Shakespeare one shots

Fact: Mercutio

Hey faeries! The next update is finally here. It's been a hot second, and I'm aware, but in my defense I'd been completely disconnected for a week as a result of a family camping trip.

Writer's block has been driving me batshit crazy for the last few days. Ugh. Y'all know how it is. You write down a word but it's not the right word so you try a new word but you hate the new word and you need a good word but you can't find the word, where is it what is it what is it where is it- *unintelligible mumbling*

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Fact: Mercutio can and will talk.

He's always loved talking. ˢᵐᵃˡˡ words, ᗷIG words, ⓛⓘⓖⓗⓣ words, 🅕🅤🅛🅛 words, 𝓟𝓡𝓔𝓣𝓣𝓨 words, ʊɢʟʏ words, ̷s̷̷h̷a̷̷r̷̷p̷ words, s͜͡o͜͡f͜͡t͜͡ words, plain words, words dressed in ᏕꂅգuᎥՈᏕ and 𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣 and 𝓼𝓲𝓵𝓴. He's mastered them all.

Some people like listening to him. Others don't. A few feel obligated to listen. A few more won't listen at all. He doesn't care.

He talks whenever possible, and often when inconvenient. This gains him allies, fans, friends, and sometimes enemies.

He will charm his allies with smart words, feed his fans with loving words, keep his friends with true words, and counter his enemies with quick ones.

But what is he to do when there is a person who stubbornly refuses to be contained within the title of Friend?

Fact: Mercutio is friends with Benvolio.

This has always been true, but to him it had also always felt too small. He speaks to Benvolio with true words, sometimes, but that's how he speaks to his friends.

His words have a different way of behaving around Benvolio. They still bite and burn and sting, if he wants them to, but he never does. Why would he?

He is able unleash unpleasant words on his friends upon occasion. He never does that to Benvolio. He can't.

Fact: Mercutio is in tune with himself.

He knows when he feels good, and when he doesn't. No one else needs to know when he doesn't. It is for him and him alone.

But Benvolio knows. Benvolio always knows.

No matter how he tries to hide it, Benvolio will toss a few words into the air and he will break. He will tell Benvolio everything.

The walls he spends so much time putting up and maintaining have holes that only Benvolio knows how to slip through.

This thrills and terrifies him.

Fact: Mercutio has all the answers.

Except when he doesn't. This does not happen very often, but when it does, he shrinks into himself and gives up entirely on any kind of outward feeling.

Briefly, he will not be one-hundred percent. This moment could last a minute, an hour, or a millennium. Time is relative anyway.

And then he will be back, smiling or smirking or sneering. His words will greet him like excited dogs that have gone too long without their loving master.

He will crack a joke to ease the concerned faces around him, and that will be that.

Fact: Mercutio understands people.

Most of the time.

He helps his friends work through their bothersome human feelings. He himself is above said feelings, of course. This is his role. He will not abandon it, because if he isn't okay, the world will surely snap in two.

His own feelings are a matter of bottling and avoiding. If he can't see them, they don't need to be dealt with. He knows very well that this will come back to bite him later. He cannot bring himself to stop.

Good feelings will be expressed. Bad feelings will be ignored or used immediately to deal with the situation.

This is simply how he works.

Fact: Mercutio pretends to be okay.

He cries and screams and curses. Just not where anyone might hear.

If one were to follow him to his room after a bad day (that might not have looked bad at all to any person but him), one would experience a very well-hidden side of him. He likes to believe it's well-hidden, at least.

Oh yes, he breaks down. Quite brilliantly. The catch is that only a select few will ever know.

Fact: Mercutio tells things to Benvolio.

Benvolio, in fact, knows more about his problems than almost anyone. Benvolio is the one he confesses to. Benvolio gets the texts at ungodly hours that are so cryptic it's often hard to understand exactly what sort of bad mood he's in.

Benvolio responds to each and every one of these texts without fail. Benvolio shoots down every self-deprecation, every declaration of apocalyptic times, every I-hate-life with reasoning and distilled confidence so sound he can't help but give in.

He allows Benvolio to see this raw, vulnerable piece of himself, and in return trusts Benvolio never to stab him there.

Fact: Mercutio lies alongside breathing.

He spins tales with his heartbeat, makes excuses as he blinks, and lives a falsehood in every smile.

He sometimes wishes he didn't lie through his teeth every time he opens his mouth. Then it gets him away from a difficult situation and he won't trade his silver tongue for the world.

He can talk himself into or out of anything. He coerces, charms, and bullshits his way through life, simply hoping no one ever manages to talk at him the same way.

He talks circles around everyone he knows.

Except Benvolio.

Fact: Mercutio knows he'll kiss Benvolio someday.

He just knows it'll happen. He's tried to picture it, but stopped because he knows anything he thinks up wouldn't compare to real thing.

Even without daydreaming, he's certain about several things.

One is that it'll be dramatic as all hell. This is simply how they work. They can't not be dramatic. It's just not possible.

Two is that it'll be his first. He's been saving it for years, although for most of that time he didn't know who for.

Three is that he'll be speechless.

This is less something he's thought about and more just gut feeling. There will be no puns or wordsmithing. There will only be the kiss.

Fact: Mercutio knows with absolute certainty that in that moment...

His hands will be holding Ben somehow. Ben's face, Ben's waist, Ben's shoulders, anything.

His eyes will slowly fall closed.

He will sigh happily, whether he wants to or not.

His heart will be combusting.

And he will not be able to think of a single thing to say.

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First off: FUCKING HELL, WRITING IN A NEW TENSE IS DIFFICULT. I'm so used to past tense, it was thoroughly bamboozling to use present. Probably never doing it again.

Second: Different format. Interesting. Confusing. Sometimes hard to work with. Still fun.

Third: I apologize sincerely and profusely for not updating for so long. It simply happened. I started school again, and I'm unsure whether that will get me cranking these out faster or taking up my schedule too much. I'll let y'all know.

Farewell, my faeries. Fact: Mercutio loves each and every one of you.