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pls-hold-me-im-justa-weeb · 3 months

Text

Kid x Reader x Killer angst to eventual comfort

Based off of my Brain Rot TM here

Writing is my therapy and I experienced a sub-drop last night from audio stuff and didn't really have a Dom, so I had an anxiety/panic attack. ANYWAYS. Be careful out there, and communicate clearly.

TW's: Starts with consensual threesome smut, non-con elements, degradation, rough sex, anxiety attack, suggested sub-drop, GN reader

Notes: I spelled his name 'Kidd' even though I later learned it's 'Kid' so whoops lmao.

WC: ~5.6k

-----

You were nearly suffocating, but gods you loved it. One thick cock was fucking your cute, dripping hole, and the other cock was being rammed down your throat as you jerked forward from the crude thrusts behind you. One hand was holding you up by your handcuffed wrists, and another held a fistful of your hair to keep your head still. Your eyes rolled back as you gagged again around the cock in your throat, drool dripping obscenely down your chin and onto the mattress you were knelt on.

"What a fucking slut, huh Killer? Gonna stretch this lil hole 'till it's gaping" Kidd growled as he gave a particularly harsh thrust behind you. Killer grunted in agreement.

"Look at 'em. Gagging and crying on your cock because it deserves to cry, to barely be able to breathe as we take our fuckin pleasure. Nothing but holes to me."

Kidd continued to talk, degrading you. His voice was deep and hoarse, belying his pleasure. Your shoulders were aching from being held up for so long, but not enough to use the signal to end things. Kidd's thrusts became harder as he yanked you back against his cock, and you felt something in your shoulder pop. Pain bloomed in your shoulder, and though you knew nothing had torn and nothing was broken, it would be soon.

You tried to snap your fingers a few times, but they were too squished in Kidd's grip. You were beginning to panic, and you tried to speak but could only get out a gurgled moan.

"Stay still, bitch- or do I have to teach you a lesson? Need this hole filled until it's overflowing. Nothing but a fucking pocket pussy to us. Pathetic little thing. Please us or we'll dump you" he growled.

You needed to do something. Anything to get out. You tried turning your head, and only succeeded in scraping your teeth against Killer's dick, and he yanked back with a hiss. His cock was removed fully, and you raspily called out the safe word.

"Red"

Killer paused.

"What did you say?" he sounded concerned.

Kidd only shoved your face into the mattress. Something in your neck and shoulder clicked painfully, and you cried out a little.

"Pocket pussy's don't get to speak" he growled. Killer pushed Kidd from your back roughly.

"Speak" the blond ordered to you.

"Red" you whispered, tears now flowing from your eyes for a different reason.

"Okay okay, we're done. Kidd. We're done." Killer spoke firmly to his partner, who was still slowly thrusting in your sore hole. Kidd scoffed, and brought down a hand harshly on your ass, and you jerked forward, off his dick.

"Pathetic."

Kidd gathered a wad of spit in his mouth before spitting it on your ass as you laid there, shaking and crying.

Killer brought his fist up and slammed it across the redhead's face, knocking him off the bed.

"Get out and go cool off" he ordered. Kidd rammed a fist through the wooden floor, and you flinched, breath becoming erratic. You couldn't move. Your head was fuzzy, and all you knew is that you did something bad. He hurt you, and you were bad. The mattress rocked as Killer pushed off the bed and there was a rustle of cloth.

"Get out!" Killer opened the door, and you heard heavy foot falls before the door was slammed shut and locked. At the slam of the door, you flinched and wrapped your hands around your head, curling into the fetal position. Your fists gripped your hair, pulling at it and scratching at the scalp. Your body tensed with each footstep approaching you.

"Hey, baby" Killer spoke softly in his deep voice. You tensed, readying your body as if to ward off any berating words. You were hyperventilating, tear flowing onto the mattress.

"Can I hold your hand?"

You shook your head, not believing you were worthy of any affection. But you couldn't speak.

A soft, fluffy blanket draped over your naked body, shaking like a leaf in the wind as your chest worked rapidly.

"Kick it off if you get too hot. I'm going to lay down next to you and I'm going to breathe. You're going to do your best to follow, okay? Can you speak?"

You managed to shake your head at his question. You couldn't speak. Your voice wouldn't come out, and you couldn't even get yourself to move enough to open your mouth.

"Okay. Put your hand on your chest so you can follow my breathing."

You whimpered, curling into yourself. Why can't I move? Why am I being so bad. I can't- I can't-.

"Can you move your arm?"

You shook your head, starting to sob harder.

"Hey, hey. Okay. You're here. You're okay. Can I move your hand for you? It'll just rest on my chest and then I'll keep it there."

You nodded, grateful that he was willing to help someone- no, something- like you. Rough, calloused hands gently pried one of your hands away from your hair, and held it. His hand was warm. He moved your hand to his chest, right over his heart. Your shaking hand and body resisted his kindness, but he slowly moved your arm.

"There. Okay? Now I'm going to breathe deeply in.... and out. Can you feel that?" Your arm moved up with the inflation of his lungs, and sank back down with the exhalation. You nodded, hiccupping breaths catching in your throat.

"Okay, now follow me. Ready?" He began breathing in deeply, and you tried to choke down the bucking of your lungs to follow his instructions. I can't be bad. I'll be hurt.

"Good. You're doing so good for me. Keep going."

His hand kept your on his chest, over his heart until you could breathe deeply with him.

"Good job, you did so well. Can I hold you now?"

You nodded, needing to feel protected. He moved quickly to wrap his arms around you, your hand still on his chest as he brought his forehead to yours. At some point, he had removed his helmet.

"Oh sweetie, you did so well saying the safeword. I'm glad you told us."

You began crying and sobbing at his words.

"...i'm sor-r..." you tried to speak, but it burned your throat to do it while crying. Killer pulled your body closer, one hand on the back of your head as he tucked your head under his chin.

"Don't apologize, little one. You did so good. You did everything right. Are you hurt?"

You curled into him, letting yourself cry. Your shoulder still ached, and your neck hurt to move too much. You nodded slightly, your sobs shaking your shoulders as you made a fist against his chest.

"When you feel ready, I need you to show me where, okay?" Killer eased his grip on your body, but stroked your hair as you cried into him. You don't know how much time had passed when your tears finally began to cease.

"...i'm sorry..." you managed to whispered. Killer hummed soothingly in his large chest.

"You're okay sweetie. You did so well. You did everything right" he soothed you. You pulled back from him, and tried to look up at him but flinched as your neck flared in pain. You sucked in air between your teeth as your eyes slammed shut in pain.

"Does your neck hurt?"

You whispered an affirmative.

"Anywhere else?"

"...shoulder" you murmured, eyes squeezed shut. Your body was starting to shake again as you admitted your injuries. Killer's calloused hand trailed lightly over your neck and shoulder.

"Thank you for telling me, hon. Is it muscle pain?" he asked softly. You managed a slight nod.

"Okay. Your muscles have cooled off now so lets run a bath to help with the ache, okay? C'mon. Let's get you cleaned up."

You held onto him as he started to rise, and he paused, looking down at you curiously.

"You okay?"

Tears brimmed your eyes again as you spoke.

"You didn't finish. Neither did.. he."

Killer chuckled a little, and cradled your jaw in his hand.

"You're so sweet to worry about that. I'm perfectly fine. So is Kidd."

He looked down at you confidently, and it eased your fears.

"If you need to use me later..." you murmured unthinkingly.

"Hey. No. No. That's not how this works. We love and care about you, and no matter what we say in bed, that will never change. Your boundaries always come first, no matter what. You're hurt from this time, and Kidd went way too far. He's at fault here, and he knows it. You're way more than a thing to us. We love you, as a person. As a being. You're everything to me. To us."

The tears that were brimming fell down your cheeks, and you held your arms out to him.

"I'm sorry" you murmured. He picked you up easily, one arm stabilizing your neck gently and the other scooping you up under your butt. You made a sound at the movement, your hole sensitive and bruised.

"Don't be sorry, baby. I'm sorry. I should've noticed you couldn't signal if you needed to stop" he murmured back. You whined at his apology.

You let him carry you to the connecting bathroom. He sat you down on the toilet as he went to fill the tub.

"Cmon. I know you gotta go. I know you're shy about it so I'm going to turn around and watch the bath while I cover my ears, okay?"

You quickly relieved yourself and patted your poor hole dry from the wetness from earlier. You stood yourself on shaky legs and flushed. Killer turned at your movement, and wrapped you in his arms before you toppled over.

"Let's get in the bath, okay?" you hummed an affirmative, your neck really starting to ache. He stepped into the hot water, easing you down with him. You hissed at the temperature on your abused hole, but quickly moaned in relief. You were more sore than you thought.

"Good, doing so good for me" Killer soothed as you shifted in his lap. He grabbed a nearby wash cloth and dipped it in the water, wringing it out over your neck and injured shoulder. You hummed as the heat soothed the pain a little. You yawned, exhausted from your panic.

"Lemme take care of you. Don't gotta worry 'bout a single thing with me 'round, okay?" a light kiss tickled your temple and you hummed an affirmative, drifting off into a doze as Killer ran the washcloth over your body, cleaning you of your tears and sweat.

You groaned in displeasure as he picked you up from the cooling water and he chuckled a little.

"I know but you'll be warm soon enough"

You huffed at him and in response, he wrapped you in a fluffy towel, drying you off as you sat on the edge of the tub.

"Killer..." you muttered his name, trying to thank him, but another thought struck you instead.

"Hmm?"

"Does he not like me anymore?" tears welled in your eyes again, and you looked down at your boyfriend as he knelt in front of you. He pulled you into a hug, cradling your head gently into his neck.

"That's not it. I don't know why he acted so awful. I know how much he cares about you. He loves you. I love you. Okay?"

You sniffled.

"I love you too" you mumbled. Killer kissed your cheek, and pulled back with his hand cradling your jaw. You leaned in to kiss him on the lips chastely. You pulled back, wincing as the movement made your shoulder and neck hurt.

"Let's get you dressed and into bed. I'll get you some pain medication too."

He picked you up and carried you to the bedroom, setting your pliant body on the bed. You sat on the edge, staring at the wall and starting to zone out.

Why did he do that? He... He didn't stop. He spat on me and called me pathetic. Killer had to punch him to get him off the bed. Is he okay? What if he had a crash too?

Soft fabric slid against your bare thighs, distracting you from your thoughts. Killer looked up at you with his piercing blue eyes, curious. You noticed he had put sweats on finally.

"Whatcha thinkin' about?"

You sighed.

"What if he also had a... crash?" you asked. Killer sighed, and put the shirt over your head. He guided your arms through the sleeves as he spoke.

"If he did, he would need to be alone. It's how he is" he answered thoughtfully. You hummed, noticing Killer put one of his own old shirts on you.

"Is it weak to need help when I have a-"

"No."

Killer cut you off firmly before you finished. He cupped your cheeks in his large hands, holding your teary gaze.

"You're not weak. You're so strong for telling us to stop when you were in pain and when it was really hard for you to. It's not pathetic, like Kid called you. You are amazing, truly" he kissed your forehead gently, and a single tear slid down your cheek. His thumb wiped it away quickly. You sniffed, bringing the hand of your uninjured side to cover the back of his hand.

"Thank you" you whispered. He smiled softly.

"You're welcome. There's some pain meds and a glass of water on the bedside table, and I know Kid keeps some muscle cream in here somewhere. Let's get your neck and shoulder taken care of, okay?"

You shuffled yourself back painfully towards the head of the bed. You never realized just how much you used your neck and shoulder muscles. Killer met you with the water and pills, and you took them quickly. He took the empty glass and put it on the bedside table before opening a tube of cream he procured while you were choking down the pills. He swept stray hair out of the way and gently massaged the cream into your sore muscles. The cream had a strong menthol smell and had a strange burning yet cooling sensation on the skin.

"Good. That should start to feel better tomorrow" he said, recapping the tube. He wiped his hands off on your discarded towel and helped ease you into the blankets. He went around the room, turning off the lights before crawling into bed next to you, spooning you from behind. He littered kisses on your head and the back of your neck, making you giggle a little.

"Hmmmm there ya are. Go to sleep now. Ya need it" he said gently. You sighed.

"I know... you need to go see if he's okay to stop worrying. But can you wait until I'm asleep?"

His arms tightened around you.

"Of course."

With the promise, you drifted off to sleep quickly, exhausted.

---

You woke to the sound of rustling clothes as someone got dressed. You sighed heavily, turning over and immediately regretting your movement. Pain bloomed through your neck and shoulder, making you wince and groan.

"Mornin', sweetie. How ya feelin'?" Killer's gravelly morning voice soothed your annoyance at being in pain so soon after waking up. You hummed in response. You heard his footsteps walk to your side of the bed, and your eyes opened. The sun was shining from behind him, illuminating his hair like an aura around his body. He looked like he was glowing. You smiled at him dreamily.

"You're so pretty" you murmur. Killer let out a scoff but was obviously pleased at your compliment. He leaned over you, one arm holding some of his weight by your side. His lips pressed to your cheek in a dramatic, drawn out kiss that you've only seen him do a few times behind closed doors. Usually it was used to turn Kidd into a blushing, yelling mess. You giggled at the feeling.

"Ya still hurtin?" he asked, looking down at you. He looked concerned, and even hesitant to ask. The memories of last night came flooding back, and your smile died.

"Yeah" you answered eventually. He stood and rummaged around your bedside table.

"Here, lemme put the cream on before you take the pain meds" he said softly. You eased your head to the side so the injury was exposed to Killer's expert fingers. His warm digits were soon smearing and massaging the muscle cream gently into your skin.

"How's... he?" you asked quietly. You weren't sure you wanted to even talk about him before you've had even a coffee, but you still needed to know if he was alright. Killer sighed.

"Hmm. 'bout how'd ya expect. He just about wrecked his workshop last night in a fit but he's about as okay as you'd think this morning."

You closed your eyes at the news, saddened that he was so angry at you.

"'m sorry" you mumbled. Killer's fingers pulled back from your neck, and he gently turned your face towards him.

"He's not mad at you, he's angry at himself. He can't stand the fact that he hurt you, that he let it get to that point. And you know Kidd, if he's angry at himself, it takes him a lot longer to get through it, let alone over it. I'm keeping an eye on him though, so don't you worry."

You frowned at his words.

"Then who's taking care of you?"

Killer smiled and let out a chuckle. His hand stroked your hair back from your face and he planted a kiss on your forehead.

"It helps me to take care of you two, okay? Last night was... a little scary. But we're going to be okay."

You sighed, wishing you could nuzzle into his broad chest, but you knew he had to make sure the ship was running properly despite the captain being... preoccupied.

"Okay" you murmured quietly. He gently stroked your hair and smiled at you.

"C'mon. Let's get ya up and some food in ya" he said, reaching down to scoop you up. You eagerly wrapped your arms around his neck and let him pull you out of your cozy blankets. He helped you get dressed in some loose fitting clothing, and a shirt with a wide neck so your injury would be accessible. Before you left the room, you hesitated.

"Is he going to be in the kitchen?" you asked meekly.

"Nah. I brought him some food earlier in his workshop. He'll be there most the day probably" Killer answered. There was a whisper of regret in his voice, and you grabbed his hand and squeezed once, reminding him that he wasn't alone..

"Let's go then" you said, opening the door. Killer squeezed your hand back, and followed you to the kitchen.

You ate and drank your coffee, favoring the one shoulder and unable to turn your head very much. Your crewmates gave you some curious glances, but it wasn't uncommon for someone to be injured on the ship. You were pirates, after all. It was odd though that it was you. Kidd and Killer were the strongest fighters on the ship, and couldn't help but watch over you on the battle field. You finished your breakfast, visited the loosely termed "infirmary" to grab some pain pills, and then headed to your favorite space on the ship- the mouth of the... sea king? dinosaur? You weren't entirely sure which it was, and you never were invested enough to ask. The weather was sunny, calm, and breezy.

You sighed as you settled into a chair that was placed there earlier. Someone walked up behind you, and cleared his throat. You froze, scared it was Kidd.

"What."

"Killer told me to bring you a book and some snacks, so here" Heat spoke. At the sound of his voice, you relaxed, and waved your hand on the non-injured side.

"Come on this side so I can see you" you said softly. Wire walked around, and placed a small, light table next to you, and put down a tray of various drinks, snacks, and a few books. He crouched down to the side of you, and you smiled at him.

"Thank you, Heat" you said. He smiled a little back at you.

"Do you need any company? Some of these snacks look pretty good" he said, eying the tray that Killer had put together for you. You giggled, thankful for the offer.

"Sure, just don't let Killer know that I let you eat some food he made for me," you teased. He made a face at your comment, and grabbed a slice of fruit. At first, his appearance made you uncomfortable, but his personality quickly overcame that. He wasn't much of a conversationalist, but you still found him endearing.

"So where are ya hurt?" he asked around a mouthful of fruit. You picked up a glass of what appeared to be juice and sipped.

"Neck and shoulder muscles" you answered after swallowing and smacking your lips appreciatively.

Heat grunted.

"Ugh. Done that before. It seems that like you never realize how much you use certain muscles until it hurts to use it, right?"

You snorted.

"Pretty much."

The two of you chatted a little longer before he was called off to do his tasks. Hip took his place instead, bringing you an ice pack.

"Here, Killer told me to bring you this" she said. You took the ice pack and placed it on your injury. You sighed with a sudden realization.

"Killer set up a roster to keep me company all day, didn't he?" you asked. She nodded with a smile.

"Can't stop caring about someone ya love" she quipped. You rolled your eyes with a smile.

"Very true" you murmured.

The day passed similarly, various crew members bringing you things that Killer had sent along with them. Honestly, you even had to stare some down so you could go to the bathroom alone.

Your thoughts strayed constantly to Kidd, and how he must be feeling. You felt so conflicted. You loved him, yet you knew he went too far, but were you mad? Scared? Was your trust in him damaged?

Footsteps walked up behind you, heavier than the rest. You tensed.

"It's just me" Killer said. You relaxed, and he knelt in front of you.

"How ya feelin?" he asked. You could feel him staring at your neck and shoulder, even when his mask covered his bright blue eyes.

"It's starting to feel better now" you said quietly. Killer nodded once.

"Dinner's ready, if you want to eat" he offered. You nodded slightly and stood. He grabbed the table with the tray and books in one hand, balancing the table like a waiter would a tray. He put a hand on your lower back, and walked with you to the kitchen. It was a little later than you normally ate, having been fed snacks most the day by Killer's 'messengers'.

There was a plate set aside for you at the counter so you could watch Killer clean, just as you liked. A second steaming plate was still in the kitchen, presumably set aside for Kidd.

"Are you going to run that up to him?" you asked, looking pointedly at the plate. Killer grunted an affirmative, and started to clean the kitchen.

"Go give it to him now while it's still hot. The kitchen will still be here when you get back," you said firmly. Killer looked at you, presumably in surprise at your tone. You couldn't always tell when he had his face covered all the time. He put down the cloth he was using to wipe the counters, and grabbed the plate, walking around the counter to approach you. He cocked his head, curious. You looked down at your own plate with a sigh.

"He needs the energy to work up the courage to apologize to me, we all know how he is" you mutter. Killer laughed at your statement, and ruffled your hair gently before walking off to deliver the plate of food.

A few minutes later, you heard approaching footsteps behind you. This wasn't uncommon, as crew members dropped their empty plates off at the counter for whoever was on dish duty to wash. These were heavy, but you assumed someone had already had a few drinks after a long day of being at sea. They stopped suddenly a few feet away from you, and you gently turned your head to see what had happened.

You had fully expected to see one of your crewmates swaying with drunkenness, but instead, bright red and pale skin made your heart drop.

"You're here" Kidd said gruffly. Adrenaline shot through you, and you jumped out of your chair, wincing as your injury was tweaked. Your breath seemed to stop, and you froze after your initial reaction. You couldn't decide to run towards him or away.

"K-Killer went to find you" you answered, mentally kicking yourself for stuttering. His words from last night came back to you.

Pathetic.

Nothing but holes to me.

Please us or we'll dump you.

It deserves to cry, to barely be able to breathe.

Your breath came faster, and you desperately looked for an exit. You nearly jumped out of your skin when the door to the kitchen opened, Killer's voice entering before his body.

"I couldn't find the bast- oh. Oh." He put the plate on the counter in the kitchen and walked with even steps until he was in front of you, bending over to look directly into your eyes.

"Hey look at me. Are you ready for this?"

Your eyes flicked over his shoulder, to Kidd. He looked exhausted, angry, but not like he was going to do anything. Killer's voice soothed you slightly.

"M-maybe?" You frowned at how delicate your voice sounded. Kidd seemed to flinch at your answer. Killer put one hand on your cheek as the other removed his helmet.

"Look at me."

Your eyes found his ocean blue ones, and it calmed you a little. You noticed you were shaking. You breathed out forcefully.

"I can hear him out, if you stay here" you said honestly. You noticed Kid's flinch again, and your heart squeezed with guilt. Killer nodded, and stood to his full height to look at Kidd.

"Are you okay? Are you ready?" Killer asked. Kidd heaved a sigh, scrubbing a hand over his face.

"...Yeah"

Killer nodded once, and gestured for the two of you to sit at a table. The rest of the crew had cleared out quickly once Kidd entered the room and the tension rose.

The three of you sat at the table, Killer making you sit at the head of the table with Kidd on your uninjured side and Killer taking the seat across from Kidd.

You were tense, sitting on the edge of your seat, but Kidd seemed... defeated. He was exhausted, and slumped into his chair. He put his head in his hands, fingers running through red hair before he looked at you. You held back a flinch.

"I hurt you" he started bluntly. You glanced at Killer, who was looking resolutely at Kidd. Your hand came up to touch your neck and shoulder, looking at the table. You didn't say anything.

"I'm so fucking sorry. God, there's no words for how sorry I am. I'd do anything or give you anything for you to look at me the same. Hell, I'd cut my other arm off if that's what you wanted. I just can't..." He stopped speaking with a choked sound, and looked at you desperately.

"You need to earn that same trust back, Kidd" you said quietly. He was silent, waiting for you to continue. You looked up from the table to meet his gaze.

"And right now, I don't know how we're going to do that. I don't have any ideas, but you can't buy it with present. I still love you, but you need to prove over and over to me that you love me, and that you'll never hurt me again" you said. Anger started to bubble up in your chest.

"I don't think you can say anything like you did, at least for a long, long time. Calling me 'it', that I didn't deserve to breathe, and that you two were going to dump me if I didn't please you... Kidd. I can't hear shit like that from you. Calling me pathetic and spitting on me when I said the safe word?" Tears welled up in your eyes as you spoke, recalling his words and actions. Your fists clenched on your lap.

Kidd deflated even further with each word you spoke, and at the sight of tears in your eyes.

"I know. I know there isn't a way to change that, and if there was, I'd give up almost anything to change it. You and Killer mean everything to me. I'm hardly worthy of your love even when I haven't pulled some shit like this, but now... I'll prove it. I swear. I... I love you so much."

He pulled something out of his pocket, and you looked at his hands. He let out a wet chuckle.

"I know you said that I can't buy your trust, but I made this. It took me all night and I finished it up today. I hope you'll still accept it."

You looked in shock at the metal in his hand. It was a highly intricate, functioning, anatomically correct heart. There were tiny whirrs and clicks that acted like the sound of a heartbeat, the two sides contracting.

"It even works like a real heart. You can put liquid in there and it'll shoot out here," he said, pointing with his fingers. He paused.

"That sounds fucking stupid now that I say it out loud" he admitted. Killer had leaned forward to get a better look at the contraption. His eyes glittered at the sight of it, taking in the mechanics and how it worked. It was truly incredible. You reached a shocked hand out towards it before pulling back.

"Kidd..." you whispered.

"I'm finishing up Killer's too, and I was going to give it to the two of you at the same time but... I think you deserve this at the very least" he admitted. Breath caught in your throat, tears starting to build in appreciation. Kidd was horrible with words and emotions, but he knew metal. He knew exactly how hard he needed to work to regain your trust.

"It's 'pose ta represent me... giving my... uh... heart... to you. And Killer... as a promise," he tripped over his words, a deep blush flushing his pale face until he was nearly as red as his hair. You looked at him, letting the tears fall.

"Oi oi, do you not like it? I can change it! Just tell me! Why are you crying?" he frantically waved his metal arm in the air uselessly, trying not to reach out to touch you. You reached out to his flesh hand, covering the heart with your hand as you grasped his hand.

"It's beautiful, Kidd. I love you," you whispered. He blushed even harder, and looked down at the table.

"I love the both of you. I'm really fuckin' sorry about last night" he said quietly. You looked at Killer, who nodded in encouragement. The both of you stood, and made your way to the redhead.

You turned your back to him, moving your hair out of the way so he could clasp it.

"Put it on, then" you ordered. Kidd made a surprised sound and you heard Killer's hand clap on his shoulder. Kidd rose hesitantly, and draped it gently around your neck before using his powers to clasp the necklace. It hurt your neck too much to look down at it lying against your chest, so you brought it up to eye level, studying how the gears turned, hidden by crafted and intricate tubes and wires.

"It's incredible" you murmured. You turned around, letting yourself fall into Kidd's chest as you hugged him. You could feel him looking at Killer for permission, who rolled his eyes and hugged him too, careful of your neck and shoulder. You felt Kidd's arms wrap slowly around the both of you. The moment was sweet, but was interrupted by a loud growl from Kidd's stomach. You snorted and broke out into peals of laughter, pulling away from Kidd and Killer. You collapsed back into your chair, holding your stomach as Kidd growled at you to stop laughing as he blushed profusely again. Killer laughed as well as he went to retrieve and warm up both Kidd's and your plates.

Kidd sat back down in his chair with a huff, more energized after the hug. You smiled at him, before speaking seriously.

"Kidd... I can't forgive you yet, but I will eventually."

He ran a hand through his hair, looking at you sadly.

"Yeah. I'm a bastard, but I'm trying not to be to you. Just... let me know when you do?" he asked quietly. You nodded with a small smile, and his shoulder's collapsed as if a weight had been lifted off. He gave you a toothy grin.

"Just you fuckin wait. Imma be the the best boyfriend that'll build your trust up in no time" he boasted. You snorted before giggling.

"I can't wait" you said, honest through your laughter.

---

Notes: Before asking, no I don't think there will ever be a second part to this, but you can certainly write your own (just tag me)! :) I have to finish other fics lmao.

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everythingelseisextra · 9 months

Text

David and Goliath

Part Sixteen: Cain (Tommy's POV)

Description: Tommy fucks up. :) Warnings: references to rape, references to suicide, language, minor self harm Word Count: 3490 Tag List: @theshelbyslimited @ttaechi @weaponizedvirtue @Majesticcmey @Optimisticsandwichgladiator @zablife @princesssterek @mm0thie @callsignvenus @ay0nha @mgdixon @fairytale07 @dreamy-caramel @ce1iat @algae-tm @dragonsondragons @trentknd @nothingofsimplicity @babayaga67 @shelbydelrey @globetrotter28 @look-at-the-soul @notalxx @chaengist

Arrow House sits in silence, only half sane. The ghosts of the Shelby family haunt the entrance, their shouts echoing in your ears. The commotion in the entryway reached you, even as you sat in the master bedroom, and Polly’s cries and Arthur’s yells and John’s indignant roars fill the quiet room. You close your eyes, and you can imagine the police, Moss in their midst, forcing them into the darkened, freezing cells that you yourself sat in only a few days ago. And Tommy at the edge of it, watching his family taken from him as a consequence of his own actions, an unforgivable choice he made.

You expect him to join you when he’s ready. It tugs on you, the sense that you need to protect him from himself, but you have to trust that his ability to fight his own mind will hold out. You trust that your presence in the house is reason enough for him to keep the gun in its drawer.

You think that this will be another thing he buries so deep that he forgets there’s anything underground. This will be too painful for him to keep in his hands, and it will trickle out between the cracks of his fingers until there is nothing to hold. His family is his core, the glowing ember of warmth that lives next to the heart he likes to pretend is stone. Now, he’s lost them. Now, all he has is you.

It’s some time before he enters the room. He doesn’t look at you, just sweeps past, heading into the bathroom. He closes the door behind him and water runs softly from behind it. You wait in silence, leaning back in your chair and closing your eyes, listening to the impure silence. The water stops, the door creaks open, and his footsteps slowly walk across the room. You open your eyes to find him heading towards the door, eyes set on the wooden floor in front of him. Your eyes narrow. There’s a hesitation to each step he takes, a slight pause, a tilt of his head. You’re waiting for him. He’s waiting for you.

“Tommy.” You stand and walk over to him, your bare feet cold on the wood. Part of you wants to inject some playfulness into your words, but the rest of you knows that, after something like this, that might be his breaking point. “Hey, come sit. Take a second to talk to me.”

His gaze stays on the floor, but, almost imperceptibly, he nods. You step back and lead him over to the chair you’d been sitting in, in front of a small desk that you’d claimed as yours the past few days. You sit on the bed, facing him, hands on either side of you. Soft light flows from the window next to you, and the sunrays seem to gentle your gazes on each other, creating a sort of barrier. It’s warm on your face and reflects in his eyes, which refuse to look at you.

“I would give you a pep-talk,” you start, nervousness slowing your words. “I would tell you that you’ve had high highs and low lows, and that the pendulum will swing back up again, but I won’t. I respect you too much for that. You and I both know that life tends to kick you while you’re down. We know that there’s no such thing as rock bottom, it’s always possible to go lower. So, all I’ll say is this; I’m here. I’m not leaving. As complicated as I’m learning your life is, I’d like to try to be simple together. If you want to be alone, that’s okay. If you don’t, I can be with you.”

He leans back in his chair, sighing. Exhaustion tightens his skin over his bones, his face drawn, his eyes a little glassy. “You’re not leaving.”

“No.” You furrow your brow, confused. “Why would I?”

“My family is gone. My boy is back. I’m a new man.” He slides a small metal container from his pocket, opens it, and pulls out a cigarette. “I have no room in my life for a woman who sets no store for a man’s needs.”

You nod slowly, almost incredulous. “You’re telling me that, after all this, you want me to leave because I won’t fuck you.”

He inclines his head, reaching out to offer you a cigarette. Your jaw clenches and you ignore his hand. Your next words are clipped. “My horses are literally in your stables. I’m not sure what kind of crisis move you’re making here, but it feels like one that’ll be… how should I say this in a way you’ll understand? Bad for business.”

He lights his cigarette and takes a long drag. He speaks on the exhale. “Bad for business is a woman I can’t explain living in my house. You’re not a whore, you’re not my wife, you’re not the mother of my son.”

You chuckle. “So you’re telling me I either become your whore, marry you, or become a nanny for Charles.”

“I’m telling you to leave.”

“And then, months later, hear that you’ve blown your brains out, because no one, including me, would pick up the phone.”

“Curly will start moving your horses in the morning. I’ve covered the cost of transportation.”

“How kind of you.”

“In the meantime, you’ll pack. You’ll prepare yourself to leave.” He wiggles his cigarette at you, eyes dull.

“And what if I say no?” You lean forward, almost mocking.

“If you say no, then, unfortunately, I may have to get the authorities involved.”

“‘Yes, hello, I’d like to report that a woman who I said I’d protect and invited to live with me is living in my house. Has she committed a crime? Yes, she won’t fuck me when I want, because I’m a teenaged boy who needs to get off every thirty minutes.” You let anger slide into your voice, let it bite. “Jesus Christ, listen to yourself.”

He blinks blankly at you, then rises with a soft groan. “There’s work to be done. Please collect your things.”

“Thomas.” You stand, hands curling into fists, then relaxing. “You send me away now, you’re sending me back to the life I used to live. If you understand that, you’re as bad as the men who sold and raped me.”

His eyebrows raise in an infuriatingly bewildered expression, then he shakes his head. “I am. I apologize if that wasn’t clear from the start.”

—

Night falls. Fog fills the air around you, rises from the warm bodies of the horses. Unlike your own barn, Tommy’s is lit, and you can see the confused, wide, liquid eyes staring at you from within the stalls. Draco nickers quietly, throwing his head. He’s been your rock, your shoulder to cry on, the only comfort to you on nights where your body felt as battered and broken and abused as it had during those awful years of horror.

It’s not him you stand with, though. It’s not his mane you bury your tears in, not his warm body you lean against to carry your shivering weight. Iris had one more month of recovery before he would be able to be ridden again, and now, you have to apologize to him. You have to apologize to all of them, in time, for being unable to care for them. For forfeiting the safety you thought you had. For failing.

You would be brought back to your own property in an hour. Your horses would trickle in after you. You’d feed them, slip back into the routine of caring for them, and the timer on your life would start to count down. You could fight. You would fight. You’d fight tooth and nail, use every bit of strength built up over years of manual labor, shoot straight and fast and confident, and still, you know you’ll lose.

Iris turns his head to blink at you as you stand by his side, leaning your weight on his shoulder. You wipe your face of tears and draw yourself up, pulling your shoulders back and squaring your legs to your hips like a soldier. You stand strong. Right now, you’re a survivor. Your quiet claim to life is that you fought for it. Like David with Goliath, you stood against a gargantuan opponent and managed to live to tell the tale. And, here you are, with your bags packed, ready to walk yourself back to that Goliath and allow him to smash your skull. You have no slingshot. You have no rock. There is no God on your side.

Your fingers gently pull through the knots in Iris’ mane. You should be angry. There should be a burning anger in you that threatens to overwhelm. You should feel it in your bones, in your heart and veins, and you should act in some sort of way on it. You should set fire to his garden, release his horses to the wild.

Truth is, you don’t know how to be angry with someone. All your life, you’ve been taught to stand down, to take whatever comes without question, and to continue despite it all. You’ve been trained to cower, to take each hit without protest. A cornered animal will always bite, but an abused pet will flinch away, fearful, all the teeth beaten out of it. You weren’t meant to fight as hard as you do.

You close your eyes, and like Tommy said for you to do, you prepare to leave.

Your body has a master and it is not you, and it is not God. Caged by a twisted form of humanity, you will be an animal at a zoo. You will gawked and stared at, poked and prodded, and, behind the scenes, you will be used for all your worth. This body you were born in ripples with scars from the years of prostitution and mental torture, and it’s a cold sort of hell. So much touch and so little care. You are only worth so much. You know the literal price of your life. You know how much this body of yours sells for.

When you open your eyes, the world is in black and white. You will not see the blood they rip from your veins. You will not see the color of their bare skin. Your hand moves from Iris’ mane to your upper arm, and you press down on it, your fingernails biting into your skin. There’s an echo of pain somewhere in you, but your skin is so thick that it’s separate, a step away from your consciousness. You will not feel the penetration. You will not feel the hands grabbing at your flesh, you will not feel their bodies pressed against you. A horse calls and the sound bounces away from you, not quite touching you, and you take a deep breath. You will not hear their moans or the heated lies they tell you in the dark.

This body that is all you have will no longer be yours. It is only a matter of time.

The rest of the night crawls past you as a blur. You know you are steady. You know that you step with purpose, your head held high, with no connection with what you feel or how you will survive this. You lift your suitcase and walk down the elegant, well-lit stairs, the portraits of Tommy’s late wife staring down at you with a gaze that tells you that you are lesser. You haven’t seen him since he left the master bedroom. There’s a murmur of emotion in you when you think of him, but you brush past it in your mind. There is no room for you in his life.

A car waits out front for you. You take a deep breath and look up at the stars. When you were younger, before the world turned against you, you thought you would reach out and touch them even if it burned. Now, you know you could, and the fire would eat away at you, and you would feel nothing. You thought you’d been as close to death as you could be without dying, but this emptiness in you, this blurred vision, this hollow chest is proof that you can stand hand in hand and not die. Maybe, you think, maybe you would rather die than become a commodity once again. There is a gun in the kitchen drawer.

You slip into the back seat of the car, and, at least, it is warm. The driver glances back at you in the mirror. He says something that washes over you and away, and you turn to look out the window, then twist to look back at Arrow House. A single light shines from the drawing room, the curtain pulled back, and you know he is watching. Despicable and traitorous, he watches you crawl back to a life you said you would never live again.

You turn back as the car begins to move out of the driveway. You close your eyes and a tear rolls out. You sit in the darkness and shrink into your mind, sitting in the back of it, watching through as your body breathes and shifts and lives apart from you, without you. You wipe the tear and, eyes still closed, you melt into the atmosphere and become nothing.

The car jerks to a stop and you open your eyes. The driver lets out a slow breath and glances back at you, then looks back through the windshield.

Lit by the headlights in sharp relief, Tommy stands, breathing hard as if he’d run to stop you. You watch him, expectation in his eyes, and you see a spoiled little boy who enjoys playing games.

“Keep driving,” you say, voice hoarse.

“Ma’am, I can’t. He’s—”

“Go around.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Hesitantly, the driver inches the car forward, turning to move around Tommy, who’s eyes widen slightly.

He reaches underneath his coat and pulls out his gun, pointing it at the driver.

“Ma’am, I—” Panic fills the driver’s voice. “I’m sorry, this isn’t—”

“It’s okay. Stop the car.”

He does as you say, and, slowly, you open the door and step out into the night.

You stay where you are in the darkness, letting Tommy stay in the light. You wait for him to speak first.

“You forgot something.” His voice carries over the sound of the engine.

You cross your arms, trying to warm yourself from the cold. “Oh, did I? Please, enlighten me.”

“Come into the light, and I’ll show you.”

“No.”

He looks up at the black sky, then steps out into the darkness, coming within a few feet of you. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small square box, rounded corners, velvet wrapped. Your heart goes cold. He opens it and holds it out. A sleek, silver ring glints in the light from the headlights, golden highlights sparking. You shiver and look up at him.

“Not a whore, not a mother.” He smiles faintly. “Yet.”

You slap him. Not hard, but enough to make your point. Then, without a word, you turn and walk down the long driveway back to the house. In your periphery, you watch him reach up and touch his cheek where you hit him, then slowly close the box and place it back in his pocket.

—

He waits an hour before he seeks you out. You’re curled in the fetal position, lying in one of the spare bedrooms. You stare blankly at the wall across from you. There’s no color to your vision. The pillow has long since dried from your tears.

He knocks on the door, waits a full minute for a response. When he doesn’t get one, he quietly lets himself in. His footsteps are bare and light. He sits on the opposite side of the bed, sighing, and you close your eyes again. You’re not sure you want to hear what he has to say.

“I’m not a good man.” His voice is quiet, almost shameful, and he speaks to the ground, faint to you. “I’ve made that clear tonight. You never heard about me cause you were never in Birmingham. If you had, you’d know, I’m not a good man.”

You clench your jaw and stay quiet, wait for him to say what he thinks will make up for the pain and terror he’s caused.

He clicks his tongue, almost wincing. “Lost my family today. Decided that meant I needed a fresh start. Needed to move away from all this— this Peaky Blinders shit and focus on more gentlemanly matters. I felt possessed to get away from it all. From any reminder of it. That included you.” He takes a slow breath, sighing it out. “You reminded me, as you should have, that a better man would never send you away. I would be sending you and your horses to death or worse. It took me far too long to remember that, and for that, I am sorry.”

You open your eyes, blinking hard, trying to stop tears from rolling out once more.

“You saved my life. I can’t return the favor, not in the same way, but I can preserve yours. That I will do. I won’t try to send you away again. I understand now how misguided that was.” You feel his gaze on your back and you try to smooth out your breathing, steady yourself so he can’t see that you’re human, that you’re affected by him.

He’s quiet for a moment, then, voice weak and childish, he manages two words you never truly expected him to say. “I’m sorry.”

You sniffle and croak out a short, shaky sentence. “Am I worth anything to you?”

“Yes.” His response comes immediately. “You are.”

“Then why don’t you act like it?”

“I told you that first night. Something in me has been broken since the war. Maybe since my mum. I don’t have the words for it. You’ve seen it, now. You’ve seen it.”

You nod shakily. “You were ready to watch me drive off to my death.”

“I would never have let you leave the driveway.”

“But you let me think you would.” A tear leaks out and you angrily wipe it away. “You let me think that you cared so little about me that you would watch me go back to a life I couldn’t survive.”

“You know what I think?” He shifts towards you, turning his body so he faces your back.. “I think that you’re the first person to see the fucking rotten part of me and still stay in this house.”

“I have nowhere else to go, Tom.” Your voice breaks. “You realize that. I have nowhere else to go, and you can’t decide whether you want me or not, and I’m worthless unless I sleep with you or marry you.”

His voice drops to a mere murmur. “I want you.”

“You didn’t an hour ago.”

“I told you I was sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t enough!” You sit up, fully crying now, and face him. “You fucked up, and I don’t know where there is to go from here.”

“I do. I know where to go.” He reaches back into his pocket and pulls out the ring box. “I—”

“Stop! Stop with the fucking ring! I don’t want to belong to you, I don’t want—”

“Listen. You can say no. Just fucking listen.” His hand shakes slightly as he holds it in his lap. “I’m not a good man. I try to be, but I’m not. But you— you make me think I can be if I try. That’s a rare fucking thing. You will never belong to me. You will never belong to anyone. It’s a shot in the fucking dark, and things like this come and go as they please, but if I can, if I could, I’d like to be that shot in the dark. If it’s up to me, it’ll be us in the end. I’m not a good man, but I promise, I will be good to you and for you. Love is far, far away, but it gets closer when I’m with you. So, I’m asking you, because I need you with me, to look past the way I hurt you and see that I do care for you. I do think you’re worth something.” He reaches out and gently wipes a tear from your cheek, hand trembling. “I’m asking for a selfish thing. I’m asking for you to see the blood on my hands and love me anyway. I’m asking you to marry me.”

He is broken promises and shaking fists, and you know, he did not mean to be cruel, but that doesn’t mean he was kind to you. So, you take a breath, trying to stay steady, and you open your mouth to reply.

#only the wild ones #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #peaker blinders fandom #peaky blinder imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby fanfic #peaky fucking blinders #peaky blinders fanfic

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sapphicseasapphire · 3 months

Text

IT’S ME, I’M THE FOOL.

This whole time I’ve been saying that people with God Powers TM are Marked. They all have something on their face! (Except Legend, what’s on his face is just scales, don’t be confused).

But this WHOLE TIME I’ve been drawing Sun without her Marks. Like. She’s literally Hylia. She has God Powers, she should have them. Anyway so this is my Sun redesign for real this time. Just pretend that she looks like this in my “I am Sky” comic.

Anyway so here’s some information about her under the cut.

I don’t have a big story for her like I do for Flora because Cryptid Sky’s story barely changes Skyward Sword like at all. He’s formed that the very very end, after the Goddess’s Silent Realm, so most things involving Sun remain the same.

I will say that she didn’t always have her Marks. When she was born as Zelda, her face was clear, like every other Skyloftian. But when she fell to the Surface and began a quest of her own, when she discovered her divine origins, she started to remember. She’d pray at the springs to recover her memories and her powers, and one by one, her face would be Marked.

By the time that Link had secured all of the Sacred Flames and forged the Master Sword with them, Sun was already lost. And in her place stood a Goddess.

I don’t think that people give her enough credit for all she’s been through. Sun deserved so much better, she lost her life to Hylia’s plans just as much as Link did. And when Link merged into Sky, he was merely mimicking the transformation that his dearest friend had already gone through. Sun’s soul is still split in half, still shared between herself and her Loftwing, but in that empty part of her core lies the domineering presence of Hylia herself. Her life as she knew it is over. Is she Zelda anymore? Or is she Hylia?

She loves Link SO MUCH. When she first comes out of their thousands-of-years long slumber, she’s in shock to see that he’s gone. She falls from the amber shards and lands squarely in Sky’s arms, and Sky envelopes her in his soft wings, holding her as if she’s the most precious thing in the world. In the haze, she doesn’t realize the change in her dearest friend. But when she opens her eyes, she’s devastated.

As far as she’s concerned, it’s her fault. She used Link. Forced him to go on this quest, forced him into the Silent Realms, forced him to wield the Master Sword and the Triforce. She’s the reason that he fused with Aepon; she’s the reason that Link is gone.

But Sky laughs the same as Link would, relief in his eyes when she gathers the strength to stand. She holds her hand in his own, and it feels just like the hand she knows. His face is the same, for the most part: his hair is different and he’s got red spots on his cheeks, but the more she looks at him, the more she sees Link. And as they make it through the Temple together, as she watches Groose fawn over him, she realizes that he’s not gone at all.

He’s changed, just like she is. But just like she’s still his Zelda, Sky is still her Link. The guilt still worms its way into her chest, but as long as Sky is smiling, she’s able to see past it.

Sky does not smile for very long, as a certain Demon Lord shows up mere moments later to ruin their happy ending. To be honest, Sun doesn’t remember much of that night. She remembers the anger in Sky’s face as his body trembled on the ground. She remembers the cold cruelty of Ghirahim’s voice against her chest as she was carried away from her Link- her Sky. She remembers feeling so weak and helpless, cursing the Goddess- cursing herself- for being so useless.

And then all she knew was pain. Blinding, burning agony that enveloped her entire being. She thought she was dying, weightless and alone and scared.

The next time she opened her eyes, she was inside the Sealed Temple. Groose held her. Sky was nowhere to be seen.

She cried into Groose’s chest, something she never would have dreamed of doing a year ago, her head still reeling from that feeling of hopelessness, that pain. All at once, she was scared and relieved and safe and in danger. And Groose held her through it.

Sky would stumble into the Temple much later, limping and bleeding and spasming. His right arm would be totally friend and his wings would drag on the ground, feathers in disarray. He’d lean away from Groose and fall into Sun’s open arms. And when it was time to return the Master Sword to her final resting place, he’d do so with a heaviness in his eyes that’s uncharacteristic and a weakness in his body that’s frightening.

Both Sun and Sky take a long time to recover from that. And really, neither of them ever do. But as Sky starts to physically heal, Sun starts to see more traces of her dear Link. Being around her closest friend and newfound lover is healing, and after the adventure they’d had, they don’t leave each other’s side for a long while.

Sun is very protective over Sky, just like she always was with Link. They exchange Loftwing feathers (Sky gives her his own). And just five days after they’re reunited, they’re separated again.

Okay okay okay. This was less about Sun and more about Sun AND Sky, but they’re pretty much inseparable I think. From Sky’s perspective, there’s a lot of confusing feelings that I’ll get into when I actually write a fic (I’m starting a fic!), but Sun just loves him so much. I have a little comic series which is actually a collection of little short stories in a much bigger plot called “I am Sky.” The short comics aren’t all finished (and they can be read as stand alones) but the order they go in is:

“I am Sky” Stories: Pipit

“I am Sky” Stories: Groose (I’m not done with it I’m sorryyyyyy)

“I am Sky” Stories: Zelda

This all takes place after the Demise battle, when Sky is healing and has the chance to sit down and reflect. When he gets the opportunity to learn about himself, the person that his two halves made him. He struggles a lot, but these specific stories have a lot of comfort. He’ll be fine. Probably.

#the legend of zelda #my art #fanart #chain as cryptids au #cryptid lore #loz skyward sword #skyward sword #sapphire rambles way too long #cac art #links meet au #cryptid sky #cryptid sun

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kevcanwait · 2 months

Text

𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘺𝘦𝘭𝘭...

Waah!: The boys reaction to realizing they yelled at you when you have past trauma with yelling.

Ya-hoo!: Mn in this had a "Military" childhood, Dad treated him like a soldier and was always yelling at him whether it be commands or verbal abuse.

Yay!: Is it obvious what I'm using to label the start of my fics? lol. Anyway, Waah! is the summary. Ya-hoo! is a brief explanation or backstory, and Yay! is authors note. I need a fourth character noise for Warnings...Oh yeah! will by warnings. (Also, if you haven't got it yet, Waluigi, Mario, Peach, Luigi)

Oh Yeah!: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Trauma Triggers, The boys are unintentional dicks, Hurt/Comfort, Injuries, mentions of Blood, British Cigarette slur in Changbin's,

𝓑𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓷 (598 Words)

The door of your apartment slammed shut, making you jump. He knows to not slam doors but you put aside your slight annoyance for him forgetting when you hear him muttering. You shuffle out of your room and head to the living room where you can hear the mutters more clearly. Something about a missing track and being behind a day since they had to re-record some lines.

"Hey, Channie..." You said softly as you gently crossed your arms. You may be a strong tall boy (tm) now but Chan was starting to scare you a bit. "I-I got us food...Wasn't sure what your wanted but I got your fav-" "Mn, Just shut the fuck up!" He yelled, turning towards you. "I saw the damn food but if you payed attention to your damn phone, you would've known that I ate with the boys." "Ch-Chan...Stop. Now." Your voice wavered as your eyes began to water. "Who are you to tell me to stop?!"

The phrase made you flinch, the flash of your father about to hit you after you told him to stop yelling at your siblings made you stumble back into the wall, bumping into the side table, knocking over a vase that shatters as you slid down the wall, your hands coming up to cover your head as you beg your father to not hurt you.

The moment "Appa, No, please!" left your mouth, Chan's anger and stress from the day immediately went out the window when he realized what just happened. "Shit, Shit, Mn, I'm sorry." He swore he'd never raise his voice and seeing you like this, curled against the wall shaking, crushed his heart. "Mn, hey, jagi, can you hear me?" A sob is all he gets in reply and he sighs as tears build up in his eyes. His eyes catch the glass around your leg and he notices that you landed on some of the pieces, a few small blood patches on your sweats. He knows he needs to be gentle but he can't let them get worse as he kneels in front of you to try and move you off and away from the glass. You fight against him, your hands trying to help you crawl away but your right ends up in the glass and you cry in pain this time. "Ah, shit." Your eyes snap open to first see your hand, then the glass around you. "I-I'm sorry, I-I'll clean this up." You go to stand but Chan stops you. "No, No, N/n, let's patch you up first." "B-But I-I have to clean with the wounds...t-to be tougher." "Mn, babe, look at me." You do so slowly and finally meet his teary gaze. "Ch-Channie..." A new set of tears fall and Chan scoops you up the best he can to get you away from the mess.

"I'm so sorry, N/n. I didn't mean to yell at you, I know better, I shouldn't have taken my stress of the day out on you, I am unbelievably sorry." His hug was tight as he cried into your shoulder. "I promise I won't do that again, I promise to be more aware of how I'm feeling. I'll make it up to you, I'm sorry." You shake in his hold but slowly you melt into him, his faint cologne and tight grip calming you down as you wrap your arms around him as well. Although your leg and palm stung, you were grounded enough to know that both of you were comforting one another in that moment.

𝓛𝓮𝓮 𝓚𝓷𝓸𝔀 (950 Words)

Minho asked you a few days ago if you could meet him at his place so the two of you could finally spend time together after what felt like an eternity since the last time you saw each other.

You arrived a few minutes before him and hastily set out the food you brought, homemade from your sibling you visited a day prior. His cats surrounded you, watching you curiously as you get the food out. When you were done, you smiled at the cats before making your way into the living room and sat on the floor, Soonie crawled into your lap as Dori sat in front of you and Doongi was happily purring next to Dori as you pat his head and scratch his chin. Pausing your pets on the cat in your lap, you pull your phone out of your pocket to see if there's any updates from Minho. Five minutes ago is a message saying he's almost there and Fifteen minutes ago is a message asking if you could feed the babies for him. You're quick to remove Soonie from your lap and stand up, gathering their dishes and food when the door opens but you jump when it slams shut.

"Mn?" His tone was firm and you felt a little scared but kept in mind that he just came from either the studio or the dorms, he must've not had a good day. "In here!" You call out. "I brought my siblings home made Kimbap and Pajeon for dinner. I also picked up-" "Where's their food?" "O-Oh, it's right here." You smile gently when he reaches your line of sight. "I'm just filling Dori's-" "I sent that twenty minutes ago." "I-I know, and I have the bowls right here, just give me-" "Why didn't you do it when I texted you?" "M-Min, it's not a big deal. Look, I have their bowls." "Not a big deal? You're starving them." "Oh come on, Minnie, you're being overdramatic."

You kneel down and set the bowls near the cats before standing up and turning towards your boyfriend. "See? Now they're fed." You sassed, going to walk past him to go to your food when he blocked your path. "Minho, what is wrong with you?" You snapped. He suddenly grabbed your wrists and you whimpered at the tightness. The backbone you gained over time from your childhood was suddenly out the window as fear crept up your spine. "O-Ow, Min, you're hurting me." "I don't care. I asked you to do one simple task and you blew it off."

Tears gathered in your eyes as your thrown back to the one night you didn't do the dishes, too busy trying to finish an important, grade-on-the-line school project, and your dad came home to see the half filled sink. He had grabbed you, dragging you into the kitchen. You complained that he was hurting you and that phrase was uttered before he threw you in front of the sink, you had a bruise on your side for a week.

The tears finally fell as you squeezed your eyes shut. "M-Minho, please stop, I'm sorry I didn't feed them earlier." "Why are you crying? There's no need to be crying, you don't have a reason to cry." He shoved you backwards and you stumble into Soonie's food bowl, spilling his food as he jumps away as another memory flashes, your father said the same thing when you cried after seeing him shove your mother to the ground. You whimper quietly, stuttering as you shrink in on yourself. "I'm sorry, Appa, I'll do better, I'm sorry." Your eyes open to see the food at your feet and you silently kneel down onto both of your knees to clean your mess.

Minho was frozen, mulling over his thoughts before he sighs. He realized what happened, the night prior he slept at the dorms and was so happy he'll get to see you the next day but he had woken up with a nasty headache, fighting through the slight throb in his temples at practice and at the studio. This was his fault, twenty minutes really wasn't a big deal to get mad over but he was tired, annoyed, and in pain, he just wanted you and his babies and when he saw them without food, he just broke. He sighs as he gets on the floor with you, picking up the food with you. When all of it was back in the bowl, you suddenly picked it up and hastily walked back to the kitchen.

Minho's eyes followed you, watching you dump the bowl before pouring new food back into it. "Mn-ie..." He stood when you came back in. A gentle hand on your bicep, he takes the bowl, setting it down for the mewling cat at his feet before placing his other hand on your other arm to turn you towards him. "Jagiya, I'm sorry." He bends his knees to try and look at your eyes, tears gathering but not falling. He sighs again, standing up straight and wrapping his arms around you. He didn't say anything, he just cradled you, rubbing your back as you let the tears fall and soak his hoodie. You could tell he felt bad, gentle kisses placed on the top of your head and a couple on your cheek or hoodie-clad shoulder while he swayed the both of you gently. You take a step to try and push yourself further into his hold, wrapping your arms around his middle and his arms tighten around you. "I love you, Mn...I'm sorry." You sob into his shoulder, burying your face further into his shoulder. "L-Love you, M-Min..."

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓫𝓲𝓷 (635 Words)

You knew Changbin had a bad gym day and you did everything to cheer him up and make him feel better. You made him your noodle recipe from your mom that he absolutely loves, you drew him a warm bath when he texted a small ‘Almost home’. You sent him a quick message saying you love him and can't wait to see him but he didn't reply. Today must've been really bad, hopefully your little set up in your dining room will make him happy.

When Changbin came home, you smiled, finishing up dinner before walking out of the kitchen to greet your boyfriend, but as soon as you reached the entryway of your home, the air shifted and you realized that your Binnie was in a really bad mood as you made your way to the front door. “Hey, Bin.” “Hey.” “I, um, I drew you a bath…a-and I made your favorite recipe from my mom for dinner. It's ready when you finish your bath.” “Thanks.”

You wring your hands together before taking a stuttery inhale. “Y-You okay, Bin? I-Is there anything I can do…for you?” “No, you can't do anything.” “Excuse me?” “You can't do anything.” “Binnie, you don't mean that.” You give a weary smile and hesitant chuckle. “You just might be stressed and tired-” “Now you're suddenly aware of how I’m feeling? How would you know how I’m feeling?” “Bin-” “Stop, just stop.”

He shoves past you, his built shoulder shoving you into the wall and your left hand lands on the wall to stop yourself from colliding with the wall as you turn and watch Changbin walk away. “Bin, hey-” “I just told you to stop! Like I said, you can't do anything, you can't even listen properly.” His voice was rising the more he spoke and he turned back to you, taking slow steps towards you.

“Changbin, stop taking to me like that.” Your eyes grew glossy as you tried to hold in your tears. “Why are you crying? You're so pathetic.” “Changbin!” “Don't yell at me, you don't have a reason to yell at me!” Suddenly he's grabbing your arm and pulling you from the front door entryway to push you into the livingroom. Unfortunately, you managed to trip over the corner of your rug and you landed on your side at the same time your head connected to the side of the coffee table. You yelp in pain, feeling as if you were fifteen again when your dad found out you had a boyfriend, furious that his son was a ‘Weak Fag’ and ‘pathetic’ as you collided with the wall next to the television.

The tears fell and you let out a sob as your head pounded. You reach up to your temple and pull your hand back to find some blood, looking back up to see Changbin still standing there, staring, still angry as if he didn't realize what he just did.

You got up with shaky legs and ran to the bathroom, aiming to patch your wound but the first thing you do is slide down the door with a sob and pull your phone out, calling the first contact that you manage to navigate to. Meanwhile, Changbin tossed his hands up when you ran to the bathroom, amused that you ran away from him, still not aware of what just happened.

A few minutes later, the still unlocked front door was pushed open and he got a small glimpse of Felix rushing to the bathroom before Chan was slamming the door closed and pushing Changbin against the wall. “What the fuck-” “What is wrong with you?!” “What?” “You know he has abuse trauma, why the fuck did you do it?” “What do you mean?” Suddenly, Chan slaps him, and gestures to the room. “Look around, Changbin.” There's a few blood droplets next to the coffee table, staining your messed up rug from when you tripped, Felix trying to get you to open the bathroom door, and on the dining table were dishes ready for dinner. What really brought Changbin to reality was the number two balloon and what looked like a custom banner saying “I love you, Binnie, Happy Two Years.”

Fuck

Your guy's anniversary…

(I'm ending his here but if a pt.2/continuation is wanted, I'll get it to you :)...)

𝓗𝔂𝓾𝓷𝓳𝓲𝓷 (1083 words)

With the couple years you guys have been together, you had finally gained courage to suggest that Hyunjin moved in with you. Not like move in physically, he still lives with the boys at the dorm, I mean you let him claim your guest room to be another art studio for him. It was already your own little work space but you donated the bed, cleaned it up, reorganized, and got new furniture to surprise him with it for your one year anniversary.

Now, most of your home is covered in paintings that he's made. Either permanently or just to get it out of the room. He was with the boys when you were cleaning around, your last room of the day being the studio. You didn't do much, knowing how Hyunjin likes his things where he puts them, the most you did was put blank canvases together in the corner and put things back where you knew they belonged and knew your boy wasn't using the item anymore.

You were moving to your side of the studio when your foot slips slightly and you notice a brush of his. It was still usable but the handle was messy and slight warn and the bristles were beginning to fray. Looking at his desk, you see the other brushes which seem to be in the same state. You didn't think about it to much before smiling, biting your lip to keep the grin from spreading too wide before making your way to a set of drawers next to your desk, a collective catch all and your lucky that he's never opened the bottom drawer which contains new brushes. Black handles with a gold metal holding clean brown bristles, custom made with a little engravings on them. "Forever my prince" and "Hwang No.1". You've had them for a while, waiting for the right moment to give them since whenever you brought up the topic, he'd say the ones he has are still useful but it wasn't about just replacing his brushes, one of the brushes engravings was "Ln Hyunjin." You finally were going to propose.

You collected the old brushes and moved them to the long drawer on your desk to hide them, throw them away later. You then got an unoccupied small white vase and placed the brushes in like a bouquet before writing and small note, a simple 'Just because gift ~Mn <3' that you place next to the vase. You would've given them physically but you had some errands to run with your sibling, that's why you were cleaning, killing time.

After running errands, you came back and heard small muttering in the studio, smiling when you see his shoes before it falls when you see the slight disarray your living room was in. "Damn it, Mn, what did you do with them?" You heard him huff. What did you do? Walking down the hall, you see a few of your new brushes for him and your chest grows tight. "Jinnie?" "Mn! Where are my brushes?" "D-Didn't you see I got you new ones?" "I didn't need new ones, Mn! The ones I had are ones I'm use to." "So because you didn't want to try out the ones I bought you, you throw them on the floor?" "Mn, I didn't need new ones to begin with! If you listened to me, I wouldn't be yelling at you!"

"If you listened to me, I wouldn't have to punish you!" Your dad yelled a day after he said "Listen closely, you don't say a word about what I did to mom, I won't punish you for not cleaning the truck like I told you to do." The same day you gave in and begged your teacher that day at school to help save your family. You just wanted away from that man, you didn't want to be near him anymore but when the cops showed up, he lied, and when they left, let's just say you missed a week of school due to some bruises and your father didn't want to get caught. That's when you realized he only cared about himself and how people see him.

"I-I'm sorry...Y-You always get m-me gifts, I-I was just returning th-the favor..." "Well, you didn't have to. Now where are they?" "I-In m-my desk..." You suddenly felt like a little boy again, you felt small, confined, trapped. You wipe at your eyes with the bottom of your palm, sniffing as you watch him kick the other brushes away. "J-Jin?" "What?" He snapped. "I-I'm sorry, J-Jin-nim, I'm sorry." Chocking back a sob, you step back and run out of the room. "Jin-nim?" Hyunjin mutters to himself confused before his eyes widen, looking at the brushes before the ones in his hands clatter to the floor and he's chasing after you. You were forced to call your father Mister Jin.

Your shoes were missing and your front door was open. "Shit." He quickly slid his shoes on before running out the door. He could see you not that far away as he was quick to catch up to you, wrapping his arms around you to stop you from walking farther. "Mn, Muse, hold on." He turned you around to face him, a hand on the side of your face to gently guide your gaze up to him. "Mn, I'm sorry." "What?" You blinked a couple times before you realized it was Jin. Your Jin. "Hyunjin?" "Yeah, it's okay. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to yell, I didn't mean to get rational, I-I don't know what came over me, I should've just asked." "Y-You didn't even see the brushes...Did you?" "N-Not really...I-I really am sorry."

You reach a hand up to his, leaning into his touch before you remove his hand and walk back home. When you return, to pull him to the studio, picking up the fan brush with his name. "This is your last name." "I know." You pull him further into the studio but he stops to look at the other brushes as you move to your desk drawer, reaching to the back to pull out a ring.

You turn around, admiring Hyunjin for a moment before walking over to him, placing a gentle hand on his elbow to get him to look at you before smiling when his eye catches the ring instead. "Mn..." "I know you...just yelled at me and I have so many problems but...be mine?"

Got carried away with Hyunjin's but I'm a writer who loves details but sorry this took so long. Ended up making this two parts cause I didn't know what to do for the maknae's cause my brain thinks they're too precious to hurt someone but I will think of something. For now, I hope you...enjoyed? It's kinda weird to say I hope you enjoyed this since it's a trauma fic 😬 N E WAYS, I just hope it's okay.

Tagging @lakee-jakee and @belladonna6-6-6 who commented on the original post of me asking if anyone wanted this. It do finally be done :)

#straykids x male #stray kids x male reader #male reader #stray kids #stray kids hyung line #bang chan x male reader #lee know x male reader #changbin x male reader #hyunjin x male reader

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coldfanbou · 4 months

Text

TM Side Story: Confused

A short side story focusing a little more focused on Jisoo's point of view after Sana's loss. @twice-inamillion

Jisoo turns her head, watching everyone go by. The house seemed busier than usual, everyone moving around and comforting one person. Jisoo waddles toward Jihyo, patting her leg while she’s talking to you. “M-m-mama.” Jisoo manages to get out. Jihyo gives a soft smile and extends her arms. Your first child lifts her arms up, and Jihyo takes her high into the air. You tickle Jisoo's belly, making her laugh before a piercing cry takes your attention away. Jisoo watches you head into a different room. Her mother carries her to your room, changing Jisoo into different clothes before telling her to play with the others. Jisoo shuffles around the house, trying to find Ari or Hina to play with, checking every room.

As she's checking the rooms, Jihyo squats down in front of her, saying something about being a good girl before hugging Jisoo. Jisoo gives her a nod and presses her body against Jihyo's shoulder. Jihyo can't help but grin and Jisoo smiles right back, waving as Jihyo leaves again. Now alone, Jisoo continues her journey through the house, her little feet stomping on the wooden floors as she searches for her sisters. Jisoo begins to babble, calling out for Ari and Hina, and hears a response. She hurried down the large hallway, excited to know where at least one of them was. Before she can get to the end of the hallway, Jisoo sees Ari crawling along the floor. They grin at each other, happy to run into each other. Jisoo stomps her feet before losing balance and falling onto the floor, she got too excited. Ari gets distracted by the soft sounds of someone crying and checks the source. The door was slightly ajar, and she moved into Sana’s room. Seeing that the woman who had taken care of her was crying, she did her best to crawl to her.

“M…Mama.” She mutters as she crawls to Sana with determination. From the hallway, Jisoo sees Sana look toward Ari, her eyes red and a tired frown on her face. It looks to you like she’s in pain. “Mama,” Ari repeats as she continues onward; her arm goes out as far as it can before coming down onto the floor to help move her along. Sana reaches out for Ari, letting her climb into her arms and holding onto her desperately as she begins crying. “Mama, no,” Ari says, her little arm trying to reach Sana’s face. Sana pays no attention, continuing to clutch Ari while apologizing for something. She rocks back and forth with Ari in her arms. DaEun's cries catch Jisoo's attention. It was coming from a different room. Turning her eyes back to Sana, Jisoo watches Sana's grip tighten on Ari as she continues to cry.

Jisoo was unsure what to do, so she walked toward Sana. Sana didn't notice her until Jisoo patted her arm. Jisoo wanted Sana to feel better and gave her a soft smile and moved her hand down to her belly. She had seen the members doing that to Sana often and thought it would help, but Sana began wailing. It startled the young child, making her fall backwards. Jisoo tries to hold back tears and is lifted into the air before she can cry. Jeongyeon bounces her up and down, telling her not to cry. Jisoo looks down at Sana. She was looking down at the floor, weeping as she clutched at Ari.

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wen-kexing-apologist · 4 months

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Late top 5 ask because I just thought of it: 5 shows that you are always down to rewatch

What a great question that is also such a mean and incredibly evil thing to ask me, wen-kexing-apologist, Chronic Rewatcher lmfao

So fun fact I have seen KinnPorsche 14 times, Our Flag Means Death 11 times, The Old Guard 11 times, Heartstopper 11 times, The Eclipse probably 6 times, Bad Buddy and ITSAY 4 times, etc, etc, etc. And those are counting all the times I have watched a show all the way through. This is not counting the number of times I have actively gone back to watch specific episodes or specific scenes.

See the problem is sometimes I hyperfixate and then I just have to watch it until it is out of my system, sometimes an OST pops in to my head and then I get the urge to watch the show again, and sometimes I agree to edit the transcripts for the backlog of @the-conversation-pod and @bengiyo and @shortpplfedup start talking about a show and I'm like "ahhh good times! I should rewatch that!"

So you can imagine the stress I am under. I'll have to do this by category

Show I Am Constantly Rewatching: Bed Friend

gif by @perths

I know what you may be thinking, and yes you are correct I am in this rewatch for Uea's emotional journey. Uea is my sweet summer child, I love him, I have adopted him in to my family, his happiness is my happiness and I love love love watching him go from a quiet, reserved, unhappy character who keeps getting put in unfair situations through no fault of his own in to this confident, vibrant, happy person who is on his way towards healing. Often times it can be hard for me to pick A Favorite thing; a favorite character, a favorite scene because there are so. many. good. ones. But I am constantly, and I mean constantly rewatching the scene in Episode 8 where Uea tells King about his past. I have lost count of how many times I've seen it, no even kidding I watched that scene before I went to bed just last week. I will always always be down to watch that show because I love seeing how far my boy is able to grow with just a little bit of love, care, and therapy.

Show I Would Rewatch for an Instant Mood Boost: If It's With You

gif by @jimmysea

I have a difficult time understanding/feeling emotion in my body unless I abstract it in to fiction. So when I experience strong emotions it is typically when something super happy or super tragic happens on screen, in a book, during my D&D game, etc. One of my absolute favorite things is when something makes me so happy that my body is no longer able to contain it and I have to do the Neurodivergent Hand Flappies(TM). I think I spent 80% of this show grinning so hard it hurt my face and doing the Neurodivergent Hand Flappies because it just...they made me so happy. Amane is so sweet, and he deserves happiness, and he is getting his happiness and he's just full of sunshine and I already rewatched this show like immediately after it finished. This show joins my This Could Fix Me list.

Show I Would Be Down to Rewatch for Emotional Catharsis: Eternal Yesterday

gif by @duckflyfly

I have not rewatched this show...yet. But I want to, and I know that I will eventually. I can only imagine that it is sadder and more evil the second time around. I cried soooo hard over this show. But it is beautiful, and it is healing, and the pain is a good type of aching pain that comes with coming to terms with grief. With acknowledging grief. With finding where the beauty and peace lie within death and memory, and the way its claws dig in to you and leave you changed forever. Ghosts can be warm, and this show makes me warm despite it all.

Show I Would Be Down to Rewatch for Content: I Told Sunset About You/I Promised You the Moon

gif by @thii-nii

I think I am in @shortpplfedup's camp about how you find new things to think about every time you watch this show. I actually desperately, desperately own I Promised You the Moon several rewatches because I have seen ITSAY four times at this point and IPYTM once. I am currently rewatching IPYTM with a friend who is seeing it for the first time, so that should help. But the first time I watched this show I was unable to function to notice anything, and it wasn't until the third time I'd watched ITSAY when I was rewatching it to prepare for the podcast panel, that I finally was able to form any level of coherent analytical thought to it. So I would rewatch this at any point just to see what more I could pull out of it.

Show I Would Be Down to Rewatch But Haven't Yet: 180 Degree Longitude Passes Through Us

gif by @dingyuxi

Bold, based on how intense of a reaction I had to this show, I know. But this was one of my favorites, I never wrote anything about it because I was too busy having a literal mental breakdown over it, one that was so bad I almost had to bail on the entire show with like...20 minutes left of it, and I originally nixed my plan to show it to a friend. BUT I have watched the specific scene that did me in (and only that scene) and it went over fine once I knew to expect it so I do want to watch the whole thing again. I have a friend who I have been forcing to watch BL shows I liked and I watch them with her, and this is on the list. However, I am currently running her through I Promised You The Moon and What Did You Eat Yesterday? Season 2 so this show is still quite a ways out from a rewatch because I am not a total monster and want to give her some modicum of emotional break between those two shows and 180 Degree.

Bonus:

Show I Would Never Rewatch: Enchante

I hate this show truly an unreasonable amount. I hate Theo so much oh my fucking god. I refuse to watch this again and I'm mad that I finished it.

ASK ME MY TOP 5 OF ANYTHING BL

#best of bl #ask game #bed friend #bed friend the series #if it's with you #kimi to nara koi wo shite mite mo #eternal yesterday #eien no kinou #i told sunset about you #itsay #i promised you the moon #ipytm #180 degree longitude passes through us #180 degree #180d #the true answer to this is: my list of shows i'm always down to rewatch is long #my list of shows i will never rewatch is very very *very* short

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kanonavi · 2 months

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hello tumblr user kanonavi who is 1/3rd of the reason i started rereading tgcf. i have come to collect my personal apology for the emotional damages inflicted upon me for the past 5 days. and i have also come with THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS (mostly feelings)

- icb i put off this reread so long hualian are so romance. theyre jsut Romance......... absolutely floored by every throwaway bit of dialogue they had....... in shambles forever....,

- sqx arc was not as painful as the first few times i read it bc i now stand with my cancelled wife (he xuan) I STILL LOVE SQX AND THEY DESERVE EVERYTHING GOOD. BUT HX WAS REAL FOR ALL OF THAT. i love revenge

- i wanna know your thoughts on ling wen bc u mentioned having mixed feelings on her but i loved her so bad all the way to the end so im curious ljdkdjf

- i am not immune to backstory arc pt2. read it last last (?) night at like 3am and cried myself to sleep its just so gutting every timeeeeeee.... the hc plot that builds in that arc is ofc one of my favorites in the entire novel though :')

- the chapter w the cave of statues took me like 2+ hours to get through because i was feeling so insane abt it

i feel bad dropping this block of text in ur askbox sorry. will leave it there for now LOL

Omg hiiiii tumblr user stardust-make-a-wish welcome back from the yaoi cocaine pit :3 I know you're here to collect emotional damages, but I must make it known that I'm not even remotely sorry <3

Also you should feel bad for yourself instead of for me because I can only respond to huge blocks of text with even bigger blocks of text, so (TGCF Spoilers Ahead) and also I am so sorry lmaooooo

UGH you're so right that hualian is the most romance forever they are just so *clenches fists and sobs*....... They're always there for each other and they're so in love and they've been through so much and I just want them to be able to rest because it's what they deserve.

I will never once say that Hu Xuan wasn't justified in everything he did cuz like. Shi Wudu had it coming what a piece of shit. But at the same time Qingxuan is my wife and I will not tolerate my wife being harmed. So like revenge slay yes but also I am still cancelling He Xuan and spraying him with the water bottle (even though he is already very very damp).

Yesyesyes Ling Wen. So my thought about Ling Wen is that she kinda girlbossed a little too close to the sun, but at the same time you look at her circumstances both past and present and have to understand why she did all of that. It already would have been hard enough for her to gain any kind of recognition as a woman, much less in the Heavenly Court, so her ruthlessness is completely understandable. But at the same time, I don't really think the Brocade Immortal deserved what she did to him nor was taking Bai Wuxiang's side in the final conflict a real cool thing of her to do. I can't fully be a hater though because her own thoughts about everything are clearly so nuanced (See: The final convo she had with Xie Lian about the Brocade Immortal, which I am still thinking so incredibly hard about to this day).

I think that Ling Wen is interesting in the same way that I find other characters like Mu Qing, He Xuan, and Yin Yu interesting. It's in the sense that even if I don't really agree with all of the actions that they took, it's very easy to look at them and come to an understanding of why they did what they did. And I have varying degrees of like for all of the characters I just listed, but that doesn't change the fact that they're all Compelling. So it's almost like a begrudging respect that I feel for Ling Wen, if I were to boil it down into simple terms.

aaaaaaaaaa The Horrors(tm) :sob: Even though I could talk about Xie Lian's arc through that part of his backstory for a million years, you're so right that Hua Cheng's arc through it is also so interesting to watch. It really goes to prove that Hua Cheng is different from everyone else in Xie Lian's life up until this point, because yes there's the very obvious throughline of Hua Cheng wanting to protect Xie Lian (rather than expecting his protection), but even more importantly that feeling never changes even when Xie Lian has his mini corruption arc.

Like, Hua Cheng fell in love with the pure and virtuous Crown Prince of Xianle but not for that quality. Instead of being ashamed and looking at Xie Lian with scorn when he was like "What if I kill everyone actually" Hua Cheng is like "Then let me be your sword". There's the element of not wanting Xie Lian to dirty himself that Hua Cheng carries for the entire story but the point is in that he is not a voice who would tell Xie Lian to stop having those thoughts if it's truly what he wants (Unlike what his parents or Feng Xin and Mu Qing would probably say).

I'm going to write an essay about their character dynamic one day istg I am chewing through the drywall

The cave statues chapter......... *passes away*. Like on one hand that chapter is so funny because yes Hua Cheng is just an absolute certified freak (POV my roommate telling me earlier on in my reading that HC is a porn addict and me being like "pssht noooo" but then getting to this chapter several months later and being like "O h.") but on the other hand THE CONFESSION??????? Like. All I can do is gesture wildly at the storyboard animatic that someone made of that scene on YouTube while absolutely fucking sobbing. There is a reason why the cover of volume 6 felt somehow more intimate than the cover of volume 4 where they're literally making out.

Anyway I'm patting Hua Cheng on the head like It's okay buddy Xie Lian loves you because you're a certified freak, he's seen too much of this world to be weirded out even a little bit. Which is why those two are perfect for each other <3

I'm glad you had so much fun on your reread, have fun with the brainworms :3

#navi answers #stardust-make-a-wish #Once again I am so sorry for my ability to Talk lmao

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ttringgirl · 9 days

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How was your first handjob?

Hii guys<3

Sorry i totally forgot to update the blog fsr. Ig thats what happens when you break your phone a bit tm

It was everything i wanted and more, i devoted myself to pleasing him.

I started off slow stroking him while on my knees in front of him. I didnt mean to be on my knees, he just pushed me down. I looked up at him while he started groaning. He looked down on me like i was an inferior toy. I started speeding up my strokes while staring at his thick cock.

Ive never had anything that thick inside me and it made me so wet thinking about how itd feel pounding inside me.

I sped up and he kept telling me to go faster, my hand started aching but i didnt dare pull away. Eventually, i saw somethig change in him as he got more and more impatient with my flimsy fast strokes. He suddenly grabbed my hair and slameed me back into a wall. I cried out in pain anf he took that chance to shove his thick cock in my mouth.

I started choking almost immidiately as he roughly fucked my throat, moaning and saying how much of a slut i am and that this is how i should always serve my superiors. My eyes were red as tears streamed down ny face and my jaw stung.

Soon enough, he shoved himself deep into my throat and slammed me against the wall and cummed in my mouth. He kept a hold of me in that position until i choked and drank evey last drop. When he pulled out finally, i was crying heavily with drops of cum dribling out of my mouth. He told me that i looked like a princess while i was crying and kissed roughly. He then pulled me up by my hair and lead me to his bathroom where we had a nice warm bath.

I love him so much i love fufilling my purpose<3

#cnc k!nk #cnc free use #cnc rough #cnc stalking #free use slvt #rap3 fantasy #rough daddy #rap3toy #use me use me use me

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remuslupinsdaughter · 26 days

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Protection

Sons of anarchy x child

Summary: just a story I thought of where a young girl of around 12 runs away from her abusive father and goes to the sons for help

Warnings: trigger warnings for this one, abuse, swearing, physical and mental abuse, lots of angst, hints of sexual abuse

Enjoy my loves!!

Charlie froze as she heard her father’s keys jingle in the front door, she put her book down and sat bolt upright as she listened to him drop his keys in the bowl and open the fridge, “CHARLOTTE” he yelled, Charlie scrambled to her feet and quickly went to the kitchen where her father was stood looking at her angrily, he was clearly drunk, “the hell are you doing?” He slurred, Charlie stammered, “I…I was just studying in my room” she backed away from him and pulled her sleeves over her hands, her father swiped a vase off the counter angrily, Charlie turned to run but her father grabbed her by the hair, she screamed out in pain, “SHUT UP” he yelled and slammed her against the counter, she cried out and slumped down against the floor, she curled up and sobbed as her father walked straight past her to the living room, kicking her hard on his way.

Charlie dragged herself to her feet, tears still streaming down her face, she limped to her room and grabbed her backpack, she grabbed clothes from her drawers and stuffed them in the bag.

Charlie snuck out her room, peering down the hallway, her dad was passed out asleep in his chair, she snuck through the house to her front door and grabbed the keys from the bowl, her dad coughed making her freeze, she heard his snoring again and quickly unlocked the door and ducked out.

The night air was cold, Charlie shivered, pulling her jacket closer to her, Charming was a small town, everyone knew her father as Brian Hansley, the local butcher, everyone also knew that if you were in trouble and needed help, you go to the local biker club, the sons of anarchy.

Charlie’s feet ached, she’d been walking for around an hour, she approached TM auto shop, the gate was closed, she tried to pull it open but was quickly met with an extremely intimidating man holding a gun. Charlie stumbled backwards, holding her hands up, “beat it kid” the man said, “no wait please! I need help, I need to speak to the president please” Charlie pleaded, the man looked her up and down, “wait here” he said and walked over to the group of bikers sat on the benches.

Charlie shivered and played with the sleeves of her jacket, the bikers looked over at her, the man back over, “gimme that backpack” he said , Charlie handed it over, the man nodded her over to follow him, Charlie followed behind him nervously.

As she approached the group of intimidating man Charlie felt herself getting more and more nervous, the men stared at her, “prospect says you wanted to speak to us?” A man smoking a cigar said, Charlie looked at the men staring holes in her, she stammered, almost like she’d forgotten how to speak English.

“Come on kid, what’re you doing out here at two in the morning by yourself you’re what ten?” The man said, “twelve” Charlie mumbled, she took a breath, “you guys protect people right?” She asked, the man nodded and took a drag from his cigar, “why you in some kind of trouble?” He replies, Charlie nodded, “I need you to protect me from my dad” she blurts out, the biker clubs curiosity grows, “what’d he do?” A different man asked, with long blonde hair, Charlie tenses and plays with her sleeves again, “he gets real drunk, beats the shit out of me, I can’t stay there any longer, sometimes his friends come over, they try and do stuff to me” tears form in her eyes, the blonde man exhales angrily, “Jesus Christ”.

“What’s your dad’s name honey?” A different man asks, “Brian Hansley, he’s the local butcher for Charming” Charlie replied, using her sleeves to wipe her eyes. The man with the cigar takes a deep sigh, “church” he says and stands up, walking inside the clubhouse, the rest of the men follow.

#child reader #sons of anarchy #jax teller #opie winston #tig trager #clay morrow

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iiguess · 1 year

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mun vs muse!

TAGGED BY: @tres-fidelis TAGGING: @tomahawk-swing, @em-dualism, @gamenu, @stxr-bxster, @beauthief and you!

#;; world hopper ( main verse. )#;; the girl who cried wolf ( persona 5 au )#did it for both her main and p5 verse!#as you can expect she is. much more serious in her p5 verse aKHDALHDS #when will I give this girl a break from Pain and Suffering(tm)?#the world may never know-#;; from one story to the next ( tag game. )

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 10 months

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hii! could i get a thatcher Davis x fem!reader (fluff + angst), where she's his new work partner (say he isn't presumed dead and went back to work) who wants to support him and comfort him while he opens up too her, they get closer and end up together within a few months as a couple and the WHOLE station is aware 😭

Awh yeah,,,,Gotta give this man love and support through all the Horrors(tm)

...............

"What? They're assigning her to me?"

"I really don't see why it's a problem, Davis..considering you forwarded her application. She's just as interested in investigating the Alternate threat as you are, so they figured you two could work together on-"

"But I thought I made it pretty clear that I wanted to work on future cases solo. Because the last time I had a partner-"

"Look, I understand losing Weaver was painful..but that was 17 years ago. And the higher-ups are getting worried about you taking on all these cases by yourself, especially with your extended leave and the close calls you've had with those things."

"...so they think I need a goddamn babysitter?"

"There's no need for hostilities, Davis."

"Sorry, captain. I mean no disrespect, but..do you all really trust me after what happened? I mean...I just don't wanna see one more person suffer for my mistakes, especially not some rookie.." Thatcher mumbled the last part under his breath, averting his gaze from his superior.

He heard them sigh, although their tone became more sympathetic as they spoke once more.

"You're all we got now, lieutenant, and I trust you're not gonna repeat the past. Think of this as your shot at redemption. This town's lost all hope in us, but I think [l/n] can help restore some of that morale with your guidance. All I ask is that you don't scare her into quitting before she finishes her first day, alright?"

Although silent, Thatcher nodded his head in understanding, and the police captain seemed satisfied with that answer. So they walked out to call you into the office, telling him to wait a few minutes.

The moment the door was closed, he slumped back into the chair, growing increasingly aggravated as he tapped his foot against the floor.

His hands were practically itching for a cigarette right now...or a drink.

Anything to distract him from the conflicting thoughts running through his mind.

It felt like Ruth had only been taken from him yesterday. He remembers how much he cried and forced himself to grieve alone, burdened with the knowledge that he couldn't tell the department the real story of that night--of how he basically left her to die.

Of course, a memorial service was held for her. But it didn't feel like a satisfactory goodbye.

It was far from that.

So for the higher-ups to suddenly decide he needed a "replacement" felt like a punch to the gut. It's like they didn't trust him anymore.

But he then recalled reviewing your application file on his computer, seeing that you indeed showed a lot of promise:

[F/n] [L/n]--a confident and kindhearted woman around his age who studied criminology in college, passed all of her training with flying colors, taught a self-defense class in her free time, and has a decade's worth of experience in security.

You had a good heart and described yourself as "headstrong" in your personality description.

"Sound familiar?"

Hearing the distorted voice, he snapped his head towards the shadow in the corner of the room, every muscle in his body suddenly tensing.

For a split second he thought he saw the whites of somebody's eyes...

His eyes-

"Lieutenant Davis, meet Officer [L/n]."

Thatcher blinked, coming back to reality as he realized the captain had returned, stepping aside to introduce you to him.

He awkwardly cleared his throat and stood up, shaking your hand in greeting.

You politely reciprocated the welcome, although you were initially surprised by his bleached hair and facial piercings. If you were at any other police station, you would've thought he was violating the dress code.

But then again, with the Alternates running amuck it was probably best for him to look highly distinguishable from the average person (and as far as you're aware, they aren't clever enough to perfectly mimic piercings or tattoos).

Nevertheless, you were quite eager to work with the well-known lieutenant who's been here the longest.

However as soon as the captain left, he dropped his smile and gave you a rather ominous word of advice:

"Never get too attached to anyone."

In another life, he would have been more enthusiastic about training a rookie officer. But while giving you a tour of the station and all its rooms, his nihilism kept taking over his speeches.

It wouldn't let him shake the awful feeling that he basically sealed your fate...that being you could possibly die to an Alternate under his watch.

Specifically the one that's been tormenting him all these years. He still hasn't told the MCPD about it. He just can't.

It'll probably try to come for you next.

So he tried to keep his emotions at a distance so it wouldn't hurt him in the long run.

Yet you didn't let his attitude discourage you from asking questions and being as optimistic as you could, given the circumstances. You figured he's just seen some really shitty stuff in his career, understanding that's why he acted so closed-off.

At least he sounded nice in the emails.

.......

In the weeks following you being hired at the MCPD and working alongside Thatcher, things...have gotten interesting.

But they started off fairly grim.

He was still struggling to get out of bed and drag himself to the police station, trying to hide the fact he barely cared about his job anymore. His superiors sometimes had to call him in with threats of suspension, and he'd arrive looking constantly exhausted.

It's always been this way...with the exception of you asking if he was alright or getting him coffee if he forgot to make some. And while he accepted the drinks, he'd brush off any and all concerns you had over his health.

You shouldn't have to worry over him so much.

During your shifts together, you'd accompany him to places where Alternates were recently sighed (or their victims) and ask witnesses questions, or at the station where you'd review files and video footage regarding the most recent incidents, taking notes of whatever you find that he might've missed--and vice versa.

He'd often look back on files regarding the "Heathcliff Case", staring at the details even though he's reviewed them at least a hundred times over. He never elaborated on why he was so transfixed on them.

Could he really tell you that's where he immediately failed up as a lieutenant?

Absolutely not.

The one thing he kept putting off for weeks was training you on taking 911 calls--specifically those regarding an Alternate home invasion. He'd make excuses to show you other things whilst passing the headset to a different operator or officer, leading you to being confused but going along with him anyways.

It's not that he didn't believe you could handle it...he's just afraid of what you'll think when he tells you about the protocol.

However his superiors eventually caught on with his excuses and assigned you both strictly to the call center for a day.

When the first one came through, he had no choice but to instruct you through the process.

In all honesty, you felt sick to your stomach when you lied to the poor victim who said an Alternate was in her home, reassuring her calmly that help will arrive soon....when it's not coming at all. Even worse was when she begged you to stay on the line until they "arrived", although a short while later she didn't respond when you asked for a description of the intruder.

Then the call disconnected.

You had no idea if she was dead or forced to hang up, but you were irritated by Thatcher's nonchalant attitude about it, especially as he remarked that she was already "gone".

You both got into a brief argument about the cruelty of this "protocol". Of course, you knew it wasn't his fault that it was established this way, but you wished he showed a little more empathy.

Fortunately, the tension was short-lived as you received another call.

Calming yourself, you sat back down in the chair and donned the headset, dreading yet another home intruder report that you won't be able to save this person from. But you took a couple deep breaths before answering it, with the lieutenant listening to you closely.

"This is Mandela County Police, how may I help you?" You put on your most sincere voice.

"H-Hi, um..I know this isn't a real emergency so it's gonna sound stupid. Bu, I-I just..I'm very stressed about school and I need to talk to somebody. D-Do you mind if I rant?"

"...oh! Of course, hun." Immediately you were thrown off-course when you heard a timid teenager's voice on the other end instead of a panicked adult. "I'm not exactly a licensed mental health counselor, but I promise to listen for a bit."

"What?" Thatcher furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "No, no, no. [L/n], tell this kid to get off the emergency line and call th-"

You ignored him and listened to the teen vent about their anxieties regarding the Alternate situation. They didn't understand why everybody else at school acted like this was the "new norm" when it shouldn't be, as their grades began to falter and they struggled to sleep at night.

At one point they began sobbing over the phone, afraid they won't have a future to look forward to, but you reassured them their fears were valid and that they're not alone with these feelings.

Although it felt like a white lie..you told them everything was going to be okay, and shortly after that they settled down.

Meanwhile Thatcher, who was at first livid over you blatantly disregarding his instructions, listened to your voice and realized how...sweet and nurturing you sounded towards this kid--suddenly no longer wanting to intervene and terminate the call himself.

Now that he thought about it...when's the last time an officer here ever answered a call that genuinely helped someone?

The fact he couldn't remember was telling.

"I think I handled that well."

Snapping out of his thoughts, he looked to see your smug grin as you switched off the headset, having finished the call. But when you saw his face, it disappeared and you sighed, knowing he was probably pissed off.

"Look, before you given me a write-up, I know that wasn't a "real" emergency, but I'm sure I saved that kid from spiraling into one."

"No, you have a point. I'm not gonna write you up." He reassured you. "I thought they were gonna say something about their math homework."

"Well, if their biggest concern is homework and not an Alternate..then I guess there's hope for the youth in this county." You chuckled. "So what's next, lieutenant?"

"....dunno. We're almost off the clock. You wanna....grab some coffee afterwards?"

You blinked. "Huh? Like..in the breakroom?"

"Nah I mean uh..at the gas station. I need to buy some food there anyway. Got nothing for dinner at home so.." He shrugged his shoulders; although part of him regretted mumbling that last bit considering the worried look you suddenly gave him. "...uh I mean-"

"Why don't I treat you to dinner instead?" You offered, which made him do a double-take. Though you quickly backtracked, your face flushed as you realized he could've taken that the wrong way. "I don't mean that a-as like...a date or...anything like that. There's a diner downtown you might've already been to but-"

"It's fine. I know the one you're talking about." He spoke up, smiling a little bit. "I actually haven't been there at all. But if you insist I'll...take the offer. Might as well get to know each other better."

While surprised he immediately accepted the invitation, you couldn't help smiling back before another call came through, and you focused on answering it. This time Thatcher didn't intervene and simply let you work while he occupied himself at another computer.

Suddenly both of you were very eager for the last hour of your shift to pass by.

...........

The "date" at the local diner went relatively well, with you and Thatcher chatting about recent cases and personal interests.

He didn't say a whole lot about himself, claiming his life was "boring" and asked more about yours instead. But it turns out you two shared similar tastes in movies and music, recommending stuff to each other and even exchanging personal numbers after dinner.

He mentioned a story of how he started playing heavy metal music in the station back when he was a rookie officer like you, getting his first write-up for it.

It made you laugh, and it was in that moment where he felt...the smallest of butterflies in his stomach.

At the time, however, he thought it was just anxiety. So he tried not to think too much of it as you both parted ways, seeing each other back at the station for your next shifts.

But ever since that night, you've been spending a lot more time together outside of work--to the point where, a month later, Thatcher felt comfortable enough to invite you over to his place.

Obviously he had to clean up so it looked more "presentable" to you...something he hasn't done nor cared about in years until meeting you.

He didn't know how or why, but you've considerably uplifted his spirits, pulling him out of this dark ditch he's been lying in for so long. He enjoyed your company and gave him reasons to come into the station on time.

Even his coworkers noticed and were impressed, with some teasing him about having a "crush" on you.

That reality did hit him, though...he did love you. You've been his motivation and inspiration. The light in his dark world.

Yet despite genuinely looking forward to seeing you, he was still putting up his usual front..as he was, in fact, feeling more stressed than ever before.

When he first met you, he warned you to not get attached to anybody--and here he was being a goddamn hypocrite.

Surprisingly enough, that Alternate hasn't shown its face in a long time. No longer did it invade his home, whispering nonsense and taunting threats in the dead of night; it led him to wonder if it grew bored of toying with him and decided to look elsewhere for a new victim, realizing he wasn't giving into MAD.

Could you have somehow driven it off without knowing?

He stopped believing in angels long ago, but part of him wants to believe you're one in disguise.

Perhaps..she knew he desperately needed one and sent you to help him when he lost all hope.

Yet you still didn't know anything about what happened that awful night, nor the mounting pressure Thatcher has put on himself after all these years. He just wasn't sure how to bring it up and explain everything without you calling him "crazy".

But it was killing him to keep all of this inside, though he felt like he had to..lest you thought of him as a weakly coward.

He's your superior. You should be looking up to him and counting on him for help, not the other way around. He even told himself he wasn't going to burden you with his past mistakes.

At the same time, you were the kindest and most nonjudgmental soul on the planet. He learned this firsthand that day you took that anxious teen's 911 call and assured them there was hope for their future.

That's where he first believed you were someone who could be trusted.

Even if you couldn't fix everything right away...you'd listen, and maybe that's the kind of person Thatcher needed in his life all along.

He knew that eventually you'll wanna ask him about that night, and he thinks he'll be ready to do so very soon.

Besides, he's going to run out of cassette tapes at some point.

.......

On the anniversary of Ruth's passing, both you and Thatcher had the day off.

You figured you'll sleep in and not disturb him, knowing he probably wanted to be alone today. But you did send one message to check up on him, saying you're always here to support him should he ever need it.

You knew him and Ruth used to be good friends back in the day, having accepted their promotions together and speaking publicly on live television. The MCPD still retained the footage, and you watched it on your work computer, smiling as they made their speeches to the community.

If only you were there to congratulate them both...

Your superiors remarked how he never truly did get over her death, acting like it's some huge "inconvenience" that he struggled to move on.

But even you knew that it's not that easy.

How could one simply "move on" after losing a close friend to one of those monsters? It's certainly difficult and painful, though you've wondered about the circumstances of her passing, always hearing everybody except Thatcher himself talk about it.

Was there a reason?

Did they twist the story?

You weren't sure, and you didn't think he'll be willing to give you any answers.

Especially not today.

Yet a short while later, you heard your laptop make a ping noise to indicate a new message and rushed to open it, reading his response:

[Thank you, [y/n]. If you're not too busy, could you come over in an hour? There's some things I wanted to talk about. I trust you enough]

You felt your heart skip a beat, wondering what he possibly could've wanted to discuss. But you were flattered that he trusted you, considering you didn't think he'd ever grow this close to you.

You simply replied "I'll be there" and hit send before getting ready, heading to his place an hour later.

Apparently he was expecting you, as before you could even knock on the door, he opened it up instead. And for a moment you stood there, taking in his appearance.

He looked like absolute hell, as though he just crawled out of bed, wearing a baggy band T-shirt with black pants. The dark circles around his eyes have gotten considerably worse, too, making him almost look skeletal-like.

Not to mention he reeked of smoke and cheap booze, both scents masked with cologne, but you didn't let it stop you from hugging him. "I got here as soon as I could." You said, smiling as he returned the hug. "How are you feeling?"

"...alright, I guess. Thanks. Hope I wasn't bothering you."

"You weren't, trust me." You shook your head, before letting each other go.

After heading inside, you noticed all the window blinds were drawn shut and the TV was droning in the background, showing some 90s flick. If not for the screen's light, then the entire living room for sure would've been pitch black.

You didn't see any reason to remind him of the laws concerning TVs and mirrors, being more worried about whatever he wanted to discuss with you.

Yet even as you both sat down on the couch, he found himself hesitating. He knew this was going to be a difficult conversation, but despite reaching out to you....he suddenly didn't feel ready anymore.

He started to regret ever sending that message in the first place.

You had to be the one to push him.

"So what did you wanna talk about? And don't tell me you were an Alternate this entire time.." You lightly joked, although when you noticed him staring vacantly at the TV, hands trembling as he turned the volume down, you realized your mistake. "..I'm sorry, Thatch. I shouldn't be kidding around on a day like-"

"It's okay."

"N-No, it's..it's fine. I'm not one of those things, I promise." He shook his head, trying to bite back the tears burning in his eyes as he turned to you. His heart was already hammering in his chest, throat feeling dry as he tried to keep his voice steady.

"It's just...fuck...where do I begin? A-And how can I say this without sounding selfish or crazy-?"

Blinking, Thatcher realized you had taken his shaking hand into your own, your thumb gently brushing over the back of it. And once again, he felt those familiar butterflies in his stomach..

He's never really felt this sort of kind touch..ever.

"Just take your time. I'm not going anywhere." You reassured him, feeling him squeeze his hand around yours tightly.

"..you sure you won't..tell anyone?" He asked, wishing he didn't already sound so pathetic. "Even if it were to change how you see me?"

"Whatever it is, it'll stay between us. I promise."

With that final confirmation...he told you everything.

He explained what happened to Ruth on this very night and the endless guilt of "abandoning" her that's haunted him since. He confessed to running away from the site out of fear when she vanished, without ever checking to see if she was even alive, never saying anything except she was MIA.

He also spoke of this weight he's been carrying all this time, still trying to be the "brave" and "heroic" lieutenant that everybody expects him to be and how he couldn't show any weakness, lest he let them all down...you included.

For years he was shamed for being a coward, when nobody knew that he and the entire department were just as terrified and helpless against those monsters as anyone. He mentioned not being able to sleep anymore...as the one who killed Ruth still remembers and taunted him every night over his failure.

It never made him forget, and some days he wished it was him who died instead.

Just so he didn't have to keep living with this burden.

He managed to speak calmly for the most part, uninterrupted by you. But he eventually broke down into tears when he tried explaining why he attempted to act cold towards you all those months ago.

Somewhere along the line, he spilled his true feelings of how he loved you and wanted to protect you but was far too scared of repeating his past mistakes, fearing that you'll end up just like-

However, you brought him into your arms before he could finish that statement, uttering something simple yet comforting that he needed to hear after all this time:

"It wasn't your fault."

And he immediately crumbled in your embrace, defeated as he quietly sobbed into your shoulder. He was unable to stop himself from clinging to you like some helpless child, but he didn't care anymore.

This felt a hundred times more cathartic than ranting on a cassette tape and writing letters to a dead person.

For some time, you held him without any judgement, rubbing his back as his emotions kept spilling forth. You wish you could kill the bastard that ruined his entire life...though this was all you could offer in the present.

And it was more than enough.

But as you comforted him, it finally sank in that this guy confessed to you, and you couldn't help but press a gentle kiss to his head, affirming that you reciprocated his feelings.

It seems he opened up to you in more ways than one.

"I love you too, Thatch." You muttered after he fell silent, to which he lifted his head up and looked at you with surprise.

"R-Really? You mean that?" He wiped at his watery eyes, slowly pulling out of the hug.

"Of course, why would I lie?"

"Well..uh...y-you just saw your "superior" have a freak out." Sniffling lightly, he looked down at his lap, the embarrassment catching up to him. "This is who I really am, [y/n]...just a loser crying like a baby over shit that happened nearly 20 years ago-"

"Hey. You're not a loser." You frowned a bit, taking both of his hands into yours. "Whether it's 20 years or 20 minutes..grief still hurts like a bitch, especially if you never confided in anybody until now. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

Thatcher nodded, his head feeling considerably clearer for the first time in ages. He was just relieved you didn't shun him. "Thanks for that...I've just..i-it's been hell, and...."

However, he trailed off as you leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek, both of you becoming equally flustered at what you just did on impulse.

It felt like you were both back in highschool, being two lovesick idiot teenagers who just shared their first kiss--except one was a lieutenant and the other a rookie cop.

He stared at you for some time, before smiling a bit. "How long have you been wanting to do that?"

"....a while." You admitted. "But..are you sure this is alright? Considering we work together, it might be...um-"

"What they don't know won't hurt 'em. So...now that everything's out there, you wanna go on an official "date" to that diner later?"

"I thought you'd never ask! But only if you're okay enough to. I don't want you to feel like I'm dragging you out of-"

"You're not. I need to get my ass up anyways."

---Two Weeks Later--

"Is it true that you're going out with the lieutenant??"

"Wha...who said that??" Stopping at one of the call operators' desks, you noticed her smug grin and stared back at her suspiciously. "Who else knows?"

"Uh, literally everybody here has known since last week. I haven't seen that guy smile in years until you came along. So whatever you did to drag him out of his shell...good job." She chuckled. "You must feel pretty lucky."

"Ah.." Flustered that you got so defensive so quickly over a known fact--that you and Thatcher were officially a couple--you just shook your head, flashing a tiny smile at her. "Thanks, but honestly he keeps telling me that he's the lucky one."

"That's fair. Before your break, can you run this file by him? It's for the case he's on."

"Sure." You took the folder and headed off to find your boyfriend at his desk, filing a report.

Only when you approached did he look away from the screen, a smile on his face. "Hey, you."

"Hey, you." You quickly pecked him on the lips, setting the folder down onto the table. He grumbled something about "PDA" and "staying professional", but you just rolled your eyes at his complaints. You can tell he wished the kiss was longer.

"I'm still your superior, y'know."

"Understood, "boss"..so what's the incident this time?" Curious, you peered over at his computer screen.

"A recent sighting of a supposed "child Alternate" that murdered the real kid's dad in the middle of the night," he explained, sipping his coffee. "It spared the actual person it mimicked, though..which is kinda weird, but I don't feel sorry for the bastard considering his criminal record. He lied in court just to get custody of a kid he didn't even give a shit about."

"Huh, interesting.." You hummed. "Maybe some Alternates can feel a sense of injustice around them? Or empathy?"

"I doubt it. They just mimic what they see and hear." He shrugged. "Once I finish this up I'll join you on break, okay?"

"Okaaay." You sighed dramatically, ruffling his hair up a little. "Don't work too hard, dear."

All you got was a small nod in return as Thatcher went back to typing, and you headed to the breakroom. But you could easily tell he was ready to keel over at the endearing nickname you've given him. That coffee mug couldn't hide the light blush that dusted his face no matter how hard he tried.

He's well aware of the risk he took by opening up to you, especially on the day where he felt he was at his lowest--something he never wanted anybody to see.

But he's glad he took that chance. Now that he knew you'd have his back, loving him and supporting him unconditionally, he was going to try his hardest to protect you.

And if that Alternate decided to come back?

He'll make sure it doesn't get to even breathe near you.

Not on his watch.

#clanask #anonymous #mandela catalogue x reader #tmc x reader #thatcher davis #thatcher davis x reader #female reader #hurt/comfort #tw suicide mention

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rosemary-morgan · 8 months

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Javier Escuella X F.Reader - It's never to late to repent (Part 5)

(Pictures found on pinterest/google. That one with Javier is mine. Collage made by me 🌺)

Many thanks to @fangirl-ramblings 🖤 she has been beta reading for me 🌹

Chapter five is online 🖤 thank you so, so much!! All of you, for your support. You don't know how much it means to me 🌺

Tag list: @fangirl-ramblings @rose-of-black-blood @livingdeadgirly @coaxium-captain-rex @12timetraveler @butterballchannie @charlesjaviersimp @ashethesimp @planetahmane @snoowply @sylum @noodle-tm @karmashatty @nadnad09 @lill2350 @slightlyexpiredyogurt8 @natnuszsstuff @boniscute @books-arebetterthan-boys @pedropascalluvr69 @blackrosegarden6 @sie-werden-nie-vergessen @inlovewithjavierescuella @red-dead-flowers @ezzythereal1 @livvnob

If anyone of you want to be tagged to not miss the newest chapter, please let me know 🙏 And sorry again, if there are errors with the Spanish words. Please tell me if so. Thanks 🖤

👉Read Part 1 /Read Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 6

Warning: Full of angst, mention of death! Trigger warning!! Child lost!

Javier Escuella X F.Reader - It's never to late to repent (Part 5)

Now your dark secret was revealed. Just like that, without you being able to prevent it. It wasn't right of John to do that! You would never forgive him for that. You couldn't even look Javier in the eye anymore, because it felt like you had betrayed him. But he was looking to you, looking for the truth, looking for anything to understand what was happening. You slowly lifted your gaze as Javier whispered your name and it broke your heart to look into his eyes. Javier was completely confused, he didn't even know what to say. Where was your daughter? Why hadn't you mentioned her once? What had prevented you from doing so?

"Javier… Please… let’s go inside. I'll… I'll explain everything…"

The young man swallowed hard, his Adam's apple trembling as his eyes filled with tears. Without another word, he went back into the house. As he passed you, he gently reached for your hand, searching the look in your eyes. Compassionately you squeezed his hand, gently stroking his skin with your thumb, until he stepped inside. You would follow him in a moment.

"John…"

Anger was now in your eyes as you looked up at John. Without warning, you gave him a resounding slap that immediately left a fiery red mark on John's cheek.

"Get lost, John! Now!"

John sighed inwardly. He admitted that he had gone too far, but he had said it once and he couldn't undo that. But he was so angry! How could you just forgive Javier like that? After everything that had happened? John had seen how much you had suffered, had heard how you had cried every night because of Javier! The fact that your little girl had to grow up without her father had torn you apart inside. And you forgive him just like that?! John could not and would not understand that! Without expecting another answer from him, you also went inside your house and left John standing alone in the rain.

Javier was already sitting on the couch and was completely lost in thought. He had his hands clasped together, his mouth pressed against them as countless thoughts buzzed through his head. The young man sensed that he was not in for any good news as far as his baby girl was concerned. Just thinking about it gave Javier a terrible stomach ache. But it wasn't just him, it was you too. It all came back. All the painful memories of that terrible night when you lost a piece of your soul, of your being.

"Javier…"

He looked you straight in the eye as you knelt before him. Gently, your fingers slid down his arms, then lifted your hand to his cheek, and his heartbreaking look nearly killed you.

"I…"

Where could you possibly begin? No matter what you would say now, you would never be able to find the right words for a tragedy like this. You were both completely soaked, but that didn't matter at the moment. Outside it didn't stop raining either, it only got worse.

Javier grabbed your face, pulled you close and leaned his forehead against yours.

"What about my daughter, Y/N? Where's our babygirl?"

You couldn't even put the words in your mouth, so how could you tell him everything? You tried, you really did, but instead of a word, you just sob, you just whimper, rather you finally burst into tears.

"No, no… Y/N…"

Javier didn't manage to suppress his tears, but he tried. He tried to keep a clear head.

"They… she… isn't anymore, Javier… she… oh dear god…"

After her words, everything was said for Javier.

"No… no…"

Carefully, you pulled Javier into your arms; he was in a trance like state as he snuggled against you. While you put your arms around him, you felt him trembling.

It's been so many years now, but not a day has gone by that you don't think back to that terrible night four years ago. When your little Rose became a bright shining star.

You lay in each other's arms, broken and yet trying to give each other the support you just needed. Javier's tears wet your neck, and you held him close. You could sympathize with his pain because you had been through it before and the loss of little Rose would never go away. That pain would stay with you forever and now it would stay with Javier. How could John have been so cold? He should never have told him, not in that way. Maybe John had the right to be angry with Javier, but not the right to reveal such an intimate family matter. Especially not when it was about the death of a child….

The rain slowly subsided. It became quiet outside, only sporadic drops fell from the sky and you both had no more tears to shed. Lying silently on the couch, your head resting on Javier's chest, you listened to the clock ticking softly as his arms were around you. Lost in thought, he looked up at the ceiling while many painful questions ran through his mind. What had happened? Why was his girl no longer with you? And how had she gone out? Had she been as beautiful as her mother? Could she have had his eyes? He imagined how she would have laughed, but that thought was far too painful and he shook it off immediately as fresh tears welled up from his eyes.

You heard Javier's heartbeat beat softly and steadily. His warmth enveloped you, which almost became uncomfortable because it was excruciatingly hot at the moment. All the tears you had shed had been with effort. The heat in your bodies had risen, your cheeks were still quite red.

"What happened, Y/N?"

Javier was the first to break the silence as he recovered his voice.

"Scarlet fever…"

Scarlet fever was responsible for the fact that their child was now no longer with them. You had done everything you could to bring the fever down. Even the doctor hadn't been able to do much more. Abigail and John had done everything they could, but even they had not been able to save Rose. They had been with you that night and they had suffered with you, suffered a lot.

"I did everything… we did everything possible, Javier…"

Your words were just a whisper now as you just stared at a spot in the corner and the images played in your mind's eye.

"I'm so sorry, Javier. so terribly sorry…"

Sobbing, you buried your face against his chest. Oh, how you wish Javier could see little Rose. Her smile, it had been just as beautiful as Javier's! She had laughed just the same. She was the spitting image of her father. More and more every day.

"Shh… you have nothing to be sorry for, my heart. Nothing. Nothing at all."

"She had your eyes Javier. Your smile…"

Javier closed his eyes as his heart contracted painfully.

"I… do you have a photograph of her, Y/N? I would love to see her…"

"Yes…"

Photos of little Rose actually existed. Immediately, you retrieved the photos from your sewing room. You stored them well, wrapped them in cloth and kept them in a small cardboard box so that time wouldn't destroy the pictures of little Rose. You took the box to Javier to show him his daughter. The first thing Javier said when he saw rose was, how beautiful she was. Her laugh in the photograph was infectious and he had to smile instantly.

"This dress, I had sewn it for her."

Your fingers gently ran over the photograph showing Rose sitting on your lap.

"Her name was Rose…"

"Y/N… I want to have a picture of Rose. So I can carry it with me."

"Of course, Javier…"

To your surprise, Javier pulled out a small medallion from his blue jacket. You recognized it immediately and your eyes widened. He was still carrying it? It had been a gift from you to him. A photograph of you was still in it. On the left side, a place for a picture of Rose.

"You still have the medallion?"

"Of course, Y/N… It was the only thing I had left of you…"

You snuggled into his arms, holding the photo of Rose tightly against your chest.

It had been a few weeks after the decline of the gang when you had noticed that something was wrong with your body. Again and again you had had this strange feeling in your stomach, you had often vomited and you had perceived smells more intensely, even detested them because they had disgusted you. When your periods stopped, you realized that you were pregnant. A visit to the doctor had brought clarity. For you it had been quite difficult, because Javier was no longer there and you didn't like the idea that your child would grow up without a father. But you were lucky that Abigail and John had supported you. Especially Abigail could give you many valuable tips. She also knew how difficult it was to raise a child practically alone.

But what was, has passed. Now was the time to look forward and you knew that it was a new beginning for you and Javier…

♦♦♦♦

It was like old times when Javier played for you on his guitar. His soft voice touched your heart, because every word that came over his lips came from the deepest soul. You no longer had to spend your evenings alone on the couch with books and chamomile tea. Now you could spend them with Javier again. Outside, in front of a cozy fire, under the stars. At a beautiful lake, surrounded by little fireflies flying around you. Your togetherness was incomparably beautiful and you had a lot of catching up to do.

Eres mi ángel especial

Enviada desde allá arriba

El señor me sonrió

Y me envió un ángel para amar

Eres mi ángel especial

Directo del paraíso

Se que eres un ángel

El cielo está en tus ojos

You are my special angel

Sent from up above

The Lord smiled down on me

And sent an angel to love

You are my special angel

Right from paradise

I know that you′re an angel

Heaven is in your eyes

(Bobby Helms - My Special Angel)

Javier has always had a way with words. His gaze showed love and warmth as he looked at you. He was playing just for you.

Satisfied, he smiled as he slowly finished his song. His guitar was still quite new. He had bought it with his first salary, because after the decline of the gang, neither Javier nor anyone else had been able to save anything in terms of material things. Survival had been the only thing.

Javier slid closer to you after placing his guitar on the floor next to him and you instantly snuggled against his chest, closing your eyes for a moment.

But this place was so beautiful that you could imagine spending the night here.

This moment seemed like a dream and you were afraid that this was not reality. But could a dream feel so real? To feel the warmth of another person? The kisses and tender touches were so intense, his scent omnipresent. No dream could ever be so real.

In the last days you had talked a lot about Rose and it had done really good to share your thoughts with Javier. He tried to process the pain, but it would take a very long time, but he was not alone and he knew it. He wrote down song lyrics for his little Rose and also for you. Sometimes he would spend almost whole nights on it, you even had to get him out of his work so he could get his sleep. Javier often forgot the time.

Oh, how much you had experienced together. So many ups and downs, but all to finally find peace. It's still a shame what happened to your gang. All the friends you saw die, all the blood that was spilled. But in the end, a few of you managed to build a decent life. You and Javier were about to let your future blossom. What became of Dutch and Micah, no one knows.

You could only hope that they got the end they deserved…

Chapter 6 is coming soon...

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