puts one hand on Stiles’ right thigh while the other one gently and slowly breaches his entrance. Fuck, his fingers are thick. Thicker than Stiles’ that’s for sure. Stiles definitely isn’t shy about fingering. He fingers himself all the time, but it’s been a while since someone else’s fingers were up there. Stiles is nervous and excited about it all.

Derek doesn’t spend too much time with the one finger, quickly adding a second one and that’s when it starts feeling good. Derek’s fingers are about an inch away from his prostate and Stiles is about to curse him out until Derek presses both fingers against his prostate and Stiles has to bite his lip to stop the loud ass moan that almost escaped his mouth. Judging by the look on Derek’s face, he knows he touched Stiles’ prostate, and being the asshole that he is, he has a cocky smile on his face.

After scissoring those two fingers inside Stiles for a few minutes, Derek adds a third finger. The stretch is definitely there, but hey, Stiles likes a little pain with sex. He can be kinky sometimes.

“Okay. I’m ready, come on,” Stiles says. He was starting to get impatient. He just wants to get dicked down already, damn.

Derek gently removes his fingers and gets off the bed to pick up his sweatpants. He reaches into the pocket and retrieves a condom out. Stiles’ mouth drops.

“So you just knew I’d have sex with you?”

“I didn’t know. I just hoped.”

That smarmy little bastard.

Derek gets back in bed and, finally, removes his briefs and...

Holy mother of god.

Well, maybe not the mother of god. That’s blasphemous as fuck. But! The sentiment is the same because wow. Stiles is glad he didn’t knee him in the dick because that dick is too gorgeous to cause serious injury to. He’s not like porn star big, but it is big and long too. And it’s uncut, which Stiles has a weird sort of kink about. He loves uncut cocks. Yeah, that’s a good-looking cock right there.

Derek unwraps the condom and rolls it onto his cock. He then grabs the bottle of lube that he placed on the bed and squirts more out before slathering a generous amount onto said cock. He makes Stiles move his hands before replacing them with one of his own, the other is at the base of his cock, lining it up to Stiles’ hole.

“You ready baby?” Derek asks.

“Call me baby again and I’ll dropkick you in the throa- oh fuck.”

Of course, Derek chose when Stiles was mid-threat to start pushing his cock inside. Geez, that is seriously a big cock, even the fingering didn’t make it burn any less. Derek gently pushes his cock in deeper before pulling it out, then he pushes it in a little deeper than he did at first before pulling it back out again. He repeats that until his cock is seated all the way inside, his balls to Stiles’ ass. Then he stops and waits. There’s sweat gathering above Derek’s eyebrow and some is even rolling down his temple. Needless to say, Derek isn’t as unaffected as he’s trying to be. Which makes Stiles feel kind of great actually.

“Okay, you can move now,” Stiles informs Derek. And when Stiles says Derek goes to town, he really means that.

Derek puts his other hand behind Stiles’ left knee and pulls out all the way, not even the tip is inside, before thrusting back in. Hard.

Stiles’ breath gets forced out of him at the movement. This truly is hate sex, kinda. Derek said he didn’t hate Stiles, but he certainly doesn’t like him all that much. At least, not yet. Who knows what will stem from this. That’s something to think about when Derek isn’t pounding him into the mattress.

Derek delivers a thrust that nails Stiles’ prostate dead on and Stiles makes this super embarrassing sound, like a high-pitched keen. He knows he’s not going to live that down after this.

After that, Derek is consistent with the hard abuse on Stiles’ prostate, and Stiles is getting close to orgasm embarrassingly fast. He isn’t too sure he’ll be able to last much longer. Although, Derek doesn’t seem like he’s going to be able to either. If the grunts and groans he’s letting out are anything to go by.

“Unh, fuck. Derek-!”

“Yeah, you’re gonna come?”

Stiles frantically nods his head and grabs his own cock to start stroking himself. Derek thrusts harder if that’s even possible, and within a few seconds, Stiles is coming all over his stomach.

“Fuck, Stiles,” Derek groans and thrusts one, two, three more times before stopping with a deep, guttural moan. He almost sounds like an actual bear and Stiles can’t help the giggle that escapes him.

Derek gives him a weird look but his lip quirks up in a maybe sort of smile. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh nothing,” Stiles gives him a shit-eating grin.

And since it’s already been established that Derek is an asshole, he grinds and his cock brushes against Stiles’ oversensitive prostate causing Stiles’ whole body to convulse. He slaps Derek’s arm.

Derek pulls out and lets go of Stiles’ legs. They’re sore from being in the same position for so long but Stiles can’t even care. He’s sated and all he wants to do now is take a nap. Stiles stretches his whole body like a cat while Derek disposes of the condom.

“Okay, that was fun. If you want to annoy me, I’ll be in my room.” And with that, Derek walks out of Stiles’ room to go to his own.

Derek was definitely a dick, but Stiles could deal with him. Especially if they continue to fuck like that.

Holy (not) mother of god indeed.

#sterek #sterek smut #stiles stilinski #derek hale #sterek fic #sterek au #smut #My fic

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years

Text

Of Monsters and Men

Chapter 4- Four Marks

Summary: Your travels have taken you to a tavern where you meet the most unlikely of individuals. Then as per usual, trouble ensues.

Warnings: getting manhandled by some elves

Masterlist

Laughing into your mug, you catch the annoyed gaze of your silver haired lover who sits quietly to the right of you on this wooden bench, your backs resting against the stone wall. Its been a couple long weeks since either of you have had moment like this to just sit around and drink with each others company. Geralt may not particularly enjoy the surrounding company of the other tavern goers who fill the hall with their loud speaking voices and obnoxious laughter. But he knows just how much you love the easy entertainment of the civilians living their lives as they have a merry go of it.

"Did I not tell you my seductive powers would work wonders with that idiot from Bruna?"

"You did." Mutters Geralt humorously as he side eyes you.

"Ha, exactly. He had not a chance, try and steal Roach again and you will sorely regret it." You boast happily before taking a swig of your drink, "Hmm, this tastes not half bad either. I've had better of course, but this, not a terribly shit drink in all honesty."

"I'm glad you're enjoying it then."

You smile brightly at your stoic Witcher, he appears rather unenthusiastic but you know what emotions lay behind those two golden eyes of his. He's greatly content having you sit next to him and ramble on about your cleverness in the face of mortal men. He'd have no one else in the entire Continent do such a thing but you, and that's why you love him.

"Right? Great mead, anyways I am a force to be reckoned with, and you know he might have even pissed himself once I gave him a fright. It's what I like to do, lure them in with coy beauty and.." You scrunch your nose while making a fist, "...I got them in my clutches. They never even saw it coming."

"Not once." Agrees Geralt as you lean an elbow against the table to lazily look up at his handsome face.

"You know what?" You ask slyly, scarlet irises trailing all around his face.

"Hmm?"

"You actually look very nice in this lighting, the way you just look around at everyone like you hate the world. It's very sexy." He raises a brow as you smile, "Aside from the stench of horse, sweat, and blood that seems to ever linger on your skin..there's just something about your particular scent that I cannot quite put my finger on."

"You tell me this monthly."

"Do I?"

"Yes. Maybe it has to do with my blood?"

"No. Witcher blood tastes like old mule piss." You add before caching yourself, "Which I wouldn't have the slightest idea personally why. However I know a vampire or two who have divulged in that luxury and have lived to tell me....Not that it's a luxury as in a positive sort of mind, more so, an experience of indulgent sumptuousness for my kin." You're really trying to make this sound less horrendous.

"Drinking Witcher blood?"

You shrug half defensively through a sheepish grin, "What? I never said they killed these Witchers. Okay, okay, that also sounds bad. I promise you though, if they would have killed one of your brethren they would have boasted about the bloodshed. It's what vampires do. So no worries, your friends at Kaer Morhen are most certainly still breathing." Geralt simply holds back a grin as he shakes his head at you and your rambling.

He doesn't care if you know what Witcher blood tastes like, he wouldn't even care if you personally have tasted Witcher blood against your own tongue. He just doesn't want you to stop speaking, it distracts him from the sounds of the tavern goers and that bard. Geralt hums, "Y/N that could have happened three hundred years ago for all I know."

You pause a moment to think, eyes glancing from the window to him as you give a casual shrug, "It might have."

Soon the not terribly horrendous sounds of a bards singing fills your ears with the sweet tunes of an old lute giving what it can to the world as other tavern goers throw bread at the singing man. Oh right there's a bard here. You keep your witty comments to yourself as Geralt keeps his tense stare down with the wooden table while he tries not to grab anyone's unwanted attention, when you glance over to the bard again he's notably walking your way, drink in hand. What now?

Bringing your drink to your lips, you eye up the brightly colored bard as he saunters over, a peculiar smile playing at his features while he leans against a wooden pillar, "I love the way you two just...sit in the corner and brood, minus you my dear lady, what an odd place for such an exquisite creature to..."

"We're here to drink alone." Interrupts Geralt gruffly, you set your drink on the table, a smile playing at the corner of your lips.

The bard nods, looking down for a second before his blue eyes scan over you and Geralt once again, "Good. Yeah, good. No one else hesitated to comment on the quality of my performance, except.." The curious bard walks around the oaken pillar before sitting down across from you and Geralt, "for you two. Come on. You don't want to keep a man with...bread..in his pants waiting. You must have some review for me. Three words or less." Inquires the cheerful bard, a smile upon his bright visage as he waits patiently for an answer. You pull your legs up onto the bench, leaning your right side into Geralt's strong body as you relax a bit more, amused by this bards bold questioning.

"They don't exist." You finally answer, tucking your hands under your arms as you attempt to get a little bit more comfortable. The bards give you a quizzical look, his brows furrowing in confusion.

"What...doesn't exist?" Ponders the bard as he raises a dark eyebrow at you.

"The creatures in your song." Retorts Geralt bluntly.

"And how would you two know?" Vouches the bard with a smile, excitement upon his face at this little guessing game he's just thrust upon himself, "Oh, fun. White hair...two very scary looking swords.." He quietly proclaims turning his attention now to you, "Hmm marvelous, irises the color of roses...dagger at your hip..." Geralt suddenly begins to get up, done with the bards never ending questions. You stand up yourself, the bard just continues to look at you two like you're the most interesting beings in the whole world, "I know who you two are." He confidently rules out while happily watching you both from his chair.

Geralt walks past him as you follow at his side, the two of you heading for the door as the bard jumps up to trail along, "You're the Witcher, Geralt of Rivia....and you're the dhampir princess, Y/N of Alkatraz. Called it!" Concludes the bard enthusiastically, much too loudly for your liking. You ignore the turning faces of the other tavern goers before a curly haired young man rises to his feet before you can reach the door to freedom.

"A job I've got for ya's. I beg you." He pleads almost nervously, you halt your movement as Geralt does the same, the two of you abruptly turning to face the man, "A devil...he's been stealing all our grain. In advance, I'll pay you. A hundred ducat." His eyes nervously shifting from you to Geralt.

"One fifty." Chides Geralt, the man immediately pulls out a small sack of coin previously hidden within his coat, a hopeful smile upon his pimply face.

He flashes you a warm grin as his gaze shifts from you to Geralt once again, "I've no doubt either of you'll come through. You take no prisoners, so I hear." He gives Geralt the sack of coins, the bard watching intently in the foreground, time to kill a devil then.

——

You were able to walk bard free all the way to the gates of the small mountainous tavern and twelve feet into the gravely dirt road before the bard had tracked you two down. Now here you are, a good distance onto the road as you head for the hills where this devil hides, Geralt leading Roach as you walk in front of them, the bard trying to converse with Geralt to his immediate left.

"Ah. You guys need a hand? I've got two. One for each of the, uh, devil's horns." Confirms the bard breathlessly, trying to keep up with yours and Geralt's quick pace up the hill.

"Go away." Grumbles your annoyed Witcher.

You snicker, just imagining what Geralt's face looks like right now as the bard continues to pester him, "I won't be but silent back-up." The bard cheerfully exclaims, throwing his hands in the air for emphasis, you turn to look at him with an amused grin upon your face.

"Yeah I bet you really know how to muzzle that continuous yapper of yours." He smiles back at you, turning his attention back to Geralt.

"I heard your note, and, yes, you're right, maybe real adventures would make better stories..."

"That's if you survive them." You interrupt with a smirk, glancing back around, catching the animated face of the bard.

He smiles to himself as he holds onto the strap of his old lute, "Yes well, you two, smell chock full of them...amongst other things. I mean, what is that? Is that onion?" You turn your head to give him a questioning look, he gives you a quick nervous smile before continuing, "It doesn't matter. Whatever it is, you smell of death and destiny. Heroics and heartbreak, not for you two of course it's just a meaning..."

"It's onion." Mutters Geralt.

"Blood." You add.

"Right, Yeah. Yeah. Ooh, I could be your barker, spreading the tales of Geralt of Rivia and his dangerous lady Y/N of Alkatraz...the-the Butchers of Blaviken!" Bellows the dreaming bard, throwing his hands into the air, Geralt suddenly stops moving, turning to face the smiling idiot.

In one quick motion he punches the bard in his stomach, sending him staggering back onto the dusty road in a coughing and sputtering mess. Geralt turns back to you with a nod before he and Roach continue on past you, you give the bard a diverted look as he slowly picks himself up.

"You've been punched by a Witcher, how's that for your first taste of adventure?" You muse, raising an eyebrow at him.

Clearing his throat of dust he grins at you, "Better then I had hoped." He replies while letting out a small chuckle as he follows you up the road.

——

"Geralt of Rivia, the-the White Wolf or-or something. Mind if I hop up? I'm not really wearing the right footwear." Suggests the bard as he attempts to reach out for Roach's rider-less backside. You sit upon the mare in front of your man, Geralt kindly letting you lean into his leather armor clad torso as he holds her reigns.

"Don't touch Roach." Warns Geralt, the bard immediately pulling away.

"Yeah, right, yeah." He disappointingly replies as you lightly chuckle at the two of them. Soon you and Geralt reach a small tree, where Geralt jumps down to tie off Roach, you sliding off to take a sharp look at your rocky surroundings. The bard watches intently at what your plans are next, deciding to deliver some historical information about the landscape as he tells you how elves called this place Dol Blathanna before they gave it up to the humans. You let him ramble on, unaware you already are educated on the history of this part of the continent, you are almost five hundred years old after all.

You raise your head to find an opening in the large rock formation where the trail appears to lead. Geralt walks past you, sharing an annoyed look as you both listen to the bard rambling on about something you're not listening to. Geralt lets out a huff before turning around and walking down the dusty trail, you trailing after him as the bard lingers in the background.

Your crimson eyes trail over the nearby clusters of tall grasses as the bards loud voice fills your ears, "Geralt? Y/N? Wh-where are you two going? Guys, don't leave me. Helloooo? What are we lookin for again?" Inquires the bard noisily from behind the two of you while you walk past straggly protruding rocks and tall green grasses on either side.

"Blessed silence." Mutters Geralt.

"Yeah, I don't really go in for that. Have you two ever hunted a devil before?" He wonders as both you and Geralt stalk silently towards wherever this devil lays hiding in the brush.

"They don't exist." You add, pulling out your large silver dagger as you listen intently for any unusual sounds.

The bard continues to ramble on while you catch the sight of something tall hidden in the grass, you can hear the rapid heartbeat of this nervous creature. A second later a tiny stone shoots from out of nowhere, slicing Geralt on the forehead as the bard cheers excitedly about how "act two" of his adventure has begun. You watch as his eyes go wide once they spot the devil rising from out of the greenery, you turn to squint at the creature, unsure of what it truly is from here.

"Oh fuck." You whisper before it launches another stone right at you, with supernatural speed you shift to the side where the stone flies past your head, this time knocking out the chatty bard in the process. You and Geralt share a confused glance as you turn to search for this horned fucker before he ends up bloodying you next time. With the beast lost from your vision, you zero in on his thudding heartbeat, not even fifteen seconds later does the devil burst forth from the tall grass. Launching Geralt a good couple yards back as you watch in bewilderment, to taken aback to help him with his unexpected assault.

Within seconds your Witcher is on the hooved half-man, pinning him to the ground as they exchange clever insults with one another. You catching the creatures name to be Torque the Sylvan as it yells at Geralt before he punches the Sylvan in the face to daze him.

Suddenly you can hear the irritated thumping heartbeat of an unfamiliar being when something cracks you across the side of your head from seemingly out of nowhere, sending you staggering to your knees as a small trail of blood trickles down the side of your temple. Your hands catch yourself on the rough gravely dirt as your knees jab into some rocks while you land. When you look up again a large shadowed person is standing above you before they violently bash you in the face with their boot, then darkness.

——

When you wake up again your hands are chained to the wall and a steel collar has been tightly locked around your neck. Your eyes slowly look up to find an unconscious Geralt tied to an equally unconscious bard. The small stony cave prison smells of recent activity in the tell tale scent only an elf could have, shaking your head in agitation you listen to the quiet clinking of your chains. This is not how you intended for today to go.

When you try to pull at your restraints for the first time, you're welcomed with an intense burning sensation flaming the flesh of your left wrist. It appears whoever has taken you prisoner has coated this specific constraint with silver, so whenever you move it just right the metal makes contact with your exposed wrist, fantastic.

After waiting another ten minutes and listening to the bard complain once he finally awoken, Geralt at long last stirs, his eyes going wide as he desperately tries to look around the small stone room. Clearly in a panic and unsure how he got here in the first place.

Letting out an irked sigh you kick his foot to gather his distracted attention, "Oh good you're finally conscious, I thought I was gonna have to kick you awake." You quip at Geralt as the bard chuckles from behind him.

"Now, this is the part where we escape."

"This is the part where they kill us." Grumbles Geralt.

"Who's they?" Asks the bard before an elven woman races into the room, she smells almost sickly and looks even more furious as she kicks them in the head, quickly shutting them up as they grunt in pain.

"Beast." She fumes in Eldar, kicking Geralt once again as you hiss at her, gaining a satisfied smirk upon her elven features, you'd rather enjoy smacking that off her face. A dark curly haired one walks into the room, immediately his eyes catch the bards old lute laying on the floor next to your dagger and Geralt's sword.

You can't see as the bards eyes go wide in fear, "Oi, that's my lute, give it back!" Whines the bard as Geralt gives the she-elf a furious glare, "Quick Y/N, do your scary vampirey thing!" He quickly urges, you'd love nothing more then to shift into a half bat creature and scare the flesh right off this she-elf's bones, but a little problem called silver is preventing you from doing so.

"Shut up." Grumbles Geralt as the she-elf first kicks you in the legs and then Geralt, you're more pissed off then in actual pain from her brief assault.

"You shut up!" She barks in Eldar.

"My Eldar speech is rough. I only got part of that." Replies the bard as you roll your eyes.

"She said shut up." You implore before getting kicked again, the burn of the single silver handcuff sending fire into your wrist as you bite back the pain. The bard then replying to you in broken Eldar as you tell him to "fuck off" back in the same language, Geralt flashing you a confused grimace, unaware that you're fluent in Eldar.

"Do you wanna die right now?" She sasses, staring them down.

"As opposed to later?" Growls back Geralt as she kicks him harshly in the stomach, doing the same to the bard as he cries out for his now broken lute.

"Leave off!" Barks Geralt as she walks around to fiercely punch him in the face.

Your eyes shimmering blood red as anger flashes through them, "I'll slit your fucking throat you elven cunt!" You hiss as she whips around to thrust a boot into your side, the silver chain sizzling your broken flesh at the jarring impact sending you into a flurry of muffled curses, Geralt's eyes softening as he watches you grimace in pain, wishing he could do something about it.

Weakened with this one silver coated cuff, you're not even strong enough to break out of here. Damn silver.

The she-elf scoffs as she glares at the three of you tied up, "You don't deserve the air you breath!" Smack, directly into your Witcher's cheek, "Everything you touch, you destroy!" Another blow straight onto his face in the same moment that the curly haired elf breaks the bards lute in two. Well there goes that.

"You hide in your golden palaces. You beat a bound man, too scared to even look him in the eye!" Screams the bard angrily as you lift your head up higher so your steel collar can't completely suffocate your windpipe, the sting in your wrist keeping you alert and ready to fight.

She sneers at him, "Do you like my palace? Hmm?" She grins maliciously, crouching down to take Geralt's fuming bloody face in her hand, "Does it live up to the tales you humans tell?" She challenges quietly before you pull on your chains, striking her roughly in the nose with your boot, the burning of the silver worth her pained gasps as she stumbles backwards. Falling onto the sandy floor of the stone cave as she sputters and coughs, spiting out a glob of blood while the bard laughs.

"Yeah, take that, pointy!" He cheers as she coughs and wheezes some more from her pathetic spot on the ground, the bard suddenly looking concerned, "Wait, what's-what's wrong with her?" He wonders, trying to twist his head around to find you and Geralt. Suddenly a blonde haired elf and the Sylvan enter into your small stony prison.

"She's sick." He simply states, reaching down to kindly tend to his fallen companion from the ground.

Giving him a bewildered look you lean against the stony wall, "And who the fuck is this?" You snap, lightly pulling on your chains in frustration.

"He's Filavandrel, King of the Elves." Quickly answers the Sylvan as he rushes to the fallen elleths other side.

"Not a king by choice." Affirms the elven king Filavandrel as he glances over the three of you.

Geralt's brows furrow in thought, "You were stealing for them." He concludes with a sneer, blood still present on his lips, the Sylvan turning to answer him.

"I felt for them. They were forced out of Dol Blathanna."

"Forced out? No, they chose..." Starts Geralt.

The elven king snaps his attention over to Geralt, "Do you know anyone that would choose to leave their home? To starve? To have a Sylvan steal for them?" Angrily interrupts Filavandrel before turning his attention back to the she-elf, "Toruviel, no one was supposed to get hurt."

"What's three humans in the ground when countless elves have died?" She sneers, a messy trail of blood dripping down from her nostrils.

"One human. And you can let him go." Protests Geralt with a nod in the bards direction.

"Then Posada will learn that we've been stealing. The humans will attack. Many will die...on both sides." Insists Filavandrel as he stands, walking over to look down at Geralt and you.

"The lesser evil." Replies Geralt as he raises his head to look at the elf king in the eyes, "No matter what you choose, you'll come out bloody and hating yourself. Trust me." The elven king crouches down, almost at eye level with your fuming Witcher, he's in a perfect position to crack across the back of his scull, but smartly you think otherwise.

"That's the problem. I can't. This is necessary." Implores the elven king.

"I understand. As long as you understand...that it won't be long before you follow me in death." Replies Geralt dramatically.

The elven king scoffs, "Yes, because they pushed us from viable soil. Even chaos is polluted. Synthetically enhanced so humans can make magic."

"Chaos is the same as it's always been." You finally add, he turns to look down at you, "Humans just adapted better."

"You say adapt, I say destroy." Corrects Filavandrel, anger lacing his every word.

"You are choosing to starve. You're cutting off your ear to spite your face." You vouch back, his face morphing into one of great resentment and irritation.

"You think this is about pride?" He yells, "My elders worked with humans and got robbed of all they had. And when they fought back, they were slaughtered. "The Great Cleansing," humans called it. I called it digging a mass grave for everyone I loved. And now the humans proudly watch these very fields grow...our babies fertilizer for their grain. I don't wish to bury anyone else....I was once Filavandrel of the Silver Towers. Now I'm Filavendrel of the Edge of the World. If I bring my people down from these mountains, it would mean bowing down to human sovereignty....They'll make slaves of us. Pariahs of half-blood children." Explains the elven king, sadness and hatred coating his very words, you truly do feel for him and all his kind have endured at the greedy hands of humans.

"Then go somewhere else. Rebuild. Get strong again. Show the humans that you are more then what they fear you to be." Argues Geralt, trying to help these elves see the light.

"Like you, Witcher?" Whispers Filavandrel.

"I have learned to live with them." His golden eyes suddenly finding yours before he looks back up at the elven king, "We both have, so that we may live." The she-elf, Toruviel jumps to her feet.

"Please my king. There are others. A new generation. Evellien who wish to fight! Let's take back what's ours. Starting now." She insists confidently, Filavandrel pulls his dagger from its sheath and your breath catches in your throat at what he may do next.

"Don't fucking touch him!" You growl, pulling at your tightly restrictive chains, the clink and slink of the metal sounding throughout the stony room, right as the Sylvan races to the kings side. "Wait!"

"Torque, stand aside!" Shouts Filavandrel sharply.

"The Witcher could've killed me. But he didn't. He's different. Like us." Swears Torque the Sylvan, Filavandrel simply pushes him aside as you pull on your steel chains, it almost feels like you can't breath with how tight the collar is around your throat, the fiery burning of your wrist oozing red hot blood from beneath the silver cuff and onto the dusty floor.

Your Witcher simply watches Filavendrel's every move, a defiant look his his golden eyes, "If you must kill me...I am ready." Pledges Geralt softly, staring down the elven king the whole time, no this cannot be the end, not now.

Pulling even harder on your iron chains, you growl at the king, "If you end his life I will coat the walls of your golden palace in the blood of every living creature that crosses my path!" You scream furiously, tears welling up in the corners of your scarlet eyes as you violently yank on your chains, more blood seeping out from your silver cuffed wrist.

Geralt sadly glances to you before looking back up at the elven king holding his dagger, "But the Sylvan's right. Don't call me human." Continues Geralt as Filavandrel moves to his side for a better angle to slit his throat. To your absolute horror Geralt locks eyes with you before tilting his head up, opening up his neck for a clean shot of his jugular.

Your face falls before turning into a wolf-like snarl, "I cannot promise you a clean death. But by god, I will let you watch your people suffer!" You cry desperately as the elven king raises his silver dagger, wet salty tears unknowingly begin streaming down the sides of your cheeks as your eyes go wide in hopeless dread. Filavandrel gives you one last look before thrusting his dagger upon your lover.

——

You sit silently upon the back of Roach as she's guided by Geralt who keeps one hand on the leather reins and the other hand across your waist. Your fingers hold onto his muscular arm tightly as a white bloodied cloth covers your left wrist where the silver cuff burned and tore at your flesh. It still stings and most definitely wont heal for awhile, but your pain doesn't matter, all that's of your concern is the fact that Geralt's alive and so are you.

"Credit where credit is due." Starts the bard as he walks beside Roach and the two of you, "That whole reverse-psychology thing you did on them was brilliant, by the way." Says the bard before comically imitating Geralt's gruff voice, "Kill me. I'm ready." Geralt glares down at him before the bard continues, "Oh and you Y/N, with those incredibly convincing bloody threats, genius, they looked terrified.." He boasts for you, "That's the conclusion. They just let us go, and you give all of Nettly's coin to the elves."

"Filavendrel's lute not a charming enough gift for you?" You wonder, the bard swaggers with each step, a bright smile upon his dirty face.

"Yeah, she is a bit sexy, isn't she? I do have respect for Filavandrel. He survived the Great Cleansing once. Who knows? Maybe he can do it again? Be reborn." Suddenly the bard begins to sing, "Will the elf king heed, What the Witcher entreaty? Is history a wheel. Doomed to repeat? No that's...that's shit." Surmises the bard, squinting his eyes as the sun beams down brightly upon the three of you on the dusty dirt path.

"This is where we part ways, bard, for good." Remarks Geralt as you lean into his body, turning your head towards the bard.

"I promised to change the public's tune about you two. At least allow me to try." He politely insists as he whips his lute around to gently strum her cords, "When a humble bard. Graced a ride along. With Geralt of Rivia..." Sings the bard, happily strumming away at his new lute as he makes it up on the go, "And so cried the Witcher. He can't be bleat..."

"That's now how it happened." Grumbles Geralt as he quickly halts Roach, "Where's your newfound respect?" Wonders Geralt as the bard turns to look at him, an unbothered smile creeping onto his face.

Shaking his head he looks up at Geralt, "Respect doesn't make history." He corrects before turning around once again, "Toss a coin to your Witcher. O Valley of Plenty. O Valley of Plenty, oh-oh-oh. Toss a coin to your Witcher. O Valley of Plentyyyyy." He sings loudly, continuing to delightfully strum at his prized lute while taking the lead down the dirt path, out of earshot from your whispering.

Hugging Geralt's strong arm that's lazily casted over your abdomen, do you lightly laugh at the bards antics and Geralt's moodiness, "It's a bit catchy isn't it?" You muse while craning your neck to catch his annoyed golden irises, "Why not keep him around...until he gets sick of us or...maybe eaten by a werewolf, who knows."

Geralt raises a single eyebrow to you, "Our nights under the stars are about to get uncomfortable." He simply replies, hugging you pleasantly closer as he clicks his tongue for Roach to walk again. You chuckle at his adorably concerned remark, glad that today didn't end in sorrow and death for once.

Tagged: @notahappytree @ashleyforeverareject @sokkasdarling @kmuir1@haleypearce @diegos-butt (@auds24 sorry idk why ur name won’t work)

#the witcher #the witcher x y/n #the witcher x you #the witcher x reader #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x you #Geralt of Rivia #geralt of rivia #Geralt #falcor the luck dragons stories #of Monsters and Men fic

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aceofspadegrass · 3 years

Note

niragi bullying kids but i think the kids should start bullying back

Bully The Angry Licorice They Said. It’ll Be Fine They Said

Characters: Last Boss, Niragi Suguru, Cabot

Genre: Just some funky bullying. And a little murder.

1.7k words

Niragi really do be bullying children. Even if the children are kind of dickheads in return.

As you see, I am bad at bullying. What I am good at is just calling the other person very dramatic names.

Also Last Boss is just watching the entire thing.

Sorry it's a little bad.

—————————————————————————————————

If there was anything Last Boss preferred to do other than follow Niragi around, it was just sit in his room alone with Cabot, but sadly that wasn’t an option. Niragi didn’t let him sit in his room, poking him awake with his own cat and then dragging him outside for reasons the other hasn’t even told him yet.

Cabot meows quietly in his ear, paws resting on his shoulder as she perched there, watching the world pass by her. Last Boss feels her nuzzle the side of his head, tickling his ear, Last Boss gently reaching up and scratching her where she liked it. She purrs happily, and Last Boss goes back to focusing his attention on Niragi, who saunters down the halls, gun at his side as always. He doesn’t bother to ask Niragi where they were even going, or why exactly he needed him there. Niragi was weird and usually had his own plans that he acts out of a simple impulsive whim, and sometimes Last Boss was simply dragged into it. Maybe because Niragi kind of thought his presence was intimidating and cool.

Or maybe he was just lonely and Last Boss was the only person willing to be in the same room and not judge him for trying to peel a banana with a coin.

They both end up outside, Last Boss slowly blinking as Niragi walks to one of the cars, glancing back at Last Boss and jerking his head towards it, that cocky smile on his face. “ Well? Come on, we don’t have all day.” Niragi called out to Last Boss, who shuffles over. “ Technically, we do…..” He says, low and quiet enough that Niragi would’ve never heard him as he makes it to the car, opening the passenger door. Niragi was already inside and turning it on, Last Boss slipping inside and shutting the door. He snaps on the seatbelt, Cabot comfortably tucked inside Last Boss’ hood and kneading close to the nape of his neck, where the fabric was.

Niragi drives off, not even wearing his own belt, and Last Boss braces his feet against the bottom part of the car as Niragi races down the empty streets with reckless abandon, the vehicle swerving this way and that. Last Boss had to keep his head down to even process it, the outside making him a little dizzy from how violently Niragi was going. Cabot was at least keeping him stable, her constant kneading against his neck familiar and slow.

He doesn’t know where they where even going until Niragi shuts off the car, Last Boss finally looking up and around him. It seemed to be a simple shopping district, Niragi already walking away without him. Last Boss stays put and watches Niragi, silently testing how far he’d go before realizing (or simply just remembering) that he was there too.

Cabot meows, wriggling herself out and landing on his lap, Last Boss looking down at her. She stretches, and proceeds to also make biscuits on his leg before staring up directly at him.

“…. He’ll come back sooner or later, so ….” He tells Cabot, and as if even mentioning his existence summons the demon himself, there was a loud knock at the window, Cabot scrambling off into the back of the car. Last Boss looks up, staring directly at Niragi in silence, face blank. He didn’t appreciate him scaring Cabot, Niragi just staring back.

“ Come on! I didn’t kidnap you to be lazy and sit there! Come on! I want to walk around!” Niragi knocks on the window again, and Last Boss opens the door, if only to stop him from pounding so impatiently. Niragi backs away to let Last Boss exit, the taller of the two waiting until Cabot hops out and rubs against the duo’s legs in content. Last Boss bends down and pets her, Niragi just staying where he was for a few seconds. He leaves when Cabot focused her primary attention on her owner, strolling off. Last Boss follows him silently, Cabot keeping pace with him.

Niragi wasn’t lying when he said he wanted to walk around, quite literally going inside buildings and straight back out, looking at random trinkets that each shop housed. Last Boss stayed outside most of the time, only coming in when Niragi calls him in to show him something that caught his attention, only to leave it there and wander off somewhere else. Nothing went into Niragi’s possession as far as Last Boss was aware, always set down where it was originally. At one point it almost looked like Niragi would take an old handheld console, but all he did was suddenly ramble on about how long it took for him to beat Sonic before putting it down and walking away.

He looks down at Cabot, who was pawing at a stray dust ball. “ He’s happy about things other than violence. He has a brain, isn’t that nice.” He mumbles, out of Niragi’s hearing range, Cabot batting the dust ball away and chasing after it.

There was a shout deeper in the store, and Last Boss goes to investigate, although at his own pace. Niragi could handle himself, he was sure, so he didn’t feel the need to hurry.

“ What the fuck!? Who the fuck are you!” It was a younger voice, Last Boss slowly blinking as he makes it to where the shout came from. Niragi was standing there, door open, Last Boss peeking in. There, all in the corner surrounded by blankets, pillows, and old thrown away cans, were a bunch of kids, perhaps no older than 14 at best. One of them was aiming a baseball bat in their direction, Niragi scoffing and leaning his weight to the left. “ I should be asking you that question. What are you all doing back here, eh? This place is shit.” Niragi smirks, Last Boss watching the interaction in the background.

“ So? Not like what you had is much better, old man!” “ Wh- Old man?! I’ll have you know that I’m fucking youthful as hell! You look like fucking babies!” Niragi growls, the lead kid smirking and turning the bat in their hand, the light in the room illuminating the dark splotches upon the wood. “ At least we’re decades more spry than you! You may look good, but I bet that your old man bones are gonna fail you!” “ I take care of myself, excuse you! I’ll fucking shoot you right here, don’t think I won’t!” Niragi points his gun at the children with a snarl, a few of the children hiding behind whatever they could. Last Boss didn’t know what to make of any of this, but the determination and bravery on the baseball bat wielding kid was impressive, the kid laughing in the face of death.

“ Oh, too much of a pussy to take a few words? You look like you buy your clothes off the bargain rack! No, even better! You stole them from the thrift store!” Niragi only got more angry it seemed, and as a warning shot a few bullets into the ground, a few yelps coming through from the other end. Last Boss blinks, and looks to Niragi for a second. He seemed infuriated by the kid, and likely wasn’t about to take any of it sitting down.

“ You think you’re so tough, but I’ll show you! I’ll show all of you! You’re just kids, and I’m an adult with a gun!” The other kid snorts. “ Yeah, surrrreeeee…… Bet you think you’re tough too! You look like you try too hard.I mean, look at that face! Piercings all on one side? You look like you have silver moles! They look stupid on you!” The kid retorts with a smug grin, and Niragi huffs.

“ And you look like a generic background character that doesn’t even get a name! Who the fuck made that face? Oh man, your mom probably looked like a hag!” Niragi cackles at his own statement, Last Boss slowly blinking as Niragi looks back at him with a satisfied smirk. “ At least I have a mom! You look like yours went and taught you how to be a badly printed pool!” Niragi rolls his eyes at the kid. “ At least it didn’t print little volcanos on my face! Unlike someone.” The leader glaring at him.

“ That’s just how I look! I’ll get super sexy and all the girls and boys will adore me! You’ll look like a wrinkled pocket receipt , ready to decompose and die Niragi rolls his eyes, and he shoots again, closer. “ You say one more thing and I’ll blow you like a piñata.” The kid grins, and his stupid mouth begins to open,” So in other words, you would blow me? Ewwwww! The weird bag of Adderall and crack is gonna get us! I’m sooooo scared~” He smugly and sarcastically replies, a few other kids joining in a little in laughing.

“ He looks like a discarded charcoal grill!” “ Probably smells like overflowing garbage-“ “ Hey! Do you think he even has a brain in there? Probably filled with tapioca pudding! Ooh, or just black beans!” There was a faint click, and Last Boss doesn’t even have time to react properly then Niragi let bullets fly from his beloved gun.

He sighs once the other end were nothing more than flesh, and turns to Last Boss, grinning. “ I’m gonna head to the other store.” He rolls his eyes, resting his gun back on his shoulder as he leaves. “ They really think they could get away with calling me names?” Niragi grumbles on his way out, and Last Boss merely blinks, not even looking back. Cabot comes around on his way out, demanding pats. Last Boss kneels down and runs his hand from back all the way to her tail, Cabot purring. “ He smells more like a sad sandcastle, actually.” Last Boss mutters, and Cabot meows in agreement, the cat climbing him like a short child using a countertop to reach her favourite cereal on the shelf. He stands up and shuffles his way back near Niragi’s side, not at all ready to deal with his angry grumbling for the next half hour.

#aib #alice in borderland #aib fanfic #alice in borderland fanfic #niragi suguru #last boss #takatora samura #last boss deserves a cat #cabot's back :D #she's just vibing doing her own thing #i sure am bad at being a bully-#ask

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king-finnigan · 4 years

Note

242. Soulmate Au and 27. Sick/Injured, geraskier.

Jaskier’s used to bruises. He’s used to the pain, to being littered with dark and yellowing spots. He’s used to waking up to another gash on his arm or leg or torso. He’s used to the scars that mark his once so clear skin.

He wonders what his soulmate’s skin looks like. Clean, probably, barely scathed. No scars, no regular bruises that take weeks to heal and hurt like hell the second they appear on their body.

Jaskier’s used to the pain, but even more, he’s used to the weird looks people throw his way when they see the healing wounds and yellowing spots. Who the hell is his soulmate? he can hear them whisper, Why would they do that to him?

He’s used to wondering, himself. Everyone knows about soulmates. Everyone knows that your wounds appear and heal on the other person’s skin and vice versa. Everyone knows that.

So why would his soulmate let him suffer like this? Why would they not actively avoid danger to spare him this suffering?

He gave up on being careful a long time ago.

Surely, if his soulmate was going to make him bruise and bleed and scar, was going to make him bear the burden of the healing process while their own wounds disappeared like a drop of blood in a stream - why should Jaskier try to be careful? Why should he not risk it all just for the sake of living a little? The world is full of people who live their lives carefully just to make sure their soulmates don’t suffer. Why should he be one of them, when his soulmate isn’t, either?

So yes, maybe he does sleep around with people he shouldn’t really be sleeping around with. Maybe he does get chased out of several bedrooms every month. Maybe he’s as careless with his heart as he is with his body. Maybe it gets broken once or twice or a billion times. It doesn’t really matter.

He’s used to the pain.

He decides to become a bard, at one point or another. He doesn’t really remember when, exactly, but he knows why - he’s so used to being stared at, so used to people’s gazes lingering on his bruises and scars and cuts, so used to the pity in their eyes and the indignant hurt he feels every time he sees it - might as well give them a damn reason to stare. And he’s always been rather fond of music, anyways.

So, he buys a lute, and sets out on the road.

And, alright, things go like shit. He gets food and insults thrown at his head, he gets kicked out of several establishments and even more bedrooms, people still stare at the injuries that aren’t really his. But he also feels more alive than he’s felt in a while. The adrenaline in his veins when he runs from an angry spouse, the lashing of his tongue when he throws insults back, the ache in his feet that’s entirely his and his alone - all things he cherishes and clings to, when he’s starting to feel hopeless once more.

And he still wakes up to new bruises, he still has to sit down at the side of the road when he feels a heavy blow to his gut or back, he still has to calm people down when they see a new gash appearing on his skin out of thin air, still has to say that yes, this happens all the time, don’t worry about it.

I’m used to it.

After a few lonesome months on the road, he finds himself in a tavern in Posada, once again getting yelled at, getting food thrown at him, the whole ordeal. Whatever. Free bread for him, none of his singing for them. Their fucking loss.

His eyes land on a white-haired man, sitting in the corner. Jaskier cocks his head, before stuffing some of the bread into his pockets. He stands up, sauntering over to the mysterious stranger, and he can’t help but admire the way the sunlight coming in through the dirty window bounces off those white locks, can’t help but marvel at the man’s smooth, even skin. A luxury Destiny never granted Jaskier - after all, his first scar appeared when he was barely a week old.

“I love the way you just sit in the corner and brood.” The words are out of his mouth before he can even think them. Careless with his body, his heart, his tongue. He’s used to it, by now.

“I’m here to drink alone.” The man’s voice is surprisingly deep, sending pleasant shivers down Jaskier’s spine.

“Good, yeah, good. No one else has hesitated to comment on the quality of my performance.” He moves so he’s standing in front of the man. He’s used to being ignored or even downright rejected, at first, almost everyone does. It’s been a while since that scared him away, though. “Except for you. Come on, you don’t wanna keep a man with bread in his pants waiting.”

Okay, maybe not his best line, but he’s definitely said worse things - downright insulting things, if he doesn’t watch what he says, sometimes.

The man merely rolls his eyes. Not a rejection, Jaskier decides, and sits down at the table. “You must have some review for me. Three words or less.”

It’s quiet for a while, until the man says: “They don’t exist.”

Okay. He didn’t expect that. Better than nothing, though. “What don’t exist?”

“The creatures in your song.”

“And how would you know?”

The man doesn’t reply, and suddenly Jaskier is struck with a realization. Oh, this is great, this is absolutely perfect. “Oh, fun. White hair, big ol’ loner, two very-” his breath hitches in his throat for a second at the sight of the weapons, something primal stirring in him “very scary-looking swords. I know who you are.”

The man- Witcher stands up, taking said swords with him, leaving Jaskier sitting at the table. He contemplates whether he’s going to stay there or follow the man. Sure, the Witcher isn’t going to appreciate his company, clearly, but there are some very good stories there underneath that unmarred skin that Jaskier can’t wait to hear.

For example, do Witchers have soulmates? Probably not, given how perfectly clear Geralt’s skin is, but still, are they born without them? Or do they outlive their soulmate? Ooh, or do they kill them? Now that’s a story.

So, he decides to follow. He hits his hip on the table as he stands up, and hisses in pain, before it immediately disappears again. I’d say I’m sorry, soulmate, he thinks, as he clutches his now painless hip, but I’d be lying. You’ve given me plenty of bruises, now let me return the favour.

He only now notices that Geralt’s stopped in the middle of the tavern, for some reason. He continues, though, and Jaskier pays no mind to the strange behaviour, as he follows the Witcher outside.

---

“Need a hand? I’ve got two, one for each of the uh... devil’s horns.” Okay, maybe this may be his worst line yet, actually.

“Go away.” He can’t help but smile at least a little bit in triumph at that - at least it’s an answer, it’s something, and something is always better than nothing.

“I won’t be but silent backup!” It’s quiet for half a beat, and he takes that as encouragement to continue, to explain himself. “Yes, I heard your note, and maybe you’re right, real adventures would make better stories, and you, sir, smell chock-full of them. Amongst other things. What is that, onion? Whatever it is, you smell of death and destiny, heroics and heartbreak.”

“It’s onion.”

Another reaction. Great, now Jaskier just has to convince Geralt fully to let him tag along on this- quest? Hunt? Contract? To let him tag along, at least.

Another idea dawns on him. An interesting one, to say the least. “I could be your barker! Spreading the tales of Geralt of Rivia, the Butcher of Blaviken!”

Geralt turns around, and hope flares up in Jaskier’s chest. “Come here.”

He smiles at that. Finally, now we’re getting somewhere. “Yeah?”

“I apologize to your soulmate.” Jaskier frowns. What?

It suddenly makes sense when Geralt lands a heavy blow in his gut, knocking the air out of his lungs. Jaskier’s still half on the ground, wheezing, when Geralt suddenly doubles over as well, hand on his stomach.

“What-”

Jaskier regains his footing again - after all, he’s used to the pain - and stares at the Witcher, mouth open in shock, as Geralt stares right back at him.

Surely this can’t be. He blinks, unsure of what to do, if what he suspects is truly happening. Only one way to find out. He reaches up, twisting his own right ear painfully.

And, well enough, Geralt hisses in pain, grabbing at the right side of his head in reflex. Suddenly, Jaskier recognizes little things, little scars and marks on the Witcher’s skin, that shouldn’t be there if he didn’t have a soulmate - a scar on his lower lip from when Jaskier had fallen when he was a kid and split his lip open, a small bruise on the left side of Geralt’s brow, when Jaskier had hit his head on the side of the door, due to his own clumsiness, last week, a small cut on the Witcher’s finger, when Jaskier had cut himself picking up a nice, shimmery piece of glass, this morning.

All injuries that Jaskier sustained, before disappearing like snow under the light of the sun, appearing on the skin of his soulmate instead, healing there.

Which means-

“You,” Jaskier breathes out, the numbness and surprise making way for joy and happiness and-

A surprising amount of anger.

“You!” He shouts, again, pointing an accusing finger at Geralt unconsciously. “So you’re the one who’s been-” he gestures up and down his own body, at the bruises, the scars, the healing gashes “been doing this to me!”

The Witcher visibly pales, swallowing thickly. “I didn’t know. We’re not supposed to-”

“What? Meet the person you’re doing this to?”

“Have a soulmate.”

It’s quiet for a moment, as they stand there, staring at each other. It makes sense, now, that Jaskier’s skin is littered with old and new wounds, it makes sense that Geralt barely has any. It makes sense, and somehow, that only makes it worse. A Witcher and a human - surely that can’t be.

“So...” Jaskier mutters, anger gone as soon as it came. “Soulmates, huh? Quite a surprise really, but now I do understand why I- uh... why-”

“Why you’re getting all these bruises and scars,” Geralt fills in for him. Then quieter: “Why you keep getting hurt.” The Witcher turns away, continues walking. “Go away. For your own good, stay far away from me.”

Jaskier frowns, feet glued to the ground, unable to put the things he’s feeling into words right now. He doesn’t want Geralt to go, doesn’t want to be left behind once again, as usual. Not by his soulmate. He’s used to it, but not like this.

“Make it up to me.”

Geralt stops, turns back around, amber eyes curious but cautious. “What?”

“You feel bad, don’t you?” The Witcher nods. “Then make it up to me. Let me come along on this little adventure or whatever, and if you- and by consequence, I- get hurt, make it up to me. Kiss it better, or whatever it is that you Witchers do with soulmates you’re not supposed to have. Make it up to me.”

“I’m not kissing it better.”

That’s not a full rejection, Jaskier thinks, and he smiles. “We’ll see, my dear Witcher. We’ll see.”

And when Jaskier gets a bloody nose from a blow landed in the Witcher’s face by a she-elf, later that same day, he can’t convince Geralt to kiss it better.

And when he gets a slash in his upper arm from a Kikimora the Witcher was fighting three miles away, a month later, he can’t convince Geralt to kiss it better.

And when he gets a bruise on his forehead from a rock some little shit threw at the Witcher, half a year later, he can’t convince Geralt to kiss it better.

And when, a year after their first meeting, the Bard slips and falls, and a few seconds later, the Witcher’s lip splits open, Jaskier finally convinces Geralt to let him kiss it better.

#aj-that-person #squish answers #geraskier #drabble #ask game #geralt of rivia #jaskier #not my best work lmao

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bigbadredpanda · 5 years

Text

Chapter 111: Wangxian - Everyday means everyday (extended)

I noticed when I received my MDZS box set in Traditional Chinese that the ‘Everyday’ sex scene was a bit longer than what I had previously read so... here we are ^^

Overall it’s written in more explicit language and rearranged differently compared to the other existing version. The first half of the fragment below is almost entirely new and features Wei Wuxian riling up Lan Wangji while the rest is interspersed with more details.

If you notice inaccuracies or mistakes, please feel free to point them out!

Warning: Explicit sexual content

I strongly advise reading the beginning of the chapter first to refresh your mind and continue here when you reach the first line below. Else it will probably be a bit disjointed.

----------------------------

[...] "... Does it feel good? Inside me?"

Lan Wangji was a man of action rather than someone inclined to flirtation. His words were scarce but his strength was tremendous. Biting his lower lip, his onslaught turned fiercer to answer this question. Soaked with sweat from the forceful thrusts, Wei Wuxian mumbled, "Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan… I like you to death. I'm yours, yours alone… Gently!"

He had been rejoicing too soon and implored again, "Gently, that part is sensitive, don't thrust so vigorously, your strength is too much, your thrusts are too powerful, it hurts a bit… yes… like this…"

Gripping Lan Wangji's shoulders, Wei Wuxian deliberately wrapped his legs around his waist. Lying on the ground, his body was getting worked up in the wake of Lan Wangji’s undulating movements. The continuous grinding against his insides and the brushing of the grass on his skin elicited a low moan from him. After taking a moment to catch his breath, he resumed running off at the mouth, "Lan Zhan, you're really great. How can such a gorgeous beauty play the guqin so well, have such proper penmanship, possess such strong spiritual energy, be endowed with such high cultivation base and even be so amazing in bed? How can you be so outstanding? Tell me how I could not love you…"

Lan Wangji, "..."

Wei Wuxian seemed to be blessed with the innate ability to not feel the least bit ashamed at a moment like this. The more unequivocally he spoke, the more excited he became. "I only want to be fucked by you alone, you can thrust as deep as you want…"

As he spoke frankly, he spread his legs even wider apart and continued, "A bit deeper. All of me is yours through and through, the deeper you go the more I enjoy it. You can also come inside me… Oh!"

Just as he was getting carried away, he suddenly felt the person above him prodding him in a distressingly deep place that had never been reached before. Wei Wuxian's eyes instantly widened. He had never expected that Lan Wangji could in fact go even deeper. He let out a wail and faltered, "Ooh... Hmmn, help, not, not like this, it's too much."

He wanted to curl up to avoid being pounded again but there was no way Lan Wangji would allow him to escape. Pulling out and implacably pushing in, Lan Wangji kept doing him like this and angrily retorted, "You… reap what you sow!"

Wei Wuxian opened his legs in earnest to withstand the rough fucking while whimpering, "Ge, er-gege, I'm going to die, you'll screw me to death. I was wrong, my mistake, don't punish me like this. I'm a virgin, treat me better…"

Drops of sweat dripped down from the ends of Lan Wangji's hair. This person habitually impassive to the point of coldness betrayed at that moment a discomfit expression as if he was on the brink of falling apart, "Are you really begging or are you… purposely… Your hips! Stop writhing!"

Wei Wuxian raised his head and yelled at the top of his voice, "Someone! Help! Hanguang-Jun is… ah! Hanguang-Jun… I can't anymore…"

As Lan Wangji kissed away the tears he had wrung from Wei Wuxian, he uttered through gritted teeth, "... Wei Ying, I am… speaking seriously, do not do that again. I… I will truly... lose control. I fear I… Sorry."

Even at such a time, with a flush spread across his face, he did not forget to apologise, his brows were slightly knitted and his countenance remorseful. Hearing this, Wei Wuxian's heart softened and ached from the havoc he had wreaked, he said gently, "Why are you saying sorry? Even if it hurts, I'm still glad because it's you doing it… aah..."

The two of them were drenched all over in glistening sweat. Wei Wuxian had always forgotten the taste of pain as soon as his injuries had healed. Despite having just suffered the consequences of his actions, he soon opened his mouth again to pant some more nonsense, "Hey, Lan Zhan… I just remembered, you are done for. We're still missing the last of the three bows, we're not married yet. Do you know what is called doing this kind of thing outside marriage? If your uncle knew… ah… he'd drown you in a pond."

Lan Wangji's tone was almost ferocious, "... I was done for long ago!"

His words were accompanied with an abrupt thrust. Wei Wuxian flung his head back in both discomfort and pleasure, exposing his vulnerable throat. Lan Wangji latched onto it to bite him.

The overwhelming pleasure triggered Wei Wuxian’s climax. His mind blanked out for a moment before a fit of lightheadedness set in. The first thought that crossed his mind was, "... I can't believe it, damn it, why didn't my 15-year old self do this kind of stuff with Lan Zhan? My time really went to waste…"

At the same moment, Lan Wangji held him even tighter and released deep inside him.

Lifting his slightly limp and sore arms, Wei Wuxian held him close in return. The two of them remained locked in this peaceful embrace for a while. Wei Wuxian regained some strength and feeling perfectly contented, he wiped away with his hand the smudges of come he had left on Lan Wangji’s body. As he did, he asked, "Second young master Lan, when did you start liking me?"

He was rubbing an inappropriate place at an inopportune time and Lan Wangji's expression turned strange.

Wei Wuxian continued, "If you liked me before, why didn't you do me a long time ago? The back mountain of your home in the Cloud Recesses is a nice location. If you took advantage of the times I sneaked away alone to hunt wild game to tie me up and drag me away, you could have pinned me to the grass just like now and do whatever you desired to me… aah... Gently..."

Lan Wangji had not yet pulled out completely before he started pumping again.

Wei Wuxian became aware that a warm liquid was trickling down from the part of his lower body where they were connected together but he kept rambling a steady torrent of obscenities in Lan Wangji's ear, "Your strength is so great that I would have had no way to resist. If I shouted, you could have silenced me and no one would have heard my muffled cries. Your Sect's Library Pavilion isn’t bad either, we could have spread some books on the floor and rolled around on them. We could have laid out some erotic pictures and compared positions, any position would have been fine. I would bully you during the day and you would bully me at night. You'd fuck my brains out as soon as the door closed... Ge! Ge! Er-gege! Spare me! Mercy, please spare me. Fine, fine, I'll stop talking, you're amazing, you're the best. I can't bear it anymore, I really can't, don't be like this..."

Lan Wangji was incapable of withstanding his teasing at a time like this. This last dozen thrusts seemed to scramble Wei Wuxian's insides, making him beg for mercy in a pitying tone but Lan Wangji exerted more strength instead. Wei Wuxian had been pinned down for almost an hour without changing position. His waist and ass felt numb from the constant pounding. The numbness was then replaced by a tingling pain as if countless insects were gnawing his bones. The pleasure that had coursed through him subsided and gave way to the spreading sensation of being stretched painfully open. Facing at last retribution, Wei Wuxian kissed him cajolingly while pleading without a shred of dignity, "Er-gege, please have a heart and let me off, we have ample time together, let's fuck another time, you can lift me up and fuck me next time, all right? Please won't you spare this inexperienced one today? Mighty Hanguang-Jun, Yiling Laozu has suffered a crushing defeat. Come on, hurry up and come inside me again, let's fight another day."

The veins lining Lan Wangji’s forehead slightly stood out. He forced his words out, articulating clearly each of them, "... If you truly wish to stop… then hold your tongue and stop talking…"

Wei Wuxian said, "But I have a tongue so I can't help using it. Lan Zhan, what I've said before about me wanting to go to bed with you everyday, can you pretend you never heard it?"

Lan Wangji replied, "I cannot."

Wei Wuxian's heart shattered at this, "How can you be like this? You've never refused me anything before."

Lan Wangji smiled faintly, "I cannot."

At the sight of this smile, Wei Wuxian's eyes lit up, he felt for an instant as if he had ascended and he lost track of his surroundings.

However, the next moment, a stream of tears was forced out of the corners of Wei Wuxian’s eyes by the fierce movements that were at odds with this smile like the pure light reflected by the snow.

Hands clutching the grass, he shouted himself hoarse, "Then four days, let's make it once every four days, all right? If four days won't do then three is also fine!"

Finally, Lan Wangji concluded in a powerfully resolute voice, "Everyday means everyday."

#mo dao zu shi #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wangxian #mdzs translation #My translations

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catlordewrites · 3 years

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The Waif ~ Chapter One

As an alien science experiment, she remembers nothing. Knows no one. With nowhere else to turn, Claudia must rely on the Doctor and his companions for help. She's mutating. The Doctor knows more than he's telling. But why does the Time Lord seem to hate her so much? Rated M.

Chapter Warnings: Death, amnesia, violence.

Masterlist - Fanfiction.net - Ao3

Prologue - This Chapter - Next Chapter

Chapter One: Somebody

Anyone walking the streets of Cardiff at approximately eight in the morning would’ve thought that the young woman waking the wrong way down the sidewalk was mentally challenged.

And there were people walking the streets, so many of them were thinking this.

Maybe she was a drug addict that had decided to take a walk in the sun. Maybe she had climbed out of her lover’s window when his wife came home early and she only made it out with a nightgown. Maybe she had just escaped from a mental ward.

Perhaps she had. Who knew? Certainly not her.

She’d left Mr. Stray the moment she realized he was dead. Somewhere in her jumbled thoughts, she recognized that she probably shouldn’t have left his body for some stranger to find, but the mix of relative safety and indifference she’d felt the night before had vanished with the rising sun. She’d panicked, for numerous reasons, and found herself trying to get as far away from the homeless man’s corpse as she could.

Her mind was a confusing murky haze of information and lack thereof. None of her thoughts made sense to her, even though she presumed that they were relatively normal ones to have.

Thoughts like Where am I? seemed to mock her from within her own mind, but from behind a wall of emptiness, like a question on a test that she knew she ought to know the answer to. She’d studied it, but now it was gone. Stupid, forgetful girl. Who am I? Don’t worry, don’t worry. Relax and it’ll come back to you. Where am I supposed to be? What’s wrong with me? Just ask for help if you get lost, but they’ll laugh at you if they know you’ve forgotten.

She felt like crying. She was lost in a place she felt like she probably shouldn’t be. She mentally begged for someone to fix it. For someone to just know and help her.

Claudia studied the faces of the people she passed, hoping to see a flicker of recognition in one of them, hoping that someone may recognize her and say, ‘Oh, there you are! Where have you been?’

She felt an awful lot like an item in the lost and found. Existing in a strange sort of purgatory until someone thought to come by and claim her. Whether that person be the original owner or someone new, it didn’t matter, she didn’t care. A stray animal wandering the streets, trying to find her way back to her old home or into a new one.

Her bare feet began to sting and bleed, but she carried on, hoping to eventually find the place she was supposed to be.

~0~0~0~ . . ~0~0~0~

It didn’t take Claudia long to get tired. She was hungry, sad, and her feet were scraped and bleeding. She came across a nice park, one with benches and children playing on colorful plastic playground equipment, and decided to sit and rest.

A little girl from the playground came waddling up to her. She couldn’t have been more than eight, with bright red pigtails and heavily freckled face. She smiled at Claudia shyly, stopping a few feet in front of her and holding out a small white flower.

Claudia smiled at the gesture. The little girl beamed back, displaying a few gaps in her smile.

“I’m Sara,” the little girl announced confidently, coming the rest of the way over and clambering up on the bench beside Claudia.

“I’m Claudia,” Claudia said softly, smiling down at the little flower as she twirled it between her fingers.

“Why are you so sad?” Sara was looking up at her thoughtfully, her little nose scrunched up as she tried to work out why the grownup beside her could be anything but happy.

Claudia shrugged, keeping her eyes on the flower. “I think… I think I’m lost.”

“That’s no good,” Sara concluded. “Where do you have to go? Maybe I can help.”

“I don’t know. I can’t remember anything.”

Surprisingly, Sara didn’t question it. “Like amn… amnei..”

“Amnesia,” Claudia agreed in her quiet voice, slightly surprised at how easily the word had come to her.

“Yeah. How’d that happen?”

“I don’t know. I just woke up. I don’t even know where I am.”

“You’re in Cardiff,” Sara answered firmly, without the slightest hint of criticism. “That’s in Wales. Which is part of the UK. My teacher made us learn all about it.” Her brow crinkled moodily. “And we even had to point to it on a map. I got that part right, but I messed up on Germany.”

“You’ll get it right next time.” For the first time since she’d woken up, she smiled. It was small and nervous, but a smile nonetheless.

“Hope so. We have to do it again next week.”

“Sara!”

Sara and Claudia looked up to see a tall woman staring at them with her hands on her hips. Her glare was intended for Claudia as much as it was for her daughter, full of wary disapproval and a borderline threat that said do anything to hurt my baby, and I’ll kill you.

Claudia couldn’t blame her, suddenly feeling extremely self conscious about her dirty white dress and bare feet and imagining how it must look to Sara’s mother. For all the mother knew, Claudia was a homeless crackhead and/or lunatic. For all Claudia knew, she was right.

“Is that your mom?” Claudia asked, wilting slightly under the woman’s stern gaze.

Sara winced. “Yeah. I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”

“That’s good advice.” Claudia picked at her finger nails nervously. “You should probably go back to her.”

“Yeah, okay.” Sara wiggled back to her feet, but instead of leaving, she spun back around to face Claudia. “In class, when I can’t remember what an answer is, I think of all the things I can remember. Sometimes the rest will come back. You should try it, maybe you’ll remember too.”

“I’ll try.” Claudia managed another small smile and Sara, satisfied that she’d managed to cheer the sad woman up a little, bounded back over to her mother.

Claudia watched as the mother scolded her, impressed at how nonchalant the child was in the face of her mother’s wrath.

She twirled the small flower in her fingers, watching the delicate petals spin as she tried to pull her thoughts together enough to work out what she could remember. She frantically scoured at the deepest recesses of her mind, looking for anything. A name. A place. A face.

There was nothing.

When an angry black SUV tore around the corner at the other side of the park, Claudia realized that there was something that she knew: angry black SUVs bearing several strange people with strange science equipment and guns were probably bad.

“You!” The man who had been in the driver’s seat shouted as he leapt out of the car. He was dressed in mostly blue, with suspenders and a long, thick coat that flapped around his legs. “Stay where you are!”

Claudia realized, with increasing anxiety, that he was referring to her. She stood shakily, toying with the hem of her dress, mud squishing unpleasantly between her toes. An empty brown holster jangled around the man's waist, the gun shining in his hand. Claudia swallowed nervously in spite of her cotton-dry mouth.

“An ultrasonic resonance scoop and thirteen deaths, and you thought that no one would notice?” The man loomed over her threateningly. “You got clumsy with the last one, though. Just left on the side of the street. What, did you get bored?”

Claudia’s mouth opened and closed as she floundered for a response, but her throat was too tight for any sound to escape. She couldn’t think of anything to say, anyway.

“Hold on, Jack. She’s not like the others,” one of the other people from the car interjected, a woman with dark hair, freckles, and wide spaced teeth. Her large grey eyes were soft with curiosity and pity.

The man, Jack, lacked both of those qualities. His eyes were cold. “You said that about the last one.”

“Oh, be fair,” the woman scoffed, “he looked twelve.”

“Yeah, and he ripped out that police officer’s throat,” another man - a bit frog-faced, in Claudia’s opinion - added. “With his teeth.”

Whatever blood was left in Claudia’s face drained at the thought. Clearly, there was some sort of misunderstanding. She hadn’t killed anyone. Though, a knot twisted in her gut when she realized that she probably wouldn’t be able to remember if she had or not.

“And that’s not counting what the others did before they slipped off.” Jack bared his teeth into something resembling a grin. “We got this one though, don’t we?”

“I… I…” Claudia managed to croak.

“Ooh, she speaks!” Jack crooned, he lifted the gun so it was pointed squarely at her chest. “Let’s go, sweetheart. We’ve got a nice, cozy cell for you to slip into. I’ll buy you a drink while we have a chat.”

Claudia tried to move, but her legs wouldn’t obey. Her heart was beating frantically in her throat, and she could hardly hear the gawking park spectators through the sound of blood rushing in her ears. But she did catch a glimpse of Sara clinging to her mother’s legs.

“I said let’s go!” Jack snapped, roughly shoving her shoulder so she staggered in the direction of the foreboding SUV. The tiny flower from Sara slipped from her grasp and lay forgotten in the mud.

Claudia managed a few steps in the right direction, but stumbled as the air around her began to hum. Black ate at the corners of her vision and her limbs tingled like they had all decided to fall asleep at once.

The man with the frog face pressed a finger to his ear. His eyes widened. “Tosh says there’s another energy spike. She’s being teleported…”

Before Claudia could contemplate what he meant, she was enveloped by a bright gold light.

“No— No, wait!” Jack’s voice rang in her ears, but he sounded far away.

The man’s shouts of protest faded away, replaced by a deafening ringing as the world faded into dizzying blackness.

~0~0~0~ . . ~0~0~0~

She was on the floor somewhere that she wasn’t before. Claudia lay still for a moment, dazed, trying to work out what had happened through the ringing in her ears.

“Is she stable?” A masculine voice echoed from somewhere nearby.

“Yeah. It’s just the transmat, it screws with your head a bit. She’ll be fine in a moment.”

A loud knock echoed around her. She floundered, trying to figure out which way was up. Another few knocks rattled her, and she managed to sit up.

Claudia looked around frantically for the frightening man - Jack, and his two companions - but they were gone, as was the park. The young woman desperately tried to wrap her head around the change in scenery - from a park to what she imagined to be some sort of laboratory.

She couldn’t recall anything that would help explain the phenomenon from the bank of experiences her short life had to offer, so she decided to assume that this was a normal occurrence.

A man in a pale blue coat was peering down at her through some sort of glass barrier. He looked human, but his eyes were far too yellow, rimmed by squarish black glasses. The man raised his hand to tap on the glass again, displaying unnaturally long fingers. Claudia had the odd sensation of being a fish, or perhaps a hamster, looking out at the student who was annoying the class pet.

“Hello!” The man greeted her cheerfully, giving a little wave.

She stared out at him blankly, having no idea of how she was supposed to respond. She was frightened, but no more of the man before her than of anything else she’d encountered over the past twelve hours. At least he wasn’t as scary as Jack. The situation felt far too dehumanizing for her to be polite or trusting. But rude probably wasn’t the way to go, either.

She was in a sort of glass cylinder that served as an enclosure. The cylinder continued high above her head to the ceiling, topped with a black vent. The floor was made of silver grating that bit painfully into her feet.

Outside the cylinder was an altogether different environment. It was white and sterile. Metal counters lined the walls, covered with various forms of intricate machinery; their purpose Claudia could only guess at.

On the opposite side of the room was an observation window. Although tinted, Claudia could make out a man on the other side of the glass. He was an older man, tall with a stern face. He was dressed in a coat like the other scientist, staring out at them with his arms crossed and a clipboard in hand.

At the sight of him, something prickled at the back of Claudia’s mind. It might have been recognition, but it was too faint to be sure.

To her left, Claudia noticed three other cylindrical tanks like her own, each with its own inhabitant. From her viewpoint, she could just make out a boy in his early teens, a young woman with mossy brown hair, and a muscular man that appeared to be in his late thirties.

The scientist with glasses turned away from Claudia, picking up a clipboard as he went and ruffling though it thoughtfully. He stopped in front of the boy, who was curled up in a ball at the floor of his cell. Although his face was half hidden and his hands fisted in his hair, the blood around his mouth was clearly visible.

“Yeah, and he ripped out that police officer’s throat,” the frog faced man in the park had said. “With his teeth.”

Claudia shuddered, imagining it. He looked so small and helpless now, but she didn’t doubt what the man in the park had said.

“223-A is responding negatively,” the man on the other side of the window mused, his voice echoing from the ceiling through speakers. “Prepare to terminate.”

The other glanced up from fiddling with an instrument that resembled a microscope. “Aww, come on, Solane, he’s the first to actually accept the treatments. Surely that counts for something.”

Solane simply wrote something down on the clipboard, not bothering to look up. “Unchecked aggression and mental degradation is not what we are trying to achieve. Don’t get sentimental on me. It’s unbecoming. Now, prepare to terminate.”

The younger scientist sighed and made his way over to a computer console. He typed a few lines and turned a nozzle to the right of the computer. “Proceeding.”

A toxic yellow fog began seeping into the boy’s cell from the ceiling vent, filling the cylinder in a matter of seconds.

Claudia could only watch with mounting horror as the boy twitched and began coughing. Within moments, he was spasming. His gangly body seizing and contorting painfully, head snapping and eyes rolling for what seemed like ages before finally, mercifully, he stilled.

“Lifesigns terminated,” The younger scientist confirmed, still sounding a bit rueful.

A frightened sob escaped unbidden from Claudia’s lips. She shrank against the glass, trying to put as much space between her and the horrible people as she could. The scientists ignored her.

“Good,” Sloane acknowledged.

Much to her dismay, the young scientist ambled back over to Claudia’s tank. He opened a small rectangular window that Claudia hadn’t noticed and looked at her expectantly. “Put your arm through the hole, please.”

Claudia did not want to put her arm through the gap. She didn’t want to be anywhere near this cold, cruel man. Her stomach was still heaving at witnessing the boy’s death and had there been anything in it, she would have vomited.

“Come on,” the man prompted cheerfully. “You won’t get fed until you cooperate. Today’s combination twenty four. You don’t want to miss that, do you? You must be hungry.”

The scientist’s indifferently positive tone made her feel even more sick to the stomach. But he was right, she was starving. Not to mention that she was willing to bet that he would withhold food altogether until she died, if he didn’t give up and gas her first.

Slowly, hesitantly, Claudia slipped her arm through the small window.

“Good girl,” He praised, taking her by the wrist. In one swift movement, he pressed a tube against her arm just a few inches below her elbow. It pinched sharply, causing her to flinch.

The scientist put away the tube and took up a syringe filled with something green. He injected it into her bicep and released her.

“There. That wasn’t so bad, was it? I promised a meal, now, didn’t I?”

~0~0~0~ . . ~0~0~0~

Days ticked by dully, or at least Claudia thought they were days. It could’ve been weeks, or months. The harsh artificial lights never changed intensity to indicate the difference between night and day. Meals were regular, and there were stretches of time where Dinstral, the young lab assistant, wasn’t in the room, but these regularities had no relation to anything else, and therefore weren’t enough to use as a method of telling time. But by her estimates, Claudia had only been wherever she was for a handful of days.

She was given bland bowls of what appeared to be porridge through the small window of her tank. Every so often Dinstral would come by to inject more of the green liquid. Then he would do something called ‘Optimising’. Claudia had no real idea of what that meant, but knew that the assistant would type something in the computer, which then caused her tank to vibrate.

She couldn’t really feel any difference after Optimising, but they seemed to think that the ten minute session after every injection was necessary, and Claudia wasn’t in a position to protest.

After Optimization, Dinstral would take a blood sample and would go off to run tests on it, leaving Claudia alone in her glass prison.

She tried on multiple occasions to initiate conversation. She tried to ask Dinstral what was going on; what he was doing; what they wanted with her; where she came from; but he would only tsk and say that good girls didn’t ask so many questions. Claudia was always offended by the statement, but, once again, wasn’t in any position to object.

Her fellow prisoners weren’t any help, either. The tank nearest to her was now empty. The woman one tank over didn’t seem able to speak at all, simply grunting disinterestedly in response to any statement made in her direction.

The man furthest away seemed like he was the most capable of intelligent communication. His eyes weren’t empty like the woman’s were. They were sharp, calculating. Unfortunately, he ignored Claudia entirely, casting the barest glance in her direction at every futile attempt at attracting his attention. He spent his days staring silently out into the lab, undergoing the same procedures that Claudia was subjected to without the slightest complaint.

Then there was Dr. Sloane. Whenever Dinstral was in the room to administer injections or run tests, he was there, watching through the glass. He would make notes and give instructions, but stayed away.

Claudia wondered why. What was he afraid of? Or was the hands-on part of the test simply beneath him?

The longer she was in there, the more distraught Claudia became. Loneliness was setting in, eating away at her heart in a manner similar to how the cold from the metal grating under her feet seeped into her bones. She would have done almost anything for a hug. Her memory hadn’t returned as she hoped it would. There was no one. Nothing.

Was this where she belonged? A mindless science experiment for strange people to poke and prod at?

She told herself firmly that it couldn’t be. She had to come from somewhere, didn’t she? Someone had to have given birth to her. She surely had parents, right?

She focused on that, spending her spare hours imaging them in an attempt to calm her frayed nerves.

She thought maybe her mother had brown hair, as she did. She might have been kind with a musical laugh and smile lines at the corner of her eyes.

Her father might have been tall. He might have been witty and energetic. He might have had a brilliant smile and perfect white teeth.

They might have lived in the countryside somewhere. With tall trees surrounding the house and a big front yard. Bright yellow flowers might have grown there, making the air in the spring smell warm and sweet. They might have read her bedtime stories and played outside with a dog.

They might have been real, and they might have loved her.

That’s what Claudia told herself, anyway. She knew perfectly well that the probability of any of it being true was incredibly low; but to a person with no memory, fiction is every bit as tangible as reality.

~0~0~0~ . . ~0~0~0~

Then finally, something happened.

Claudia woke up to the sound of people shouting. She sprang to her feet, shaking the groggy remnants of sleep away as she surveyed the lab, eagerly looking for the source. Her fellow lab rats did the same, getting to their feet and staring around with wide eyes, looking more alive than Claudia had ever seen them.

The lab door was still closed, so they couldn’t see what was happening, but something had clearly gotten their captors agitated. Claudia pressed her palms to the glass, ignoring the cold that seeped into them from the lifeless material.

The door finally slid open as Dinstral and two other assistants came bustling in. They moved quickly, shouting things at each other in a language that Claudia couldn’t understand. They tapped at the computers, hustling and gathering equipment.

The cylindrical tanks shuddered in response to whatever commands had been inputted. Claudia watched in horrified amazement as the man’s tank began to sink into the floor. It lowered until the entire thing vanished through the metal-rimmed hole that had evidently been beneath it.

An escape hatch, Claudia wondered. Where does it go?

Both Claudia’s and the woman’s tanks shuddered and began to do the same. Their task completed, Dinstral and his lackeys hurried back out of the room and out of sight.

As her tank was lowered through the floor, Claudia tried to work out what was happening. The best she could figure, they were evacuating.

To get away from what?

Claudia was thrown to the floor, scraping her knees as her tank jarred to a halt, halfway in and out of the floor. The tank reversed, raising itself back out into its original placement before attempting to complete the cycle once more. She stayed on the floor this time, but was still jolted unpleasantly as the machine hit whatever snag it had encountered the first time.

It tried twice more, but ultimately resigned itself to remaining in its original position while the computer at the other side of the room beeped in distress, flashing red warning lights at scientists that weren’t there to respond to them.

By this point, the other experiments were long gone, having been removed by their fully functioning escape hatches.

Claudia got back to her feet and knocked on the glass urgently, having no desire to be caught up in whatever had caused the scientists to leave so quickly. Not that she wanted to stay with Dr. Sloane and his cronies, but that was better than being left to die in her own personal isolation tank.

“Hello?” She called, voice strained from lack of proper use. “Is anyone there? My thing… my thing got stuck!”

There was no reply. She dared calling out a few more times, but received the same result. Everyone was gone.

She wrapped her arms around herself in a poor imitation of a hug as a new kind of despair seeped into her heart. As dehumanizing and horrible as her stay here had been, it was all she knew. Change is hard, for the better and for the worse. It didn’t help that she had no idea if her situation was either.

Please don’t leave me, Claudia begged, not to Dinstral or Dr. Sloane, but to anyone; to her theoretical family and friends; to anyone at all that might’ve laid claim to her. Please don’t leave me alone.

Minutes felt like hours, and even though she had been abandoned there for hardly any time at all, she felt like she’d been alone for years. So when the sound of footsteps echoed from through the open door, she barely recognized the hope that flared within her.

A man came racing around the corner, twisting wires together with more draped around his neck. He was tall and skinny with a narrow face. He wore a brown pinstripe suit and tie with light colored shoes and hair that stuck up every which way - like he’d been running his fingers through it in agitation.

The man spotted her and stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide with shock.

He stared at her for a moment, and Claudia watched as a wide variety of expressions crossed his face. Surprise. Confusion. Then winded, like he’d been punched in the gut. Then anger.

“You!” He sputtered, voice going a bit squeaky. “What are you—?”

“Doctor?” A young blonde woman in a pink sweatshirt and jeans came charging in after him. She skidded to a stop and examined the room owlishly.

“How did…? Where have…?” The man, whom Claudia presumed was called ‘Doctor’, wavered his way over to the glass, coming closer in a few spastic spurts, much like a worked-up dog would to something that it wasn’t sure was friendly or not. His voice became strained and accusing, stress written on every line of his face. “Why did…?”

“Do you know her?” The blonde asked, coming around to peer at Claudia from around the Doctor’s shoulder with doe-like eyes.

“Know her… I…” The Doctor broke off, hurt and anger melting into confusion and curiosity as his eyes roved over her. “But… What?”

“What?” Claudia echoed with wide eyes, unnerved by the strange man but who had yet to complete a full sentence.

The Doctor pressed the button to the lock and the glass slid away, removing the barrier between them. He stepped into the cell and came uncomfortably close, peering into her confused eyes with his narrowed ones.

“Doctor?” The blonde asked again, looking uneasy as well.

His eyes darted around Claudia’s face, absorbing every detail. Then he snatched up her hand. He ran his fingers over her palm, pushing and prodding at the space where her fingers met the rest of her hand.

“Show me your teeth,” he ordered, peeling back his lips as an example.

Claudia did as instructed, but was alarmed when he quickly ran his thumb along the edges of her teeth. Claudia recoiled, slightly disgusted, and looked to the equally perplexed blonde for help.

“Alright, Doctor, that’s enough of…” She came forward, waving her hand in the air. “...whatever this is. Who is she and what’s so important about her teeth?”

The Doctor blinked and took a step back, shoving his hands into his pockets and staring at Claudia. She could practically see the cogs turning behind his deep brown eyes.

“A lot, actually. But…” He took another step towards Claudia. “Do you know who I am?”

Claudia rubbed her hands anxiously, not sure if she felt hopeful or afraid. He was certainly acting like he knew her. So maybe…

“No,” she said, getting a bit breathless with nerves. “Or maybe? I… I don’t know. I don’t know anyone.”

An explosion sounded in the distance, making the floor shudder. Claudia flinched, her eyes darting back and forth as she became even more agitated.

“Claud…” the Doctor said softly but with a hint of warning, like he was addressing a child. “How d’you mean you don’t know anyone?”

“I don’t know.” She cowered under the heat in his endless brown eyes. Then she blinked, her next-to-empty mind having caught the discrepancy. “You know my name?”

The Doctor seemed to realize his mistake. He grimaced slightly.

The floor shook once more.

The blonde stepped forward and wrapped an arm around Claudia’s shoulders. “Doctor, leave it for now. Ship losing orbit, remember? We’ve got to go.”

“Ship?” Claudia echoed, more confused than ever.

“Spaceship,” the blonde stated, as if it were obvious. “We’re in space. Did you not know?”

“Space?” Claudia blinked, trying to process it. Not that she had a reason to find the concept of being in space ridiculous. Nevertheless, it seemed… wrong. “Oh.”

The Doctor watched Claudia for a moment longer, pain and concern warring behind his eyes, then sprang into action. He took up the wires he’d been messing with before. “Right. Got to patch this into the mainframe, bypass the…” He glanced back up at the two women. “Rose, take her back to the TARDIS. I’ll be along in a minute.”

“Right, this way.” Rose guided Claudia through the empty corridors, reassuring her every time the other girl flinched at a sudden sound.

“Where have all the people gone?” Claudia asked, peering around corners, expecting one of the scientists with the blue coats to come around them at any moment.

Rose grinned mischievously. “The Doctor locked them all in the cargo hold. Don’t worry, they can’t get out.”

“Oh, okay.”

What else could she say?

#doctor who #dw #doctorwho #tenth doctor x oc #tenth doctor x reader #10th doctor x oc #10th doctor x reader #tenth doctor #fanfiction #fanfic

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ryttu3k · 3 years

Text

Part 2 of my season 12 reaction posts! Find part 1 (Resolution of the Daleks to Fugitive of the Judoon) here!

Praxeus

Thoughts on Doctor Who - Praxeus!

OKAY FIRST. THANK YOU, SHOW, FOR FIXING A BIG ISSUE I HAD WITH THE FIRST SEASON. So they were doing a thing where they’d introduce incidentally queer characters, have a female character mention her wife, stuff like that, only for them to die. This episode had Jake and Adam, married/separated/it’s complicated couple, who face huge amounts of danger, who both come close to dying, but who survive! And have a Big Damn Kiss! And walk off together holding hands! They survived!!

Plotwise, I enjoyed it a ton while watching, although in retrospect it did feel a bit free of danger. The companions were never in true peril because the Doctor can home in on them automatically, and we never got the true scale of the risk of infection, since the only people we saw get infected were in isolated areas. I would have liked to see, for instance, the threat of Praxeus spreading beyond just the very Hitchcockian birds; all of the peril was on an individual level.

Good message, if unsubtle. Mind you, that’s kind of Doctor Who’s thing, and it pisses off conservatives, so all for it, really XD (They must have loved the core relationship in this episode, too!) Like. Subtle doesn’t work. There are literally climate change deniers that exist. Sometimes you actually do have to tell a message with all the finesse of a sledgehammer because .

(Side note, I was deeply concerned when I saw the cowriter was the guy who did the hot mess that was Kerblam!, so at least this was just an unsubtle and kind of questionably written story instead of an actively harmful one.)

The companions: Ryan seems a fair bit more confident on his own? His initial scenes with Gabriela showed that he’s starting to work well even without backup, and picking up the bird proved to be a damn good call. Yaz and Graham were a fun pair, and Yaz got a lot to do when she and Gabriela (again!) got to explore, and I can definitely understand the conflict between curiosity/doing what’s right and safety when it came to the teleport scene. She does seem to be bordering on the reckless. Intriguing!

Minor plot snag - Graham knows how to set up an IV, presumably because of the shitload of time he spent in hospital! …And yet he doesn’t know what a pathogen is?

Friend note!

“fun fact about graham seemingly not knowing what a pathogen is! in my reading of the scene, i saw it as graham knowing what one was. with "Well, I’m glad you asked that…!” he seems like he’s actually sort of pleased with himself, like he’s about to launch into an explanation, and then IIRC there’s a very brief shot at Ryan giving him a Look and Graham immediately changes tone to “…cause I didn’t want to look stupid.” he immediately changes from boosting his own ego to bolstering ryans and im love"

In which case, good shit gooood shit.

SFX - the infection was creepy as shit. The very obviously puppet bird near the lab was hilariously bad.

Apparently the filming was tricky because it was super windy so all the shorts of Thirteen with her hair Like That weren’t planned, it just kind of happened. Love a fluffy ruffled Thirteen.

So anyway. People calling for more plot focus - literally this is the Doctor trying to distract herself and not focus on the plot! This is her avoidance tactic! Emotional honesty? Who’s she? She’ll get back to it eventually, but for now she needs a distraction after being punched in the emotions. Give her that for one episode, c'mon.

Ryan: “…I do a lot of running.”

Graham: “Whatever is giving off those weird readings… is on the other side of that wall!” Yaz: *silently turns scanner around* Graham, not skipping a beat: “…is on the other side of that door!”

Yaz: “I don’t want you to panic, but… we followed one of those things through a teleport and now I think we’re on an alien planet.” Thirteen: “…well, you don’t do things by halves!”

Thirteen: “That’s why you smell of dead bird! I thought you’d changed your shower gel.”

Thirteen: “I’m having half a thought. Ooh, this one tickles!”

Thirteen: “What can I say? I’m a romantic~”

In conclusion, Doctor Who said gay rights.

Can You Hear Me?

Thoughts on Doctor Who - Can You Hear Me?

Trigger warning for discussion of depression and suicide.

You know you're in for a wild ride when iView warns for horror themes instead of science fiction themes.

Overall: at first impression, it felt sort of mashed together? There's 14th century Aleppo, and there's 21st century Sheffield, and there's a deep space station, and there's creepy monsters and dream villains; I do kind of wonder why Zellin targeted a random girl in Aleppo as source for his pet monster, although targeting people like Ryan's best friend makes sense if he's deliberately trying to lure the Doctor to him.

The theme, on the other hand, of mental health resiliance and reaching out, was done incredibly well. Oh yeah there'll be more comments about it - the Guardian described it as 'adventures in Wokeness' - but damn, sometimes you need to hear it. I loved getting more of Yaz' backstory, about being a desperate teenage runaway at the point of being suicidal, and her reunion with the older woman legitimately made me tear up.

But like, goddamn. Her nightmare - she's still hearing that. She's still hearing her sister saying that she should "do it right this time" and that this time she won't call and that no one is coming and holy fuck. God this makes so many of Yaz' scenes incredibly painful in retrospect, knowing that she was at that point only three years before and that she's still dreaming that shit! It makes her recklessness terrifying!

Ryan's nightmare, and his experience with Tibo - it's quite reflective of the Doctor, too. She wasn't there, and Gallifrey burnt. And Ryan is realising this now, and really thinking about the potential future in Orphan 55. I think this is absolutely foreshadowing Ryan leaving at the end of the season (there's been a lot of speculation given Tosin's new TV role), and I think Ryan and Yaz' discussion at the end of the episode was a definite hint in the direction of Ryan choosing to going back to Earth.

Would have really liked Graham, during his talk with the Doctor, to gently remind her that she can talk about her own problems, although I can understand the narrative choice on why she didn't (although, yeah, would have been good for Graham to ask). Because, yeah, if anyone needs a sympathetic ear (...sans fingers) or a shoulder to lean on, it's her!! The entire theme of this episode was like... reaching out. Conquering your fears with the help of others. Sharing your fears to lessen them. Getting help. And the Doctor deliberately... not doing that makes it into an actual Thing that I think is going to seriously be addressed by the end of the season.

It's been such an ongoing theme. A bunch of episodes have started with an obviously depressed Doctor. The Fam has tried to raise the issue multiple times and have discussed it amongst themselves even more. Scenes like Yaz' reaction after being abducted in Spyfall (...which makes her, "I thought I was dead" part even more worrying) and being comforted by Ryan, not the Doctor... her whole reaction to Graham being like, "I'm glad you talked to me but I literally can't do the same in return" - if it's not addressed by the end of this season, it's at least going to have to be an ongoing theme, because it's becoming very deliberate now.

An interesting note: the actor who played Zellin (an immortal manipulator of nightmares) also voiced the Remnants (who were the first to mention the Timeless Child in The Ghost Monument). Coincidence or deliberate?

Assorted thoughts:

"I'm still quite socially awkward." There's socially awkward and there's emotionally repressed... (I saw a description of it on Tumblr as 'weaponised dissociation' and... yeah. And also yikes.) Also the way she was so closed in on herself, basically hugging her arms to her body! On a semi-related note, talking to herself in Aleppo was a bit depressing. Like it's continuing the theme of The Doctor Does Not Like Being Alone.

The finger thing - ew ew ew ew it's in their EARS ewww D:

Stylistic comment: the traditionally-styled animation for the Immortals' game was gorgeous.

"Try not freak out, yeah, but you're on a floating space platform trapped in a gravitational pull between two colliding planets."

"Thanks for lending a helping hand!" Companions just being, "...Doctor p l s."

On an old lore note, loved the callback to Eternals, Guardians, and the Toymaker! On a concerning note, man, the Doctor has so many issues with immortals. They abandoned Jack, there was the punishment they gave the Family of Blood, they had those Issues with Ashildr (from what I've read), now this, an eternal punishment with no chance of redemption, perhaps because she knows what immortality does? Parallels with the Doctor as quasi-immortal too, which Zellin even pointed out.

"You're wrong about humans. They're not pathetic. They're magnificent. They live with their fears, doubts, guilt. They face them down everyday and they prevail. That's not weakness. That's strength. That's what humanity is."

(Contrast: "That's what humanity is." The Doctor isn't human. She's not prevailing against her fears, doubts, and guilt.)

In conclusion, literally everyone but the creepy immortals needs a hug.

The Haunting of Villa Diodati

Thoughts on Doctor Who - The Haunting Of Villa Diodati!

tfw you think you're just going to get a nice spoopy historical and instead get major plot?

Overall impression: Well, Jack is going to be pretty miffed, given that the Doctor had to do precisely what he didn't want to happen - giving the Lone Cyberman what it wanted. To save Shelley, and also to save the future, although that does bring up the question on if the death of one person can rewrite the future, why doesn't that apply to literally everyone? Fletcher the valet and Elise the nurse died too, do their deaths have the same impact? Either way, the Doctor takes the Cyberium for herself - then realises that the Cybermen are inevitable, and returns it. And now she's trying to go and stop them. So... a bit conflicting in the message there, I think.

Yeah. Bit of a Trolley Problem there.

The characters were really fun. I did enjoy seeing Mary's sense of morbidness, but also her kindness and sympathy towards the Cyberman; you can see the foundations of Frankenstein there. I'm seeing some criticism of how Byron was portrayed as a coward, but eh. Nice little callback to Ada. Also I love how one of the rules was 'no one snog Byron'. Put that dirty boy back, you don't know where he's been! Glad Claire realised that too, although historically, she was already pregnant with his daughter at that point (and that didn't go well at all)... Either way. Good display of all these bright young reckless things.

(And yes, they were young. Byron was the eldest at 28. Shelley was 23, Polidori was 20, Mary and Claire were just 18. And while Claire lived to 80 and Mary to her 50s, the three men all died young, too - Byron at 36, Shelley at 29 - yes, from drowning, Polidori at just 25. Also wasn't mentioned that Polidori also created something on that Dark And Stormy Night along with Mary's Frankenstein - he wrote The Vampyre, the first modern vampire story!)

The Lone Cyberman (and I am deliberately using that instead of 'Ashad') - creepy as shit. Not just the whole Frankenstein look, but the way he acted! Not emotionless and blank, but actively manipulative and sadistic! Mary showed empathy and he actively threw it back in her face! I mean, yikes.

House was terrific and also spooky as hell. (Am lowkey miffed that no one went "VIBE CHECK!") The jumbled layout was quite Castrovalva, and I actually really dig that Graham got to see some actual ghosts. Ghostly sandwiches!

I think we got actual confirmation here that Yaz does have feelings for the Doctor? (Bleeding Cool News is pretty sure that it was for Ryan, but... lmao no.) BBCA twitter certainly thinks so!

Claire: "His answers only increase the enigma." Yaz: "I know someone like that." Claire: "This enigmatic person of yours... would you trade them for reliable and dull?" Yaz: "My person's a bit different..."

I MEAN.

(It got deleted. So. There is that.)

Thirteen: "Hmm. Fourteenth... no. Fifteenth century... touch more umami." (Doctor, have you been playing Detroit: Become Human again?)

Mary: "I don't think they're really from the colonies!" Byron: "No, she... is from somewhere much, much stranger." Polidori: "The North."

Thirteen: "YOU HAD ONE JOB."

Cyberman: "You appear courageous. But your vital signs betray a heightened state of anxiety." Thirteen: "Or as I like to call it... Tuesday."

Thirteen: "Yeah, 'cause sometimes this team structure isn't flat. It's mountainous, with me at the summit, in the stratosphere, alone. Left to choose. Save the poet, save the universe. Watch people burn now, or tomorrow. Sometimes even I can't win."

Claire: "You pursued Mrs Doctor without a care for my presence, belittled my thoughts and opinions... and then proceeded to use my person as a human shield." Byron: "...And?" Claire: "And the spell is broken... my lord." Polidori's face: "haha you fucked up dude"

Next week: Shit Hits The Fan.

Ascension of the Cybermen

In lieu of a proper post for Ascension of the Cybermen, here are a list of questions we need an answer for.

Will Graham and Yaz survive, on a giant carrier full of Cybermen?

Who is Brendan, and what is his relevance to the story?

What is the Boundary?

How is Gallifrey in the Boundary?

How was the Master in Gallifrey, and not trapped by the Kasaavin?

Who is Ko Sharmus and why am I getting Yana vibes?

Who is Ashad and what is his story? (And why is his theme such a literal banger?)

Is he an actual Cyberman? Because I'm totally getting this impression he's human in armour?

How did Brendan survive being shot, and why did his non-ageing father and mentor do that?

Why did it look like a chameleon arch?

Is Ethan's tech-savvy just warzone familiarity or something more sinister?

Are there any other large human populations left?

Was I detecting a hint of romantic tension between Graham and Ravio?

What's up with Yaz?

Why did the Cyberium get sent to that time period?

Who or what is this alliance Jack is a part of?

How do the Time Lords and the lie of the Timeless Child come into it?

WHO THE FUCK IS BRENDAN?

The Timeless Children

WELL THEN.

While I gather proper thoughts on The Timeless Children, here are the questions I had from Ascension of the Cybermen, now with answers!

Will Graham and Yaz survive, on a giant carrier full of Cybermen?

Yup! Disguises for the win!

Who is Brendan, and what is his relevance to the story?

Brendan is a filtered overlay memory of one of the Doctor's former lives.

What is the Boundary?

An anomaly, as far as I can tell.

How is Gallifrey in the Boundary?

No idea!

How was the Master in Gallifrey, and not trapped by the Kasaavin?

No idea!

Who is Ko Sharmus and why am I getting Yana vibes?

A big damn hero.

Who is Ashad and what is his story? (And why is his theme such a literal banger?)

We're still not actually sure. Either way, he's an action figure now.

Is he an actual Cyberman? Because I'm totally getting this impression he's human in armour?

Yeah, sort of.

How did Brendan survive being shot, and why did his non-ageing father and mentor do that?

Because Time Lords.

Why did it look like a chameleon arch?

It's probably related technology! If the chameleon arch rewrites memories, this one just wipes them.

Is Ethan's tech-savvy just warzone familiarity or something more sinister?

Just warzone familiarity. Poor li'l bean.

Are there any other large human populations left?

Possibly! If the Boundary really did send them to random places, there still could be surviving pockets elsewhere in the universe.

Was I detecting a hint of romantic tension between Graham and Ravio?

Maybe a bit XD And now they're all on Earth, who knows?

What's up with Yaz?

Who knows?

Why did the Cyberium get sent to that time period?

Ko Sharmus sent it. Didn't send it far enough.

Who or what is this alliance Jack is a part of?

Same organisation Ko Sharmus is part of. Also, young!Ko Sharmus/Jack please.

How do the Time Lords and the lie of the Timeless Child come into it?

In so many ways.

WHO THE FUCK IS BRENDAN?

The Doctor!

More thoughts later!

Thoughts on Doctor Who - The Timeless Children.

...Actually, first thought is the title. Timeless Children? Hmm.

Anyway. That is... sure a literally mind-blowing revelation for the Doctor, yes! Like, damn, the discovery that you're not even the species you thought you were, that your adoptive parent spent lifetimes abusing and experimenting on you, that your memories were routinely erased by people you thought you could trust (including your adoptive parent), that you're literally the progenitor for your entire species, that you've lost who knows how much time and who knows how many memories... yeah. Damn.

What's an appropriate birthday present for someone turning ten million?

Also, huh. Amidst all the old lore and casual mentions (like Borusa!) that got mentioned - were they taking hints from the Cartmel master plan? About the Doctor being some kind of founding figure for Gallifrey? Not exactly written as Cartmel had it, but that big main concept of the Doctor as a sort of... foundation piece of Time Lord culture was still actually there.

Brain of Morbius Doctors confirmed, I guess. I guess even Four was going, "...the fuck?"

Cybermen = still scary. Regenerating Cybermen = felt somehow obscene. Like, no, that's just fundamentally not right. Like the TARDIS responding to Jack by noping the fuck out kind of not right. God. And the Master was completely and utterly magnificently batshit, like, more than usual, come on, dude, you know they'd kill or convert you the second you turned your back.

Still. Deeply, deeply entertaining to watch just from a villain perspective, completely Chaotic, and like... I do understand where he was coming from? His entire life is a lie. His entire life is because of the Doctor, who, I think it's fair to say, he has Complicated Feelings regarding. (Their entire interaction this episode was a giant power play. Like damn guys just get into BDSM and leave the would-be genocide and universal takeover.)

Tecteun = Rassilon, I'm assuming. Goddamn. Like they were a pompous abusive asshole from the outset, this just kind of makes it worse. I also wonder if Rassilon chose the Master specifically to get the drums because he was friends with the Doctor? That actually may have been something the Master worked out himself, too. I mean, I'd be pissed off as well :-\

Also, how many people know about this? I assume Gat knew, since she was implied to be responsible for the mind wipes, but was it like... a super tightly-held secret or was it something a lot of higher-ups knew? Because that's fucked up tbh

Thought on the Master. Okay, he's hugely furious that he's been lied to, that the entire origin of his people is based on a lie, that his greatest friendrivalloveenemy is incredibly special and that a part of her is in him and not in the fun way, but like... I'm also wondering if he's looking at the Time Lords, the way they turned him into their puppet, how they drove him insane for their own purposes, then looked at the Doctor - someone who has also been used, abused, experimented on, manipulated, controlled, and went, "No. This is an injustice and the Time Lords need to be punished for it."

Oh, saw a nice theory regarding the TARDISes - Ruth!Doctor had the original busted police box TARDIS. When she was eventually taken in to be mind-erased, they sent the TARDIS off to storage to be eventually repaired. The Doctor manages to steal that one, goes to Earth, and it immediately gets stuck again because it's still broken. Explains how Ruth!Doctor can have the police box while also being pre-everything.

I really want the Doctor and Jack to sit down and have a nice chat about being timeless undying constants of the universe. Also for Jack to get one of the spare TARDISes around. Be kinda funny if he got the Master's old one, given the Year That Never Was, but it really is just sitting there. (Poor TARDIS stuck as a tree on a random wartorn planet in the far future, though!)

Also, Jodie was fucking magnificent in this episode. The hurt, the absolute fury, the almost glee when she's telling the Master he can't break her, her refusal to press the button at the end (so much like Nine's "coward or killer?" moment!)... just... so good.

Beautiful post I saw here on Tumblr - the Doctor as the Timeless Child, making the choice to help.

Amazing post here on Tumblr about abuse and repressed memories. Even if the Doctor doesn't remember it all, the abuse they underwent at the hands of a beloved parent figure still informs a hell of a lot of their behaviour, but it doesn't define them. The Doctor's need to run = informed by abuse. The Doctor's desire to help crying children = informed by abuse. The Doctor being an inherently good person = being their own person, no matter what their upbringing, no matter what their past was. They made the choice to be the Doctor, and that's a hell of an important thing.

Extremely painful post I saw on Tumblr about the Doctor being 'hip with the kids' by calling her companions her Fam but hell if they're not more family to her than her actual adoptive mother ow my heart.

Also, the scene between Yaz and Graham was so sweet <3 I do want to see Yaz, at some point, admit that sometimes she's so terrified she can barely move, and to tell him what she came so close to doing when she was sixteen, and Graham to just go, "Yeah, but you keep going." Also I'm trying not to think about how Yaz would respond to the Doctor going off on a suicide mission when Yaz was suicidal just three years earlier because ow my heart. She knows that Ko Sharmus went after her, she knows the Doctor might be alive, but either way, she's just seen someone she loves leave with the intention of dying (and Ko Sharmus too, actually). Someone please give her a hug. Actually please just let the Fam have a big group hug in general.

"Have you ever been limited by who you were before?" "Huh. Now that does sound like me talking."

So, remaining questions to be answered next season!

What actually is the Doctor? Since they were found near the Boundary, they could be from anywhere. It's fair to say they now are recognised genetically as a Time Lord, but what were they originally, why were they abandoned in the first place, and are there any more of their original people out there?

How do the Remnants know about the Timeless Child, or were they just picking up on that unconscious knowledge from the Doctor's own mind?

Like... we're generally under agreement that the Master, the eternal cockroach, survived, right? Despite definitely being lowkey suicidal like oh, was hoping the Death Particle would kill me? Like the Death Particle was made by the Cyberium, it could have gone, "Nah, keeping this one."

What's going on with the Kasaavin? Remember them? Still out there, stationed all through time and space? And are we going to see Daniel Barton again?

Is something going on with Yaz?

Will the Fam stay on? (I personally think Ryan will elect to stay on Earth to account for Tosin Cole's new TV role, and if Graham and Ravio enter a relationship, he might too.)

When will we see Jack again? If he was connected to the Lone Cyberman arc, that seems... pretty conclusively finished, unless we're going to learn more about it?

Is it Christmas yet?

............so the Christmas/NY special is going to start with Jack using his vortex manipulator to bust the Doctor out of prison and get back to the Fam and it'll never be mentioned again, right.

"At least buy me diNNER!!"

#doctor who #companion love #best enemies #long post

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savedbystyle · 4 years

Text

cruel summer (b.b)

pairing: highschool!bucky barnes x reader

warning: angst, death of major character

summary: falling in love was scary, but thrilling especially when it was with bucky barnes

a/n: this is the second part to the lover series!!! i have received such positive feedback about i forgot that you existed and OMG it makes me incredibly happy:) also i know that during the times bucky went to high school it was all white students BUT that would suggest a white reader, and my aim is to make the reader as fitting to YOU as possible. I get it i’m indian and the pain, but yeah so were just gonna pretend were in those times but with todays diversity:)

song: cruel summer by taylor swift

gif credits to original creator

****

Fever dream high In the quiet of the night You know that I caught it

You were walking through the halls with your friends June and Sara, careful not to bump into anyone. “I can’t believe that you and Connor are going out Sara” June said with a big smile on her face. “Oh for lord’s sake June, calm down its not that big of a deal” “Oh Sara darling, it IS! I mean Connor is one of the most well known boys in school plus he’s as cute as a bug’s ear”

You laugh at the banter between June and Sara when you accidentally bump into someone.You bend down to pick up your books, but not before someone does it for you. You stand up and look at the attractive man standing in front of you. Your eyes meet the steel blue eyes in front of you. “I’m sorry doll, didn’t mean to hurt ya there. I’m Bucky” you smiled at him “I know, Bucky. My name is y/n, thanks for helping me” You smiled at the attractive man in front of you and made your way back to your gaping friends. “That was-” June paused “Bucky Barnes” Sara completed for her friend. “Oh stop it you’re gonna get flies in your mouth. He’s just a boy, now come on we gotta get to our class” What you didn’t notice was Bucky staring at you and your friends, a small smile etched onto his face.

Bad, bad boys Shiny toy with a price You know that I bought it

Throughout the week, you never saw Bucky again. It didn’t bother you, but you didn’t mind seeing that gorgeous face of his. Your class had just ended and it was time to go home. You were walking home when you heard someone shout behind you. You turned around to see Bucky, running towards you with a smile on his face. “Hey there doll” he said panting, trying to catch his breath. “Hello James, what is it?” He raised his eyebrow when you called him James, but excused it. “You’re such a pretty dame you know that” He said, smiling even bigger when he saw the blush take over your face.

“Thank you James, but you’re not here to tell me that are you?” “No doll, uh, I was wondering if you’d let me take you out sometime?” Your heart skipped a beat, but you doubted the words considering you’ve never talked to him before. “This ain’t a joke, is it James cause that wouldn’t be very nice” “No, I promise doll. Let me take you out” You looked up at his face and noticed the genuine look “Fine. This Friday after class, alright? I got Miss Jamie last” You left him on the side of the road, continuing your walk home, smiling and excited about your date.

Killing me slow, out the window I'm always waiting for you to be waiting below

It was Friday, and you were tapping your foot anxiously, waiting for the bell to ring out. “Remember, you all have to read Act 3 Scene 1 of the Great Gatsby by Monday’s class!” Miss Jamie told your class as the bell rang. Your heart was racing as you got your books in your arms and waited to get out the door. When you got out you could see Bucky’s head perk up, noticing you. He smiled, and you returned it with a shy one. “Hey doll, you ready?” He asked, holding out his hand for you to take. “Yeah James, lets go”

The two of you walked to the diner all the couples in high school went to, and sat down at a booth. The waiter approached your table and asked what the two of you would like “Can we have an all the way please” “Sure, that’ll be right out” You smiled at Bucky, but hesitating to ask the questions you’ve been dying to know. “James, can I ask why me? I mean you’ve never talked to me before” “Y/n, you’re the first person who didn’t go out of their way to talk to me. It gets tiring you know? But I can tell you’re a special one” You smiled at him and you two talked the day into the night, and the waiter could tell that the twi of you were already in love.

Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes What doesn't kill me makes me want you more

After that date, you and Bucky went on many more. Even during school Bucky would hold you by your waist, or when you’re going to your next class he’d sneak up on you and sneak a kiss leaving you blushing. You even met Bucky’s best friend, Steve Rogers, who was one of the most honest and kindhearted men you ever met. You met Steve’s dame as well, Peggy Carter, and the four of you quickly became a close knit group, doing everything together. Of course, you would ask to bring your best friends along, who quickly approved of Bucky seeing as he made you happy.

You went home that day and decided to tell your parents about your new partner. You opened the door and saw your mother sitting on the couch watching some television and your father who had come home early reading the day’s newspaper. “Hi darling, how was your day?” your mother asked approaching you and kissing your forehead. “It was great ma, hi papa” Your father said hi and smiled at you, patting the now empty seat besides him signaling for you to come sit. “Uh, ma, papa? I’ve been meaning to tell y’all something. I’m going out with James Barnes now” Your mom had a smile on her face, while your dad’s expression didn’t change. “Papa?” You asked, your voice quiet “I will not allow it, you’re still too young y/n” “Nonsense y/f/n, we met each other at the same time” Your mother butted in “I said I won’t allow it” He met your eyes, and you rushed out the door trying to get to Bucky’s as fast as you can. When you found him, you started crying and pulled him close to your chest. “Doll, hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, comforting you “My papa, he doesn’t want me seeing you. Say’s i’m too young to see people” you say in between tears. “I just wanted him to like you, James” “Hey doll, it gonna be alright. We’ll make it work, alright? I’d do anything for ya” You looked up at him, and pulled him down to meet your lips.

And it's new The shape of your body, it's blue The feeling I've got And it's ooh, whoa oh It's a cruel summer

Your school year had ended, meaning that the both of you were about to go to university now. You had gotten into Columbia considering both your parents were alumni, but Bucky on the other hand decided to enlist in the army. “Bucky, I swear you’re nuts” you walked across his room back and forth “Why would you do that? Why would you enlist in the army James?” Bucky winced. You had stopped calling him James, but rather Bucky so when you called him James he knew he was in trouble. “Doll, I thought you’d be more supportive of me” He said, dropping his head.

You fell silent, and went to sit beside him “I am proud of you Bucky, honest” “Then what is it, doll?” he asked voice breaking. You replied eyes full of tears for the unknown “I’m scared that one day, someone is gonna come knockin on my door and tell me that the last time I saw you was truly the last time. I’m scared that you’re gonna get shot and hurt, and you will spend the rest of your life upset over it. I’m scared that when I kiss you goodbye at the train station, its the last time i’ll ever kiss you and see you Buck. I’m just scared of loosin you” you admitted, tears streaming down your face. Bucky was crying as well know. He lifted your face to meet your eyes, and kissed you with as much vigor as he could. “Doll, no matter what, I will always come back home to you” You kissed him, not letting him go. And that night ended up with you two sleeping in each other’s arms.

It's cool That's what I tell 'em, no rules In breakable Heaven but Ooh, whoa oh It's a cruel summer With you

That entire summer, the both of you spent almost all of it together. Day after day, Bucky would take you out on a date sometimes with Steve and Peggy, but most times just the two of you. You enjoyed every moment you had with the love of your life, refusing to thing about when he get’s deployed. You enjoyed strawberry sundaes, and ferris wheels at the fair. You even went to the Stark Expo, where the both of you had the time of your lives. You had later found out from Steve that he had secretly enlisted in the army as well and got in. That night, you and Bucky yelled at Steve but later pulled him into a hug. “I swear to god punk if you hurt yourself” “I will personally come over and kill you Steve” you said jokingly. Steve chuckled “I promise I will be alright”

When Steve went home, Bucky and you went to the roof of his apartment and laid down watching the stars. “Darling, i’m leaving next week for the army” You got up and looked at Bucky “Buck, I thought it was the end of the summer?” “They needed us to do some extra training for the war darlin. I promise I will write to you everyday, not a chance i’d miss it” You scooted closer to him and put your head on his chest. “I’m countin on it James”

I'm drunk in the back of the car And I cried like a baby coming home from the bar (oh) Said, "I'm fine", but it wasn't true I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you And I, snuck in through the garden gate Every night that summer just to seal my fate (oh) And I screamed, "For whatever it's worth" "I love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?"

It was the week after you dropped Bucky off at the train station, and you missed him so much. He sent his first letter two days back, sending his dog tag along with it. He wrote,

Hi Doll,

Every night I lie awake thinkin of you darlin. There isn’t a day that goes by where you don’t cross my mind. I remember the first time we met, and I now know that that was the first day I fell in love with you. I fell in love with the strong, independent woman you are. I fell in love with kindhearted woman you are. I fell in love with you. I love you y/n y/l/n and I hope you love me too. I am giving you one of my dog tags so you always have something of mine to wear. I promise you when I come back, i’m marrying you doll. I know I should be telling you this in person but I feel the need to tell you know. I hope you have a great day doll. I miss you a lot.

Yours truly,

James (Bucky) Barnes

You felt a tear trail down your cheek as you held the dog tag close to your heart. It felt as if he was still there with you, and you murmured “I love you, Bucky Barnes” The two of you wrote for months on end, until one day an officer knocks on your door telling you that him and his regiment were captured by the opposing side. They called it Hydra. But you didn’t care for the name, you cried for Bucky and his safety. You missed him. You had also found out that Steve was injected with the serum and became plenty rugged. Meanwhile, you were at school continuing your studies like you know Bucky would’ve wanted you to do.

It's cool That's what I tell 'em, no rules In breakable Heaven but Ooh, whoa oh It's a cruel summer With you

You heard a knock on your door and went to open it. Standing in all his glory was the love of your life. You flung your arms around Bucky, smelling his cologne you grew to love. “Bucky, oh lord, I thought you died” you sobbed into his shoulder and pulled away to see his face. He smiled, caressing your face pulling you into a kiss. “Steve saved us, doll. I’m alright” “I love you Bucky, and whenever you choose to I will marry you” He smiled kissing you again as if it was the last time he could. The two of you spent the entire night surrounded by the others naked body, memorizing each and every curve and scar. When Bucky left again, you had a little more hope this time that he would come back to you. The letters never ended, until they did one day.

You heard a knock on your door, letting the person know you were coming. You opened the door to see a shattered looking Steve holding Bucky’s uniform. “Bucky, uh, fell off a train during a mission. Y/n, I tried to catch him but I couldn’t” Steve was sobbing, and you put a hand on your mouth not believing this cruel joke the universe played on you. “Oh Steve” The both of you held on to each other, the last piece of Bucky both of you had. Both of you mourned for the loss of a best friend, the loss of the love of your life.

A couple of weeks later, you went to the place Steve was at to surprise him. You saw Peggy and went over to her. “Hey Pegs, have you seen Steve” Her eyes started watering and she sighed before gaining her composure. “Captain Steve Rogers went down in the Arctic last week. I had assumed you had found out, but i’m sorry y/n. Steve’s gone” You were numb, you felt no pain. First the love of your life, and now your best friend. You went home that day and cried for the loss of America’s heroes. You mumbled to yourself, “It’s been a cruel summer with you, Bucky Barnes”.

slang used:

all the way: chocolate or fudge cake with ice cream

cute as a bug’s ear: very cute

doll and dame: a woman

nuts: crazy

#Bucky Barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #bucky x y/n #Steve Rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #avengers fanfiction

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opes-magnas · 4 years

Text

The Funeral

How would it be, if you could see your funeral unfold?

I can’t believe they let the casket be open! Gosh!

I can’t look at myself that way, of course no one wants to look at themselves devoid of life and rotting away but it was much more harder for me to be another entity (which I didn’t believe to exist) and just stand there letting my body lay there when I desperately want to wiggle into it, like a cosy blanket that covers your toes when it’s cold but sadly that’s what death means, its finality only hits you only after it scoops up your soul, from the tiny little nest in your body and sets it free, to float in the air, to become one with the soil, to flow like water, to burn like fire or attain peace if that’s what you were destined to for, be one with the most singular core of the universe, which I am yet to know because I’m still here.

With death also comes revelation of secrets which were hidden in plain sight that everyone looked for but never actually desired it or wanted it only for the sake of knowing it. It’s like that tiny voice inside your head which speaks to you and you know everyone also experiences the same thing but no one really speaks about it or wants to prove it.

Wow! death did make me philosophical which I never was, but now I’m not Scarlett Hamilton I’m just a lost soul detached from its anchor, I don’t even know why I’m here, but the weird part is I can still feel strong emotions towards all the people I loved or even hated, I can see my daughter crying a river out, those salty tears roll down like beads stringing along a long pearl necklace I once wore.

Yup, now it’s just getting started, maybe I have willed myself so hardly too able to witness the grandeur of the world just once last time before I go wherever I’m supposed to. So my metaphorical body’s shaking at the thought of being a spectator to my own funeral.

The service started and I was standing on top an empty chair in the last row, I saw my husband standing near the casket with my four other brothers. He’s still as handsome as the first time I laid my eyes on him, I still can’t believe that I landed him, he is like way out of my league.

Those deep blueish green eyes, which appear like the sea bed whenever sunlight hits on it at very specific angles and brings out this certain depth, a mystery, which I would try to unravel every time I gazed into them and one day while eating French toast in a small Parisian cafe I made a rather curious analogy to this one puzzle that I just couldn’t get right, a continuous clockwork ticking and every second it’s different and that can never be brought back and a mystical creature might pop out any moment and he laughed his wide goofy grin which made his dimples appear distinctly. His platinum blonde hair slightly below his ears almost caressing them lightly, I can still remember the way I used to run my fingers through it like it just happened this morning, oh! It did. I’m happy that was the last thing I did before you know, I died. The rippling of muscles can still be seen underneath that black suit he’s wearing, which I picked out for him to wear to the his big Oscar after party. Everything just feels so real yet so far away, I’m right here, but I’m a world away from him. I guess I felt this way when we had a big fight about well I don’t remember what and honestly it was stupid but we stopped talking and when I was sitting right next to him, I felt miles and miles away from him. It was the worst.

I’m longing to have another moment with him, just to tell him that I’ve loved him until my very last breath, literally, that no one else could ever have made more of an impact on my life other than him, and I just have so many things to do.

Funny, now I want to do so many things when I’ve wished to die like a thousand times or probably even tried to. But now since I’m really dead all I want to do is live another moment.

Shaking off the deathly feeling, yeah now I’m definitely in the second stage of grieving, “the acceptance”.

The service started with the father saying some kind words about how I always was such a big donator to the church funds, honestly I did it because I didn’t know what to do with the money I had, it might come of snobbish but that was the truth. Now I’m being applauded for an act I did, not in the intention everyone believes it was done.

Now, I wish was more spiritual than I was, to actually believe there is something out of reach which I thought wasn’t possible cos the motto I always believed in was, ‘There are no boundaries to the knowledge you can unearth. Science can become quite lonely, even when you’re the most alone, if you could just believe you have one other person with you, God, it would be so splendiferous just to never be alone.

Focus, you insipient fool, focus! these are your last moments on this beautiful world, you’ll probably be eternally damned to the meadows of asphodel to have time to ponder upon the tiny nuances of life, right now take in as much as you can, you probably won’t remember Darcy, Ophelia, Zoheth or for that matter Zeke when you leave.

Then, my best friend walked up to the podium, I could the rivers of mascara gushing down, unrestrained, like the mighty rivers, sparing no one who stood in the way, right now the only things that stood in the way were tiny mountains of acne, pimples which were barely visible, but as she always said I was omnipercepient, but that was arrogant on my behalf to actually believe it deep down.

Euphemia, ‘the well-spoken off’, ‘the one who martyred for what she believed in’, is actually what her name means, and I was always awed like how her parents could have even the slightest clue that she would one day live up to the glory that her name had already bestowed on her.

Somebody, in some late night show once asked me to describe Euphemia as a scent. I sat baffled for a minute, because I thought of her as this limitless person who couldn’t be bound by timidity of just words but I did try my best.

I distinctly remember the first time all of my green roses (that’s something I call my gang as, I identified each of them with these characters from Oscar Wilde’s books the first time I met them, and I do hope someone gets this reference for once)

We went hiking to the grand canyon, we climbed uphill all day long soaked with perspiration, but when we reached the peak, I had to remind myself to breathe as I felt so awed by nature, like those slightly purple pink rock mountains rising majestically as in a challenge to the sky, splitting the clouds into an shards of glass when they’re broken, but reflecting the dazzling light in all its glory all across, in every colour I could ever imagine about, huge trees appeared like chess pawns moved here and there by the will of these cordilleras, I just relished every moment I saw this marvellous creation.

Then at night we lit this bonfire, which emanated a strange crackling and pungent smell at first but it soon felt so familiar. Warm and fuzzy that I felt I’ve been discerning this forever. That is how I think Euphemia would be if I could ever convert her essence into a scent.

She pursued her full lips, biting the inside of her cheek, knotting her overly expressive eyebrows into this broken bridge, contracting her face into a lemon being squeezed out of its limit, I could feel the turmoil she was in just by glancing at her. She gripped the mic with her freshly manicured nails and began to speak in a tone I’ve heard her use only a few times.

“Scar, I wish you were here with me…. umm I don’t know what you would want me to say though we talked about every single thing on earth, being the twisted sisters 2.0, but we weren’t dark to begin with.

As you always said, with every end there is a new beginning, as today marks the end of your mortal life here, I so want to reminisce the beginning we had which some might say is odd but we were never normal to begin with.”

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I was walking towards me to be dorm, on broken cobblestones, just thinking of how small electrons can be and walked up the creaky wooden stairs and reached ROOM 27 , and I knocked the door and heard a ‘come in’ and dragged my two very huge suitcases in to see her standing there.

She scuffled over in her very high heels thumping methodically against the floor and when I was just about to measure its oscillation period with my pulse rate, she hugged me.

I’m not hugger nor am I a “people person”, so I responded with an awkward side hug and my face buried in her brown curls cascading down to her shoulders.

You must be Scarlet, the genius whiz kid! Hi, I’m Euphemia Clarke, I’m an undergrad in English lit, women studies and philosophy. So?

Umm… I’m scarlet Hamilton, I’m a grad in theoretical and quantum physics and English lit.

But, your of my age, how could you be a grad student? Yeah, I forgot momentarily that I’m in the presence of the next greatest scientist here, ooh we’ll be buddies in English lit. But why English lit? It seems like an odd choice for a science person to be interested in... And your also doing a double degree... what can’t you do! I must bagged the lottery in roommates cos you’re just a dream to be with and ooh nice dress huh... Zara 2018...chic, edgy and makes a statement... thank God! You have a nice taste, I couldn’t possibly live with a horrible makeover gone wrong nincompoop, I would just die a thousand deaths before that.

Uhhh...

Yeah?

Um... I should get settled in, then I might have to go and take a tour of the library, it’s pretty huge and also do some other admin stuff, so I guess I’ll see then.

Shut up, I’m going to help, it literally took an army for my room to be done, I came like 2 days early just to do some painting work, what colour do you like? We could...

My head kept spinning and jumping on ropes just to catch up with her, all I could hear was an echo of words and she did a graceful swirl and smiled at me, “we’re going to be just fine.”

I had the chance to then observe her like I did everyone, a “perfect body” some magazines would say, slender, about 5’2, a brunette with deep green eyes , her eyebrows deserved an award for all the jumps, somersaults, backbends they did and her smile made me feel like I was tasting honey on a warm summer afternoon at centennial park.

I certainly can’t be friends with her, she’s one of the high and mighty sorority girls who went on a shopping spree to Dior, Chanel and Marc Jacobs and spent like $500,000 dollars buying a pair of fur coats and heels and wanted to become a socialite fluttering at parties being ‘the pretty one’ and marry some rich guy and came to colleges like Yale only cos ‘daddy’ paid whoever was looking at her essays to look the other way.

God! Am I judgmental?

(Some months of awkward conversations later)

We were walking to English lit together and she was strutting like a Ralph Lauren model on a runway in ridiculously high heels and just took my hand in hers and gave it a squeeze without even looking at me and held the door open.

Today we were discussing about ‘Pride and Prejudice’ and because I’ve almost read the book a hundred times I was very excited to what kind of discussion we were going to have, I have looked at the book from my perspective which is can vary from a hopeless romantic to a strong feminist depending on what kind of mood I’m in, I want to see the book how a person who doesn’t believe in love, feminism, freedom sees it, obviously I will take it offensively but my curiosity multiplies by the second.

She and I spilt as we walked into the class, she went towards the back.

I found my seat in the middle of the amphitheater like classroom, which I think was chosen for English literature class specifically just to add that glamour, majesty and that extra pinch of drama that old English prose gives off. Clever.

Ms. Dalloway started reading the book, which opens with an immortal statement, “It is truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of good fortune must in want of a good wife.” Why don’t we kick the class of by a discussion on this iconic statement? Anyone up for the challenge?

Aah. Scarlet, not you again, I sincerely hope the next time you will allow the other nitwits here to use the fragments of their brains left. But, go on, you certainly are the person to speak about this book.

I think what that sentence means in plain English is that any man who is rich and handsome wants a trophy wife just to look at him as if he’s the greatest and adore him like a silly schoolgirl and basically smother and mother him and nurse his big giant ego.

I think this sentence is truly aptly describes how the society was and is, women are always reduced to matter of objects traded between men and valued only for looking pretty and being a social butterfly and the main goal in their life is to be a human incubators or rather baby machines. On a more serious and highly unfair note of beauty standards, however ugly the man is, he wanted a small waisted, thin, fair maiden from a “good family”. I mean women almost killed themselves trying to please men, wearing those corsets as tight their lungs could probably burst, lead powder as kohl and what not, just so men could feel valued, I don’t know even they even knew what self-respect meant. Jane Austen is a genius, she almost gave a jist of her novel in the very first sentence.

I don’t think she is the right person to speak about this book, Ms. Dalloway, she has only the view of a feminist, when one talks about a book, and it must be from an unbiased view.

All heads turned towards who spoke, even I was surprised that Euphemia could even think about anything other than her Manolo Blanik pink lacy heels she bought yesterday.

I think this story is totally unrelatable, yes I am a woman but it didn’t make it any easier for me to relate to it, I mean like everyone sees Miss Bennet as a prime example of Feminism, strength and how women can make their own way and stand by the things they believe in. But, she is as shallow, narrow as the other women and a big bully. She makes fun of Mr.Bingley because he is isn’t tall, handsome when she herself believes that women must not be judged for their external beauty. Men and women having equal opportunities, isn’t that what feminism means, and isn’t she being a huge hypocrite when she is going against the very ideals she believes in? She also mocks Caroline, who calls her family out on their shit. So, that makes her exactly the same as the others.

That was when I knew she would be my best friend.

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“Yeah and that’s how I knew she would be my best friend, because she stood by what she believed in, actually it is funny my name means the saint who married for what she believed in and her name means wealth and both of us embodied what each other meant and then had an epiphany that we could be what we were meant to be since we were born by looking at each other.”

I will be eternally grateful to Scarlet for making me more than a pretty girl, a woman who was a force of nature, who couldn’t be stopped by these insipid little men. I love you my dear, I always have. The only regret I have is I didn’t say it as often as I wished to. I love you, you have left an everlasting scar on my heart.”

Oh, Mia, I know, I know…

I saw her walk down the aisle and I remembered the day I walked her down the aisle to her husband and she looked at me and told, “You have left an everlasting scar on my heart.”

She looked at Zeke and nodded and went and sat next to Jake who kissed her cheek ever so tenderly and squeezed her shoulders just like I used to and she broke.

Many others spoke, like my mum, whose sentences weren’t distinguishable because of her crying and how God should have taken her instead, and it is so terrible to live after your child had died and looking at my face which was full and pink now shrivelled and almost passed out just to be caught by Papa, who couldn’t look her in the eye.

Mama always loved me dearly, I was the only girl out of 4 boys who were tough, burly and never asked for a kiss and a hug before running off to school, chatted with her late in the night explaining how she saw the world from her tiny green emeralds for her eyes and asked her flaming red hair to be combed into braids and always was willing to hear family gossip.

Well, papa wasn’t as warm and gooey as mum but he loved me , I knew it when he was hard on me to study better even when I got straight A’s and had skipped grades but didn’t give my brothers a twat when they scored less than adequate. He believed in me, which is more than I ever could ask for.

Maybe my cold and hard side was because of him, I was very analytical and logical and never let my emotions interfere with my decisions except when I said yes to my husband.

I never said this thought out loud, not even thought about it to myself, I was never a warm and gooey person who went around telling people how much I loved them, so it comes as quite a shock to me that I could even think of it. Maybe death brings finality to little things that were left out.

Saying the word still gives me chills, which reminds me again that we are never ready for things unless forced upon us. Whoever thinks they are ‘ready’ for life, they mostly never are, I never was.

My children came up, Darcy held Ophelia and Zoh like a fierce lioness protecting her cubs, I knew I raised her right, she took the mic and started speaking so confidently, she turned her steel grey eyes and looked right at me, a sharp light baring through my soul, almost as if she could see me and nodded her head right at me.

“Sorry, mum I haven’t shed a tear for you, even though the cessation of this hasn’t quite hit me yet, but I could see the differences already, nobody told if this black dress was appropriate or if my looked okay and Ophy and Zoh relied on me completely. I am sorry, but I know you never expected me to cry, but I think I know well enough to tell you expected me to be great. I still remember you whispering in my ear, before I entered Harvard, “Be Great or Nothing”, and those words were repeated by me in the break of dawn every day. You were what I wanted to be, independent, brave, most of all I was grateful to God to be blessed with the lottery in genetics. So, ma, that’s what I’m going to be, great.”

I saw the way her eyes sparkled with fear, fierceness almost as if her heart had broken into a million pieces yet she was holding it together not for the sake of putting on a show, but for herself. All I could do was smile, a huge grin actually, all the time I wanted them to be ordinary people, but she proved me wrong, greatness runs inn our blood.

Zoh and Ophelia, my little babies, I wasn’t worried about them either, they did cry though but chanted this one sentence together, “ Vincit qui se vincit .” and the three of them bowed before my casket, touched my feet, an intense bolt and I could hear them whisper together, non-duco ,duco.

An intense bolt of lightning shot through me, I looked at my arms they became almost transparent now. I could feel myself fading away, being sucked into but, I was ready to go before hearing his voice one last time.

My children, I was proud of myself to have raised them, but I looked at the sky above me and thanked the Gods for giving such Brave and strong humans into me. Thank you, thank you.

I was so lost in the maternal glory and satisfaction, I didn’t notice Zeke passing out on the podium before he even uttered a word.

He slowly swayed down, his eyelids shutting down on his beliquent violet eyes gleaming with distress and grief, his hands went upwards in a dramatic manner and his knees buckled down and landed with a thud on the floor, out of habit his eyes frantically searched the room for me before giving out a guttural scream in my name.

Suddenly, everything moved so slowly, people sauntered about as glaze leisurely dripped of a cake, none could hear me screaming, scratching and pushing past everyone to hold him.

The next thing I remember is sitting in a rushing ambulance moving like those cars in video games, twishing and twashing around other vehicles but never actually touching them. I could feel his heartbeat getting fainter and fainter and his hand grappling to my side. I put all the strength I had left in me to push his intense desire to be with me.

The doctors were speaking in a feverish pitch and everyone was so focused on saving him, my reality jilted and I was back in the Lake District National Park, the glacial ribbon like water was still the same, where the sky kissed the tip of peak Windermere who was stretching into the sky, looking for lost love, the purple pink flowers scattered around, the manifestation of temptation, no one resisted in plucking them out ,, the reflection trees into the almost ice like water gleamed like crystals, miles and miles of grass stretching infinitely and in it were a thousand insects, chirping and hooting and going by their lives not knowing the amount of tragedy that has befallen the world and a plaid picnic spread over with all my favourites which included my person.

I remember this day, the day of my betrothal to my beloved.

Ezekiel, the same serene look on his face, his mouth puckered into a smile that tugged at his dimples, his platinum hair swaying the wind and his hands beckoning me towards, as much as I wanted to go, I stood rooted where I was. Even if I moved an inch, I somehow became aware of the repercussions, the loss of his life, the more intense his desire to stay with me, the less will he has to live.

Dr.Burke once said, “With all medical realities being equal, why does one person live and another die? I believe there is a mind, body and spirit connection.”, if Zeke doesn’t want to live, no matter how much the odds that favour him, his body will defy everything to be with, me.

Our love, was the kind of love that came around once in a lifetime, the pure love which doesn’t expect anything in return but just loves not because of the looks but because of the thoughts, the feelings and mostly the heart. I loved Zeke with every inch of my body, every cell in my being and it tears my heart to leave him alone, but I won’t be selfish today. He still has a lot left to do, his time hasn’t come yet, and death hasn’t knocked upon his door so I’m not going to slip the key to it.

He smiled, “Scarlett, my sun, my moon and stars, come, please. You know why, I can’t live another minute knowing you’re not there to lay my head upon your lap and talk about how our day went, or to see your chest collapse and fall with every breath, the comfort it gives me, just in knowing your alive . No, no, no!!”

I know, but you must always remember that I will be live as long as there is a place for me in your heart, I will live in those times your remember me and smile, I will live in those moments where you and the kids look up to the sky and say my name, I will live as long you draw breath, do you wish to kill my legacy? Do you? Go back Ezekiel, go back, I will wait for you.

His face contorted into a fit of rage, sorrow, despair and he walked near me and starting thrashing wildly, kicking his arms and legs in all inhumanly directions, screaming, yelling and when I looked into his eyes and gave him one last look, he stretched his arm out to lightly touch my fingertips and whispered,” Goodbye, my love, I will live for you.” as he knelt before me the same way he did that day.

I felt myself being swirled into a whirlpool of light, stretching me into long into infinite bounds, suddenly filled with power and just the feeling of being complete and then darkness enveloped everywhere.

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— Whoosh, a gust of wind blew over his face, almost caressing him. —

His eyelids fluttered open just a little, just enough to a peek at what is around him.

“Where am I? “

Daddy, you fainted at mum’s... umm... funeral and had a heart attack on the way, but now you’re okay, I sent Ophelia and Zoheth home, they persisted to stay but they had to go to school, that’s what mum would have wanted. You were muttering something in your sleep about seeing mum... Did you actually see her?

Yes, I did, she convinced me to stay. Go home, and take rest, you need to get back to college, remember what we promised mom? We are going to keep our word. Go.

She came and hugged him and gave a toothy grin and said,” Yes.” and closed the door behind her.

Thoughts flooded Zeke’s mind, he could remember clearly what happened at the lakes, and he knew what he was going to do. He clutched at his wedding ring and gazed outside his window knowingly. Even dead, Scarlet had made him a better man.

Scarlett I hope your happy.

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“What I want in my life is willing to be dazzled, to be cast aside by the weight of facts and maybe even float a little above this difficult world.” ~ M.O.

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Love,

Lady Lazarus

(picture and prompt from: pinterest)

#writeblr #writeblr community #mystery #supernatural #oneshot #i feel like an old lady #technology man #its great #lady lazarus

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yue-muffin · 4 years

Text

Time Raiders (2016)

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

This hellsite turns the images into POTATO quality but ah well, here we go. Into the tomb!

P A R T T W O

He’s a puppy!! Everyone in the family wants to protect him from this business, but here Uncle Three goes ‘eh, might as well’. This boy has no idea what he’s doing. At least Zhang Qiling is here to protect him, because in what world does he not?

Lovely scenery!

Wu Xie…he’s such a nerd. But I relate, I would also use random facts I know from school to start a conversation, my mom probably hates me for it haha. It’s sort of obnoxious coming from some people (me…especially in undergrad). I love it when Wu Xie goes on a ramble tangent though.

We’re really going straight for the throat with the “lookin the mirror because you don’t know who you are” thing, aren’t we. Aw, then he gives a little pout.

These subs are really decent grammar-wise, but LOL at them just giving up on translating Zhang Qiling’s nickname: 闷油瓶 (sullen oil bottle), apparently referring to the way he doesn’t like to talk. It’s a cute nickname but it’s so hard to translate. Some have gone with Poker-face, which I think is the best one you can get in English.

HAHA WU XIE. This kid. I looked up 安静 and the dictionary gives me “quiet, calm, peaceful”. He’s not really quiet, he is rather calm in that he doesn’t flip out easily, but he has such puppy energy that it’s hard to use that descriptor for him. But confirmation that he thinks Zhang Qiling is a handsome man.

Aw, there’s our Wu Xie. It’s funny because he’s so annoyed with Zhang Qiling in the first volume of the novel when he doesn’t respond to Wu Xie’s attempts to be friendly, he always refers to him with a bit of scorn. But, well, it’s a super slow burn relationship (I’m talking platonic, since that’s fully canon and I can turn my shipping goggles off lol) and we don’t have that kind of time in live action adaptations. I do have to say, I like the drama and movie for changing that dynamic a little - if not, it detracts from Wu Xie’s image as an innocent, naive young man, probably.

Oh my fucking god his finger is on the trigger THIRD UNCLE WHY DID YOU BRING THIS KID WITH YOU. Well, that marks the first Zhang Qiling rescuing Wu Xie (from himself…this dumbass) of the movie haha.

Oh he took the bullet out ok that’s better. Ha! Wu Xie is a little imp still.

You just gave Zhang Qiling an heart attack, Wu Xie, hope you’re happy.

This kid. If he wasn’t so stoic, he’d have rolled his eyes. You can just see it in his soul.

Oh ok, we’re getting a flashback to Third Uncle scolding Wu Xie that’s better. I thought he really was that irresponsible to just go “ok sure!”

He looks so sad. It’s the puppy eyes, I’m telling you. That’s how he always gets his way lol.

So he has a dream that weighs heavily on him, but is it worth risking your life in an actual tomb for?

Smooth, he redirects Zhang Qiling’s question right back at him - why do you want to go to the tomb? I love it, he’s still got that mouth on him.

Ooh so they did end up using the periodic amnesia part of his character. And his insecurities about whether he truly exists in the world.

These looks they give each other. They’re so soft. Aahh (shipper me is back). Aww. “Don’t worry, I’ll record them with my camera. You won’t be lost.” So there is a purpose for making photography part of his character. I like using the camera and mirrors as motifs.

“If I come or go, who cares.” I GUARANTEE YOU SOMEONE WILL.

More scenery for the record!

These shots really drive home what he just said: the world is so big, what’s one person in light of it all?

…Never change Wu Xie, never change. This is why everyone wants to protect him, because he says things like this. You’ll protect him?? Haha I remember when he said something like this in TLT2. It was so endearing. But also you just want to die laughing. But that is what makes Wu Xie, Wu Xie. Even in the first book, he cared and worried about Xiaoge’s whereabouts whereas everyone else was like “nah, he’s probably fine”.

HAHA WAIT. Third Uncle you are responsible.

Is this a prison transport truck why can it lock someone inside so easily.

This is so funny.

Oh no it’s the foreigners!! “You’ll be safer in the truck” they said.

It’s Pangzi and Ah Ning!

I still really miss TLT2 Ah Ning, I can only imagine that one in my head now haha.

I don’t understand why she had to climb on the side of the truck just to sit on the hood. Also, wear something a little more protective in the chest area if you’re gonna go tomb raiding it drives me absolutely crazy that women must always be so underdressed just for that male gaze.

You’ve got some good reception considering where you are. Her accent doesn’t make my ears bleed which is a good thing.

Oh-hoho he’s catching onto your little spy cam! IMPOSSIBLE haha that’s everyone’s reaction upon seeing Zhang Qiling after xx years looking the exact same.

And we’re in! Cue the greedy tomb robbers who touch things and get into trouble the second they enter the place. No deaths yet though…still too early.

-DO YOU SPEAK ZHONGWEN (Chinese)?

-*whisper* Chinese.

-CHINESE.

?? I’M DYING. This part is such comedy gold.

Yup that’s Pangzi, I think I’ve heard this one in other DMBJ adaptations but I don’t remember which one.

I’m pretty sure the tomb needs a key…which you have, Third Uncle…

Don’t worry, Zhang Qiling is here to help! As always, he tends to trounce everyone with the most mundane items even though the enemy is carrying heavy duty weapons.

Is something to happen to the beams? First a bracket fell off, now the camera focused on it briefly.

This Zhang Qiling is so low-key funny even though he doesn’t intend to be. They really said “how can we show Zhang Qiling being even more badass” by having him use the cloth as a distraction, then have it fall over his shoulders when it lands.

I also like how he never has any stupid qualms about fighting a woman. Oh he spoke English! Haha. “Not bad.” “I know.”

This Zhang Qiling.

Ah Ning pulling that gun out of her sleeve was real badass. I love how she’s the only one who actually gets hand-to-hand fighting and everyone else in her team just shoots from afar. She’s the team leader and boy does she deserve it. You go, Ah Ning!

Haha they are pretty good! Even set a trap.

Oh, Wu Xie got out of the truck.

Again, kudos to this Wu Xie for actually recording the stuff he sees in tombs.

Why am I laughing so hard right now haha. Look at his hands patting Zhang Qiling’s. His hands are a lot thinner now that they’re right up next to each other.

So high tech what is this haha.

What is my name? Wu Xie did you think he was an imposter or-

Aw, helping him check for his amnesia acting up haha. This kid.

Look at this smile. How can you hate him, it’d be like kicking a puppy. But also, he says the darnedest things. And Zhang Qiling gives a little laugh and a smile! See?

Gotta snap a picture of the bf.

Aww, nice music to go with the “hey you’re alright, proper introduction time” part. And they share a laugh, too.

GUYS YOU HAVE A KEY FOR A REASON?? If the darn thing isn’t turning, maybe you shouldn’t force it and try another method??

Wow they really went for the gore on this movie. Even got some nice blood splats when the thing clamps close. That’s not horrifying at all, nope.

Haha first trap you, the cut off the arm with a guillotine!

As always, Zhang Qiling to the rescue! But yikes is that one heavy duty sword.

Was it smart to light the ball on fire. I see statues holding crossbows that is not a good sign. This is a pretty imaginative way to light up a room though!

I love this Zhang Qiling.

The female statue is rather good looking?? It’s a statue?? And it looks downright creepy, not beautiful or sexy.

Oh no. They touched stuff in the tomb.

It’s a guy who has been dead for hundreds of years. What did you expect it to look and sound like.

Oh fuck no the eyes moved I hate it when this happens!!

Do you also see all the wires rigged to it or is that just me. And they’re holding CROSSBOWS. Now the HEADS MOVED I CAN’T.

There’s no corpse in the coffin great. And now the puppets are playing instruments. This is not disturbing.

COVER YOUR EARS. It’s too late!! Now everyone’s hallucinating, great.

Oh, she’s pretty! But don’t trust her!!

But why did Wu Xie get trapped in that dream of his, while everyone else is hallucinating that they’re still in the tomb.

A decent CGI lion for once? As long as it just stands there it looks fine.

And there goes Zhang Qiling’s magic blood!

It’s super effective! Oh, so he has to spill some blood for each person who is effected by the illusion? Yeah, no one say Zhang Qiling doesn’t care. He’s willing to spill enough blood to pass out (Book 1/TLT1), for all these dumbasses who probably had no business being in a tomb anyways with how they go about it and get themselves into mortal danger.

Yes, Wu Xie, be the voice of reason and protect him from your uncle and his friends. He could’ve left you guys to go crazy if he really did have malicious intentions. But he cut himself to save you, geez. Show some appreciation.

This is a pretty fun trap, gotta say. Wu Xie figured out the rhythm.

Don’t lie, he was definitely worried about Wu Xie, but haha turns out he’s not completely helpless. Just compare picture 1 to picture 2 lol.

HA KNEW IT. THE CROSSBOWS ARE NEXT.

Haha I love it how Zhang Qiling always preferentially helps Wu Xie up or worries about him, to the point Pangzi in Reboot/Chongqi doesn’t even really comment on it anymore.

Someone’s gonna end up dead at some point I’m just waiting for that ball to drop.

HAHAHA I’m howling.

Everyone falls on their asses and crashes into stuff. Zhang Qiling falls into a crouch A+ landing. Wu Xie?

Of course Zhang Qiling catches him. There always has to be a scene where Zhang Qiling holds Wu Xie in his arms, no matter the adaptation, haha. Is this the one for this version?

Of course it’s insects.

I QUIT? Everyone is looking for a way out, ok, you literally cannot quit until you get out of here.

Oh ew the bugs are here of course.

Aww that’s the Wu Xie we know. He wants to save people, always.

THE BUGS CAN EAT METAL. That surpasses “flesh-eating” ok.

Aw, look at his face. Poor boy. I didn’t think I’d grow this fond of Lu Han!Wu Xie.

This is why one person from your family died a month when you were a kid. Welp, that’s one person down.

Zhang Qiling hurting himself again to save their butts. In this adaptation it doesn’t seem that his blood repels so much as hurts creatures outright though, which is far less useful than his evil creature repellant in the dramas.

Lol, dude he even had to help you get your feet up on that metal thing.

WU XIE TRIES OK. He tries really hard. But it’s his first time in a tomb and he’s got more guts than half the people here ok.

SO YOU DECIDE TO PLAY THE FLUTE??

Always record Zhang Qiling’s smiles ok. He was so worried Wu Xie was going to be mooched alive by the bugs. I guess that’s why he can’t have the bug repellant blood in this adaptation lol. If he did, it would’ve helped a lot.

Oh, sure, now the foreigners come in.

You. You might have blown up the only exit??

Good thing your brains, Wu Xie, showed up after all, huh.

Option 1: Dig a hole!!

Option 2: Smash your way through!

How is he doing this haha. Zhang Qiling is too OP.

Aww, see, this is why their relationship across the franchise is so good?? Zhang Qiling in the books especially is so much of a badass, he always is ok and always wins, but it doesn’t matter how many times he escapes death. Wu Xie always cares and worries about leaving without him.

What’s with the awful weather outside lol.

Next Up: more tomb shenanigans!

#time raiders #image heavy post #the muffin's liveblogging adventures

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logansanderslove · 5 years

Text

Logan 3.0 (1/?)

CO-AUTHOR: @demented-dukey

Summary: Remus is an incorrigible flirt, and Logan can only bear the innuendo for so long until something has to give. Passions erupt, but there are more lasting repercussions than either could have predicted, including a significant transformation to Logan himself! How will these new changes affect the delicate balance of Thomas's mental state? When a new dark side threatens the lives of several of the other sides, will Logan and Remus's love be strong enough to save everyone, including Thomas?

Ships: INTRULOGICAL

Sanders Sides: Logan, Remus, Thomas, Roman, Virgil, Patton, Deceit

Fic type: Drama, Romantic, Action, Flirty

Trigger Warnings: No character deaths, but a lot of very close calls. Consensual knife play and bloodplay, and lots of bloody fighting and monster attacks. If you’re sensitive to unsympathetic characters, some parts flirt pretty close to that, but there’s also a lot of extenuating circumstances to explain the situation, and there’s a happy ending once you get through the angst and misunderstandings. Self-harm and references to such, and suicidal tendencies.

MASTERLIST

Chapter 1: Witty Banter

Logic and Bad Creativity had been disputing all day, and as late as it was now, it didn't seem like they were going to stop any time soon.

Logan crossed his arms as he leaned against the stairs in the common area, staring nonchalantly at the Dark Side before him. “You don’t get to me in the slightest, Remus. You never have. Object impermanence renders you pretty unintimidating.”

Remus smirked in his regular cocky way, suggestively stroking the ninja star that he held in his hands. “Is that so, Nerdy Wolverine?” His voice was smooth and unbothered.

Logan nodded. “Yes, it IS, you foul and infatuated goat.” He spat, but Remus just smiled.

“Ooh, thank you for the metaphorical regards! ‘Foul’ and ‘goat-like’ is what I’m going for!” he said, clapping his hands excitedly. “I thought it might be a fun change from the pickled poo logs.”

Logan frowned, rather frustrated that his attempted insult had backfired. “Ah. I see. Would it bother you then if I were to call you nice and harmless? Cherubic? How about spritely? Were I to call you caring and loving, especially towards your brother, would that bother you, Remus?” He remarked, but Remus just shrugged off the innuendo and giggled.

“I love how hard you try, it’s so cute!” he cooed. He then approached the logical side, letting his fingertips slide down Logan’s tie suggestively. “If you’re interested, I’d be happy to provide you a personal show of just how loving I can be?” He said with a wink and a dirty grin.

Logan forced a smile as he ignored Remus' suggestive actions. “Well, while that offer is certainly tempting, Remus, I am going to have to decline. I’m not exactly sure how I would put up with your lunacy, and I also doubt that the others would find this offer very… acceptable.” He stated, bringing a scoff from Remus.

“Those spoilsports would never have to know,” he winked at Logan. “I can be covert if you’d like.”

Logan gave him a dead-eyed stare. “Can you? Well, Remus, as I said before, all I would ever do is figuratively dress you down. That is all.”

Remus’ eyes lit up. “OH! Well, if that’s what you wanted, Logan,” he unzipped his pants. “You could’ve just said so!”

Logan shook his head, holding up his hand. “AH AH AH AH. I said, FIGURATIVELY. And that is why I say it. That. Is. Why. I. Say. It!” He clapped his hands with each word. He let out a deep breath. "I don't just spout random words without meaning!! I say things for a reason!"

Remus’s expression fell into a frown, and he slowly zipped his pants back up. “Poopy...” he muttered sadly.

Logan groaned. "Oh, stop pouting. It’s not a good look for a royal man. Even if that man is you.”

Remus perked up, mood swinging as wildly as a pendulum, “Aw, Logan, you notice my looks? I’m flattered!” He said joyously.

Logan’s ears flushed a bit, realizing his mistake all too late. “No, I don’t. I just don’t exactly see a grown man whining and pouting as a productive thing to be doing.” He restated.

“It can be very productive to make a grown man whine if you’re doing it right,” Remus smirked, leering at him.

Logan’s face immediately went red. “That is not what I meant and you KNOW IT.” He defended quickly.

Remus shrugged, hands held up defensively, a big smile across his face. “Perhaps. Much like your lascivious thoughts, I just love showing up where I’m not invited,” he punctuated his words with a quick shimmy.

Logan’s eyes shot open. “WHA-” His flustered mind tried to find the words. “‘Lascivious’?! What on Earth would ever lead you to say that I, the VOICE OF REASON, would ever have such provocative thoughts?!” He spluttered, then he took a long breath, managing to calm himself. “And in all honesty, I believe that we are used to you showing up where you’re not invited by now, Remus. In fact, you just showing up is exactly that, because no one ever wants to invite you.” He snarked.

Remus tilted his head. “Deny it all you want, Neil deGrASS Tyson. You can’t block out all the juicy stuff.” He cooed with a little dance of sexual innuendo.

Logan put a hand to his face, groaning. “Please do not say ‘juicy’ in that context ever again.”

Remus opened his mouth, held up his finger, then clicked his tongue. “...Juicy butthole?” He questioned, to which Logan just froze, then let out an exasperated breath.

“REMUS. THAT IS WORSE.”

Remus frowned. “Did...did I say something wrong? Are you...are you gonna punish me, Teach?” He wondered, just bringing another sigh from Logan.

“Remus, why do you insist on trying to bother me?”

Remus ran his fingers over his mustache. “It’s no bother, I assure you! I’m only trying to help, you seem so tense, my dear disciplinarian.”

Logan adjusted his glasses with a breath. “I am told that I always seem that way. Whilst, in fact, I am very relaxed.”

Remus flicked his eyebrows up. "Like the eye of a storm? You should let the tempest rage sometimes…” He slunk closer. “And I don’t mind getting a little wet.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “You, sir, are despicable.”

Remus stuck his tongue out. “I like to call myself de-lickable.”

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose. “NO.” He said sternly.

Remus put a finger to his chin in a suggestive manner. “Ooh, I love it when you raise your voice. Please, sir, what are your demands?” He drawled out.

Logan’s face sported the most unamused expression. “That you stop flirting with me. Don’t assume that I’m not aware of what you’re trying to do.”

Remus licked his lips. “Skip the appetizer and jump straight into the main course? As you wish!” He tore off his shirt as easily as lifting a feather. Logan’s eyes went wide and he waved his hands frantically.

“NO. NO, NO, NO. PUT YOUR SHIRT BACK ON RIGHT NOW, REMUS, OR I WILL SUMMON DECEIT TO REIGN YOU IN.” He ordered.

“Kinky! If you wanted a threesome, count me in! I LOVE being given two D’s at once!” Remus winked at him again, a seemingly regular occurrence. “My safe word is ‘apples’.” He then laughed. “I’m just kidding! I don’t have a safe word!”

Logan grabbed at his hair with an aggravated groan. “NO! REMUS, STOP! STOP THIS INCESSANT MADNESS!” He exclaimed desperately, to which Remus drew back a bit.

“Careful, Teach. Your calm is wearing a bit thin. I’d be happy to ruffle more than your feathers if you know what I mean…” He flirted.

The intellectual let out a deep breath. “I-” He couldn’t even make a sound other than angry flustered noises. “Please stop…” He finally got out, spinning away as he shook his head.

Remus hesitated, then he shrugged. “I changed my mind. I’m unpredictable like that, I don’t think you could handle all this,” he said as he shimmied. He then pulled his shirt back over his head gracefully. “Free show’s over. Wasted on you, anyways. You’re obviously too much of a brainiac to appreciate more physical pleasures.”

Logan rubbed his face with his hands. “Remus, please…” His voice was exasperated.

Remus’ voice became skeptical. “Had a change of heart? Doesn’t seem like that’s in your purview.”

Logan shook his head with a sigh. “No, Remus, that is not what I am trying to say.” He whirled around, his tolerance almost worn through. “Why are you so fascinated with ME? Why not go bother your brother or something? Why are you flirting with me?” He questioned, a tired tone to his voice.

Remus was quiet for a moment, eyeing Logan slowly. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. You’re a smart boy, Logan. Brilliant, even. Is it any wonder that I can’t look away from your brilliance?” A kind smile was offered. “You shine so brightly. You can hardly blame a moth for being attracted to the flame.”

Logan blinked in surprise, trying to process what he had just heard. “Wh-...You truly think of me so highly? I…” He didn’t know what to say.

Remus shrugged. “The others make it quite clear that they consider me below you all. How else could a lowly creature such as myself look upon you, but as if atop a pedestal?” He wondered.

Logan was still struggling to process this, but when he heard Remus’ statement, he suddenly realized something. “Remus, I… I have never considered you lower than anyone. I know that we all play our own parts, and no one is below anyone else.” He bit his lip. “As much as I sometimes despise your thinking, you are still an imperative part of our existence. You are Roman’s other half. If you were neglected, Roman would suffer. I have always valued your input, as odd as it can be. It is creativity in your own, unique way.”

He glanced to the side. “You… you shouldn’t feel like you have to annoy us all the time just to get noticed and to make you feel like a part of the group. I…I’ll always…” Logan hesitated, thinking on his words.

“Remus, I’ll always acknowledge you. As I said before, you don’t really affect me as much as the others. Granted, you can still irritate me, but I won’t ignore you. I just...want you to know that.” He said softly, finally raising his head.

Remus blinked a few times, twitching a bit, then he rubbed the back of his head, brushing his sleeves down as he tried to play it off that he wasn’t completely stunned by the words of the Logical side. “No need to pity me, Professor Plum-pbottom. I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be than below you, where you can really value my input.” He said, a smirk crossing his face.

Logan sighed in slight disappointment. “Remus, it was starting to become a nice moment.” He said with a frown.

Remus sent him a brittle grin. “Yeah, well. My brother’s the nice one, not me. That should be obvious enough for you to see it, even without those glasses.” He spat, a bit of pain lingering.

Logan nodded, closing his eyes. “Apologies. I just thought for a moment that you had started to act...well...decent.” He admitted.

Remus laughed, the sound a bit too high-pitched to be casual. “Bite your tongue! I’m as indecent as they come!”

Logan raised an eyebrow, rubbing his chin with his hand as a small smirk appeared across his face. “Am I making you nervous, Remus?” He asked.

Remus seemed to tense up. “Nervous? Me?” He ran his hand through his hair with a flourish, bringing an even higher eyebrow from Logan. “Surely, you jest.”

Logan flicked his eyebrows up. “Well, the reason I asked is due to the fact that your entire demeanor just changed. You are now exhibiting tics that one will make when feeling a bit nervous, including unnecessary fiddling, forcefully laughing or laughing nervously, your eyes seem to have a spark of uncertainty to them, and I can hear the quake in your voice, however almost incoherent it may be.” He flicked his hand at Remus’ wide eyes. “I am LOGIC, Remus. Don’t think that I don’t notice these things.”

Remus blinked his wide eyes, then took a very small unconscious step back. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but hardly any noise came out. “I…”

Logan shook his head. “Remus, it’s okay,” his voice was soft and comforting. “Why are you nervous?”

The Duke bit his lip and turned his gaze away from Logan, who was oddly curious at the Dark Side’s behavior. “Remus? Are you okay?”

Remus finally mustered the will to form words, fiddling with the cuff of his sleeve as he frowned. “M’not worth it. You’re...you’re better than me, Lo. I’m not fit to lick your shoes.” He offered a half-hearted dirty grin. “I’d still lick ‘em, though.”

He took a shaky breath. “But, you deserve…” He swallowed hard. “You deserve better. And I…” He tore his eyes away, his voice breaking. “I can’t be that for you. Any goodness I had? That all went to Roman. I’m just…”

A hard and shaky breath escaped his lips. “I’m just what’s left behind.”

Logan’s eyes had gone wide, then he reached out to put his hand on the other’s arm. “Remus…”

The Duke flinched from the touch as Logan held his arm. “Listen to me. That is no way to think. Please. Just...give yourself some credit. I can see what good there is in you that you may not even know you have. But I know it’s there.” He pressed his finger to the center of Remus’ chest, poking him. “It’s right there.”

Remus sighed, then shook his head. “For somebody so good at calling out falsehoods, you seem awfully fond of telling them to yourself.” He put a hand to his chest, shaking his head again. “There’s nothing here, Lo. Nothing but filth and trash, the impure dregs of Creativity that not even Thomas could accept.” He closed his eyes. “You said it yourself, ‘no one ever wants to invite you’. There’s nothing in me that any of you want around, and if Thomas could get rid of me without hurting Roman, I would have been destroyed long ago. As it was, I was exiled to the darkest parts of Thomas’ subconscious… not exactly something you would do to someone who was ‘good’, now would you?” He bit his lip hard. “It’s only logical, after all. If you’re thrown away, you must be trash.” He muttered under his breath.

Logan stood frozen to the spot, his heart stopped after realizing what he’d done. “Remus, I’m so sorry… What I said before… you didn’t deserve that. You don’t deserve any of this… any of how we’ve treated you.” He squeezed Remus’ arm. “We-... I am so sorry.” He then turned his head aside, hanging low. “This is probably my fault…”

Remus scrubbed his eyes roughly. “But whatever, right? It doesn't matter. I don't care. I'm fine. Better than fine, actually. With all those goody-good traits sent to Roman, I'm fucking free. I can do whatever the hell I want to, and you losers can't stop me anymore.” His voice cracked as much as he tried to stop it.

A strike of pain crossed Logan’s face. “R-Remus, I never meant to hurt you…” He took Remus’ hand in his own. “I never meant for you to feel this way.” Logan sighed. “I know you may think you’re ‘free’ now, but isn’t it better to be tied to friends than be free and lonely?” Asked the scholar.

Remus took a deep breath, struggling with the urge to flinch, to rip his hand away. “How…” He closed his eyes. “How the hell would I know, Logan? I don’t…” He swallowed hard before speaking again. “I don’t remember what it was like ...before. Before me. And me? I’ve never had friends. So...how would I know the difference?”

Logan blinked, then he lifted his eyebrow. “What about Deceit? I thought he was your friend?” He then shook his head “But that’s not what I’m trying to say. Remus, I care about you.” His voice cracked as he squeezed Remus’ hand tighter, not letting him slip away. “I just don’t want you to be alone.”

Remus scoffed. “Deceit's a lot of things. A confidant. A co-conspirator. A companion. But he's... not a friend.” He squeezed Logan’s hand back, his knuckles turning white. “Please... please don't, Lo. I... I can't. I can't hope. It hurts too much. I've lost so much already, I'm not strong enough to lose anything else.”

Logan gritted his teeth then threw himself onto Remus with a tight embrace, hugging him close. “YOU'RE NOT LOSING ANYTHING, REMUS. YOU'RE GAINING. I PROMISE.” He let out a small breath. “I'll always be here for you…”

Remus shuddered, then crumpled bonelessly into the embrace, clinging to Logan like an octopus. He buried his face in Logan's shoulder, shaking as he cried. “You can't... you can't promise that. The Others... they wouldn't approve. You said.”

Logan leaned his head atop Remus', rubbing his back comfortingly. “I don't give a damn what the others think anymore. If they don't approve, then I'll make them understand.” He held Remus tighter. “You won't be alone. I won't let you be alone. I do promise you that.”

Remus continued to cry, pressing his face into the crook of Logan’s neck. “But Thomas…” He hiccupped from his sobs. “Even if the Others don't... if Thomas... it won't work. It can't work.”

Logan sighed. “Yes, it can. I'm positive it can. We just all need to work together to figure this all out.” He comforted Remus, hushing him softly. “Look, Remus. When I tell you that I will do anything to make you feel happy, I am not leading you falsely. I...I just want...to see you...smiling.” A small grin crept onto his face. “I love your smile…”

Remus sniffled, looking up. “If you're lying... I'll slit my own throat.” He whispered. He thought about it for a moment, the kiss of metal as it slides across his throat, the blood achingly warm as it spills out, and smiled at the mental image, grin sharp as a blade. “It may not kill me for long, but I'll do it.” He gently touched his own throat, where faint scars were visible. “I've done it before, after all…”

Logan’s eyes went wide. “What?! Why would you ever do such a thing, Remus?” He cried out, concerned. “And why do you seem so content about doing it?!”

Remus blinked as his smile faded. “Why? I... I don't… It's not... it's just object impermanence. Like you said. It doesn't matter what I do. It all goes away eventually.” He said simply.

Logan shook his head. “But...why would you do it?”

Remus shrugged with a sigh. “I just... I just wanted to see. The first time. I thought... maybe it would be better. If I could take myself out of the equation. But, it didn't work, not for long. I came back.” He rubbed the back of his head. “After that... well. you're the scientist. You should know. Any hypothesis demands repeated trials to confirm that the data is sound. And I figured... why not keep trying? Maybe eventually it'd stick. Whatever oblivion is like, it couldn't be worse than this.”

Logan’s eyes widened. “Couldn't be worse than this?! Remus, I CARE ABOUT YOU!! Ple-” His voice cracked. “Please! Why can't you see that?”

Remus flinched. “...That's what I've been trying to tell you. This is why it won't work. I'm wrong. I'm not the kind of broken that you can fix. You can't mend a shattered mirror just by caring about it, and you're only going to cut yourself trying. The things that I do, the things that I like... they're illogical. There's no rhyme or reason to what I do, I just do.” He sighed. “And what I do is wreak havoc. You should stay away from me, for your own good.

Logan stood his ground, his eyes serious. “NO.”

“Logan, please…”

Logan’s voice was strong, meeting Remus' eyes as tears formed in his own. “No, Remus. I AM NOT STAYING AWAY FROM YOU. I DON'T CARE IF YOU THINK YOU CAN’T BE MENDED. I KNOW YOU CAN BE!!!” His shoulders began to shake as he leaned his head on Remus'. “Please… I love you…”

Remus' eyes went wide. "But...all that you've been saying...you kept telling me not to flirt with you-"

"Because I thought it was too good to be true!" Logan exclaimed, shaking his head. "I...I thought I wouldn't ever be lucky enough to have someone actually flirt with me. But you did. And I just didn't know what to do." He admitted, and the Duke sighed with understanding.

Remus held Logan, cradling him, stroking his hair. Gently, he murmured, “I’m not a project or one of your experiments. You might…” He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. “You might love me now, but it’s better to nip this in the bud. You have such high expectations of me, and I'm just going to disappoint you. You'll get frustrated, and your feelings will sour... it's better this way. Better to stop while we still can, to shut it down before the Others find out.”

Logan finally let his emotions fully break down the wall he had put up. Pushing his face into Remus' neck, tears and sobs wracked his body. “N-No...I know y-you're not an experiment, R-Remus, b-but I just w-want to have you with me... d-damn the others... I love you!”

He grasped the cloth of Remus' shirt. “Why do you think I've always stood up for you? Or been the one to acknowledge what you're saying as NOT hurtful! I know it may seem like I haven't been fond of you in the past, but I LOVE YOU, Remus! Nothing will change that!”

He tilted his head up, his eyes wide behind his smudged glasses, and his expression made him seem like a wounded puppy or a lost child. “Remus, please…” He sniffed back his tears, feeling more vulnerable than ever in his life. "What I said was true! I'd never imagined that I'd be blessed to find someone I liked, and then of all the things that could happen, I get flirted on by the one man I'm completely smitten with!!! How am I supposed to react to that? All I'm able to do is just blurt out 'I love you' again and again because that is the only thought my mind is processing right now. That I love you."

Remus opened his mouth, his lip quivering. “I…” His voice began to break. “I love you too, Lo.” He hugged him hard, holding him tight against the shaking. “I love you so damn much. I've loved you as long as I can remember.” He rubbed the back of Logan’s head gently. “I've always been yours.” He closed his eyes. “That's why... that's why I kept teasing you, kept taunting you. I was desperate for any scrap of attention you'd toss my way.”

Logan chuckled softly. “You did all that, and all this time I thought it was just false flirting. I thought it was wishful thinking…” He looked up at Remus, a smile growing on his face. “Will you...will you stay? With me? We could be together.” A hint of hope crossed his voice as he leaned his head on Remus' shoulder. “We could be together…” The whispered echo resonated between the two.

Remus was weak, and his thoughts were running a marathon. He was weak, and he was selfish, and he was impulsive, and he couldn't keep resisting that when he was holding everything he'd ever wanted in his arms. He still thought it was going to end badly, but for the first time, he hoped that maybe, just maybe, he was wrong. He had nothing left to lose, and everything to win. And besides, even if it did end badly, at least he'd have it while it lasted. “Okay. Yeah, Lo, I'll stay. I'll stay with you as long as you'll have me, and they'll have to break every one of my fingers to tear me away.”

Logan's smile could have blinded anyone else with its brightness, so caring and happy. Petting Remus' hair, he met his eyes with happy tears. “I'll be here for you the whole way, and they'd have to pry me away with the strongest bar to take me away from you.” His smile grew. “I love you.”

Hooking his arms around Remus' neck, he pulled him close, smiling as he finally had everything he wanted. The man who he had secretly loved for years was in his arms, in a kiss, and there was nothing that could possibly make Logan happier.

Offhandedly, Remus wondered if he was dead, if one of his suicide attempts had finally worked - because surely this was heaven. Logan was warm in his arms, his mouth soft and sweet, and Remus drank in Logan's affection like a sponge, gorging himself on it. “You're such a dork,” he murmured between kisses, “and I love you so fucking much.”

Logan smirked as he ran his fingers through Remus' hair as their lips connected again and again. “I think this officially makes us boyfriends, Rem.” He closed his eyes as his mouth was filled with a taste that was uniquely Remus, loving the longed-for affection. “I love you too, my own mischievous troublemaker. I wouldn’t ask for you any other way.”

#sanders sides #logan sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #deceit sanders #thomas sanders #intrulogical #blood #gay #cursing #pain #angst #love

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gracie-p8-officialblog · 4 years

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Spilling Tea On Phantom of the Opera 2004

DISCLAIMER: I just want to say from the start that it is not my intention to offendanyone, you're entitled to your opinions and I'm allowed to have mine...

Ok, so, I just watched this movie a few days ago on my laptop and it was pretty much my first time sitting through the movie. I watched a few clips of the movie on YouTube but... Then, I decided to watch the whole movie. And this was my reaction.

Don't get me wrong! There WERE parts I liked but... That was just half of the movie... But overall... Um... It was meh. Ahem. Down to business!

My opinion on Gerard Butler as the Phantom? Um, wow. And not in a good way. I feel like this was a case of a talented performer being grossly miscast as the Phantom. I think this Tumblr post best describes on what I thought of his singing.

"He's supposed to have the voice of an angel, but it sounds like he's been gargling vinegar" ~Quoted by @faded-florals

Don't get me wrong. His voice is quite good for an untrained singer but... The Phantom is one of the biggest musical theatre roles of all time! It's right up there with Jean Valjean. It's really not a role that could go a competent singer, someone who's never sang professionally before but could be good once they've been trained up a bit. The role demands a truly great singer... And he wasn't right for the part.

His voice felt too strainy, growly and rock-ish for the Phantom. I didn't like how Joel Schumacher bought into the whole "sexy Phantom" thing and cast a hunky heart-throb, who was nowhere near disfigured enough. It's meant to be a gothic thriller novel with a small romantic subplot, not a B-grade vampire romance movie!

As for Emmy Rossum as Miss Christine Daae... it's true, her voice is good. She should know though, should she wish to excel, she has MUCH still to learn (Heeeeehee. Sorry. Couldn't resist.)

Emmy's Christine had little-to-no character growth and personality but I don't think it reflects her as an actress, but reflects more on the director and casting director because of how young she was (but more on that later)

Not only that, her Christine was SIGNIFICANTLY dumbed down and oversexualized. I mean, the entire point of the story is that Christine grows strong enough to overcome the trauma of an abusive relationship and make sure that her abuser never hurts anyone ever again but still shows the Phantom compassion and sympathy. I mean, her story arc is her becoming strong-willed enough to overcome the Phantom's pull/spell/enchantment/hypnosis or whatever you percieve it as on her! And don't get me started on her costumes because of the SEVERE lack of modesty.

The chemistry was a little flat because she was underage and her two male love interests were both in their 30s (which totally isn't HER fault, of course, but the directors could easily have cast someone else older)

Her voice, too, strikes me as being much too young and undeveloped. She has a very pretty, sweet-sounding quality to her singing but she doesn't sound rich and operatic enough to be a convincing Christine. Rebecca Caine and Amy Manford do the best job of singing the way I think Christine ought to sound- a maturing opera voice! Though POTO is NOT an opera (you wouldn't believe how many people actually think it is...), it does revolve around opera, and Christine is an opera singer, not a pop star.

And now onto... Everyone's favourite vicomte!!!!!!

C'mon people, put your bottles down. It is a truth universally acknowledged (or at least in the wee Raoul Defense Squad Circle) that Raoul is one of the greatest and most underrated boyfriends to ever exist in musical theatre and it's almost impossible to hate him because of how relatable he is.

Ladies, puh-leeze. He's much more relatable than you admit and face it, we all have a little bit of Raoul in us. Failure to see things staring us in the face, saying or doing the wrong thing at the wrong time, having a 'see it to believe it' attitude when we have little-to-no evidence on something... yeah, don't pretend you don't see a trend. Raoul is relatable whether we want him to be or not.

My thoughts on Patrick Wilson as Raoul, he was one of the few redeeming qualities of this not so great movie. Yeah, the swordfight and Tarzan leaps were a little too much but can you blame him?! And though I feel like that foppish wig made him look more like a magic elf prince than a vicomte, he couldn't control that!

His Raoul was so gentle and caring! Yeah, his acting was a bit stiff but at least his voice wasn't a chore to listen to, it has this warm, tender, comforting quality to it which suits Raoul. I really loved the way he sang "Don't throw away your life for my sake" and "I fought so hard to free you" in the Final Lair (😭😭😭) It feels like Raoul is genuinely apologising to Christine.

I know, I know... The Hadley Fraser fans are approaching with menacing expressions as we speak but let me clarify. I still think Hadley is amazing but... His Raoul kinda felt a little too shouty for me and his Raoul was closer to the LND-canon than POTO-canon (not his fault though).

Miranda Richardson (aka. Rita Skeeter) as Madame Giry is kind of weird. I mean, I know Madame Giry's supposed to be a little Strange and Mysterious. But this Mme. wasn't really Strange or Mysterious at all, or even slightly Spooky at all. She was just kind of an oddball. Popping up in random places to give warnings about the Phantom and looking at people as if she were questioning their life choices or something. As for her daughter... well, Jennifer Ellison's Meg was so-so. She's got a sweet-sounding voice and that added scene where she looked for Christine in the lair was a nice touch... But... Her Meg was kinda forgettable and uninteresting. Meg is supposed to prance around shrieking that the Phantom of the Opera is here, not whisper it in a blase manner that you half expect to be followed up with, "by the way, what's for lunch?" Not to mention, she rivaled Christine as far as low-necked costumes went.

Minnie Driver as Carlotta was spot on! Yes, I know she didn't sing the score but her acting was alright. She was very over-the-top and self-centered, which is great for Carlotta, but I felt her portrayal was a little too childish to be accurate. Carlotta is a successful middle-aged diva who's willing to scream and storm when she doesn't get her way, but she isn't a two-year-old pouting and throwing tantrums. (Yes, there's a difference.)

Ciaran Hinds and Simon Callow played Firmin and Andre, respectively. Their managers kinda felt like twits and nothing more. Also, Firmin's masquerade costume was ridiculous. The stupid kind, not the funny kind. ...Well, okay, it was a little funny.

I'm not going to touch on every song here, but I will say that "Hannibal" was beyond awful (if you thought the costumes in the stage version were a bit risque, you should see the movie ones- no, actually you shouldn't) and that "Think of Me," while very nice, was not particularly memorable. Christine's dress, however (despite its less-than-ideal neckline) was GORGEOUS, even though it looks completely out of place in a musical that supposedly takes place in ancient Alexandria.

"Little Lotte" kinda lost its charm by being spoken instead of sung. And Gerard Butler's voice in "The Mirror" was too rough and raspy for my ears and made me cringe in sympathetic shame. The title song was like a cheesy, campy B-grade horror movie tbh, trying way too hard to be spooky and chilling ("ooh, look, Phantom's Lair! It's DARK and SCARY down here!") and succeeding only in being cringeworthy. Not that I've actually ever seen a bad horror movie- or any horror movie at all, for that matter. Unless you count this one.

Christine's costume, too, annoyed me no end. She was basically wearing a corset and drawers under the dressing gown. *facepalm* The dressing gown is supposed to go OVER your COSTUME to keep it CLEAN, peeps. It's not a BATHROBE. And the amount of eye makeup she had on would terrify a raccoon. Yikes.

Though I liked the random horse because of its nod to the Leroux novel.

"Music of the Night" was so blah-slash-touchy-feely that it made me summarily uncomfortable.

I'd like to be able to say something nice about "I remember/Stranger than you dreamt it" but I have none. One thing that bugged me to no end was how Christine is no longer wearing stockings, like dude, that gives some GROSS implications. Anyways, let's skip to Il Muto!

Oh, but first I should say that "Notes" was rather a flop and that "Prima Donna" is unmemorable and indeed should probably be fast-forwarded as there's a rather unsavory bit involving a crew member showing the audience what he thinks of Carlotta's behaviour.

"Il Muto," I must say, was pretty doggone funny. Carlotta's "Your part is silent. Leetle toad," cracked me up into a bunch of giggling little pieces, and the little vignette of the Phantom tinkering with Carlotta's throat spray made her croaking later on a lot more believable.

Now for "All I Ask Of You", SQUEEEEEE!!!!!!!!! I honestly can't understand how anyone could listen to this song and still maintain that Christine and Raoul don't belong together. He represents everything she needs- stability, protection, a guiding hand and affirmed affection. She represents everything he needs, in turn- someone to show affection to and his childhood friend.

One thing I definitely think could have been left out was the scene in which Erik kills Buquet- we totally did not need to see him being chased, terrified, through the rafters and finally strangled. Gross.

And the Phantom and his rose crouching behind that statue... I think this was supposed to be sad, but there was too much snot mixed with tears for it to be sad. It was, again, gross. So was Gerard Butler's pathetic attempt at the "all that the Phantom asked of you" line. And the lack of a chandelier crash in that scene made the song anticlimactic.

And "Masquerade" was so-so but... The Phantom's entrance is anticlimactic somehow, and his Red Death costume (if indeed it's supposed to even BE the Red Death) is unimpressive. I don't like how Raoul just runs off to desert Christine as soon as things start looking ugly (yes, I realize he was going to get his sword, but still... something could have happened to her while he was gone. Duh, did this guy learn anything from "Little Lotte/The Mirror"? Just sayin)

As for Madame Giry's flashback immediately following, I like how it gives us some of the Phantom's backstory, but it seems really abrupt. You don't even realize until she's done that she was talking to Raoul the whole time- it sounds like she's just randomly reminiscing about Stuff, and if you didn't know the story you might be sitting there thinking, "who is this strange woman again?"

Also, Christine leaving wherever-it-is at, like, five in the morning to go to who-knows-where, completely oblivious to the fact that the Phantom is driving her. Whaaaaaaaaa? How'd he know she was planning to go for a graveyard stroll? Was he watching her through the mirror again? THAT'S JUST CREEPY.

"Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again" was rather mediocre and dulled down the fact that it is a Christine Empowerment™ song. Why, exactly, does Christine's father have the biggest monument in the cemetery? If he were a rich and famous violinist as his crypt seems to suggest, why on earth was his daughter struggling along as a chorus girl taking free music lessons?

The swordfight... Well... I had mixed feelings about it. Sword fights are all well and good, but... The swordfight takes away the element of mysterious danger to the Phantom. Okay, fine, Christine getting Raoul to spare the Phantom's life is a nice touch, I guess, but did it strike no one else that his "now let it be war upon you BOTH" makes absolutely NO sense after that? If she just saved his life, why would he suddenly be all, "thanks, but no thanks, I'M GOING TO MURDER YOUUUUUUUUUU"?

And "Twisted Every Way" was after "Wishing" which made ZERO sense. Plus, I didn't like how they cut most of it because in the musical, it gave Christine a spine!

"Point of No Return"? Hooooooo boy....... There are so many things wrong with this number. Let's just a list a few.

*HOW did no one recognise the Phantom through his "disguise"?! At least in the stage play, it made more sense because of how he was wearing a cloak that obscured most of his body.

*Christine's sleeves falling down over and over again were REALLY annoying.

*It was just too touchy-feely for my taste.

*The fact that Emmy Rossum was a teenager during filming made this scene gross because of the way they oversexualized Christine in this scene.

*Gerard Butler's voice in that scene made me cringe and shake my head in sympathetic shame.

*In the stage play, Christine ran from him, showing her own agenda and resistance to his pull! While in the movie, she didn't resist him!

*Now for the one that took the cake... The disfigurement! Or it would be a disfigurement if it actually made him look, y'know, deformed. Instead, as several people have put it, he looks like he got a bad sunburn or something. It's really rather pathetic. It makes him look more like a drama queen than he already is! Yeah.... I really don't like this movie.

On to... Final Lair!!!!!!!! It was a flop. From Raoul's whining and flailing around and his stringy hair flopping about (shallow complaint, I know, but it's so ugly) to Christine's sappy melodramatic "don't make me choooooooose" faces to the Phantom's prancing around with his ropes and maniacal laughter that somehow wasn't really scary at all... yeah, it was a flop. A major, major flop. And though The Kiss wasn't all that bad, all I could think of was, "She's SIXTEEN! SIX! TEEN! THIS IS CREEPY, DISTURBING AND GROSS!"

Which is why it's so difficult for me to admit that, um, I... cried at the end.

I COULDN'T HELP IT GUYS HE WAS ALL ALONE THERE IN HIS LAKE WITH HIS MONKEY AND HIS SMASHED MIRRORS AND HE WAS CRYING AND IT WAS SAD.

And then that rose on the gravestone? That single red rose? And the look on Old Raoul's face (still Patrick Wilson, by the way, under all that makeup) when he saw it and realized he wasn't the only one visiting Christine's grave? Yup, I lost it again there, too. And I really didn't want to. Because I tend to cry over movies I love, y'know? And I didn't love this movie. At all

Yet I still cried at the end. I'm not really sure why. I think perhaps it had something to do with the way the story still "got" me, deep down inside, despite the lousy casting and less-than-perfect singing and ridiculously unnecessary elements that totally didn't need to be there. It's still a tragically beautiful romance, and even a bad film can't kill that.

In conclusion, I think Mary Poppins can best express what I thought of POTO 2004.

In conclusion, I rate it a 2.7/5

#Grace spills tea #grace speaks #poto 2004 #phantom of the opera musical #phantom of the opera #the phantom of the opera #Phantom of the opera 2004 #movie review #my reviews

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thetravelerwrites · 5 years

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Blue: The Dry Run

Rating: General Audiences Additional Tags: Monster Lover, Gender Neutral Reader, Asexual, Agender Demon, Demon Friend, Reader-Insert, SFW Words: 2135

Blue is anxious about going out among people openly for the first time, so their partner suggests a trial to help them feel less nervous: a petting zoo.

The Traveler's Masterlist

“But what if they don’t like me?”

You sighed at Blue in exasperation. You were trying to convince them to come with you to one of your classes. Your young students often dealt with feelings of being different in a world that didn’t understand them, and you knew Blue understood that feeling very well.

“You’re blue and fuzzy, hon, they’ll love you. You’re like a giant teddy bear.”

“What if they’re frightened? I’m a demon, a creature, a… a thing. Won’t they be scared of me?”

“Of course not. You haven’t been out in hundreds of years, Blue. The world is a different place now. All kinds of creatures walk among humans these days. You’re not the only non-human out there. A handful of my kids are half-human. Orcs, werewolves, dragons, nagas, even other demons. Hell, my boss’s assistant is an incubus, for fuck’s sake. Openly! Like everyone knows he’s an incubus; he doesn’t even try to hide it. Everyone has to have a job these days, you know. And I think the kids would really like you.”

They were sitting scrunched up on the bed, twisting their tail in their lower pair of hands and looked down at themselves. “But… I’m naked.”

You folded your arms and smirked at them. “Now your grasping at straws, Blue,” You said. You turned and looked into your closet. “But if it’ll make you feel better…” You riffled through the rack with your lips pursed. “Hmm…you’re too tall for most of my clothes…” You said. “Oh, here we go.” You pulled out a long, pale pink sundress with yellow flowers. “My sister left this last time she stayed over. I’ve been meaning to send it back to her, but…”

You bid Blue to stand, and they stood up straight. You’re glad you made the decision to move to an apartment with vaulted ceilings so that they could stand at their full height. Their constant crouching was painful, even for you.

You put the dress up to their long, spindly body and considered it. “I think this would look good with your coloring,” You said. “It’s supposed to be ankle length, but I think it’ll be just over your knee. Would this make you feel better?”

They shrugged noncommittally.

You sighed. “Look, why don’t we try a dry run?”

“Dry run?”

“Yeah. Just go out. Nothing big. Maybe the petting zoo.”

“Petting zoo?”

“Yeah, it’s full of cuddly animals you get to play with.”

They gave you a flat expression. “I know what a petting zoo is, my love.”

You laughed. “I take my class there all the time. It’s great for trauma relief. The proprietor is a friend of mine, I can get her to let us in on the weekend.”

“What purpose would that serve?”

“You can play with the animals. Animals are a great judge of character. If they’re not scared of you, then the kids, who are old enough to be reasoned with, won’t be either. Come on, please? It’ll be like our first real date. We’ve never actually had one, for all the time we’ve been together. Please?”

You pressed your hands together as if praying and pouted a little. Blue squatted and sighed, taking the dress and pulling it over their head. Luckily, both sets of arms fit through the armholes. They looked silly and adorable in it.

“If it’s for you…” They signed reluctantly. “But I can’t promise I’ll enjoy it.”

“If you don’t, we’ll come home and I’ll never bring it up again. I want you to be comfortable, but I also think you’d really enjoy yourself.” You took their face in your hands and gently kissed where their nose would have been, if they had one. “There’s no reason to hide, Blue. This world is as much yours as it is mine and there’s no reason why you shouldn’t have everything you want from it.”

“I have you. What else could I want?”

You smiled and hugged them. “I love you too. But…” You sighed. “You’re immortal. Or, at least, you’ll live much longer than me. I want you to have something after… after I’m gone. I don’t want you to disappear again.”

They couldn’t argue with that, as much as they disliked the thought. They had been summoned to protect others before you, and had lost them all long ago. Despite never having revealed themselves to any of their prior charges, Blue always felt the losses deeply and had receded to the void after their deaths, waiting to be summoned again. Blue believed their only purpose for existing was to protect, but you were hoping to give them more than that this go round. They were more to you than a bodyguard or a guardian, they were part of your soul now. You loved them.

Blue couldn’t kiss you, as they had no mouth, but they nuzzled their face to your neck before pulling back and signing, “Okay. I’ll go.”

“You’ll love it. I promise.” You said, running a finger down the middle of their face. They did that strange smile that only involved their eyes.

That Saturday, late in the evening, you had made arrangements with your friend Lizzie for her to open the petting zoo for you simply so she could meet the elusive Blue you were always going on about. She admitted to you that she kind of thought you had made them up.

It was nearly midnight when you managed to get Blue, wearing the sundress, out of the front door. You promised to take all the back ways, so that they would be seen by as few people as possible. You assured them that it wasn’t necessary, that no one would scream or run from them, but they were still wary.

“Don’t look so worried, honey,” You told them, taking them by the hand and pulling them down the sidewalk in the dark just outside of the light of the streetlamps. “It’ll be fine.”

Blue allowed themselves to be lead by their hand, skulking behind you with their eyes darting to and fro.

“Lizzie is very nice, I promise. I’ve already told her all about you, so she knows what to expect,” You said.

“I doubt that,” Blue said.

“Blue, her husband is an onikuma and her best friend since childhood is a horned forest guardian. She’s really not going to be all that surprised by you.”

Blue shrugged and continued to follow you.

You walked up the steps of the community center and ignored the front door. All the lights were off except for the annex building where the petting zoo was kept in back. You skipped a little and pulled Blue forward, as they had stopped when they saw the light ahead.

“Come on!” You said excitedly. If they could have groaned, they would have.

Silhouetted against the open door was your friend, Lizzie, waving an arm over her head in enthusiasm.

Blue faltered in their steps, but you used your momentum to carry them forward. Blue was very strong despite the preternatural thinness of their body and extremities; if they really wanted to wrench themselves from your grasp, they absolutely could have. The fact that while reluctant, they were still complying, spoke to the level of trust they had placed in you. You hoped you weren’t betraying that trust.

“Hey, guys!” Lizzie called. Blue tensed but didn’t retreat.

“Hey, Lizzie!” You said in return, rushing up the stairs to give her a hug. You looked back and saw Blue lingering just outside of the light. “Blue, come on, she’s not going to bite you.”

“Unless you ask nicely,” Lizzie said with a grin.

Blue came forward slowly, fidgeting with their tail nervously.

“Wow, so this is Blue, huh?” Lizzie said, taking a few steps forward and putting out a hand. Blue eyed her warily, but took her hand in one of theirs and shook delicately. “I really did think you made them up, you know,” Lizzie added to me.

“Told you so,” I said.

“Yeah, you did,” Lizzie said, smiling brightly at Blue.

“Nice to meet you,” Blue signed after you nudged them.

“You, too,” Lizzie replied. “Well, ready to pet some animals?”

Blue nodded, the cascade of their hair shivering as they did so, and They followed you and Lizzie into the building.

Inside there was a miniature pony, a few pigs, a llama, some lambs, a goat, and a pen full of little rabbits.

“Ooh! Look, Blue! Bunnies!” You said, pulling them toward the pen. Picking one up, you set it in Blue’s upper pair of hands. Blue cradled it carefully, waiting for it to fight them or freak out, but it didn’t. It simply sat placidly in Blue’s grasp, nose twitching.

You took one of Blue’s lower hands and pulled it up, showing them how to stroke the bunny. When you let go, Blue continued on their own.

“See? Not so bad, right?”

Blue didn’t answer, just scratched the bunny behind its ear. They then knelt down and put their hand out, and the other bunnies came over and sniffed it curiously.

“Here,” Lizzie said, holding a cabbage in her hands and breaking off some of the leaves for Blue to feed to the rabbits. Blue took the leaves and held them out, and the bunnies flocked to them, much to their delight. Blue then sat cross-legged in the pen, surrounded by rabbits as if they were the bunny messiah.

“Cute dress Blue’s wearing,” Lizzie said in an undertone after you had retreated to give Blue some space.

“Yeah, it was my sister’s. I just forgot to give it back.”

“So, Blue’s a girl?”

“Nope.”

“A boy?”

“Neither,” You replied.

Lizzie scrunched up her face in confusion. “Well, I know you call them ‘they’ and all,” She said. “But… what have they got going on… you know… downstairs?”

“They’re an eldritch horror borne of the void, Lizzie, they don’t need to have anything ‘going on downstairs,’” You told her in a sniffy tone. “Besides, the only person who needs to be concerned about that is them.”

“Well, you’re together, aren’t you? Wouldn’t it concern you, too?”

“I’m a sex-repulsed asexual, Lizzie; it doesn’t make a difference to me what they may or may not have… physically. Blue is what they are and they don’t need to be anything else. It’s not complicated; they’re happy, I’m happy, and that’s what matters.”

Lizzie shrugged. “If you say so.”

Blue sprung up to their feet and trotted over to you, a small procession of bunnies following in their wake, and they smiled their eye-smile. They still had a rabbit on their shoulder.

“I want to pet the horse now,” they said.

It took another three trips to the petting zoo before Blue decided they felt confident enough to greet your class. You had also experimented with different articles of clothing, but Blue decided they liked the sundresses best. It allowed for freer movement, and they liked the way the fabric fell around their body. Halter top dresses worked best with their four arms.

While going to put away Blue’s new clothes, you hand touched a bag that you had stowed away in the closest nearly a year ago, the one with the bits of the bunny, Blue’s vessel.

“Whoa,” You said, holding it if for them to see. “I’d forgotten about this. Why did you rip this to pieces?”

“To get out,” They said. “Demons are physically trapped within the confines of their vessels. We literally have to ‘break’ free of them. I had no reason to do so before that night, but when I couldn’t discern why you were so distressed, I freed myself to try and comfort you better, though I seemed to have had the opposite effect.”

“Aw,” You said, hugging them around the middle. They’re lower set of arms wrapped around your waist while the upper pair settled on your shoulders. “It’s all good now. You’re a huge comfort to me, Blue.” You pulled up and looked at their face, frowning slightly. “I do wonder what you get out of staying with me, though.”

“I get love,” they said with their eye-smile. “That’s all I need.” They’d brushed their forehead against yours affectionately and you kissed their face.

The next day, Blue picked out the white sundress with the roses on it, their favorite, and shyly accompanied you to the school. They walked scrunched up at first, but when they saw other creatures, like demons, orcs, and beast-people, walking among humans, they straightened out a little and seemed a bit more eager.

When you got to the school, you introduced Blue to your colleagues, who greeted them warmly, which was surprising to Blue.

Outside your first class, you turned to Blue.

“Ready?”

They smiled and nodded.

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider buying me a Kofi, becoming a Patron, or donating directly to my PayPal!

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My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

#Exophilia #Demon #Asexual #Gender Neutral Reader #Reader Insert #Petting Zoo #SFW #My Writing #Blue #Interspecies Romance #Asexual Romance #Agender

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bohrapbachelorette-blog · 5 years

Text

Borhap Bachelorette (Part 1)

Word Count: 2,156

Prompt: This is a Borhap boys x reader Bachelorette AU.

A/N: This was written by @ @wewillfarrokhyou @anuknowha @tooweirdtolivetoogaytodie @freddiesstache @queen-in-funerland @fatbottomedgwil

We hope you like it! Also be sure to vote for who gets the first impression rose.

Taglist: @bitemerog @mr-stank-i-dont-feel-so-dank and @rogerinatrash @roger-bang-the-drum (who signal boosted my original post) Message me to be added to the list/follow this blog)

You had just arrived in front of the mansion. You were extremely nervous about being the star of The Bachelorette - you didn’t have too much experience dating before, and being on this show was supposed to be a chance for you to find love. What could you say? You were a true romantic at heart. You were dressed in your best gown, your makeup and hair done by the specialist, and now you sat waiting. You hadn’t met the guys yet, but they were due to arrive in the limo any second.

Chris Harrison came from inside the house and approached you.

“Hello, (y/n), how are you feeling?” He said, with his T.V. smile on.

“Hi Chris! I'm excited, but also quite nervous. Just really hoping to find the love of my life. I know I’m ready,” you smiled brightly and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. Just then, the limo started to roll into the driveway and you heart began to race.

“Here we go...” you muttered to yourself.

A tall man with gorgeous cheekbones and a straight jawline got out of the limo and walks towards you, holding a pitch black acoustic guitar. Fender, you assumed - you weren't really knowledgeable about guitars. He had clear blue eyes and chestnut brown hair, with perfectly arranged facial hair. He started singing “You’re My Best Friend” as he walked towards you.

“Ooh you make me live, whatever this world can give to me...” As he was singing, people on the sides threw polaroids at you. You caught one - they were all pictures of him in various cute, Instagram-worthy poses. “Ooh you’re all I see..” you were laughing at how silly and sweet it was.

“Hello love, I’m Gwilym Lee. Lovely to meet you.” He says, taking your hand and giving it a kiss.

“That was a wonderful entrance,” you laugh, and he takes a bow.

He walked past you and into the mansion. He seemed like a genuinely sweet guy and you were excited to see who else was going to come.

Out of nowhere, the song “Boss Ass Bitch” began to play. You were incredibly confused until from around the corner you spotted a giant dinosaur dancing its way toward you. You burst out laughing at the ridiculous sight, your hand coming up to cover your mouth.

“Oh my god!” You yelled out, watching the dinosaur shake its hips.

The dino got on its knees and presented you with a rose. He unzipped the top part of the costume, showing ginger hair and bright smile. He roared and you laughed again.

“I’m Joe, Joe Mazzello,” he exclaimed. You took the rose out of his hand.

“Well, you certainly put on a show,” you said, highly amused.

“It’s all in the hips,” he joked.

He smiled and walked past you. You could already tell that Joe was going to be a lot of fun. He had a great sense of humour from the way you nearly cried laughing at his dinosaur dance. You wondered who was going to enter next.

“Remember the Time” by Michael Jackson began to play as a man in full egyptian clothing came out of a limo dressed like a pharaoh. He had tan skin and big blue eyes and his whole look gave a grandiose appearance.

“Hello, your highness,” you bowed at his costume.

“Well I was in Night at the Museum, so I couldn’t resist. I’m Rami Malek,” he beamed, holding out his hand.

“(Y/n),” you grinned, taking his firm handshake.

“I look forward to getting to know you,” he smiled as he walked behind you.

You were impressed by his kingly appearance and beautiful features. Night at the Museum? I only remember Ben Stiller... Who is he?, you thought to yourself. Only one more guy was left to join all of you in the bachelorette house. What kind of a person would he be?

Right on schedule, another limo appeared. It was loudly blaring — “I’m too sexy for my shirt, too sexy for my shirt…” The back half of the baby blue limo was a hot tub with an admittedly very cute blond sitting in it, shirtless, arms draped around the sides. His curly blond hair and chiseled abs were almost too much.

“Hey, baby. Care to join me?” His accent made you weak at the knees.

“Ah...I'm good, thanks.” You blushed and gave him a small smile.

“Oh. Um. Okay.” His pecs twitched almost nervously. Confused, he looked down, but it happened again and you started giggling uncontrollably.

“What was that?” Joe asked.

“What was wh-” the blond started, but it happened again. You and the other boys doubled over in laughter.

“I -” Hot Tub Man turned beet red and lifted himself out of the tub, wrapping a towel around his torso. A small laugh also escaped him. “I'm Ben Hardy. Nice to meet you.” Ben said as he walked over to you. He went to hug you but backed up a little when he realized that he was soaking wet. You muttered a quiet, “sorry” to him.

“I’ll save it for later,” he said, maintaining a suave composure as he walked to the mansion to dry further.

That was it. All the guys had already introduced themselves and made quite the impression on you. From the sweet romantic Gwil, to the funny and charming Joe, the royal Rami, and the gorgeous Ben. It was going to be a hard choice to see who gets the final rose. You just hope that the interviews help make it easier.

The guys were all drinking in the lounge of the mansion when you walked in. Chris Harrison walked to the front of the room.

“Well, this is it, enjoy your first night!” he said as he walked away.

All four guys were staring at you. You couldn’t help but to blush.

This was your time to play coy - you wanted them to believe there were things about them that you didn’t know. You wanted them to be completely honest and after you’d seen them on the set of Bohemian Rhapsody together you knew exactly how they would act both on and off set. Even while they were there, you’d watch them on social media and their interviews when they weren't with each other. Hell, you even knew their favorite foods but you wanted to hear it “straight from the horse’s mouth”, as they say. You knew that this was going to be fun, and you just had to let it play out right. You just had to be careful and pretend to be unaware of these guys and their pastimes.

Rami trailed off first. “Ms. (y/n), I’m not sure if you like cats, but I am severely allergic. Thought I’d let you know beforehand.” He grinned.

“Well, I’m a model!” Gwilym stated.

“We’re all models.” the other three sighed in unison.

Ben seemed to keep his eyes on you, making you a little uneasy.

“Your eyes are absolutely gorgeous Y/N. Look at how soft they are and how the light in this lounge absolutely twinkles off of them.”

It took a moment for you to process the information and once your brain finished establishing his words, you had time to notice that he had a shirt on.

“Oh, oh you’re Ben right?”

He held his hand out as the other three watched him and slowly looked over at you as you shook it.

“Great, now she’s going to like you more, and after I dressed like the best thing since sliced bread. I. Feel. Betrayed. Ben.” Joe huffed as he puffed out his cheeks and crossed his arms.

A small smirk appeared on the blonde’s face. He felt confident that he was the first one who made physical contact with you since you guys entered the mansion. His grip was firm but gentle, he wasn’t using too much force and but you could tell he didn’t seem to want to let you go. But he did.

“I love dinosaurs and the prehistoric age, I love history-” Joe stuttered to try to catch your attention.

“Is that what you majored in college, Joe?” You glanced over at him with a smile.

“Actually, I went to college for the cinematic arts, I wanted to make my experience on the big screen.” He grinned, his hands held in front of his face, and he slowly spread them apart as if he was making some kind of invisible rainbow. Almost as if he were about to do jazz hands.

“Well, I’m British darling, have you ever dated a man from another country?” Ben hummed.

“Not yet, but I’m still available,” Gwilym laughed.

Ben sent a glance over at him, one of slight disgust as he squinted his eyes.

You tried to contain your laughter but it was hard, you could tell you were in the room with a bunch of goofballs but you didn’t hate it- in fact, it made them each stand out, it was cute.

Rami caught your attention as he was sitting there, his eyes fixated on something else.

“Something wrong?” You questioned.

“Hmm?” He looked over at you, a bit embarrassed, as if you caught him doing something wrong.

“Nothing. I was just thinking about how beautiful you are,” A small smile formed on his face.

“Don’t mind him, he’s even like this in interviews,” Gwilym said.

“He’s been like this on our dates too,” Joe tried to whisper so Rami couldn’t hear.

“I hope you know, I did hear you, and I do pay attention, just not to your existence or your-” Rami paused and put his hand to his mouth pretending to cough. “Cold. Isn’t that right, John?”

The room got silent for a second as Joe sent Rami a death stare. But his only response was to return it with a sly smirk.

Soon enough Joe tackled Rami off the couch and was playfully pulling at his suit as the other two burst out into laughter.

You laughed too and watched them all turn to you, momentarily stopping the fight.

Joe’s face lit up some, “Guys, she’s laughing at me. I’m funny.”

“Funny to look at…” Rami whispers.

This time, Joe playfully hit him in the arm and got off of him. And they all tried to gain back their composure. Rami fixed his jacket and straightened his tie.

You were still laughing, but soon tried to gather yourself as well. They were all smiling, you could tell that they were enjoying this talk with you.

“Weird that you’re allergic to cats but here you are playing Freddie Mercury, and being all lovey dovey with the creatures. You love them more than you love us,” said Joe.

“Not true,” Rami said with a small frown. “Not my fault that I was hot enough to play the leader.”

“But bloody hell, I was Roger and everyone loves a sexy drummer,” Ben grinned.

Gwilym let out a small chuckle. “Especially Joe.”

Joe blushed and lifted his white dress shirt to cover his face in embarrassment.

Gwilym turned to you and smirked. “Should I tell her that Joe has a cardboard cutout of Ben?”

You eyes floated over to Joe as he continued to stay flustered and quiet. “Is this true Joe…?” you pondered.

Joe tried not to answer for what seemed like an eternity. Soon he pulled the shirt down and replied with a mumbled “Yes.”

“How do you feel about this, Ben?” you felt a little weirded out but you wanted to find out exactly what was going on.

“I feel honored actually,” he laughed. “He only did it because I was never there for them. They were always touring but I had to go, other things to do.”

You looked at him and than your eyes grew slightly worried. “Does that mean that you won’t be here for me?”

The other three turned to look at Ben, all with faces of questioning.

“N-no of course not!!” Ben stuttered. He seemed surprised that he told on himself, even though you already knew.

“Um, (y/n), could I steal you for a second?” Rami asked, breaking the slight tension in the room and taking his chance to get some alone time with you.

“Not on my watch,” Gwil said pushing him to the side as he grabbed his guitar. “Well, you are a big Queen fan, mind if I play something?” he looked at you so earnestly that you decided to nod.

You all started singing Somebody to Love together, each of you pitching in with different verses. You started to feel at home with these boys. Chris Harrison was surprised when he walked back in to see you all together - the guys were generally more possessive over the bachelorette.

“Well, (y/n), it’s the end of the night. It’s time to give the out the first impression rose. Who will it be?”

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

Who do you think made the best first impression, and who would you give the rose to? Vote here: https://doodle.com/poll/3zupusvkkyepfarn

#borhap boys #joe mazzello #gwilym lee #rami malek #ben hardy #borhap #bohemian rhapsody

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