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arcadejohn127-9 · 3 years

Note

I read the Diavolos ball and angsty stuff, can I please please please get a happy ending to go with it?

This has been a highly requested and I must give my poor followers comfort after this straight up angst

So everyone, let's get into it! Some hurt and comfort to soothe your hearts

Warning: angst, long

I'll be putting this under readmore as it is long and I have had someone before say they wanted me to add it on long posts, I never really got any feedback about what I could do better and how this will help with people's viewing but I understand why, long posts can be annoying

If you guys think I should do this with all my long posts please comment or dm me or even state it in asks/requests - I wanna do what I can to make things enjoyable for people

Part 1 - beginning

Diavolo's ball aftermath

It's been a few days since they've seen you; they expected to find you in the dorm. Some fear you went back to the human world; there was no messages, no note - there was nothing. You were completely gone.

Everyone was losing it. The brothers got more aggressively with each other, no longer able to have you come between them. Your presence was so soothing to all of them but now you were gone. As soon as they realized you were gone the whole air of the dorm shifted. It wasn't right.

Mammon got desperate to know where you were. He handed one of his crows a necklace he got you, you promised to never take it off. His heart shattered when he saw it was on your desk. He wasn't sure what he did wrong - why did you take it off? What happened to you?

It wasn't long before the crow came back to the devildom; reporting that you were in fact in the human world. The brothers were devastated. They had to tell the others and they had to watch the hopeful shine in their eyes die.

They could all feel thankful you were unharmed but you were so far. You did this to get away from them. You didn't even leave a damn note!

Diavolo ordered everyone to go to the human world. They all split up into different parties to get you, whoever could get you first had to interrogate you. It didn't take a genius to understand that the Noble told you something horrible - why else would you have such a reaction? Barbatos was tasked to 'calmly discuss' that night with said noble but regardless of how rough and merciless he was; he refused to talk.

It was wasting time and energy. If he wasn't going to talk then they had to get the answer from you. A few were able to gather the gist of what he told you from your conversation before you disappeared; you were convinced you were being used and just a replacement, a pawn to them.

They wanted the full story. The whole reason. Anything! Just to understand why you would push them away and disappear like this. What have they done to make the nobles words feel so real to you? They needed to fix it.

The demon brother's split into a team of two; eldest and youngest, the royals stayed together and the elder exchange students were a double team aswell.

The crows lead the teams their way, splitting up to different routes to see if they could circle you so they could talk to you even if you decided to run.

In the end they found you, you were across the pavement, a train coming. The pedestrian stop dinged as it commanded people to stop but the men couldn't help themselves.

"(Y/N)!!!"

You whipped around, shocked. You thought your ears were playing tricks on you but there was the boys. Your boys. Tears bubbled in your eyes. You couldn't believe it. They followed you to the human world.

The world slowed down; the wind blowing against you as your eyes widened at the sight of them. They looked exhausted, some even with tear streaked cheeks. The more impulsive bunch being held back so they don't go running towards you. The street lights illuminated all of you; their appearance looked just as broken as their hearts.

The train rammed itself between you all. Disturbing the moment with its blaring horn, the screeching wheels ringing in your ears. It was the second you had to decide; do you run? Or do you stay?

To let them get you and finally face your emotions or run away, avoid everything and keep letting despair consume you.

You stayed. You couldn't move at all. It was if you were glued to the spot. But you knew it was just your heart aching for them; desperate to hold them and cry out your pain.

As soon as they could, they all rushed to your side. Hugging you, grabbing at your arms and head to pull you close to them. You choked on your tears as you let the 11 men hug you and check your face and clothes. All just wanting to make sure you were really there and unharmed.

You missed them all dearly and you were so happy they missed you too.

But then the big question was asked.

"what happened that night?"

"he said he was happy to meet me...asked for a dance and I said yes, I never should of, he kept telling me I was just Diavolo's pawn, Lilith's replacement and convinced me none of actually cared for me....I believed him.....I felt so unsure and he knew so much about us I just couldn't stop the doubts in my head....I'm so sorry-!"

Lucifer:

He couldn't believe that noble said that to you

He hastily grabbed your face, wiping away your tears

"You will never be and never have been her replacement, you are your own person, your connection to our sister means nothing other than comfort that she was able to be happy and that's it - I apologize if we have made you feel like you are a replacement and have compared you to her.... please understand we just miss her very dearly but we all want you in our life more than anything."

You buried your face into his shoulder

Sobbing your heart out as you kept chanting apologies and gratitude in a broken voice

He silenced you, holding you close

The prideful demon hid his face as best as he could and let tears drip down his cheeks

He was so relived to have you back

It seemed that noble wasn't only going to be visited by barbatos

Lucifer was not known for being merciful

Mammon:

He grabbed your arm and hastily tugged you towards him

His other hand cradled the back of your head

"Don't ever run away again, you understand?! I'm supposed to be the one protecting ya and how am I supposed to do that if you're off running in different realms without telling anyone??!! That noble doesn't know anything! I don't know how he knew about Lilith but you ain't her, you're (Y/N) And that's it! You are your own person - you gotta call out my dumbass-ary if I compare or make you feel that way, I would never do it on purpose! I like you and only you! I can't lose you again!"

He pushed his forhead against yours

A shaky exhale leaving him

You tried to apologize but he cut you right off, hugging you closer

He was going to make that Noble pay for ever making you doubt yourself like this

To doubt how much he loves you

Levithan:

He was already crying

He was crying before you even considered crying

He rushed to you and grabbed your hands

"I got so scared I did something, Don't listen to that normie! Normies are losers for a reason! There's no one else I would want as my best friend - no one will ever be a better game partner than you! You always make me feel happy and proud to be me-! I couldn't ask for anything more from you! I miss Lilith but I miss you even more! You're my favourite person, you're not some replacement, you're you! You're my player 2-! I'm sorry if I made you feel like you're not as amazing as you are, please don't leave again!"

It wasn't long after his speech he hugged you

Squeezing you tightly as he relished in having you back in real life 3D

since you were gone he kept playing as your game avatars

Using ai set ups to feel like he was with you again in VR

That noble will not stand a chance against his fury

Satan:

He wasn't sure if he was mad at you or himself

It was most likely both - mad you left and let someone just destory so much work and progression in one meeting

But mad at himself for not making you feel secure

He couldn't bring himself to hug you but that was because he was scared he wouldn't let go

"I knew that Noble was nothing but a menace-! You can't listen to people like him, he's just trying to get to you and tear us apart - I don't know why he would do that but he isn't right, he will never EVER be right! You are yourself and never will be Lilith, I didn't get to me her or really know who she was but I do know you will never be her and never were her! I care so much about you and I will make sure to keep my stupid brothers to never make you feel that way again, I've missed you so much (Y/N)."

In the end, he fell into your arms

Holding you tight as he let out his tears of frustration go

You apologized but he just told you to shut up, he didn't want you to be sorry for being the victim

He already had plans on what he's going to do to that noble, trying to push those thoughts away

Focusing on how wonderful it is to have you close

Asmodeus:

As soon as he could reach you, he pulled you into an embrace

Shaking his head as tears streamed down

His makeup already starting to to drip along work his tears

"No! No! No! Noooo!! Don't listen to that horrible noble! He isn't right at all, he doesn't know anything about us or you! He obviously doesn't know how much we care about you and like you as your own person, I never meant to make you feel as if you were some sort of replacement! Lilith was her own being and so are you, your connection means nothing! I i will always be happy knowing my sister got to live the life she wanted but you aren't apart of that, your life is your own and you are nothing like her! I love you because you're you! I couldn't imagine ever loving someone as much as I love you, please come back to the devildom!"

He nuzzled his cheek against yours

Thankful to have you back in his arms again

He didn't like getting his hands messy but no one was going to make you feel that way ever again

He didn't care about that demons status

Beezlebub:

His hand landed on the top of your head

You flinched not expecting such a gentle pat but it only broke his heart more

"That noble knows nothing about you or any of us, he's turned my sister into an enemy to our relationship and I will not let that go on for any longer! You are not her and not her replacement, how dare he make you feel that way! you're apart of my family and I'll have it no other way, I really love you and missed you everyday you were gone - I was scared I'd never feel full again, you make me feel complete and when you disappeared I knew I wouldn't be able to protect you, I would of never forgiven myself if you got hurt! I want to always be able to protect you and have you by my side and make you feel happy - I promise I won't fail you again."

He almost fell to his knees once he was done

He was ready to swear to you on one knee, like a true knight

But instead hugged you

Mindful not to squeeze too hard but let himself be selfish and hold you tighter than he would normally dare to

He was one prone to be violent unless it was in sports or he was starved - the Noble starved him of your touch and kindness

He'll break more than just rooms once he gets his hands on that Noble

Belphegor:

He spun you to face him

Demanding

Needing your attention on him

It was only a few days but it felt like forever since he's had your eyes on him

"You're no pawn and no replacement, you are you and that's all I want, I don't want any one else, I know I've made you feel like a replacement - i did something horrible to you and then tried to make it seem like it was all okay after, I'm always trying to make up for that day but I know that is something that will always effect us! I missed you so much....you are your own person and you've helped me be a better person, come back home and let me make this right......you're all I want and need."

He broke down crying

Hanging his head low and it dropped onto your shoulder

He loosely held your waist whilst you gripped onto him tight

If everyone thought choking you was bad, just wait until they see what he plans to do with that noble

He couldn't stand seeing you so upset anymore

UNDATEABLES↓

Diavolo:

He gently held your arm

Giving it a small squeeze as tears built up

"He said all that? I'm sorry he made you feel like that, to feel such confliction and dread, You are never will be or were my pawn, you're a fantastic student and wonderful person who's did more than I've ever imagined Someone could do, if I could have asked you myself properly to be apart of the exchange program I would of but the world is not yet ready to merge and be aware of our existence.... please you have my deepest apologies and regrets that you felt this way and I've allowed such a person in my court, I will do whatever I can to make this right."

The tears finally fell and he became selfish

Hugging you tight against him, his fingers brushing against any skin he could touch

He couldn't dare to think how he'll be when you finally do leave the program

But until that time comes he needed to make it a good experience for you

If what barbatos did to him wasn't enough to convince him then he will not go back on his word

He'll fix this and do whatever he can to make all the pain stop

Barbatos:

He sighed in relief seeing you in the flesh

Knees buckling as he stood before you

His knuckles bloodied and bruised under his gloves

"I should of been more comforting when I found you, if I had known that was what he said I would of never let him be apart of the lord's court or be at that party, believe me when I say you are not a pawn or someone's replacement - you are so much more than that, you are you and someone that's made me feel closer to the present, to act quicker and stop using endless time as a excuse, I will fix this and make him regret ever uttering a word to you, I promise you."

Your touch was as gentle as ever

He caved, leaning against you

Happy to be able to make amends and fix the situation

The nobles dealt with him once and no matter what he did it wasn't enough

But he was merely holding back to be a gentleman, even if that noble now looks like a beaten raisin

It seemed he will have to do much worse to send everyone's message across

Solomon:

His face was gentle yet scolding

He gently brushed your cheek, wiping away a stray tear

"don't run off next time something like this happens, your life is so short and I hate to think would could happen if I lost you because you felt isolated even from me, you though you could find solace as both of us are humans but I was slow to understand your needs - you are deeply loved by everyone, I envy how much love you get and that's why I can't stand to see you run! I also love you and your presence, you have been so kind to me and I still have so much to teach you- please believe me when I say you're no one's pawn or replacement, you're important because you're you."

You crumbled completely

He hugged you as you apologized, calling yourself an idioit

But it only made him tsk, rubbing your back as he filled your ears with praises

He was sure the demons were going to rip that Noble to shreds but he couldn't help but desire his own revenge

Seeing you like this hurt him so much

Simeon:

He was so quick and gentle you could of mistaken him as a feather

He embraced you, cradling your head and rubbed soothing circles between your shoulder blades

"I was worried about you, I took you home and then I learn you've completely disappeared! No warning or note behind, you ran away - your feelings are extremely valid and I understand why you did this, It must of been so conflicting and you needed space to think and reflect, you're so strong (Y/N)! but you are also smarter than this, I feel ashamed knowing I haven't showed you how much I appreciate you being in my life and make sure you feel secure in the Devildom, I want to look over you but I've failed you already, that Noble does not know what he's talking about regardless of the information he has! I would never let anyone use you or let anyone treat you as some replacement, we all care so much about you."

He slightly swayed with you in his arms

Overwhelmed by his fears and the emotions that were rushing through him

He promised to never harm an innocent soul

That noble did not have one

He will leave the more physically destructive rage to the others

Wanting to merely talk and show the noble the error of his ways

Bonus:

You were back in the Devildom, Everyone was making sure to spend extra time with you. So happy to have you back and wanting to work on making you feel more secure. You couldn't stop how fast your heart was beating from all the overwhelming joy you felt.

It felt so good to be back. But you nagging worry remained in your head; what was going to happen to the Noble? you wished you could go up to him and yell at him. Prove him wrong and make him regret ever making you spiral like that.

When you brought up the idea, the men all looked at each other. A knowing look in their eye.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N) but I think it's best you don't see him but rest assured, we've dealt with him on your behalf and understand your wishes - let us know how we can help you feel resolved from that situation if this is unsatisfactory."

Diavolo answered. If it weren't the state the noble was in they'd happily let you chew him out but your heart and mind have been through enough already. No need to add on to the hurt with seeing what was left of him. They couldn't stand to see you upset again.

But you agreed, thanking them for their support and handling the situation. Unaware of their true actions. They all wished you a great day before going back to their own private meeting.

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n0tamused · 3 years

Note

Hello! Hope you're doing well! So I saw that your requests were open so, may I request something about Kakashi's gf being pregnant but being afraid of telling him? (because he lost so many loved ones, she doesn't want to pressure him into being a father idk if that makes sense) Like she's pregnant but it's not visible yet but she as some symptoms already? Kakashi didn't really noticed until someone mentioned it?

It can be a one shot or a drabble, i'm leaving that to you. But I would like it to be fluff if you don't mind 👉🏼👈🏼

It's really specific i guess and I hope ypu don't mind! If it's bothering you in any way feel free to skip it 😊

Have a nice day/night and take care!

Warnings: pregnancy, throwing up, a hint of angst

Words: 2.406

Kakashi Hatake x Reader

The cashier held the packed groceries for Y/N to take. A polite smile ever-present on her face. "Have a wonderful day!"

She managed to smile back and take the bag into her arms. It wasn't the need for groceries that got Y/n to the store, but another item that got her mind running a few nights ago.

The realization hit her then. She didn't even have to take the test to know it was true. A gut wrenching feeling broke throughout her as she was just passing through an alley, a shortcut to Kakashi and her's shared home. Frozen in place, eyes glued to the floor, she felt the familiar sting of tears in her eyes. Vision getting cloudy and blurry.

She knew Kakashi wouldn't react in a way that would harm her, not in any way, shape or form. But it was hard to deny the fact that it was anxiety inducing, this wasn't something to be taken lightly. Neither of them were planning on kids any time soon. Not to mention the sad history of the Copy-Nin. Even in the beginning of their relationship it took time for him to finally warm up, to really be comfortable with the new intimacy. With receiving such love and care, to finally be safe to be vulnerable. To feel protected and loved and to form an attachment.

The walk home from there felt slow and the wait for the test to show the results was even worse. Nausea raked and coiled in her gut as she sat beside the toilet, having thrown up some time ago. How much time has even passed?

The woman looked forlornly up at the sink where the stick laid. The tiles were cold under her, yet she found herself glued to them, letting the coldness of them seep into her flesh and bones. But eventually she had to get up.

Fear now started to rampage in her system, mind spiraling as her nimble fingers took hold of the test. An unfamiliar haze was brought over her eyes, it made it hard to see but she soon realized that she was staring at two prominent red lines on the small window of the test. Shock. The fear suddenly gone and was replaced with a hollow feeling deep within her which felt even worse. Tears began to sting her eyes again and they came pouring out like a waterfall, in large beads and onto the sink. Cold hands gripped the edge of it for some stability as the woman hunched over it, the test abandoned as the other hand came to knuckle and wipe away the ongoing stream of tears. Silently she let herself cry it out, she couldn't bottle it up any longer. Kakashi wouldn't be home until the sun was already set, and now the sun was still high in the sky.

The woman couldn't look herself in the mirror after that. Hiding the test in her room she decided that it was best to tell her beloved the sooner the better. Hiding it from him would only prolong her fear and anxiety, and she didn't want to imagine the reaction he would have after hearing the news and how much she just waited to tell him. Not to mention it would be quite a task to hide something like this from someone like Kakashi. The evening was spent with a poor attempt to make some food, something to fill the gaping hole in her gut, something to make her feel warmth again. Filled with the vast expanse of helplessness she barely made anything in the end.

When Kakashi arrived home he was met with coldness. Something he became familiar with when Y/n wasn't in the best of moods. He padded through the hall quietly, listening for any sounds that may come, but all he heard was the sound of shuffling. Pushing the door open it unexpectedly creaked, a long cry of the old worn door caused the woman on the bed to startle. Body twisting around like an eel to meet his confused stare.

"Hey, it's just me, love.. What's the matter..?"

He felt worried immediately, he was used to sadness and gloomy moods but he wasn't used to her being so frightened. Not around him. Not on the battlefield and definitely not in the comforts of their shared house.

"Oh I didn't hear you, that's all.."

Came her reply, yet she found yourself moving into him, arms embracing around his middle in a desperate need of comfort. Kakashi didn't hesitate to return the hug, nuzzling his cheek into the side of her head for a moment. Mind running laps in an attempt to figure out what got his belovee like this, but it all came back blank.

"Kakashi I have to talk to you."

The sentence made him stiff, but he nodded and let her lead him to sit on the bed, one arm loosely wrapped around her tense shoulders.

All words that came to her died immediately on her tongue, and swallowing hard her gaze fell to the ground. Eyes threatening to spill tears again but she pushed them back.

"I…"

Y/n tried, but it all felt like bile in her mouth. Not having rest properly,the stress of missions and now this too. It was all catching up to her now. From her peripheral vision she could see the brows of the silver headed ninja furrow in confusion and worry.

"Did something happen? You're looking sickly, are you feeling ill?"

"No."

Her response came a bit too quickly, head shaking before she took a deep breath, exhaling before she looked at him. His eyes searched hers as if he could find the answer that way. Y/n felt horrible. He had gone through enough and all the attempts of telling him about it came to a halt. She couldn't do this to him, not now, he had to rest. She could tell him some time during the week, she told yourself.

"I just… it was a long day, I barely got any rest last night too. I missed you Kakashi.."

His expression suddenly lightened but it did not lose its worry and confusion. She had slept alone the last few nights before work prevented him from coming home at all, so he understood. Yet he couldn't help but feel something was amiss. A small voice at the back of his head whispering something incoherent.

"I missed you too."

He replied and pulled her into another embrace. Sighing out his worry he focused solely on caressing her, hoping that would ease the stress and worries of that day. And it seemed to work. For the rest of the night they both rested in each other's arms, leading a small talk about random things, it eased both of them and even made them forget about worries and fears. In the morning, when Kakashi was getting dressed and Y/n, watching him with sleep heavy eyelids, he came to crouch before her and kiss her on the forehead. Telling her something about how he'll leave Pakkun with her that day. Smiling when he saw you blink at him, trying to grasp at his words. In the end she only nodded and attempted to wipe away the sleep from her eyes as he left.

And as promised, Pakkun remained at her side. He would occasionally chip in to say something, and even the nin asked if she were alright, saying how something felt off now. Y/N only nodded, everything was fine.

Y/N missed going on missions but ever since she started feeling so ill, she was given several days off, not that she had any choice but to accept as even Kakashi was fussing that she couldn't fight in such a condition.

In the middle of the day the nausea returned. Y/N have just eaten freshly prepared lunch and it all came back up soon after. Toppled over the toilet seat she took in a mouthful of air when she finally felt her gut settle down. Pakkun sat at the door to the bathroom, worried look plastered on his canine face.

"Hey, you should really go and visit a medic. This has been going on for a while, it can't be any good."

She heard him say through buzzing ears, a static feeling coursing through her as an after effects of having thrown up. Pushing herself away she stood on shaky legs, feeling a tad bit better but awfully tired. Only a nod came in response to his words before she padded into the living room to sit down only to end up passing away on the couch. Head feeling heavier and heavier until she felt the plush material of the couch press against the side of her face. Hands curled around a pillow she placed over her stomach, some semblance of comfort and warmth coming from it.

Meanwhile Pakkun slowly waltzed into the bedroom, hoping to find a blanket he could drag back to Y/N. Taking the corner of the folded blanket in his maw he moved back, paws pushing into the slippery surface of the polished wood. Groaning he forcefully pulled, the blanket now flying out from under the rest of the folded sheets, making Pakkun fly back and hit the work desk. If it weren't for the clank of something falling from the top drawer, the ninken would've ignored it. But the item that fell at his paws even made him stop in his tracks. His ears pinned back in surprise. It fit like a puzzle piece, the girl's weird illness finally made sense. He figured Kakashi didn't know, otherwise he would've said something along the lines of that his partner was pregnant.

Nonetheless, Pakkun figured out why that was the case too, he knew Y/N well enough, but seeing how things were going he decided to tell Kakashi on his own. To spare her some of the stress of it all. Before he took his leave he did manage to drape the soft blanket over the woman's figure, having had to jump on the couch and do quite some pulling to get it over her all while staying silent.

Pakkun found Kakashi just when he was heading home, in one of the paths between two houses that he called a shortcut. Abruptly halting the ninken panted, his gaze narrowing at Kakashi's figure.

"Hey boss. I have something to tell you."

Pakkun started, perched up on one of the roof ledges where he stared down at Kakashi who didn't quite expect him to see him there. Exposed eye widened at the sight of him, the worst coming to his mind.

"What are you- is Y/N alright?"

The silver head blurted out before he could think of anything else, hands falling out of his pockets. Kakashi already felt a small tightness in his chest, anxiety creeping up on him.

"Y/N is just fine, but why I'm here does concern her."

Pakkun responded as he made his way down from the roof, hopping from ledge to window and window and to the ground. Now standing in front of Kakashi he huffed and looked up at him.

"You really should look into bigger homes, you're gonna get a small addition soon."

At that Kakashi looked at him, guffawed. Silence followed soon after Pakkun spoke, Kakashi at loss of words as he still tried to make out the riddle the sentence represented. "What..are you saying?"

Kakashi looked at Pakkun quizzically, even as the puzzle pieces slowly fell in his head as well, he was still slow to fully process the information.

"Y/n is with a child, Kakashi."

---------

When you woke the next time the sun had already been setting, only the small arch of the sun was visible on the horizon. The sky painted in warm and vibrant colors of orange and red. Your head swam with the unconscious, still not grasping the sensation of being awake yet. Eyes blinking lazily at the bedroom window. Wait…

Finally breathing in you felt the blanket tucked around you. Yet Kakashi was not there with you. A small sense of panic grasped you as you sat up, looking around. Sleep hazed mind sent you into a frantic state and almost instantly you found yourself searching for the pregnancy stick where you hid it. It wasn't there. It was not there. Pushing books and papers aside you still couldn't find it. It was not there.

"Y/n."

Kakashi's voice rang out and you turned around. He wasn't wearing his uniform, nor his mask. A simple gray shirt clung to his figure along with some black sweatpants. He held the door open with his hand, a small hint of worry was present on his face. His lips pressed together in a thin line before he approached you and pulled you into himself. You now knew that he knew. A shaky breath escaped you as you still waited for him to speak up first but that never came. He just held you there, caressing up and down your back.

"Kakashi… "

You started but your voice soon trailed off.

"I know. Pakkun told me today." He stated simply, nose brushing against your hair and inhaling your scent.

"Oh… I was planning on telling you myself.. I just didn't...I didn't know how to tell you last night.. I'm sorry."

You felt him nod against you, humming in response. And to your surprise, you felt him smile.

"It's alright. I'm not angry… It is a bit surprising but I could never be angry at you, not for this.. Please do not feel afraid anymore, it's alright."

Kakashi reassured, pulling away just enough to move his hands to cup the sides of your face. Looking into your eyes he saw the anxiety you held melt away, his own anxiety disappearing as well. He felt nothing but pure love for you. He wouldn't like anyone else to start a family with but you.

His thumb brushed over your cheekbone and then he leaned in and pressed his lips to your temple, holding you like that for a moment before he pulled away. A smile pulled at the corners of his lips, a smile you soon mirrored when you saw it. Leaning down slowly he pulled you into a kiss, you meeting him half way and smiling into the kiss.

#kakashi #kakashi hatake #kakashi hatake x you #kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi x y/n #naruto x reader #kakashi imagine #kakashi oneshot #n0tamused oneshot #n0tamused writes

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idv-hc-center · 3 years

Note

Hi! Aesop x Gn!Reader please. Make it super angsty. Like, reader finds out that Aesop is a serial killer on the night that he plans on proposing to S/O. I want to watch the world burn. 😈 please and thank you. Hope your doing well!

Time to make someone cry

lol wrote it in one sitting

guys, I swear I'm okay

warnings: mention of death and murder, like a lot

words: 1,3k

You and Aesop were in a relationship for a long time. You both were stuck in the endless death game but, somehow, you bonded and couldn't live without each other now. All you wanted was to get out of here and lead a happy life. And Aesop wanted to "formalize" it.

He planned to propose to you. He was sure that's what he wanted, and he was sure you would agree. Aesop worried it might be too soon, but after all, you both didn't know if you will ever get out of here.

You taught him how to love, how to show affection and made him a better human being. You completely changed him, and he was forever grateful for that. He was ashamed of his past, but he knew one day, he will explain it to you. But not now, you had much bigger problems.

You didn't know what he was planning, it was a surprise. All you knew was the fact you were supposed to go on a date somewhere. Aesop had everything planned out. With Emma's help, he arranged a dinner in one of the manor's gardens.

Everything was supposed to go perfectly! But it started to go wrong when you appeared in Aesop's room half an hour before you were supposed to. He didn't blame you, you didn't know how important that day was for him. For both of you. So he politely asked you to wait in his room till he comes back for you.

You agreed, not wanting to annoy him. You could wait. But after some time you began to feel bored. So in your fashion, you began to look around his room, trying to find something to entertain you. You ended up going through his bookshelf. Most of the books on there were about embalming and burial of the dead. There was also a copy of hamlet, but you really didn't feel like reading through any of it.

You found yourself interested in one of the books. It didn't have anything on the back or front, so you opened it on one of the pages. You quickly noticed it was handwritten as you began to read.

I found myself thinking about Jerry way more often recently. It might be because of the matches. Who would have thought I would have the honor of embalming living instead of dead. I wonder if he would be as fascinated as I am. Soon it's going to be an anniversary of his death. It also might be the reason why he is on my mind constantly. I know I failed him. He wouldn't think of me as a proper apprentice. Especially not now. But I hope I have chosen the correct path.

You were confused. Now you knew it was probably his diary, everyone in the manor was required to write in one. Aesop never said anything about his past, and you accepted it. You assumed it was rough, and you didn't want to make him upset by asking. But who was Jerry? What he meant by failing him? You knew it was presumably wrong and an invasion of his privacy, but you wanted to know more about him. You were so close you assumed he wouldn't be angry if he found out. You flipped through some pages and again began to read.

The whole process of embalming living is way different than embalming the dead. Obviously. It enrages me I have so little time to do it. Not only I can't do it properly, but the pressure of running away from the hunter makes it way more challenging. But the adrenaline feels very familiar. Well, of course, it's way different than the adrenaline I felt while helping those poor souls. It was more peaceful then. Not to mention the lack of that awful smell.

You were utterly confused. You didn't understand anything, but your anxiety rose. It didn't seem right. Aesop was always kind of different, but everything you read just seemed weird. What he meant by "helping those poor souls"? Your curiosity took the best of you as you flipped pages to those at the begging of the diary.

I met someone new. Well, I met a lot of new people in the past couple of days. It's overwhelming. But they seem nice. I think they are worthy of me helping them, to get out of this place, and out of this world. Looking at the situation, it would be the best for them.

You held your breath. No, it couldn't be true. He wouldn't write about something so disturbing in such a nonchalance way. You hoped you read something wrong as you reread that one fragment over and over again. The pieces started to come together as you began to realize the awful truth your lover was hiding from you. You didn't want to believe that as you desperately started to read more and more, what only reassured you in your awful discovery.

Is it really murder if I'm just trying to help?

You jumped at the noise of Aesop opening the door what resulted in you dropping the diary. He didn't suspect anything.

"Dear, everything is ready, we can now..." he froze, noticing tears streaming down your face. He was confused and immediately went over, trying to find out what happened.

"Don't touch me." you moved away from him to his unsettling. He didn't understand why you were acting like that. Well, till he noticed what you just dropped.

His eyes widened. He didn't know how much you knew but looking at your reaction, you knew way too much.

"Darling, I bet I can explain-" he put one hand on your arm, trying to calm you down.

"I said, don't touch me!" you screamed at him pushing his hand off you. You were greatly disturbed by your discovery, and you wouldn't calm down so easily.

"Okay..." he moved away. Aesop had to convince you that you were wrong about him. Well, of course not entirely. He had committed sins that he couldn't fix now. But you changed him. You made him rethink everything Jerry taught him. And he knew how wrong he was. He would never do something like that again, and you had to believe him. You both went through so much. You had to understand him.

"Don't ever talk to me again" he could swear he heard his heart shatter. No, he couldn't let you do that. He immediately grabbed your arms and began explaining how you were wrong and misunderstood everything. How he changed, and you were to the sole reason for his change. But he stopped when he noticed how frightened you were. He could see pure fear in your eyes. Your cheeks were stained with tears. He sounded like a lunatic. Embalmer backed off, letting you go, and you immediately ran out of his room, still crying. He slowly sat back on his bed.

He pulled out of his pocket the ring he wanted to use to propose to you. Aesop looked at it with a broken smile. He ruined it, and it was only his fault. He couldn't be mad at anyone but himself. He was a sinner and his sins caught up to him. He wished he could explain it to you, but he knew you wouldn't want to listen to him. And you had a full right not to. After everything you just learned, you would be stupid if you decided to even sit in the same room as him.

Aesop felt like a foul. He believed he finally found someone he truly loved. Someone who cared about him and someone who he cared about. It was obvious after everything he did it wouldn't be possible. He looked at the ring one last time.

"Maybe in another life."

#identity v #idv #identity v x reader #idv x reader #aesop carl #idv aesop #aesop carl x reader #aesop x reader #embalmer idv

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wh6res · 3 years

Text

taeyong — part of the my bloody valentine collection.

prompt. when your soulmate gets a wound or cut, flowers bloom on the same spot in your body.

synopsis. you’re desperate to meet your soulmate. maybe you can put a stop to the flowers stubbornly blooming on your wrists.

warnings. tread cautiously. mentions of mental illness (depression, attempted suicide), swearing, manipulation, implied self-harm, dubious content, forced relationship, unconsensual touching near the end, ty pulling the sadboi agenda

disclaimer. a friendly reminder that i do not, under any circumstance, condone or support any acts like this. this is not love and this is not how a normal relationship should be like. the things i write are all fiction and should be treated as such and if you don’t like it, please do not read it and waste your time hating on it. the 9 members of nct 127 do not act like this in real life and shouldn’t act like this in real life.

by the time you’re graduating high school, you’re used to the sorry glances people sent your way.

for someone so young, you have more flowers blooming on your skin than any adult. a few small pieces of it blooming in the corner of your cheek, near the jawline. a few of them on your thighs.

but the most concerning piece is the one on your wrists that are fully covered by the flowers, your skin nowhere to be seen with all the lilies of the valley tainting your skin.

yet the worse has got to be the summer before senior year. you had been halfway done with the college entrance examination for a local university. your parents said the pain you felt the first time will turn into a mild itch whenever the flowers form on your skin.

it started small, absentmindedly scratching at something on your neck. initially, you thought it was the heat, your sweat, and the fabric of your clothes irritating the sensitive skin. but when you walked up to the proctor to turn in your exam, you knew that apologetic stare like nothing else—but his eyes had flickered down to your neck.

when your friends blew up your phone, asking where you are to celebrate, you lied and headed straight back home, head ducked, collars upturned, hiding the lilies of the valley wrapped around your throat like some insignia.

a year later, you end up studying soulmate theory in university. they say it’s a useless course as there can be no scientific explanation to soulmates. you like thinking you chose the course because of sheer interest but really, you’re just finding an explanation, some external reason that probably bore no results but you trudged forward anyway.

you’re restless in the pursuit of finding him—or her, you couldn’t care less. the hurt you feel weighs heavy in your heart each time you feel them blooming on your wrist, mind plagued with worry.

your roommate interrupts your deep thinking as she practically throws herself onto your bed. “i have an idea!” she cheers, determined. “why not part-time in the school clinic? that way if people come in, you can compare their cuts to your flowers.”

“now, you just might be onto something there.”

the hunt for your soulmate still wasn’t easy despite working in the university’s clinic and it only got worse each day. your schedule is killing you, you’re slightly getting behind in some subjects, and you practically live in the library.

contrary to popular opinions, soulmate theory can be a fucking bitch to study about. what with learning psychology, astrology, and botany all together. it was interesting how all these things can be factors in how people are paired to become soulmates. interesting, but rather complicated in a sense, too.

they say psychology and astrology dealt with two people’s compatibility. while botany, the meanings of the flowers themselves, was theorized to predict how the soulmate connection will affect their relationship—ultimately, roses were a really, really good sign.

you have been busy messing up your hair, utterly frustrated and irate—astronomy’s messing with your head and you can’t go a minute without scratching your wrists as the flowers bloomed after the other.

then something unexpected happened.

a lanky guy dressed in an all-black ensemble walked into the clinic. well, it was more of a being carried between two guys by the arms rather than walked in. everything about his clothes looked way too big to fit his delicate frame and it hardly looked like it was for fashion style purposes. his skin hugged his body to the bone, eyes sunken, and he looked so frail that a tiny shove would’ve sent him sprawled on the floor.

his name was taeyong and he lied on the bed unconscious, with handkerchiefs wrapped around his wrists like bandages—courtesy of his friends, who looked deathly worried for the fate of their poor friend. if he had lost any more blood, he would’ve died. you had never seen the clinic in such chaos, people running around, anxious. your leg muscles were sore from going back and forth from the nurse’s side to the cabinets storing all the medical supplies she needed.

it had been a whirlwind, and after your superior had patched and properly bandaged his cuts, you were left to look after him in the meantime as nurse jung tried contacting his guardian.

his friends—who you learned were named yuta and jaehyun, were snoozing outside on the bench across the hall, parallel with the clinic’s double-glass door, as they waited for their friend to wake up.

depression. suicidal. taeyong has been like that for his whole life, jaehyun stated earlier. you can only shoot a sorry look at the unconscious boy lying on the hospital bed.

it had already been dark outside when you came in to switch out his bandages for new ones—only to realize that his cut is exactly where you had been scratching earlier before he showed up.

you retracted, unbelieving of what that possibly entails. along the way, you’ve pieced together that your soulmate is probably struggling through something heavy, something that weighed him down so much that it made him believe hurting himself is the only solution, what with all the flowers on your skin.

“it’s him…” you mumble, wide eyed as you eyed the faded scars around his wrists, eerily aligned to the flowers blooming on your own.

you didn’t want to overwhelm him, that much was sure. you didn’t want to chase him away if he gets uncomfortable. so for weeks you started leaving anonymous notes in his locker. not the sappy love letter types, just little words of encouragement that could make his day better.

when their friend breaks out into the tiniest of smiles, yuta and jaehyun’s thankful eyes would scour around the halls. sneakily looking for you behind taeyong’s back. they understood where you’re coming from and hadn’t spoken a word of disagreement when you told them you didn’t plan to make yourself known as his soulmate yet.

and as if the notes were not enough, you start giving him his favorite starbucks drink every now and then—on days the flowers didn’t bloom as much as it normally would. you turn up half an hour early before lectures so you can place it on the table where he usually sits with his two best friends. even if his class is on the other side of campus, you’d still go.

but it only took three weeks of creeping around until you’re caught by your soulmate himself.

“do you want something from me?”

you didn’t know what to say, cat got your tongue as you stood before him holding the drink. you couldn’t weasel your way out and say the drink’s yours, not when he caught you standing before his usual seat, not when you were already leaning forward to place it on his desk.

“uhm… i…” you stutter pathetically, not being able to meet the intensity of his eyes.

“jaehyun and yuta aren’t exactly the most lowkey, especially with how much their eyes wander when i open my locker. so, do you want something from me? what are you playing at, stalker?”

the name he called you stung like a bitch but you can’t blame him for it. you knew him, he doesn’t know you. you’re giving him gifts anonymously. even if they were all from the goodness of your heart, from an outsider’s view, your actions still appeared sketchy.

“soulmate,” you correct him.

you watch his features twist into confusion, only for it to morph into shock once he’s digested what you just said. eventually, he schools his expression back to indifference. his stoic face is so intimidating, you thought, biting your bottom lip and fidgeting on your toes.

“what?”

“i’m your—i’m your soulmate.”

his eyes flicker downwards to peak a glance at the bouquet of flowers painted on your skin. colors as beautiful and vibrant as the day you got them, the stems of the bell-shaped flowers intricately woven into each other. for a split second, you even twist your arms a little, showing him the rock hard proof of your claim.

ever since you found him, you’ve always contemplated for the better part of your limited free time about what his reaction will be when he finds out you two are soulmates. will he accept you? or worse case scenario, pretend you didn’t exist? the possibilities are unknown especially with someone who seems to be going through so much that the last thing they wanted is this person who thinks they’re entitled to be part of their lives because the universe made it be that way.

not that you feel entitled… taeyong can reject you all he wants and you’ll give him the space he needs—

he’s crying.

and not the simple, small tears slowly streaming down his face one by one type of crying, no, his tears were an onslaught. full-on sobbing as he threw himself onto you, wrapping his arms tight around your shoulders as he buried his face into your neck, words heavily muffled by your coat.

“is it—” he hiccups. “true?”

you blink, from all the reactions you’ve gone through in your head, crying was the very last thing you expected from him—crying and hugging you like you’re the last person on earth and he’s been touch-starved until he found you.

maybe that was the case.

you wonder what jaehyun and yuta felt whenever taeyong ditched them to spend time with you—and that was pretty much all the time since he’s found you. he’s like a puppy, following you around wherever you go (unless he has classes) and had been neglecting his friends. whether it was intentional or not, whether his two friends were cool with it or not, you don’t know.

you try your best to smile every time he runs up to you on the other end of the hall, spotting you coming out of your own respective classroom after lectures are done.

he’s beaming like a child, inviting you to this cafe he wants to take you to—and pathetic ‘lil ‘ol you just can’t seem to say no to those huge expecting eyes.

but you’re not blind to the slight scowl on yuta’s face nor the razor sharp smile on jaehyun’s features. they want to hang out together, just boys, but now there’s this soulmate who’s suddenly more important than them—what happened to bros before hoes?

but they knew taeyong needed you. heck, he never once smiled like the way he did before he met you. it was like he’s become this whole new person with a child-like innocence reflecting his eyes.

“so?” your soulmate prompts just as his two friends came over, flanking him.

taeyong deflates the moment he sees the hesitance in your eyes. “uhm… i actually have a shift in the clinic, and nurse jung said the clinic isn’t some hang out place, so you can’t, uhh…” you trail, not wanting to finish the sentence.

a little white lie can’t hurt anyone, right?

taeyong shouldn’t depend on you all the time, not when he also has friends who care about his well-being and mental health just as much as you do. being soulmates didn’t mean he has to spend every waking moment with you and the faster he realizes, the better.

when you dashed away before he could even mutter out a reply, you miss the frown on his face, his eyes never once leaving your frame until you turned the corner.

people often favor the underdog. they have this gnawing urge in their gut to sympathize and unknowingly root for their own plot twist or happy ending.

people look at you and your soulmate and think you have poor, suicidal and depressed and sad taeyong eating at the palm of your hand, following you around like a lonely duckling—the undeniable underdog in a coming-of-age movie, the person shoved around until some bigger, more capable person comes to their rescue (in this case you, unfortunately).

but appearances have always been deceiving.

your little 3-week head start with getting to know your soulmate had only been on surface-level. you just wanted to help him but taeyong’s obvious attraction—can you even call it that? you’d like to think it’s more of infatuation—is off-putting for you. from standing way too close to putting an arm around you, from walking you to your lectures to walking you home, from the light headpats to having the guts to kiss your cheeks.

it’s too much and it wasn’t as if you basked in the public display of affection. whenever you tried telling him off in the most gentlest of ways, taeyong would frown and curl in on himself, eyes glossy, darting around, and looking like a kicked puppy.

you couldn’t leave him like that just because of some harmless skinship, right? he’s just excited and happy he’s found you. weren’t you also the first one to initiate? with all those notes and gifts you’ve given him? and now you’re backing away just because of a few touches?

“you know,” your roommate plops herself on the couch next to you, netflix movie playing as background. “you’re not obligated to fix him. you’re his soulmate, not his psychiatrist.”

you sigh, head diving into the couch pillows. “i’m not trying to fix him, i’m just…”

she raises a prodding eyebrow.

“…i’m just trying to be there for him.”

taeyong likes to think that he wasn’t doing it on purpose. but the sense of rush and sick pleasure running up and down his spine whenever you force a smile and give in to his wishes proves otherwise.

all his life he’s been pushed around. tasked to buy his old man beer and cigarettes and an assortment of drugs. if he turns up empty handed, guess who becomes a punching bag? and he has always been alienated throughout his school life. immature elementary kids aren’t exactly the kindest and would’ve picked on every single thing to appear cool to their friend groups. and poor little scrawny taeyong who didn’t speak and didn’t defend himself was just too easy of a target.

“uhm… you don’t—don’t need to walk me home all the time.” do you think so low of him that you believe he doesn’t sense your fake little giggle?

“but i like walking you home,” he pouts, jutting his lips just a wee bit more for extra measure. he makes sure his eyes are as round and glossy as can be, he noticed those puppy eyes are what gets to you the most.

he can tell by your tense shoulders, the clear hesitance in your face, that smile that looked too sweet to be real, and your averting eyes. you needn’t say anything for taeyong to figure you out. he isn’t blind to the lack of comfort you’ve developed by being with him.

he has to think of something or else you’ll be slipping through the gaps of his fingers.

he asked you out on valentine’s day. it wasn’t the simple, forgettable act of popping out the “hey, do you want to go out on a date with me?” question while holding a bouquet of flowers. taeyong made sure you’ll never forget this certain day that he had laid his claim on you—not that it needed to be vocalized, it was his wounds that made flowers bloom on your skin. the soulmate connection should be enough.

but taeyong wanted to go the extra mile.

with the help of his friends (yuta’s popular and jaehyun can be very persuasive), he’s got people handing you lilies of the valley every ten feet until you reach the auditorium in the main building. despite it blooming on your skin you’ve never really seen them in the flesh. they’re like dew drops, bell-like flowers growing in an elegant dip from it’s main stem and appearing no bigger than your thumb.

you were awed, but skeptical.

you meet taeyong by the end of your little journey, standing on a decorated stage with a bouquet of the flowers nestled delicately in his hands. the natural sunlight bleeding through the open windows giving him such a beautiful glow that you couldn’t take your eyes off him. he had smiled and timidly gave you the flowers while asking.

“will you be my girlfriend?”

if only you’d look close enough, that sugar coated smile contrasted greatly to the sly flickers in his eyes. he knows how your actions are dictated by the reputation you’ve built. taeyong knows you'll say yes, because if you didn't, how could you have rejected your own soulmate who has made you the light of his life? he’s been nothing but kind to you and you’ve only pushed him away! you’re a monster! you should’ve saved him!

if him alone can’t make you say yes, maybe the pressure-induced stare of the whole student body can.

and as you shivered amidst taeyong’s suffocating hug, feeling the triumphant smirk against your head and his prodding nose as he sniffed your hair, you now understood why your body bloomed this specific woodland flower.

lilies of the valley are beautiful.

but lilies of the valley are poisonous, too.

the flowers remind you of taeyong.

making things official has only made things worse. taeyong has promised you that after being together he won’t try hurting himself anymore and that he’s a big boy and he can attend his therapy sessions alone. but the itching in your skin is as constant as ever and you just got off the phone with the receptionist of the clinic he goes to.

“are things alright? i haven’t seen taeyong since three weeks ago.”

if there’s one thing you absolutely hate doing with your soulmate, it’s confrontations. for the three months you’ve been together, taeyong has always, always spiraled out whenever you confront him about something. be it the mildest or the most superficial thing, what started out small will turn into a complete whirlwind and he’d be in a fit of tears by the end of it.

every single time.

you prefer happy taeyong than sad taeyong—if you can avoid it for as long as you can, you will. but you’re at your breaking point. him lying to you about his therapy sessions is the pin that popped the little balloon of security you’ve been protecting.

when you arrive home, he’s already there, crouched and sifting through your bookshelf. it wasn’t a surprise or anything out of the ordinary, he possesses the key to invite himself into your apartment any time. “hey, you’re home!” he immediately stands, barreling towards you.

he encircles his arms around you protectively as he pulls you flush against his body. you feel the tip of his nose prodding against your neck, hearing him inhaling your scent like cannabis.

you learned to ignore it, this habit of his—but just because you do doesn’t make you any less uncomfortable than the first time he did it.

you don’t bother hugging him back.

you were too pissed off to keep up with pretenses.

“the clinic called, said you weren’t attending your sessions. why were you lying to me?”

when pushed into a corner, you were never one to beat around the bush.

“i don’t like going alone, i told you that, remember?” he quickly replied, shoving you away. “i wouldn’t have to lie to you if you would just come with me for my sessions, don’t you think? you’re blowing this out of proportion when it’s all your fault.”

you wanted to pull at your hair. scratch that, you wanted to pull at his hair—no, not in that kind of way.

“how the fuck—” you stop. taeyong hates it when you curse. cursing will do you more harm than good. you inhale through your nostrils, willing yourself to calm down. “how is this my fault? i told you i have to run errands for professor kim!”

“then quit working there! they’re not even paying you, it’s just for extra credit! which you wouldn’t even fucking need if you weren’t flunking astronomy so bad.” taeyong must’ve seen your features twisting into that of betrayal. he was there when you were crying your eyes out because you failed the exam. he knew the subject was taking such a big toll on you.

how could he…

“don’t fucking look at me like that, kitten. you know it’s the truth.”

what is the point of this, some form of payback he’s subjecting you to? just because you didn’t come with him to his sessions? six months in this relationship and you already feel so drained, how would the universe expect you to keep up for a whole fucking lifetime together with him?

“why…” you choke, the tears building up in your eyes as your voice breaks. “so what do you want me to do, then?” you ask, because you genuinely don’t know.

does he want you to choose? is that it? you didn’t want to lose the credits, but you didn’t want to lose this relationship either, no matter how much you’re drowning in the toxicity of it all.

because this is your soulmate.

certainly, the universe wouldn’t destine you to each other if it would only bring forth chaos, right? taeyong has mentioned time and time again that this is his first relationship. of course, he’s depending on you to show him the ropes.

but it seems he isn’t really a big fan of how you do things.

“quit.”

you shake your head defeatedly. “you know i can’t. i’d have to take the whole subject again next semester and—”

“i said quit, dollface.” the finality in his tone renders you speechless. “then fucking take the subject again next semester! i don’t care. that’s your consequence for neglecting your major. why the fuck do i have to suffer, too, if my soulmate is such a failure?”

his words cut deep, deeper than flesh, cutting through bone as your knees the urge to buckle and collapse before him. “taeyong, please—”

“honestly, i don’t even know what you’re doing with that professor. you always brush it off whenever i ask you!” the glare he sends could kill. “is this… is this why you’re so adamant about not quitting? then again… what kind of professor is willing to pass his students just by interning for him? i can’t believe i’m only realizing this now!”

this is bad. this is very, very bad.

“whatever you’re thinking about is not true! trust me—”

but as if he can’t hear you, he dawdles on, trying to connect the dots when there is absolutely nothing to connect.

“you suck dick for grades? how could you do this to me? how can you do that to yourself?”

you don’t understand exactly why he’s crying again so you don’t say anything. not because his fierce accusations were right but because even if you try hard to convince him that nothing is going on with your astronomy professor, he’d still cry and whine and paint you to be the bad guy.

“what… what use do i have in this world if my soulmate thinks i’m not enough? and i lost you to some guy who smelled like prunes of all people!” you would have laughed if the situation had been different, but taeyong was dead serious. “i’m useless. i’ve been useless with my family, my friends, and now you. i can never do anything right, can i? i can never make anyone stay. i can’t even make you stay!”

and like a switch that has been flicked off, your conflicted emotions vanish in thin air. gone are every trickle of anger, confusion, and irritation you felt as he makes a beeline to the coffee table, smashing the little ornamental fish bowl and pointing a shard against his dainty wrists.

“no!” you tackle him to the ground, groaning when you feel the shard dig into your side yet you made no effort to get off of him. blindly, you reach, twisting his wrist to drop the piece of glass. “you promised!” you wail, clutching the collars of his shirt as you pull him close to you. “stop, stop hurting yourself.”

you feel him shaking his head, his own onslaught of tears staining your shirt as the negativity he’s been bottling pours over like a tsunami, dragging you under the currents with him. “no, no, no…” you splutter, snot running disgustingly down your nostrils. “it’s not true, none of that is true. you’re my love, my moonlight, i’d never betray you for anyone or anything!”

“but—but your professor, the internship—”

“i’ll quit. i’ll take the subject again next semester, it’s not a big deal, okay? don’t worry, i’m here. i’m so sorry!”

it was all too easy.

the thing with noble people like you is the foolish sense of responsibility lying underneath your skin, it’s gravitational pull so strong that you don’t bother to think before you speak, to think before you act, to think before you make promises, because what’s important isn’t yourself, it’s the person lying meek and helpless before you.

quit, you say? taeyong wants something more.

the evil lying inside pandora’s box can never remain dormant, not when meddlesome people like you who think with a one-track mind pull the lid off its hinges, preaching how every evil can have their own redemption.

a hand finds purchase around your waist as an eerie blissful smile stretches on his lips, eyes clouded over. “really? i’m your moonlight?”

“yes—”

“would you prove it to me?”

he doesn’t make room for your hesitance to settle, he lunges, hands wrapping around your face to pull you into a kiss. it wasn’t like all the other kisses you’ve shared with him, no, this one had a dark, underlying purpose. his hands digging into your open wound to make it bleed, tongue sliding into your mouth the moment you gasped in pain.

your hands press on his chest, trying to push him away but taeyong’s thoughts are running wild. you blush in sheer humiliation when he lets out an almost pornographic moan. with a sinking realization, you’ve become hyper aware of something poking at your abdomen.

no, not yet. you weren’t ready yet!

“taeyong, wait—i’m not—”

“you said you love me, didn’t you?”

#nct imagines #taeyong imagines #nct scenarios #taeyong scenarios #yandere taeyong #yandere kpop #yandere nct #yandere nct 127 #idk how to tag stuff geez

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sharkbait77 · 3 years

Text

The Sun Sets With You

Chapter Four: The Foundation of Growth

Summary: A simple yet despondent farm life suddenly sparks with new hope when an unusual traveler makes your town his latest stop and brings with him intriguing and promising viewpoints and no one to share them with. Until he meets you.

Pairing: Ezra Prospect x f!Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Silas is officially his own warning! Death of a parent, depressive undertones, grief, food, pls lmk if I missed any!

W/C: 3.3k

A/N: This one is loaded with feelings guys, I didn't mean for it to be so heavy handed in the grief area, but I hope the conversation Ezra has with Reader offsets that. I definitely got into my own feelings about loss with this one, so I'm really sorry in advance if it's too much to handle. Read at your own risk, I've said it before, this story is not for everyone, always take care of yourself first & foremost lovelies. I've got some fluff coming up to make up for this one! I'm still building the plot you guys, I hope you're still with me!

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Chapter Three || Chapter Five

~MAY THIRD OF EIGHTEEN SIXTY-SEVEN~

Two weeks have since passed; Pa and Ezra had tediously worked the fields, sowed the seeds with care, and the fruition of all their work thus far has resulted in the small sprouts now growing from the Earth. ‘One of Mother Nature’s greatest gifts’, Ezra had said once while you gazed upon the rows of leaflets. Rebirth, growth, new beginnings. You find yourself envying the fresh buds, wishing to crawl into the dirt and begin again as well.

The shop is quiet today. Since you chased away the older women looking to learn more about Ezra Prospect, you haven’t heard a peep since. Quite surprising, though you count your blessings and hope the silence will hold, if only for a moment longer. The children play in the road with the stray town dog and you catch yourself giggling as you watch them. Such innocence in their youth. You only hope life treats them kinder than it had to you.

The shop bell dinging pulls you out of your thoughts and you stand straighter to greet the customer. Lucille Jones enters, without the overbearing presence of her mother – a shock in and of itself. She walks with her hands entwined in front of her, her head lowered some, and blonde ringlets of hair fall forward to frame her face, but she still carries a gentle smile on her face as she looks up at you.

As much as you pitied the outcome of your own life, you could not help but pity Lucille’s tenfold. Her father had fought and perished in the war, the only person to have shown her love and caring, and she was now left with her mother, who was ready to practically pawn her off to the next richest man to come through town.

Were it not for her mother’s meddling, you know the two of you would be great friends. She may be the only other person in this town who can empathize with your despondency; her dreams, likely, have been ripped from her as well. Though, it makes the curiosity spark within you as you wonder why exactly she has shown up in the shop so suddenly and without her mother.

“Hello, Lucille. It’s nice to see you,” you say politely. She nods in return. Timid girl. “May I interest you in anything? I’ve concocted a new healing agent to help with the pesky bug bites during the summer,” you offer gently.

“I-I’ve…” She squeaks. You cock your head slightly at her.

“Lucille, what has your nerves so rattled?”

“I’ve come as a favor to my mother. And Mrs. Foster and Mrs. McKenna.”

She faces you head on now, her soft voice filled with determination to complete her mission, yet her eyes, filled with regret, betray her. You raise your eyebrows in contempt and sigh deeply, and upon seeing your reaction, Lucille’s desire to help her mother gossip dissipates. She quickly steps forward, the heels of her white boots clacking against the wooden floors and the skirts of her pink dress flowing behind her.

“I’m so sorry, I did not wish to come and gossip. It is not my desire. My mother… She would not rest until I agreed to come here,” she laments, the quiver in her voice proving to you that she truly meant no harm. “I will pass on the news that you will speak to no one. Forgive me,” she says, her head hanging lower now than at the start of this conversation as she turns to walk away.

“Wait,” you call out. She stops in her tracks, but does not turn to face you again. You walk around the counter to her position. “Lucille… Why do you follow what your mother commands of you?” You ask softly.

“I…” She looks up in your eyes, tears forming in her own and you swear you feel a string in your heart snap at the sight. “I have no choice.”

“Yes, you do. You can choose to leave all this behind, leave this town and its capability to drain the life from you. You do have a choice for how you desire to live your life.”

You hold her by her shoulders as you speak and you realize you are sharing advice with her that could very well be said to your own face. You know it is not a possibility for you, but if you were able to help Lucille leave town and save her from feeling the same hopelessness as you, a part of you would be freed as well, knowing she will have been able to move on to better things.

She stares at you, the tears in her eyes now dried up and you see a small spark of hope in them, but before you can speak more to nurture that spark into a larger flame, the shop bell dings again. Based on the dark figure in your peripheral, the stomp of large, gaudy boots walking in, the heady scent of cheap cologne filling your nostrils, you know exactly who it is.

Lucille looks at the man first and you remove your hands from her shoulders, taking a step back and inhaling a deep breath, nearly choking on the fragrance now overpowering the shop.

“Hello, Mr. Taylor,” Lucille greets, bowing her head slightly.

“Hiya sweetheart,” he responds in a predatory voice and you snap your head in his direction.

“How can I help you, Silas?” You ask quickly before he can intimidate poor Lucille.

“I heard you’ve got some queer working on the farm now,” he chuckles.

“Do not call him that,” you bite and Silas immediately stops laughing.

“Darlin’,” he takes a step toward you and Lucille backs away against the shop wall. “Don’t tell me you have befriended him. You’re too good for the likes of a freak.”

“You don’t know him,” you reply, keeping your head held high with determination, but you instinctually flinch when Silas barks out a laugh.

“And you do?!” He says, grinning wickedly. “For your sake, honey, I truly hope not.”

“What is your meaning, Silas? He works on my farm, it is only natural that I will, and have, come to know him.”

“Perhaps,” he says, his voice dropping to a lower, more aggressive, octave. “Just be aware of the consequences if you come to know him as more than the simple farmhand he is.”

You wish to spit in his face, to continue defending Ezra, yet the instincts within you beg for you to stop. Though you’ve never been one to cower at Silas and his schemes, you’ve also never seen him as he is before you. Crazed, animalistic, frightening. You’re unsure of what he truly is capable of and you would hate for now to be the time to learn.

Despite the resolute expression you attempt to hold, your eyes must shine with the light fear he managed to instill in you with his threat because he flashes a satisfied smirk, a laugh escaping his flared nostrils as he backs away from you. He turns on his heels and faces Lucille again, huffing a goodbye to her and glancing over his shoulder at you before walking out.

“Are you all right?” Lucille asks softly. You only nod in return. “That man is…” She scoffs, understanding how loathsome he is.

“Not a man. A beast.”

~MAY FIFTH OF EIGHTEEN SIXTY-SEVEN~

As you exit the house, ready to meet Ezra at the place you now share together, you reach up to grab an apple from the tree for yourself and throw it in your bag along with your book. You take a step away then halt just as quickly. You consider Ezra, and smile to yourself as you reach up again to grab another apple from the branch, setting it gently inside your bag.

As you approach the oak, you see Ezra standing near the edge of the river, his hands clasped behind his back and head held high. He seems to be enjoying the scenery and you try to lighten your steps so as to not draw him from his serene moment, but the grass crunches under your boots as you walk, regardless of how careful you are, and Ezra turns his head in the direction of the noise, smiling brightly once he sees you.

“Dear Sunflower, I was afraid you would not show today,” he says as he turns his whole body to face you.

“My apologies,” you catch your lip in between your teeth, hiding the amused grin forming on your face, your heart skipping a beat at the knowledge that he had been waiting for your arrival. You dig in your bag in search of the apple you plucked specially for him. “A gift for keeping you waiting,” you say and hold the bright, red fruit out to him.

“Sunflower,” he gasps softly, as though you had just handed him a precious gem. “Thank you. A sweet and kind gesture from someone as equally generous; it will not be forgotten.”

You nod once while you bite the inside of your cheeks. What has gotten you so giddy? He merely gave his thanks for your offering, but the smile on his face, his eyes searching yours to clue him in on what has you so affected, makes a schoolgirl-ish giggle escaping your throat.

You reach for your own apple and drop your bag down in the grass, closer to the tree, and you step closer to the river, kneeling down and carefully dipping the apple into the cool stream to wash the skin. Ezra kneels down beside you and follows your lead.

“These are from the tree by the house. The last tree I was able to plant with my mother before she-”

You pause, immediately feeling your throat constrict and halting any further words from falling from your lips. You’ve not spoken so carefree of your mother to anyone, and the suddenness of your desire to do so catches you off guard. Though you have gotten to know Ezra as more than an acquaintance, the truth of the matter was he is still a stranger to you.

You sense the energy shift around you, and you bite your tongue in penance for turning such a peaceful time into an unpleasant one. Ezra stops washing his apple and leans up straight again while you keep your hands under the cold water, scared to look into his eyes and see judgement.

“Sunflower,” he calls and you startle slightly. After a moment of silence, he speaks again. “If you were to wash that fruit any longer, I’m afraid it may lose its red complexion and turn into a shade of white.”

You cannot help the awkward chuckle that falls from your mouth and you lean up straight as well, still avoiding his gaze as you dry the apple with your apron. Aside from the running water next to you, the air is silent, neither of you speaking a word.

You continue drying the apple, turning it over and over in the cloth around your waist, even though you’re sure there are no water droplets remaining. Suddenly, a loud chomp is heard and your eyes snap up to the offending noise to see Ezra bringing the apple away from his lips, and the two of you break out into gentle laughter.

“Sunflower,” he begins after swallowing the piece of fruit in his mouth. “This is truly the sweetest apple I’ve ever bitten into, and I wholeheartedly believe it is because you and your dear mother were the ones to nurture the tree that grew it.”

The smile that remained on your face from your laughter slowly falls as you remember the day your mother suggested you plant the tree from a seed she accidentally bit into. You can recall her giggles as she grabbed you by the hand and pulled you outside, instructing you to grab the small shovel that was laid by the house while she held the seed in her closed fist.

Pa had said it would not take, chuckling and shaking his head as your mother shooed him away, reprimanding him for cursing the seedling before it had a chance to grow. And, with much love and dedication that your mother insisted on carrying out together, the small tree grew, and soon after, sprouted the shiny, red globes.

“I… I apologize for the sudden change of atmosphere, Ezra,” you say quietly, glancing up at him sheepishly and, to your surprise, are met with a gentle smile of understanding across his face.

“Please do not apologize for reminiscing upon your loved one. It is a hobby I frequently partake in. The memories… They are what keep them alive. No longer with us in the physical sense, yet they live in the grass, in the rivers. In the trees.”

“Like the Green?” You ask shyly as you pick at the stem of your apple.

“Yes. They are born again, just in a different form, but always here to remind you of life. Much like the apple tree is a reminder of your mother.”

You wonder to yourself if Ezra has been a victim of loss as well. The way he speaks of it seems as though he talks from experience, but you do not dare ask. As uncomfortable as it can be for you to speak about your mother, you’d hate to bring that discomfort to him as well. Yet… He speaks so openly, so calmly, that you feel yourself longing to open up.

“Perhaps if I dream of the Green, I would see my mother again,” you say under your breath, feeling the tears that have so long desired to flow build in your eyes with an unbearable pressure.

“You do not need to wait until your dreams, dear Sunflower. You only need to look around at the life surrounding you to know she is here. Close your eyes and she will appear.”

You only have the strength to nod, the lump stuck in your throat as thick as Pa’s dreadful grits he so enjoys making during the winter. A small laugh bubbles over as you remember the way your mother put up the facade of enjoying his grits only to empty them in a bucket to be fed to the cows at a later time.

You look back up at Ezra and he smiles, his eyes shining with compassion, no hint of judgement or scrutiny to be found, and the lump in your throat vanishes, comfort radiating from his person onto you like a warm, wool blanket.

“Would…” You hesitate, but an overwhelming urge to share with Ezra commands you to continue. “Would you like to see her?”

“I would love to,” he nods gently.

You smile softly, leaving your apple to rest in your lap while you carefully pull at the chain around your neck until the small locket emerges from underneath your blouse. You scoot closer to Ezra and he mimics your movement, leaning closer to you as well and you recognize that this is the first time he has been in such close proximity to you.

You shove the tip of your fingernail between the crevice of the locket until it pops open, revealing the black and white photograph of your mother that you yourself have not taken the opportunity to look at in far too long. The length of the chain is still too short for Ezra to get a proper look, so he leans in closer, your heads mere inches apart.

You feel your pulse thumping against your chest, the vein in your neck throbbing as you feel the heat emanating from him. He smells of cedarwood and the hay bed he sleeps on, a light scent of sweat from working the fields, and something almost sweet, a unique aroma to be found only on his person and no one else.

“She is very beautiful, Sunflower. It is as plain as the nose on my face that you are her daughter,” he compliments, backing away from you slowly and you giggle softly as you place the locket back into your blouse. “What is her name?”

“Emma,” you smile genuinely, for once feeling not one ounce of sadness as you say her name aloud.

“Emma. She is now the sun, moon, and stars that shine down on you, Sunflower.”

You smile once again and nod as you place your hand on your chest, feeling the cool metal press against the warm skin covering your sternum. You close your eyes and let the sun’s rays warm your cheeks as you take a deep breath, heeding Ezra’s thoughtful words and imagining that your mother is, indeed, the sun kissing your face.

“Thank you for allowing me to share my thoughts, Ezra,” you say after a beat of prolonged silence. As you look over at him, you see his head lowering, too, as if he had mimicked your action and let the warmth of the sun fall on his face as well.

“You have no need to thank me, dear one. I am elated you deemed me worthy to share your thoughts with. If you ever desire to share again, please know I am here,” he says softly as he smiles.

“You are a very good friend, Ezra. I am happy to know you.”

“And I, you.”

You look down at your lap to your forgotten apple, raising it to your mouth to take a bite and Ezra resumes eating his as well. Once you’ve both bitten down to the core, you both toss them into the river and you stand up, allowing the blood to circulate through your legs again before heading over to the tree.

You bend over to collect your bag along the way and your book falls from the opening as you stand straight. Before you are able to bend down to grab it, Ezra is already there, lifting it in his hands while he reads the cover.

“‘Alice’s Adventures In Wonderland’?” He smiles quizzically.

“I understand it is for children, but I quite enjoy the adventure and wonder of it,” you say, smiling from embarrassment.

“I do not judge what a young lady chooses to read in her spare time, Sunflower,” he grins as he hands the book to you. “I have yet to read this one. Will you read it aloud for me?”

“Yes,” you nod. “If you’d like.”

You both sit down in the grass, leaning your backs against the trunk of the oak tree as you find the page you last left off. The scene of Alice’s trial has Ezra suddenly captivated as to what caused Alice to be put on trial, unfairly it seemed. You do your best to explain, which only produces more questions from Ezra.

You giggle at his frustration over the treatment of this poor girl and decide to start the book over for Ezra to follow along, a genuine happiness washing over you at the thought of reading this story to Ezra for the weeks to come. He leans in closer, as though the distance you had between you previously was too far for him to hear you and you stumble over your words slightly.

You still do not understand this feeling overcoming you; the only thing you do understand is that you do not feel the need to place a guard around yourself as you do with the others in town. You want to share with Ezra, you feel comfortable enough with him already, though he has only been here for two weeks.

Yet, you feel as though you know him better than most around you and you feel that he understands you better than even your Pa. It frightens you, yet you have no desire to run from it, but rather towards it. A new path you find yourself carving into your mind.

Chapter Three || Chapter Five

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ninnodesu · 3 years

Text

“Can I See You?” ch 4 || Modern!Thomas

HEAVY trigger warnings for gore in this one. Don't read if you're really not into the cannibalistic portion. Butchering and shit. And eye stuff and yeah. It's somewhat heavy on the gore.

“Tommyyyyy… I’m bored.”, he shoves you off, probably for the fourth time in just ten minutes. You’ve been leaning over his bulky back for the good part of those ten minutes, getting on his nerves.

It’s been around four weeks since you’d gotten stranded in the middle of nowhere in Texas, ending up in the Hewitt’s household. Slowly, slowly, you’d gotten more comfortable with them, and them with you. You’d contacted your work, telling them you wouldn’t show up for a while due to an accident, explaining everything, except where you were currently staying. You’d gotten chores that could be done sitting down, and best of all; you’d grown closer to Thomas.

You’d had a lot of trouble adjusting to their way of living, however. Many dinners you resorted to not eating, or only eating pieces you saw weren’t meat. But after about a week of doing this, you couldn’t stand the pain in your empty stomach anymore, and you caved. You had to eat, the small amounts of potato and the occasional vegetable not enough to fill you. But you did stay away from Thomas when guests or trespassers came to the house. You knew what it meant, and even if you knew what kind of meat you were eating. You never wanted to see how it was made.

Right now, however, you were bored. And since Thomas was the one who was pretty much around you, or closed by every waking moment of your day, he was also the poor person who had to deal with your boredom. During these weeks, he’d taught you a few words and phrases in sign language. Mostly ones he felt were the most necessary, together with the alphabet. Today, he had transported you up to his upstairs bedroom because he was going to work on touching up one of his masks that had gotten ripped at a recent scuffle with a particularly feisty dinner guest. Apparently, he didn’t trust you to be alone for more than five minutes. He was sitting at the foot of his bed, with you laying next to him, supporting yourself on your elbows.

Pushing you off did nothing to keep you from poking him at his side with your good foot. “Tommyyy…”, he slowly turned his head to glare at you, and you gave him an innocent smile, trying your best to look like an angel who would definitely not do everything in her power to get on his nerves.

‘What’

His hand was slow as he spelled the word out. He was getting annoyed.

“I’m bored.”, you whine.

All he does is shrug and give you a sarcastic thumbs up. You groan and proceed to just lay flat on your back.

The only ones at home today were you, Thomas, and uncle Monty who were probably snoring on the porch. Charlie was out doing god knows what and Luda Mae was tending to the gas station she worked in. So, here you were, harassing Thomas. You pout behind him, fingers tapping on your stomach as you try to figure out what to do. Then an idea strikes.

You shoot up, thankful for the fact that your leg isn't as painful anymore, making it way easier to move around, even if you couldn’t fully support your weight on it yet.

Another attack on Thomas had you grabbing the mask out of his hands and carefully throwing it on the floor. You giggle as you see him just staring at his empty hands, trying to figure out what had just happened. The action was fast enough to shock him before he lifts his head to look at you. You grin like the devil at him and bursts out in laughter when he glares at you, eyes filled with annoyance, but one eyebrow raised in slight amusement. Again signing slow letters towards you. One at a time.

'W' 'H' 'A' 'T'

With his attention, your plan is set into motion . You knew he was really careful with you, meaning he would never hurt you or barely even use any strength towards you. You clumsily climb into his lap, straddling his thighs, making him tense like a statue, hands hovering and fingers twitching nervously making you laugh before attacking his sides with your own. His reaction is immediate and he bursts out in a barking and deep laugh, a wheezing sound sometimes escaping his lungs and he falls down to lay on his back.

Bingo. You thought.

As quickly as you can, you grab hold of his wrists and pin them down under your thighs, making sure they’re trapped between you and his abdomen. Previous knowledge dancing in your mind that despite his strength, he’s a gentleman, and never has he shown any violence towards you, especially not in your current condition. So pinning him in a way that at first glance looks sexual, would make him lose any and all strength.

And you’re correct. You watch him as his eyes shoot open, lips pressed into a thin line, at the realization where his hands are and he squirms. Another devilish grin appears on your face as you lean in close, making eye contact with him before you utter one simple word.

“Talk.”

His eyebrow furrow and his lips turn down and you feel him tug on his arms, trying to get them free to well… talk to you before he shrugs. “No, nonono, big man.”. You sit back up and clench your thighs hard around his hands.

You want to hear his voice. The idea being that if you pinned him hard enough or long enough that he would cave and actually speak to you. You’d heard him laugh just now, so you knew his vocal cords worked. Besides, he’d told you that himself. He can talk, he just chose one day to never do it anymore. So why not take advantage of your boredom and torture him into speaking. It wasn’t like you had any place to be.

“I want you to hear your voice.”, he raises one eyebrow but keeps his mouth shut. “I want to talk to you.”, again, he tugs at his arms. And again, you clench your thighs hard. Thanking whatever power there was that you had good thigh muscles, his response to this action, however, is a firmer tug and you see his biceps flex. But still, he refused to use his full strength, and you knew he was having fun halfway roughhousing with you.

“Can you stop? You’re not getting your hands for this!”, you laughed at him as he pouted up at you. Leaning forward, you poked his lips the pad of your index finger. “All you have to do is speak to me, nothing more.”, he playfully snapped his teeth at you and you nearly didn’t have time to pull back before your finger got caught and he laughed heartily at your reaction, looking really proud of himself at nearly biting your finger off. “THOMAS!”, you slapped his upper arm but laughed with him before you felt a pain in your cast up leg making you slump down next to him to relax it. “You’re no fun.”, you mumble up at him as he just turns his head to look at your own pouting form next to him.

A yawn escaped you, boredom had transformed into sleepiness.

“Hey, dummy.”, you say jokingly and pokes his masked cheek. He makes a face at you that screams “really?” and you giggle. “Nap with me?”, you continue. He shakes his head and spells out “mask” with his left hand, pointing out that it still needed those repairs. “Oh, come on. It’s not like it’s going anywhere, Tommy.”, he still shakes his and you relent. “Fine! Don’t then,” closing your eyes, you only feel the bed shift as he carefully climbs over you before falling into slumber.

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

Thomas lands rather wobbly on the floor after climbing over you. He pulls the thin duvet cover over you before he - as discreetly as he can - clears his throat and leans in close to your ear. His voice is just above a whisper. Deep, like distant thunder, as he says two words.

“Sleep tight.”

He picks the mask up that you had thrown down to the floor next to the bed and trudges over to his desk, slumping down into the chair to fiddle with it. Occasionally he glances over to your sleeping form with your back turned to him. He shakes his head at your persistence to make him speak to you. He didn’t understand your sudden fascination with his voice, but he shrugged, and honestly? It was kind of endearing that you wanted to hear him speak so badly. It was also a plus to have someone to roughhouse with, so he would keep this charade up and keep his mouth shut for a little while longer.

Checking that you had truly fallen asleep, curled up on his bed, he sneaks down to the basement. He had the rest of a body to cut up together with some cleaning to do. Plus sort a few stray pieces into a scrap pile of usable meat. Tying his apron around his waist, he docked his phone into a small shoddy speaker system he was lucky enough to snag from some travelers a while back. Not long after, music streamed through the basement.

He unhooks the most recent victim and grunts as the man is laid down on the table. Thomas looks over the parts he had yet to cut up to inspect for damages, finding none, he hums in delight, this meant there would be more meat for food. He starts the process by cleaning the body, scrubbing away dirt, and caked blood.

It’s a fast process, and it was a joy for Thomas to cut this man up, he had a good ratio of fat, and it had marbled really well. He nods as he inspects the meat, and makes sure to put this man in the “ special occasions ”-pile. He knew mama would love to have this man for special dinners. He did get disappointed though, as this poor victim didn’t have much around his ribs. Sadly, there wasn't much of a grillable rib on this man, he did save them of course, but they would most likely join the pieces for ground beef in the end.

He wrapped the pieces he got off of the body in packaging paper and wrote the day's date on them, and what parts they were from, and put the packages in the freezer box. Even if the poor man’s face was too beat up to make a mask off, Thomas did find joy in the fact that he could get some, nice and long pieces from the legs. Finishing his work, he picked up a slightly sharpened spoon. Despite his big fingers he gingerly stuck the edge of it under the man’s eyelids. Careful, as not to pop the eyes, he scooped them out, letting them both hang by their respective optical nerves. After snipping both optic nerves off with a pair of sharp scissors, he carefully rinsed them under some cold water and put them in an airtight container. His mother had perfected pickled eyes over the years and he loved them, that, and her beef jerky.

He cleaned up and tossed the leftovers of the body into a crawlspace he’d constructed that led out into the forest, knowing scavengers came to clean the remains he put there so he thought of it as killing two birds with one stone. Returning to the table he tossed a bowl of water onto the bloodied table and wiped it off.

When he finally felt he could end today’s work, he climbed the stairs and headed straight into the kitchen, fingers moving in the air, deep in thought, stomach rumbling. The munchies always hit him hard when working, and he always tries to push them aside. On the rare occasions where he was mostly home alone, he broke the “ no snacking ”-rule his mama had made for him.

Hence, Thomas goes on a hunt through the kitchen. Opening the biggest pantry, he grabs the first box of crackers he can find and basically inhales the entire box. Unsatisfied, he attacks the fridge and finds something he’s been craving for a long time; the beef jerky. Something he also devours like a ravenous animal, he took a few with him into the living room, munching as he went to slump down on the couch.

He loved being alone like this. It was quiet. No Charlie to pick on him, mama wasn’t constantly on his ass for something he had yet to do. Even with uncle Monty home, he didn’t make a sound, probably dead on the porch but most likely not. Knowing no one is there to scream at him for it, he props his feet up on the coffee table and basically lays down across the table and half of the couch, and lets out a deep sigh, almost deflating like a tire. Leaning his head back to rest at the back of the couch, he looks up at the ceiling through half-lidded eyes, his left fingers tapping slightly at his phone in thought, thoughts that seem to slowly topple over to the forbidden kind.

Fuck it. He thought to himself. And pulled his phone out of his pocket only to head straight for his gallery, he did feel gross for saving that one specific video you'd sent him though, he never asked if he was allowed to or not. He just did it. Looking over his shoulder out to the rest of the house he made sure he was really alone, listening for any movement from you upstairs, or any sign of Monty coming back in.

He quickly swipes for the video, his other hand coming to just rest over his crotch at first. Finally finding the video he was searching for, he presses play and sinks down a bit lower in his seat. It doesn't take long for him to grow and harden under his palm and jeans. His eyes raked over your form in the video. He hasn't watched it since you came here, nor has he touched himself since you sent it. His pants quickly became uncomfortable and let out a sigh of relief as he unzipped and let his erection spring free. Your voice sent chills down his spine, as it rings out from the phone’s speaker, he'd forgotten just how nice you sounded, and he wrapped his free hand around his swollen dick.

A shaky breath escapes him as he slowly drags his hand down himself.

Watching when you pump the toy in and out of you in a steady rhythm made a tinge of jealousy spike through him, his fist gripping harder, a finger dragging over the swollen, angry tip to gather a stray drop of precum. A choked groan escaped him as he nudged his barbell. His eyes went out of focus from his phone screen as he looked up in the general direction of his room. Where you were. Thoughts wandering to how your pussy would feel around him, moving his hand as far up as he could without letting go, he squeezed it as he slowly dragged the hand down. A desperate attempt at imitating how tight you must feel around him. His eyes fluttered shut as a particularly lewd moan from you echoed from his phone.

Thomas was desperate. It was so warm. He'd put his phone down as he let his fantasy take hold. Bucking into one hand, the other massaging his balls.

Glancing down at his lewd activity, he imagined your lips around his cock. Your eyes locking on to him as you let his dick spring free with a 'pop' and how your tongue would dance over his head. It was all so sudden. He tensed up, hand slowing down slightly when he came hard as he heard your climax echo from where his phone lay on the couch with a low moan that transferred to a whine, a slight wheeze escaping his lungs. His cum coated his thighs and hand. He just sat there. Hand still around his cock, hectic pumping exchanged for a slow, lazy stroking motion as he caught his breath.

Eyes half-lidded, the post-orgasm grin on his lips slowly fading into a frown as the realization that he now has laundry to do came to the front of his mind.

God damn it.

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

You slowly turned over to your back and stretched, a tired sound escaping your lips, sitting up, you noticed you’re alone in the room. Looking around you search for the old, shabby clock on the wall across from the bed.

Whoops… two-hour nap, you grimaced as your nap had become longer than you planned.

“Tommy?”, you called out. No reply. You groaned as you knew that meant he wasn’t in earshot and not having your phone with you upstairs, preventing you from texting him or calling him, meant you had to either support yourself against the walls and closest furniture to get down to the main floor, or to scoot on your ass. “Stupid… fucking… dumdum…”, you muttered as you scooted on your ass out to the hallway. Finally reaching the stairs landing you clung to the railing and hauled yourself halfway up it. “TOMMY!”, you screamed and pouted at him when you saw him poking his head out from the kitchen, you just hung over the railing and glared at the big figure who started to emerge around the corner and stalk towards the stairs, his whole demeanor screaming sarcasm and smart-ass, as he sauntered closer. Your pout growing more and more as you saw his shoulders bouncing in what you could only assume was laughter. “Can you just help me?”, you raised your voice and started flailing with your hands that were hanging over the railing, your eyes went wide as he shook his head before that familiar male voice rang out through his phone.

Get your own ass down

That’s the point where you burst out in laughter.

“Fine!”, you burst out between laughs and proceed to sit down flat on your butt again, preparing to just scoot your way down the stairs. You shot Thomas a look that clearly said “watch this”, as you started thumping down the stairs. One at a time, while Thomas just proceeded to stand in the same spot, now leaning on the door frame just shaking his head at your antics.

Thump Thump Thumpthumpthump Thump

And there you were, now laying on your side on the floor at his feet, rubbing your now sore behind with your hand, crocodile tears clear as you look for sympathy he clearly wasn’t giving you as he just took a step over you. Seeing your opportunity, you grabbed one of his legs the second it landed on the floor, your whole body jolting towards him as he stopped suddenly. You laughed hard as you hugged his leg. He turned halfway and looked down at you, a sigh heavy enough you almost felt your hair moving, you looked up at the giant and just grinned at him.

‘Let go’ he signed, but you could see his own grin even if it was hidden behind his mask and you shook your head.

“Let yourself go”, you joked. A yelp escaped you as you felt him lift his leg just like you weighed absolutely nothing and started shaking it to get you off his leg. Your laugh echoed in the house. An action that just caused you to clamp on to his leg even harder. It wasn’t until the main door opened and you both heard Charlie’s angry voice ring out that you finally did let go. The atmosphere changed straight away. “What the fuck is goin’ on?” You didn’t meet his eyes.

During these weeks, Luda Mae had warmed up to you. Her view of you had changed during the period, and by now, you were one of them. At least to her. Charlie still viewed you as a literal piece of meat. Cattle. The next one up on the dinner table. “I was sitting on the stairs to rest.”, you mumbled as you took a hand Thomas had reached out to you to help you stand and you leaned upon him as he helped you walk over to sit down on a chair in the kitchen.

Charlie just grumbled and waved Thomas over to him, saying something low you couldn’t hear. However, you usually knew what that meant; unwelcomed company. Something that was confirmed by Thomas as he visibly tensed up. Hands clenched into fists.

He was getting himself ready. Your Tommy was gone. Replaced by a guard dog ready to attack, he turned to you and you couldn’t help but shrink under his gaze. His whole appearance had changed in your eyes. You knew it was time to go up to his room and lock the door, and you nodded to him. As you stood he swiped you up in a bridal carry and headed towards the stairs. You gulped. You hated when this happened. No matter how well you knew they ate people, or… how you ate people, you never wanted to see nor hear it. It was easier to eat and continue surviving if you just pretended. Pushing that part away and hiding it behind the good times with Tommy.

But every time, you worried. You worried for Thomas, worried something might go wrong, worried that these people might be the ones who take him away from you. You’d had nightmares about that a few times. How you wake up alone in the house one morning, the entire family gone, taken by the police, or just plain dead. Those nights were always horrible. Those nights, you always called Thomas asking him to come down to the basement bedroom. Because those nights, you just needed to feel him close to you. Those were nights you curled up and cuddled around his arm.

Since you’d seen who Thomas really was, since you’d seen the ugly truth about him, you’d deny your feelings. Strictly holding it on a platonic level. But you couldn’t do that anymore. It was time to admit, not only to yourself but also to him.

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

Thomas stopped suddenly as he felt your hands tug at the neckline of his t-shirt as he went to set you down on his bed. He grunted slightly and took a soft hold of your wrists to try and pull your hands off. You didn’t move. He pulled his body again, no reaction. At least not more than his body going further downward. His brows furrowed as he started to get annoyed. He didn’t have time for this, not now. There were people coming, which meant he had to go to work. Not play your stupid games.

His grip got harder, but when he heard his name being uttered every so slightly by your small voice, he relaxed.

“Tommy…”, your voice was so low. You sounded so small, so… different. A tinge of worry tugged in his heart and he knelt down in front of you, he reached out a shaky hand to cup your cheek and lifted your head up so he could look you in the face. What meets him has his heart do a double-take. You're glossy-eyed, tears too close to be welling over for comfort. A stray strand of hair that had fallen forward is tucked behind your ear, and he looks at you with questioning eyes.

He slowly raises and spells out "yes", wanting you to continue, knowing he doesn't have much time to stay.

Your breathing sounds as shaky as he feels. "I…", he follows your eyes with his own, desperate for you to look him in his eyes. After avoiding his gaze, he relaxes slightly as you finally relent and meet him. But the next two words make him tense up, in a different way. Just as low as before, you whisper them out. "Kiss me." His breathing becomes ragged, still, as a statue, he looks at you as you lean towards him, but stop just inches from the hole in his mask. Breathing hot against his lips. He's nervous, scared, anxious… in love, but his body won’t move. It’s not listening to him. "Please…", the word a mere breath on him. He gulps, and just as he feels the feathery touch of your lips only brushing against his; he's up on his feet.

Footsteps are heavy and hurried. He closes the door to his room and locks it from the outside, something he only does when there are guests coming to the house. Afraid they’ll find you.

His heart is beating so fast, he’s shaky and sweaty. Suddenly his t-shirt feels even more clingy and cramped. He knows he can’t stay like this any longer. He got work to do. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he steps out of his body to let it do what needs to be done. Gone is Tommy, and all that’s left is the shell of a deranged butcherer. A maniac with a chainsaw.

He still has time to change. When he still had his job at the slaughterhouse, he had a green and red striped shirt. A shirt he still chose when they had guests over. With heavy footsteps, he heads down into the basement. After buttoning the shirt up he looked into the mirror, eyes dark and brows furrowed. When things were bad, he never even recognized himself when he looked it, during these bad days his arm guards were the heaviest things he had to wear. His apron was slung over his neck and tied neatly behind his back and the mask he mostly used during these events snugly pulled over his head. The killing mask, as he liked to call it. The one he had to use to distance himself from this.

While waiting for his signal from the main floor, he sat down at his desk. Making sure everything is secured, making sure nothing will get in the way. And most importantly; making sure his chainsaw is in working condition. Which, of course, it is. He took great pride in how he managed it. Always giving it a good clean after every dinner party. He’d memorized every video he’d found on the internet on chainsaw maintenance, since he knew they couldn’t afford a new one if this one happened to be damaged, one time coming close to it. But that was no concern of him at this moment of time.

Suddenly, he heard voices from the floor above him, voices and footsteps. And he figured; it’s almost time. His grip on the chainsaw hardened as he rose to slowly and carefully ascend the stairs, sneaking and making a conscious choice to skip the parts that he knew made creaking noises. Stopping at the top, he peered into the eye hole, installed at one point, to check how many he could see.

Two… two here. Charlie said at least three.

These ones look scrawny, not much to make use of. Shame, he really did want some nice ribs one evening, making him hope the third one had more. But maybe these had enough to make ground beef for burgers… He snapped out of his food-driven daydream as he heard his uncle Monty screaming for him from outside the sliding door. Three hard knocks on the floor were his call sign. And only seconds after the third one had echoed, he burst out. Chainsaw roaring, drowning out any other sound in the house.

At that, the chase began.

He managed to get one of them in the leg at one point, and she went down like a tree. Screeching high enough to pierce the mechanical roar, making his ears hurt enough for him to land a fist on her face to make her shut up.

One down, two to go.

Hauling her inside, he just threw her down the stairs to the basement, where she would have an abrupt awakening at some point, he’d learn that it was best to take care of them as fast as possible. It did taste better in his opinion. And so, he went off to get the other two.

Adrenaline is shooting through him. He’s hungry and wants dinner. And if a man wants to feed, a man has to hunt.

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

You heard screaming and clamped your hands over your ears. Your own screaming desperate to shut it out. It didn’t help. Putting your head under the pillow and squeezing it around your head didn’t help either. Nothing helps. They were still there. That screaming… That roaring. And the running.

You jumped when, suddenly, someone collided with the door. Desperately tugging the handle, making the door rattle. You had you press your hands over your mouth to keep quiet, to not scream, to not alert them you were in here. Some sick part of you never wanted to leave Thomas. You couldn’t leave. And especially not this way. When you heard his heavy footsteps stomping towards the poor person trying to get away, you started crying. When you heard a squelching, mushy sound, you wanted to puke. And you actually viciously gagged when you saw a crimson stream under the door into the room.

You didn’t want to think about what he had done to the person outside. You didn’t. You closed your eyes hard enough to see white spots dance across blackness and scooted further up onto the bed, hiding behind the pillow, in pure hope that you would disappear from this madness.

It really did feel like days… months, even before you heard the door make a sound. It sounded like a key was pushed into place, and then it clicked open. Lifting your head towards it, you saw him. Thomas. At least it had his body and his eyes. But it wasn’t him. Not Tommy. You started breathing harder, heavier.

Was he really going to see you? Or was he going to see… cattle?

He was drenched in blood, pieces of skin and flesh hanging off belts and buckles around his arms. His face… Not his own. This was not Tommy. This was the monster you’d imagined when you first woke up in the basement. The murderer. The butcher of Texas. And for the first time since you’d woken up bolted down on a table, you were scared. You didn’t want to look at him like this, didn’t want to see this.

“Please…”, you started and followed his eyes as they flicked all over the room, he was looking around. At nothing, and everything at once. Breathing heavy. Hands twitching at his sides before they clenched and unclenched. You tried again, tried connecting to him. “Tommy, please.”, his nickname seemed to make the eyes of someone else snap towards you. “Come back to me.”, even if you were shaking like a leaf, you needed Tommy right now. He looked directly at you before shaking his head, and a dark rumble erupted from him. “No.”, and with that. He left again. Bloody boot prints trailing after him. “Tommy, wait!”, you yelled after him, hoping to once again connect to him, to get him to come back to you.

But to no avail.

-------------------------------------------- It had been an easy fight for him, barely even any fighting back. They seemingly had just given up as they realized what was going to happen. Something Thomas was grateful for. He wasn’t in the mood for fist fighting or getting stabbed again.

His movements were slow and methodical as he cut them up. Loud music echoed through the basement. He was alone, and the cattle dead. So he seized the opportunity to work without his mask. He wanted to breathe free air. It was really rare of him to actually do anything except shower without his mask, even with the one that only covered half his face, but sometimes. Just sometimes, he wanted to.

His prayers were answered though, as the third one did have more to work with. Meaning; he would get those ribs he wanted one night. By the time he started to feel done for the evening, he’d managed to get a whole heap of good meat from the third victim. He wrapped them neatly in package paper, wrote today’s date on them, and put them at the bottom of the freezer box.

After working for the most part of the night, having three dinner guests to take care of, meant it was late. Really late. His mama had come down a few times, reminding him he had to eat, telling him she had checked on you. At one point, she had come down and told him you’d fallen asleep. But you hadn’t touched your food, and she told him she was worried. All Thomas did was tell her not to worry. Hours later, he was done. And finally, he could relax. Finally, he could let go of this persona. He could return to himself again. Very few things made him feel this happy. Every piece of his working attire that came off him felt like a stone leaving his shoulders. He was the only one who could keep the entire family floating, and he knew that.

After hanging the apron upon its hook, after he’d put the armguards down on their table, and after putting his mask back on, he ascended the stairs with heavy steps. He was tired.

And he missed you.

His mama had been a true angel and cleaned the puddle of blood up from under his bedroom door and the whole upper floor smelled of lemon. Just as he reached his door, his brain wandered back to what you had told him earlier. What you had done. What you wanted from him.

And when that thought came back, Tommy was thrown back into his body again, and he opened the bedroom door. His mama was right, you were sleeping, curled up with your broken leg sticking out from under the blanket . You, hugging his pillow with your face buried in it. Usually, when there's been a dinner party, you would sleep in his upstairs bedroom and he in the basement.

But now, things felt different for him.

He checked the time, you'd slept through supper, he just didn’t eat more than a few snacks while working, so he decided it was time for bed. Maybe he could gather enough courage to do what you wanted him to do earlier. Closing the door silently, the lock clicked. Boots were kicked off, jeans were left to fall as they were unbuttoned. The heavy clinking seemed to make you stir, and he saw you slightly opening your eyes. "Come here…", your voice was low, and it held something he'd never heard from you before, causing a small shiver to run through him, but he obliged and shuffled forward.

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

Here he was, Tommy. Your sweet, sweet giant. His body loomed over yours, his hair tickled your face as it fell forward making you giggle, something that was met by a dark chuckle as he wiggled more hair on your face. “Tommy, stoop!”, you laughed out quietly, but he shook his head in a mocking “no” and just continued swiping his dark locks over you if only for a few seconds more. You couldn’t help but laugh at his dorky behavior. All traces of the terrifying man you saw earlier, blown out to sea. When he finally did stop, your left hand reached out and cupped his right cheek as you tucked some hairs behind his ear. When you saw how he leaned into your hand and let his eyes flutter close, your heart did a double-take.

He stayed like that, seemingly relishing the feeling of your hand on his masked cheek and the way your finger brushed behind his ear, before he finally opened his blue eyes again, meeting yours. You saw how his eyes quickly flickered down to your lips. Where a small smile tugged, and you repeated the same words you had done earlier when he had left you. Voice low, whispering, words only meant for him to hear;

“Kiss me.”, this time, however, he didn’t run away. Your heart picked up in rhythm as you saw him lean in closer to you, his forehead resting against yours. Eyes intense, yet soft. He acted like he was scared, you could feel how his breathing was slightly ragged, you guessed he was nervous. Craning your neck towards him, to reach, he leaned back slightly. Yeah, he was definitely nervous all of a sudden, the thought of this big giant man, who the same day had killed people being nervous about a kiss, was nothing short of adorable. Again, you stopped just short of your lips meeting his, and breathed out that same word; “Please…”

You looked at him through half-lidded eyes, how his own slowly closed, and then you felt his lips land on yours through the mask. It was soft, not rushed nor forced. You ignored the chappy parts of his lips and relished in just feeling them on yours. Wrapping a hand around his neck, you pulled him down with you so you could both be more comfortable as the kiss deepened. You could easily tell that he was inexperienced, but he did seem eager to learn more, to feel more, and to taste more.

You caressed his neck and back of the head with one hand, the other carded through his hair.

Suddenly, he seemed to have gathered enough courage to take risks, and you felt the tip of his tongue graze your lips, kindly asking for an invitation. An invitation you gladly accepted, a moan escaping you as you finally felt his tongue meet yours. You couldn’t focus on how he tasted, he just tasted like Tommy. He was masculine, and dominant in nature when he wanted to be, and right now? It seemed like he wanted to be, his tongue strong and demanding against yours as he mimicked your movements.

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

Tommy happily drank in every moan that came down his throat as he danced his tongue over you. He loved this, he loved this so much. The way you reacted to only feeling his tongue against yours, made him braver. His right hand moved from its place by your head and started traveling over your left arm with featherlight touches. He gently grabbed your hand, pulling it up and over your head, opening up for easier access to your side, from where he slowly moved it upwards, he knew where to go, but then his body stopped listening to him. You whined slightly as his hand stopped just right under your breast, hand pulling back again as his thumb grazed the soft plump underside.

His brain caught up to him and he pulled away from your lips and sat up. Face warm and blushed, and he knew you could see it over the edge of his mask and down his neck because you giggled.

“Tommy, c’mere.”, you whispered to him and he saw how you reached out for his hands, he let you take them, but when he saw that you pulled them towards your breasts again he tugged them out of your grip and shook his head. He wanted to, dear god how he wanted to touch you. He wanted to hear your voice sing for him.

But he was scared. Nervous. The only sexual experience being a halfhearted blowjob from one of Charlie’s ugly hookers out of pity, something he figured she’d done because Charlie had talked about him in his drunken state.

But here you were. He just looked at you shyly. His breath hitched, however, when you suddenly rose up and pulled your shirt off. Bed bouncing lightly as you let your body fall down back on to the bed. Tommy’s eyes went wide as he saw your breasts jiggle softly as you lay back down. You were so beautiful, and he was just a big giant blushy mess who didn’t know what or how or why, if he spoke, he would probably just be a blubbering mess as well.

Again, he saw you reach for his hands, but this time, he shakily let you take them to their rightful place. He gulps as his hands are planted right under your breasts, your own hands helping him cup them gently, yet firmly. His eyes shot up to your face as he heard you sigh deeply at his touch. Your head lolled back, exposing your neck, the sight making him wet his lips with his tongue, an urge to hear more from you hit him.

Leaning down to where your neck met your shoulder he tested his waters and slowly dragged his tongue over your skin, his mask making so he couldn’t envelop his entire mouth over your skin as he wanted. The response he got from you, however, made him truly desperate.

Sitting up, his hand flew to the back of his mask but stopped right as he was about to unbuckle it. Anxiety hitting him hard. You seemed to notice it, though, as you followed him up into a sitting position.

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

His nervousness was clear as ice. But you could see in him that he wanted this. So you took his hands in yours and brought them down from the back of his head. “You don’t have to remove it.”, you whispered to him, you saw one of his hands come up, guessing he would spell something, you turned your head towards it.

‘Want’

You hummed at it and smiled. Turning back to look into his eyes, you asked;

“Want me to do it?” You dragged your fingers tenderly through his hair until you felt the buckles. You knew that taking the mask off to snap a photo must have been hard enough for him, so now? Taking it off in front of you? It has to be a real-life nightmare. He sighed deeply, then exhale being ragged and shaky. Yet still, he nodded. You felt his hands coming to rest on your waist.

“Okay…” You said before carefully and slowly unbuckling it. His eyes were closed during the whole removal. Finally getting it off, you cupped his naked and scarred cheeks, kissing the worst parts. Giving him the love he deserved, the one he most likely never got. His lips met yours again and you pulled him down with you. It seemed like he had gathered up more courage as you felt his big hands wander over your body, still shaking, they returned to cup your breasts. As one of his thumbs gently grazed over a nipple you lolled your head back at the sudden contact.

That’s when his attack came.

Lips and tongue made contact with your neck and you moaned . A sound that seemed to awaken something in him as he even bit down where your neck met your shoulder. He continued his adventure on your neck until your sounds had begun to die down only so slightly, but it seemed enough for him to go on a quest to hear more.

His mouth found one of your hardened nipples and decided to give it attention, in between gasping and your eyes falling close, you found and took his hand not occupied with anything and led it down… down across your body.

When it seemed he felt where you had led it, his eyes came up to your face to look into your own. His eyes filled with lust, and want, pupils were blown out, the blue of his irises a stark contrast.

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

“Tommy… Please.”, you sounded so desperate to him, so needy for someone like him. Who looked like him.

He brought his face back up to yours and as he gingerly pushed his hand down into your shorts, he himself made a needy sound as he felt how wet you’ve become because of him, he pressed his lips to yours the same moment his fingers made contact with your wet slit.

A way to cover up the now loud sounds you made as to not wake his family, and because of hunger, he didn’t know he had to swallow every bit of moan you made.

Burying his fingers deep inside you, his thumb rubbed massaging circles on your clit, he panted against your neck, the other hand clamped over your mouth to make sure you didn’t make too much noise, as he moved his fingers in and out of you. At the same time, he slowly ground his erection against your thigh. He wanted to feel you climax around his fingers, he wasn’t entirely sure why, but he needed to. He’d seen you do it to yourself, and a part of him wanted to replace any memory of your fingers with his own.

He grinned when he saw a shaky hand come up in the corner of his eye and he guessed you wanted to tell him something, but the hand he held over your mouth hindered you, so using your hand would suffice. When he saw you couldn’t fully concentrate, he pulled his fingers from you to give you time. Hand dragging your own slick over your breast to mess with you as he cocked an eyebrow in question.

Your breathing relaxed as you used the alphabet to give your word;

‘clit'

It was simple, a request, guidance, and Thomas were more than happy to please. You looked sweaty, but he happily obliged as his hand gingerly returned to massage gentle, but firm and methodical circles around your most sensitive part.

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

You pant into the palm of his hand as you felt your stomach clench, the muscles in your broken leg tense up. You were close, oh so close, and you wondered if he really was new to this, or if he was just lucky and really curious about everything.

Grasping at the arm wedged between your breasts that held the hand over your mouth, you opened your eyes, only to find his burning gaze locked on your face. He was looking at you like a hungry animal. His eyes sent full body shivers running through you. The familiar pulsing around your clit became worse as his lips parted slightly, his tongue running over his dry lips, removing his hand from your mouth, he captured your lower lip between his teeth lightly and pulled. A deep but raspy rumble came from his throat as he pushed two fingers into you while still rubbing his thumb over your sensitive nub, your eyes went wide and all it took for you to snap completely was one single, vibrating word coming from his throat;

“Cum.”, and you did. You came hard. Your whole body shaking under his. Arching off the bed. You tensed so hard, no word could escape. The only sound being wheezing breathing from your lungs. You went limp, but you knew that this wasn’t the end. You felt his broad hands slide over your thighs in a calming motion, a finger tapping on you got your attention and you opened your eyes.

He just smiled down on you, raised a hand, and signed;

'U ok'

You breathed out a laugh.

"Yeah… yeah I'm alright.", you reached out for him and he happily put his own cheeks into your hands and nuzzled into one of them. You pulled him close to whisper; "I want you, Tommy.", he sighed softly as he pressed his forehead to yours. "I've wanted you for so long." You kissed your way to one of his ears, gingerly biting down on his earlobe, he shivered at it. "Please, fuck me, Tommy.", you said in a sultry voice and he groaned.

You cursed your leg since it hindered you from climbing on top of him. You wanted to trail your lips down his muscles, over his abdomen, and to explore the wonderful trail of hair that ventured down from his belly button into his boxers. Pushing him off the bed so he could stand in front of you, however, worked. The angle was perfect. His height putting your face just above the edge of his boxers. Your hands ventured from his thighs, slowly up his abdomen, a small almost unnoticed gasp left his lips as your fingers brushed over his nipples as you reached his pectorals.

Sitting up, your hands groped over his pectorals. You're stunned at his physique. He was soft where you liked it, muscles strong and firm where it mattered the most. You felt a finger under your chin as he lifted your head up to look at him, a grin danced in the corner of his lips, seeing it almost made you forget how to breathe. His grin made you braver and you let your hands travel downwards again while looking into his eyes. He made one sharp inhale as you slowly run your palm over his clothed erection.

Hooking your thumbs into the waistband of his boxers, you left a trail of kisses across his happy trail, leading downwards until you felt the part of him that seemed to silently beg for you. Neither photos nor videos did him any justice, and you moaned around his dick as his fingers tangled in your hair. His breathing was heavy, snarls and growls emanating from above you the deeper you managed to push his enormous cock down your throat.

Hollowing your cheeks as you drag your lips and tongue up and off of him, your tongue pressing on the underside massaging lightly at his silver jewelry, something that made him practically pull your mouth off of him with a pop. A clear snarl escaped him when you looked up at him with lips wet and swollen, and you couldn’t help but grin like the devil at him . He snarled at how you looked up at him, lips wet and swollen, and you couldn't help but grin like the devil at him.

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

Pushing you back down into the bed, he helped you off with your shorts before carefully putting your damaged leg up on his shoulder, something he had seen on the internet. Looking down at you, you looked so small and innocent, compared to him. An angel; undressed, needy, wet. And all of that for him. His heart was a drum, dangerously close to escaping his chest.

He felt like such a creep, a pervert who just stared down at your naked form. Hands groping your thighs and giving each of them a delicious squeeze before caressing your abdomen. One part of him was scared that he would damage you, the other part of him, laying over your mound and throbbing in pure need, wanted nothing more than to imprint himself into you. He jolted out of his reverence as he felt your hands wrap around his length, slowly moving over his head, making it wet with precum before you said the words he wanted to hear;

"It's okay, Tommy… I want you.", he nodded and pulled back slightly, letting you help guide him home.

A whine and a haggard groan came from him as he felt you slowly wrap around him, and his head fell backward. Warm, wet, and tight. All he wanted at this moment was to keep pushing until all of him was hilted inside you , but a small whimper from you pulled him out of his trance and he was quick to pull out before you stopped him.

"No! It's okay!", Thomas looked down at you with worry in his eyes, but a few reassuring “okay"s and "it's fine"s managed to convince him, and slowly he pushed further in.

Thomas was soaring at this point. Your walls hugging him in all the right places, your moans and gasps sending shivers down his spine and exploding in his cock. A groan left him as he felt your walls clench when his tongue entered your mouth. Slowly, he started thrusting.

The first one had you gasping into his mouth. At the second, you broke the kiss. The third, a particularly loud moan left you, making him have to clamp his hand over your mouth again. When the fourth thrust hit, he saw your eyes roll back and you arching off the bed, and he took that as his sign to go to town.

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

You were a total mess. Your head was bleary, your eyes blurry with joyful tears. Your ass is moist from your own arousal that streamed down your thighs as Thomas' fucked into you as a man starved.

He had hurt first, his dick big enough to split you in two if you were unlucky. But as soon as the pain had subsided, you begged for more.

For "harder" and "faster", words that only spurred him on, his thrusts became deeper, hitting parts inside you you didn’t know could feel good. Making you a blubbering mess, his name tumbling out from behind his hand every time the lewd sound of his hips hitting your wet thighs reached your ears. So here you were, a hand tightly clamped over your mouth to keep you from alerting the family of your activity with tears of pleasure streaming down your face.

Suddenly, you felt even more pleasure as he started rubbing your clit with his other thumb. All you could do was look down at the mess he had made of you and up to his eyes.

Him, just as much of a mess as you, huffing and puffing, hair sticking to his forehead, chest coated in sweat, pupils blown wide and brows furrowed, face contorted in pleasure. The sight made your cunt clench around him, squeezing a wheezing sound from his throat.

His attention to your clit quickly brought the familiar feelings of your orgasm. Wiggling your upper teeth free you to bite down on his hand as you looked into his eyes, your own pleading for release. One hard press and a few circles with his thumb made you snap. One hand gripping the sheet until your knuckles turned white, the other clawing at his arm, you had to force yourself not to scream behind his hand as you came on his dick. His hips started moving in pure desperation, and you figured he was close. He leaned in, and you felt his lips and tongue brush against your neck before that deep, baritone voice of his came out in your ear again; "Haaahhh… fuck." How he managed to make one word feel so filthy, you had no idea. What you did know was that you wanted to hear it again. And again. And again . Wrapping your arms around his neck, one hand entangling in his hair and grabbing a fist full of his dark locks to pull at it to pull his face to yours, your action earning you a delicious sound from him. Tommy is an absolute mess, he’s trembling above you.

And you can’t help but smile at him.

“Are you close, baby?”, you whisper to his lips and he nods fervently as he desperately chases his release. Pulling his hair again, you expose his neck to you. The neck you’ve wanted to taste since you saw his face for the first time. Whimpers begin to tumble from him, adorable desperate sounds of pleasure escaping as you slowly drag your tongue over his neck.

But it’s when your teeth sink into him that he breaks down.

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

Thomas pushes himself as far as he can as his release crashes into him like a tidal way, pushing you further up the bed. His groaning voice loud but choked, doing his best to swallow the sounds he makes when his cock finally fills you. The pain from the bite shooting through his body and mixing with the euphoric feeling of your walls clenching around his pulsing cock. He shivers as he feels your tongue lap over the bite mark. Somewhere inside of him, he hopes it won’t leave a mark, though right at this moment where he’s in the process of marking you as his, he doesn’t really care if it does leave a mark.

He’s shaking as he looks down at your equally exhausted form. He gives you a tired smile, an exhausted one, and leans his forehead against yours, your breathing a cold refreshing gust of air at his sweaty face. He could stay in this position his entire life. Pure bliss. But his muscles start complaining, and he hisses as he pulls himself out to collapse next to you, chuckling as you bounce slightly because of his weight dropping all at once.

Poking your cheek to get you to open your eyes, seeing as you’re well on your way to a night of deep sleep, he spells out a question;

‘U ok?’’

He lets out a sigh of relief as you nod tiredly. Even if he had just fucked every drop of energy out of both you and himself, he’s surprised to see you cuddle up into his sweaty chest. Unsure of what to do, he relaxes just a tiny bit as you laugh before taking his arms and wrapping them around yourself. It takes a while for Thomas to relax to the point of falling asleep, but as his brain is slowly registering that you’re not leaving him, and that you actually have fallen asleep in his arms, he lets sleep take him, with his face buried in your hair.

#CICU #Can I See You #modern!thomas #modern thomas fanfiction #thomas hewitt #thomas leatherface hewitt #thomas hewitt fanfiction #tcm: the beginning #tcm #tcm fanfiction #modern au

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happyandticklish · 3 years

Text

I Want To See You Smile - Part One

Notes: I decided to write something for the Gorillaz fandom, because I have fallen suddenly back into obsession over the band and needed to get it out of my system. I also would like to add that the fic holds some problematic themes concerning abuse, and that I am both aware of these themes and am working through them carefully. That being said, I hope you all enjoy!

Summary: After a fateful encounter one day, Murdoc finds himself addicted to tickling his bandmate and doesn’t know why. 2D’s adorable reactions certainly aren’t helping.

Murdoc wasn’t sure what was wrong with him. His face was flushed, his head was spinning, his heart was jackhammering wildly in his chest; all this from a chance encounter in the living room.

Maybe he was dying. He would have preferred that, honestly, to whatever the fuck this was.

He had discovered 2D’s body sprawled out lazily on their beaten up couch, gangly limbs thrown haphazard over its surface. In one of Murdoc’s hands was a bottle of something toxic he had just conjured up in the kitchen and in the other a journal in which he had planned to write either lyrics or obscene drawings in—he hadn’t quite decided which. Still, he couldn’t do either with the blue-haired idiot dozing off and claiming all the available seating space.

“Hey,” he said, slanting his eyes down in annoyance. “Dents. Move it.”

2D mumbled something indistinguishable in his sleep, but otherwise didn’t move. Murdoc frowned. He must really be out of it. Still, Murdoc had a mission and he wasn’t about to give up on it now. He leaned down, gripping his sides for a handhold as he attempted to shove him off. As he did, however, 2D shifted and squirmed under his touch, one hand unconsciously coming down to shove his hand away. Murdoc ignored him, readjusting his grip and tugging at his limp form. This time 2D let out a sleepy giggle, swatting at his hands once more.

“Stop,” he muttered incoherently. “It tickles.”

Murdoc’s eyes widened with realization. Ah. So that’s why he’d been acting so weird. He started to move his hands away, when an idea occurred to him—another way to get him to move. He smirked, keeping his hands on hips and squeezing with more purpose this time.

“C’mon 2D,” he teased in a low whisper. “I need to get on this couch.”

2D was moving more now, soft, breathy laughs echoing from his vocal chords, still not fully awake yet. If he was this ticklish asleep, Murdoc couldn’t imagine what he would be like awake. He squeezed again and again, poking and prodding at this one spot on his hips that had 2D spazzing. Finally, 2D’s eyes fluttered open and his frown of confusion quickly turned into a silly grin at the sensations dancing upon his skin.

“M-Muhuds?” he asked, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. “W-Whahat are yohou d-dohoing?”

“Getting you to move.”

“C-Cohouldn’t yohou h-hahave juhuhust ahahasked mehehe?”

“Eh. This was more fun.”

2D groaned sleepily, tired giggles slipping out unwarranted. That one spot on his hips, pursued relentlessly, was quickly becoming unbearable and his hands came down again to shove Murdoc off. Unfortunately, his grip wasn’t strong enough and he held onto Murdoc’s wrists uselessly. “Hehehe, ahaha, muhuhuds!”

“Hmm?”

“Ihihit—” 2D broke off, the tickling spiking suddenly and prompting a squeak from the man. “Ihihit tihihickles!”

“Does it now?” Murdoc teased, scratching his nails against the soft divot of skin contained there. “Well that’s quite an unfortunate situation, isn’t it?”

“Ah! Ohohohokay, ohohokay, I’ll mohohove!” 2D agreed eagerly, shoving desperately at his hands.

“Nah, I think it’s a bit too late for that now.” Murdoc hoisted a leg over him on the couch so he was no effectively straddling the other. “I’m having too much fun to stop now, and I think you need to learn your lesson about listening right away.”

“Buhuhut yohou dihihidn’t ahahask—ahaha, nohohoho, ehehe, stahahap!”

2D fell into quick hysterics as Murdoc began ruthlessly pursuing his hips now, one hand on either side. 2D scrabbled fruitlessly to shove his hands off and when that failed he resorted to frantic squirming and writhing underneath him instead. “Wow, dents,” he muttered with a sarcastic leer. “I didn’t realize you were this sensitive. I’ll have to remember this for the future.”

“Stahaha—ahaha, ehehe, nohoho! Ihihi tihihickles tohohoo muhuhuch!” 2D’s laughter soon became a breathless stream of giggles, interspersed with hiccups here and there as he fought to control his body’s reactions. As Murdoc watched him, a strange flush began to creep its way up his neck and his stomach writhed with unexplained nerves. This was different from all those times he had tormented 2D in the past. This was something new and altogether unnerving, and Murdoc didn’t like it one bit. But even as he was tempted to stop, the sight of 2D begging and laughing under him was too appealing to quit now.

“You know, I distinctly remember Noodle being veeeery ticklish here when she was younger.” Murdoc secured one of his wrists in his hands, dragging it far above his head. “I wonder if it’s the same for you.”

2D’s eyes widened and his struggling increased, giggling apprehensively as Murdoc’s fingers wiggled towards his defenseless pit.

“No, no, please, wait, no mohoHOHOHohore!”

2D shrieked when his fingers finally made contact, tugging frantically at his trapped arm. The other arm did its best to try to fend Murdoc off, but he would simply switch to a different spot until 2D moved to protect there instead; the second he did, however, Murdoc would simply move back to his underarms and the cycle would repeat once more.

Red-faced, writhing and babbling out incoherent pleas, 2D was quite a sight. Murdoc found himself so caught up in it that he hadn’t realized how intense he had gotten until 2D let out a frantic shriek and finally pulled his arm free. The sound snapped Murdoc out of his haze and he quickly rolled off the other, head spinning.

2D curled up on the couch, residual laughter spilling from his lips as he fought to regain some semblance of coherency. He gripped his torso protectively, skin tingling from the overload of sensation. “Hah… ha… ehehe… w-whahat was that?”

Murdoc had no answer, only that he needed to leave for fear of tickle jumping the poor man again. So instead he merely grunted, snatching up his alcohol and journal and stalking out the doorway, trying with everything in him to get the image of 2D in that helpless, strangely appealing state out of his head. 2D watched him go, confusion and leftover bliss swirling over his features.

Murdoc would have been happy to write that moment off as a one-off mess-up, a momentary lapse in judgement, had it not happened again after that. And again. And again. Every time he saw 2D, which was often when the band was squished together as it was, all he could think about was digging his fingers into his sides if only to hear that adorable yelp again.

His excuses were getting weaker as time went on, as well. “Wait, no, please!” 2D pleaded, noticing the fateful smirk on the other’s face as he backed him up against the wall. He had messed up some lyric or another during rehearsal, which at this point was all the justification Murdoc needed. The others looked on in confusion as 2d quickly fell into hysterics, Murdoc pinning him against the wall with his onslaught of tickling.

“Guhuhuys!” 2d cried, giggling wildly as Murdoc poked fingers rapid-fire into his sides. “Hehehelp m-mehehe!”

“Hey Murdoc, don’t you think we should leave him alone now?” Noodle asked hesitantly. “It wasn’t really his fault—we all mess up lyrics from time to time.”

“Lyrics?” Murdoc snapped, before remembering his original reasoning for the attack. “Yeah, well, this way he’ll learn not to do it again.”

Noodle frowned but otherwise did little to help him. It wasn’t until Russel placed a hand on his shoulder that Murdoc finally backed off. “We should probably get back to practice,” he said firmly, a warning note to his voice. Murdoc scoffed, releasing the other and letting 2D crumple to the ground in a trembling ball of nerves.

“Yeah, whatever,” he muttered, sitting back down and picking up the bass. “Let’s just get this damn song over with already.”

For every grievance imaginable, throughout the course of that strange and confusing month, 2D would find himself reduced to a squirming mess of limbs at the hands of none other than Murdoc Niccals—spent too long in the shower, called him a name, wasn’t fast enough when Murdoc asked him to get out of the way, finished the last of the potato crisps. Small, unpreventable things that ultimately Murdoc only cared about because it provided such ample excuse to wreck the other.

Over the course of that month, Murdoc also spent sufficient time trying to figure out the reason for his growing obsession. Each time he thought about it, however, a hot blush crept up his neck and a world of voices screamed at him inwardly what are you doing? He didn’t know. He didn’t know what it meant, nor why it was only tickling 2D in this way that made him feel like this. He hadn’t ever experienced anything like this in the past. Sure, he had teased and poked a couple of the girls and guys he’d dated in the past, but it was always quick, fleeting touches that ended almost instantly—just something to get a reaction. Now though, it was clearly something different. The sight of 2D shrieking and writhing under him made his body react in a way that was altogether different from how you would with your platonic bandmate whom you despised.

One night he got so fed up thinking about it that he decided to give up on sleep and head out to the kitchen to make himself something to take the edge off.

Who should he find but the man of the hour himself, the blue-haired bean pole, standing at the sink and pouring himself a glass of water.

As soon as he noticed Murdoc’s presence behind him 2D startled, quickly shutting off the faucet and edging away from him. “Oh hey, muds,” he greeted, that nervous, finnicky smile already taking over his features. Murdoc jammed his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t do anything.

“What are you doing up so late?” he grumbled, shoving past him and reaching for the various bottles of liquor littered over their countertop.

“Just getting a glass of water,” he replied cautiously. Murdoc simply grunted in response. Watching him cautiously, 2D continued to slink towards the doorway. He paused at the exit, however, hand on the doorframe. He curled his fingers in hesitation, before quickly whirling around to face the other once more.

“Aren’t you gonna…” 2D started before breaking off his sentence, clearly embarrassed.

Murdoc turned to face him, tossing back a glass of tequila—definitely not midnight appropriate, especially when he had to be up at the crack of dawn tomorrow for rehearsal. “Aren’t I gonna what?”

“You know…” 2D trailed off, blushing, before awkwardly wiggling his fingers a little as a demonstration.

That same, creeping red returned to his face and Murdoc stiffened. Still, he wasn’t about to let the little upstart get the upper hand, so he said, leaning back on the counter with fake confidence, “Why? Do you want me to?”

“No, but, I mean, not entirely—” 2D stopped himself, clearly thrown for a loop. “I just meant that usually you… you know, do that. Are you… not going to anymore?”

For some reason it hadn’t occurred to Murdoc that 2D would pick up on this recurring habit of his. To have it stated so bluntly was certainly a shock to his system. The two stood in that tiny kitchen, an uncomfortable energy in the air as the silence between them increased. Murdoc tongued the inside of his cheek, debating how to phrase his next sentence.

Before he could, 2D spoke up for him. “I don’t… uh, I don’t mind, that is.” He spoke cautiously, waiting for Murdoc to snap at him or throw something. When he did neither, 2d continued, “I prefer it, over the other stuff. Also it’s… it’s sort of fun, in a way.”

Murdoc slowly sat down his liquor bottle, narrowing his eyes at the other. “Are you saying you like it when I tickle you?”

2D shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “Sort of? I mean, it gets sort of intense sometimes, but even that’s, uh—” He pressed his lips together, evidently deciding that whatever he would have said next would only make the situation worse. “I liked it, yeah. Whenever you’re, you know, tickling me, I sort of get the feeling that you like doing it. Which in a way makes it feel like you enjoy spending time with me and that’s… nice.”

Murdoc stared at him. The confession was so brutally honest in a way that only 2D could ever pull off. For some reason, that made him angry. He took a couple steps forward and 2D instinctively scuttled backwards. “Listen. I don’t tickle you because I ‘like spending time with you’, or whatever it is you’re going on about. I was doing it because—” he broke off, sneering at his own verbal incompetence. The real reason, the reason why he couldn’t get the image of 2D laughing, 2D happy, out of his head for weeks on end, floated at the edges of his consciousness. He chose to ignore it, as he did most things that made him uncomfortable. “I did it because I fucking wanted to, alright? And it has nothing to do with you or any kind of bond you think we’ve built. I do what I like, and your job is to shut the fuck up and leave me be, got it?”

2D matched his intense glare, face darkening. Where before there had been fear in his face, now there was only resignation. “Yeah. Got it.”

He snatched his water off the table, nearly fumbling and dropping it. Luckily, he managed to catch it just in time, though not without some leftover embarrassment. His drink retrieved and his smooth exit ruined, he proceeded to stalk moodily out of the kitchen.

The second he was gone Murdoc exhaled shakily, all the fight going out of his limbs. He leaned back against the counter for support, slowly sinking down to the ground. The cold linoleum felt good against his bare skin, and he chose in that moment to forget about all the crumbs and grime most likely littering the floor.

He rubbed his heels against his temples, replaying the conversation over and over again in his head like some kind of broken record player. Which in a way makes it feel like you enjoy spending time with me… It was stupid. Murdoc had never cared about the other man’s opinion before.

So why did those words make him feel like crying?

#tickle fic #gorillaz #murdoc niccals #stuart pot #2D #2doc #fanfiction #fanfic #bands #noodle #russel hobbs #tickling

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satendou · 3 years

Text

⟼ song of the sewer

⍣ stardew: tilted | previous: manhunt: redux | next: to be decided | 3/?

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ pairing: tendou/reader

⇢ au: stardew!au

⇢ summary: you can find some pretty strange things in a sewer

⇥ masterlist

⇢ warnings: drug usage, dubcon ;; sex under the influence, unprotected sex with a stranger,

⇢ word count: 4473

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ a/n: look, i can explain okay--

“Do you actually, you know, know what it goes to…?” you asked Akaashi, looking at the rusty key he had just handed you. You loved Akaashi to pieces, but this seemed a poor way to repay you for filling up the museum for him.

As you expected, the answer was a resounding--

“No, I’m afraid not. The key is so old though that I figured, if you find what it goes to, you were the perfect person to have it,” Akaashi said, sounding as if it was perfectly logical.

“Right. Thanks, then,” you said, and hoped that your exasperation wasn’t as obvious as it sounded to you. “I have to get going. I’ll see you later.”

Weighing the key in your hand, you pondered all the possible things it could go to. It was too large to be a regular house key-- which would be weird-- and there was nothing in the mines that required a key.

Wait.

Groaning, you glared up at the sky, begging it not to be true.

“I swear to god if this goes to the fuckin’ sewer--”

Marching straight there, you jammed the key forcefully into the lock, shoving through whatever gunk had built up over time, partially hoping it would break off and you wouldn’t be tempted to go down.

Unfortunately, the key turned with a horrendous grinding noise, the lid coming away with an awful, sticky one. The light from your phone did little to dispel the darkness coming up the ladder so, holding your breath and praying, you stepped onto the first rung and began your descent.

Something about the darkness made it feel like you were taking hours to get down to the bottom. At some point, you realized that you could make out your fingers on the sticky metal rungs cemented into the wall. The light was sickly green, filtered thin and barely bright enough to really be called light, but at least you could see.

Hitting the cement floor with a damp slap, you took in your surroundings. You had no idea what to expect from a sewer but, as far as you could tell, it was pretty normal.

Cement walls with strange stains and moss growing on it, thick fog turned green by the strange light, the eerie sounds of water sloshing, a tall shadowy figure slowly stalking towards you, buzzing--

Wait.

“Who the--” you yelped, hopping backwards away from the bipedal figure obscured by the fog. “Who-- What--?”

“Oh, you’re actually...a person.” The voice that met your ears was surprisingly...normal, if a bit teasing for someone-- thing?-- lurking in a sewer.

You paused, looking warily around you for anything not human. “Well, I’m not sure what that means but it doesn’t sound promising.”

“Oh yeah, there’s all sorts of weird stuff down here. Mutant bugs, monsters, whatever,” the voice said, waving a hand around almost happily.

“And which category do you fall into then, sewer voice?” you asked sarcastically, resting your hands on your hips. You didn’t feel particularly threatened, but you had been tricked before. All you carried was a small dagger on you, and this particular being stood a good few inches taller than you.

“Good question. You can call me Tendou, though,” he said, and finally appeared properly in your vision. He wasn’t exactly skeletal, but he was certainly lanky, and very pale-- which was what happened when one dwelled in a sewer, you supposed. “Who are you and what are you doing down here?”

“Well, my name is _____ and I could ask you the same question,” you said, taking a few steps forward.

Tendou seemed content to let you examine him, making a small circle around him as he said, “You’re the farmer! You grow great pumpkins.”

You peered around his arm to stare up into his face, realizing his eyes were a vibrant red as you asked, “Are you the one that’s been stealing my pumpkins every year?”

Tendou giggled, a high-pitched sound that echoed off the walls before tapering off. “Maybe. Anyway, to answer your other question, I live here. Now, what’re--”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait,” you said, holding a finger up to him. You took a moment to gather your surroundings, taking in the eerie green light and almost stifling fog around you, before you continued. “You live here? What in the world for?”

Tendou peered down at you, leaning in close and widening one eye as if sizing you up before he said, “I’ll show you.”

He disappeared, giving you the moment you had been waiting for to escape, and yet your curiosity got the better of you. It wasn’t one of your better traits, you admitted, having gotten you into more trouble than you cared to recall.

Sighing, you followed him through an archway and down a short hallway to a wooden door, through which lay...a surprisingly normal looking living area-- for being in a sewer, that is.

There were a few lamps emitting a normal, warm glow, fans twirling steadily to dispel the humidity, a small cooking area, and a bed. Through another door, you heard the familiar sounds of a generator, and wondered how in the world he’d gotten that thing down here.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Tendou said, spreading his arms wide. You had to admit, it was pretty cozy, though you were comparing it to the, you know, rest of the sewer. “It’s not much, but it’s home. Now, here’s why.”

Opening yet another door, you were hit with the oh so familiar humidity, sweat immediately beading on your brow as you stepped through.

“Huh,” you said, looking around, before it hit you. “Oh, you’re the one leaving-- Oh, okay. I never would’ve guessed that-- Oh my god, this stuff is grown in the sewer.”

Sitting in multiple rows on small wooden benches were dozens of familiar looking plants, basking under ultraviolet lights hung from the ceiling.

“Yup,” Tendou said as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “I grow pot down here. It’s the easiest place to keep it hidden and it’s easier to control the humidity.” He pointed at the flaps in the technical roof of the room.

“Well it’s certainly been nice,” you said, tapping your lip as you looked around. “Were you paying for those pumpkins with weed?”

“I figured you wouldn’t mind,” Tendou said with a shrug. “It’s a fair trade, I think.”

“More than,” you agreed, turning to face him. “Never expected to meet my secret weed dealer down here. Kinda neat, I guess.”

“There are certainly worse things you could meet down here,” he said, nodding as if meeting a drug dealer living in the sewers completely normal. “Anyway, it’s been a while since I’ve had the pleasure of smoking with anyone. You interested?”

Thinking about it for a moment, you shrugged. “Sure. You got munchies?”

You weren’t sure how much time had passed after that, only that you were floating nicely in the clouds and laughing at just about everything. At some point you had kicked off your shoes and flopped down beside Tendou on his bed, talking about how you had come into possession of the key that had allowed you entrance into his domain.

“So that’s where that thing got off to. I’ve been looking for it for ages,” Tendou said, snatching the key you offered. “I mean, I have other ways to get out but it’s inconvenient, you know. Moving product through the sewers is such a hassle.” Rolling onto your side to face him, you said, “Well, there you go. You can keep it because I don’t need it.”

“Aw, you don’t wanna come visit me again?” he teased, shuffling a little closer. His eyes were half-lidded and he wore a dopey smile, clearly as stoned as you were and just as giggly. “That hurts my feelings. I thought we were friends.”

Bursting out into laughter, you covered your face with your hands, tears immediately welling in your eyes. “S-Sorry, sorry, I just-- I’m-- F-Friends with-- my w-weed dealer-- who lives-- who lives in the sewer--”

Your stomach hurt from trying to talk and laugh at the same time, breath coming in shallow gasps and wheezes, making your head spin. Tendou snorted before breaking down into high pitched giggles, kicking his legs up with his arms wrapped around his stomach.

“W-Well, when you put it like that--” he said, head tipping back as he continued to laugh.

It took you far too long to calm down, breathless with tears streaming down both your cheeks, breaking into more short fits before you finally slumped back on the bed again. The mattress shifted beside you, the worn frame creaking as he rifled around the drawer in his nightstand.

There was the flick of a lighter, and then the crackling of dried herb and paper, before another joint was shoved into your face.

“If I didn’t know any better,” you drawled around a lungful of smoke, relishing in the burn that spread through your chest, “I’d say you were planning to take advantage of me.”

“A weed dealer living in the sewer? Taking advantage of someone?” Tendou mused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Sounds fake.”

You snorted, coughing out the smoke and then coughing some more, pounding on your chest. “A-Asshole.””

Tendou cackled, taking the joint from you between two slender fingers. The smell of burning pot filled the room, pushed around by the spinning fans. It took you a moment to realize that you were essentially hotboxing his place, and snorted again.

“Is this what you do all day?” you asked as he passed it back to you. Your chest was still burning but you took a deep hit anyway, resisting the urge to immediately cough it back out. “Smoke weed and lay in bed?”

“Nah, sometimes I spy on the townspeople. You know the mayor and the general store dude are sleeping together?” he asked, watching your face closely for a reaction.

You blinked owlishly, releasing the smoke slowly and relishing in the disappointment on his face as you said, “Everyone knows that, though they like to pretend it’s still a secret. Blissful ignorance or something, I guess. What else ya got?”

Tendou hummed, an almost lecherous smile crossing his face as he plucked the joint from your fingers. “Well...I also know that you like to go skinny dipping in the secret pond.”

It took you several moments longer than necessary to process his words, staring up at him braced on his elbow.

After another few seconds you finally said, “If I were less high, that might bother me.”

Tendou quirked a brow, resting his cheek in his palm. “But since you are so high…?”

You knew what he was leading towards, and let your eyes skim down over him. For someone who dwelled in a sewer, he was remarkably clean, dressed in what looked like a new t-shirt and jeans with holes in the knees. He wasn’t unattractive, but you were also not sober, and who knew what sober you would think later.

Sober you wasn’t here right now, though, so you said, “What did you think?”

Humming thoughtfully again, he let his hand come down to rest on the strip of skin that was exposed from where your shirt had ridden up, the lit joint dangerously close to the fabric. “Can’t really recall right now. Might need to refresh my memory.”

There was a giddy sense of excitement as you pulled your shirt up and over your head, watching his eyes rake over your now exposed skin. The sheer idea that you were getting naked, even as you unclipped your bra and threw it over your shoulder, in a sewer with a total stranger made you burst out into laughter again.

“What?” Tendou asked, struggling to pull his shirt off with the joint still in his hand. His head was tangled, and you could see where he had turned his head towards you inside it.

“We’re about to fuck in a sewer,” you cackled, ignorant to the way your breasts bounced or the way his eyes took you in greedily when he had extricated himself from his shirt.

He smirked as he came to hover over you, shoving your legs apart so he could kneel between them before taking another inhale off the joint. “There’s a first time for everything,” he drawled, beckoning you to sit up. “Besides, imagine the stories you’ll be able to tell your friends.”

“If I ever told my friends about this, they wouldn’t believe me,” you said, bracing yourself up on your hands in such a way that your tits were pushed up and out.

Cupping your chin, Tendou tilted your head up before covering your lips with his, parting them and breathing out. You greedily sucked down the smoke filling your mouth before realizing his tongue had delved past your parted lips and was lapping at your own. He tasted surprisingly sweet, like he’d just eaten chocolate, and you raised a hand mindlessly to rest on his shoulder.

“No,” he said cheerfully once he pulled back, watching you expel the smoke from your lungs in a burst. “They probably wouldn’t, but I’ll make sure you have something to tell them.”

With a squeal, you landed on your back, Tendou having grabbed beneath your knees and flipped you backwards. Carefully putting out the half-smoked joint, he returned his hazy attention back to you.

You laughed as he fought with the button of your shorts, too impatient to really focus on the task. He let out a cry of triumph when he finally got it undone, tugging them and your panties down your legs victoriously, only to go through the same problem with his own pants.

“It’s not nice to laugh at people,” he said, though he was giggling as well while he fumbled with the button. “Especially not when you’re lying naked in their bed.”

“It wouldn’t be a problem,” you said, flicking it open for him before undoing the zipper, “if you would stop making me laugh. Woah.”

You had tugged his jeans and boxers down just far enough to free his cock, and your jaw dropped when it slapped against his stomach.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Above you, his brow quirked, confusion written across his face. “What?”

Glistening with precum were a row of five metal bars on the underside of his lengthy cock, a prince albert pierced through the tip. Precum beaded on the ball before rolling down, and your mouth almost watered at the sight, the urge to lick it up too tempting to resist.

Heedless of the awkward position, you leaned forwards and let your tongue glide up to the tip before taking it in, suckling lightly as you toyed with the piercing.

“Oh fuck,” he hissed, fingers immediately tangling in your hair. He barely resisted the urge to push you down further, but his hips snapped forward of their own volition. You moaned around him, gazing up at him through your lashes with your lips wrapped around part of his cock and he snapped, tugging you roughly off by your hair. “Fuckin’ hell, warn a guy next time. Move up some.”

Doing as told, you crawled further up the bed, bracing yourself on your elbows to watch his fingers dance down your thighs before locking beneath your knees.

“Didn’t expect you to be this wet,” he muttered, mostly to himself, but you flushed anyway.

“And I didn’t expect those piercings but here we are,” you responded, thighs tensing when he lifted your legs, pressing your knees towards your chest. “What’re you--”

Your head fell back, a startled yelp escaping you when Tendou flattened his tongue up your folds, parting your lips before wrapping his around your clit. Thighs tensing under his hands, you dug your fingers into his sheets when he flicked the nub with his tongue in mockery of a vibrator, making your cunt clench around nothing.

He hummed against you, watching your body convulse and toes curl through hooded eyes, unable to keep from smirking. You were already dripping down his chin, and he moved down to lap at your clenching hole before slipping his tongue in as far as it would go to feel you clench around him.

“Oh, fuck, don’t stop,” you begged, finally regaining the ability to lift your head. You locked eyes with him between your legs, sleepy red unfocused and filled with lust as he wiggled his tongue inside you. His nose was pressed against your clit, normally not enough to make you come but with your thoughts clouded, it made you squirm. Bucking your hips up, you cried out for him, wanting more.

One hand disappeared off your thigh and you quickly hooked your arm under it, pulling it even further back and spreading yourself wider for him. One slender finger slipped in and immediately crooked up, padding at the front of your wall in search of something while his lips returned to suck at your clit.

He knew he found it by the way your hips wiggled and jerked up, back locking and feet pointing towards the ceiling.

“Fuck, fuck, wait,” you wailed, walls clamping down just as a second finger joined the first, coming so hard you saw white. Your nails bit into your skin, your moans bouncing off the walls for several seconds before you finally came down, legs quivering as you set your feet back down on the bed. Panting, you looped your arms around Tendou’s shoulders when he came to hover over you, trying to get your eyes to focus on his blurry face. “That was-- holy shit.”

“Yeah? You good for one more?” he asked, laughing at the way your face lit up.

Locking your legs around his slim hips, you laughed breathlessly. “Alright, but another one might make me pass out.”

“I can work with that,” he said, lining the head of his cock up with your still twitching hole. The first thrust was slow and easy, savoring the way you clenched around him every time another piercing slipped inside you, letting you feel each one scrape against your sensitive walls.

He groaned as he finally hilted inside you, the ball at the tip of his cock nestled perfectly against your tender cervix, slick dripping down his balls onto his bedsheets. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been balls deep in anyone as responsive as you, so needy as you clung to him, begging for more even though you had just come.

“Impatient much?” he teased breathlessly, pulling back and slamming forward again before you could answer. It knocked a whiny squeal from your parted lips instead, and he grinned before his eyes alighted on the joint sitting on the nightstand. “Mind if I light up again?”

Reaching out, he plucked it from its place in the ashtray before coming up with yet another wonderful idea.

“Up you get,” he said, wrapping long fingers around your arms and pulling you up so that you were straddling his hips, cock nudging even deeper inside of you. “Now that is a gorgeous view.”

“Do you ever shut up?” you asked, trying and failing to sound aggravated as you started rolling your hips against his.

The lighter flared to life and the smell of the joint soon met your nose, Tendou taking a long drag off of it before beckoning to you. You went willingly enough, pressing your lips against his and allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth, breathing the smoke down into your lungs before sitting back up. Brushing your hair off your face, you lifted up off his cock and sank back down, breathing out slowly as he watched, almost mesmerized.

“Fuck, you really are so pretty,” he sighed, one hand resting on your thigh, kneading the flesh. “Wish you’d found that key ages ago.”

You laughed at that, the fresh buzz intensifying the feeling of pleasure coursing through you. You leaned back, bracing yourself on his knees and letting your mind blank. Tendou’s hand was warm when it came up to cup one of your bouncing tits, thumb rubbing over your hardened nipple.

“Gonna come again for me, baby?” he drawled, sounding nasally around a lungful of smoke. He switched to your other breast, pinching and pulling your nipple up and watching it jiggle when he let go. “You look so good, bouncing on my cock.”

The smoke was cool against your skin when he breathed out, causing you to shiver as you circled your hips around. His hand smoothed higher up your thigh, thumb grazing your slippery clit, petting it in lazy circles to feel you spasm around him.

Looking back down at him, you plucked the joint from where it was resting lazily between his fingers, taking a short drag off of it before handing it back to him. Breathing it out slowly, you moaned, grinding down to feel the ball piercing the tip of his cock nudge the sweet spot inside you. “God, your cock feels so good, Tendou,” you breathed, letting yourself fall forward against his chest.

Wrapping your hands around his headboard, you bounced as fast as your muscles would let you, thighs burning as your eyes closed to focus on nothing but the slide and stretch of his cock inside you. His free hand cupped your ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh as his head thumped against the headboard.

“Fuck, don’t stop, sweetheart,” he moaned, jerking his hips up to meet yours, filling the small room with the wet slap of skin on skin. “Come for me, come for me, come on.”

He haphazardly took a hit off the joint before meeting your lips in a sloppy, open mouth kiss, swallowing your moans as you neared your high.

“I can’t,” you whined, your legs finally giving out. You collapsed against him, the euphoric feeling fading away so fast it made you want to cry before you found your world spinning.

Your back hit the bed with a thump, one of your knees pinned against Tendou’s shoulder by the hand with the joint in it, the other spread wide with a hand under your knee. His cock slammed into you, hips pistoning as fast as he could manage, eyes closed and head tipped back.

You chanted his name like a prayer, tangling your fingers in your hair and cupping your tit, plucking your swollen nipple as he drove you right back up to the edge. His thrusts were sloppy, the wet sounds of your pussy sucking him back in mixing with his grunts, piercing nudging against the swollen nerves inside you without really aiming.

You wiggled beneath him, circling your hips up to meet his and grinding your clit against the curls at his base until the coil snapped, your vision washing in white.

Your breath caught in your throat before spilling out in a litany of moans, his thrusts slowing down until he was slowly pounding into your twitching walls.

“God dammit,” he snarled, pulling out of you and wrapping his hand around his cock, working it up and down in quick, jerky strokes until he spilled all over your twitching stomach. He flopped down onto the bed beside you, chest heaving with laughter. “God, that was so good. I’ll get you a cloth in a minute.”

You laughed breathlessly beside him, legs still trembling slightly, your eyes closed. “Take your time. Definitely not goin’ anywhere for a while.”

“My plan worked then,” he teased, frowning when he tried to take a hit off the joint only to find it had gone out. “Hand me the lighter, would you?”

Reaching out blindly, you felt around until your fingers landed on it.

“Y’know,” you drawled, opening your eyes when he nudged you, taking the offered joint, “I wouldn’t say no to this again.”

He barked out a laugh, the sound thick around the lungful of smoke he was holding. “Yeah, me either. Maybe I should make a copy of that key.”

Chuckling, you said, “I think it’s a bit early in the relationship for that. Also, we’re doing this at my place next time.”

He feigned hurt, placing his clean hand over his heart. “I didn’t hear you complaining just a few minutes ago.”

The bed creaked as he then sat up, and you turned your head to watch him stand. The well defined muscles in his back rippled as he stretched before moving across the room to pull something out of a drawer.

He tossed a cloth onto your stomach before moving around to gather up your clothes, setting them in a pile on the bed beside you.

“Not that the sewer isn’t a lovely place, but I’m not sure how I would explain why I’m crawling in and out of it all the time,” you said, giving him a pointed look as you cleaned up the mess on your stomach. “Though I guess that would be one way to prove I really am fucking the drug dealer that lives down here.”

“Now, I don’t want them to think you’re a liar,” Tendou said, not quite joking now, “but it would probably be better if they didn’t know what was down here.”

“Just another reason for you to come to my place,” you said cheerfully, and Tendou realized he’d been had.

“Crafty little-- Alright, you win. We’ll fuck at your place next time,” he said, and watched your face turn red with a laugh.

Checking your phone, you dressed quickly, realizing it was much later than expected and you had yet to put up and feed the animals, or yourself. “Sorry to rush, but I have chores to finish.”

He nodded, standing up to follow you towards the door.

Not realizing he was behind you, you turned, ready to say goodbye only to slam into his chest. His arms came up around you, smiling lazily at your startled face before leaning down to cover your lips with his. They parted instantly, tongue grazing across his top lip before meeting his.

Your lungs burned with a need for oxygen, but you were hesitant to pull away, clinging to him needily until he laughed.

“I’ll come around tomorrow, maybe? Can see what farm life is really like. You have a hayloft?” he asked, and your eyes narrowed as you nodded.

“Why?”

“Well isn’t it like, tradition to have sex at least once--”

You smacked him on the arm, head tipping back so you could laugh in exasperation. “Stop thinking with your dick. I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

“Right,” he said, watching you go with a half-smile. He waited until you had disappeared in the dark before bursting out into laughter.

What a strange, wonderful day it had turned out to be.

⇥ masterlist

⍣ stardew: tilted | previous: manhunt: redux | next: to be decided

#tendou x reader #tendou satori x reader #satori tendou x reader #tw dubcon #tw dubcon ;; drugs #.tiltedseries

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tlcwrites · 3 years

Text

Little Things

Summary:

“Maybe this is cosmic payback for all the shit he’s done in his life. Maybe this is the galaxy reminding him that he doesn't get to fight a war, have unmeasurable blood on his hands, and get to live happily ever after.”

Word Count: 2058

Tags/Warnings: Poe Dameron/Female Reader, SFW, pregnancy, traumatic labor/childbirth experience, preterm labor, Dad!Poe, pre-eclampsia, premature birth, NICU warning, a big fucking pile of angst.

Author’s Note:

So, @paper-in-ashes-fanfiction changed her avatar recently (see below). A normal person would have gone “Aww, what a nice picture of Oscar.” Me being me, went... well, let’s just say the reaction resulted in this 2,000 word angst-fest you’re about to torture yourself with read.

Even though it wasn’t my intention when I started, writing this was pretty cathartic for me. I (evidently) still had some trauma from the preterm labor and birth of my twins that I needed to work through. Which leads me to this:

I cannot emphasize enough, this work deals with preterm labor, premature birth, and traumatic labor/childbirth circumstances. PLEASE do not read if it will be triggering for you. I have been there. I do not want to put you there. Okay?

If you’re still with me, I sincerely apologize for torturing poor Poe like this hope you don’t murder me after you’re done enjoy.

(Continues in the same universe as Worth It.)

When Beka was born, Poe was stunned by the brutality of childbirth. Yeah, childbirth is a miracle and biology is fucking amazing. But it’s also brutal and bloody and terrifying and it’s one of the only times he’s ever seen you cry in the entire time he’s known you, and the two of you have lived through a war together.

He’d never felt as useless as he did then, watching you labor to bring his child into the galaxy. His fierce, strong wife; he’s known you are a badass ever since the very first time he’d met you, when he’d walked into the training facility to see you flip Finn backwards with one strike like it was nothing. But after witnessing you give birth to his child- you’re his warrior queen.

It’s not until Leila’s born that he realizes how easy Beka’s birth actually was in comparison.

You’d gotten very lucky; both your pregnancies had been relatively easy. It’s still several weeks until your due-date with Leila that you start to feel ‘off’, as you describe it to Poe. He’s concerned (“overbearing and overprotective” is how you phrase it), but you ask him to trust you to know your own body. He’s never carried a child, and you have. So he redoubles his efforts to make you as comfortable as possible, even recruiting BB-8 and Beka, in all her three-year-old energy, to help keep an eye on you.

The first sign is the nausea returning. Then the back pain. Then the headaches. By the time your hands and feet start to swell, you’ve settled Beka with Kes and are on your way to the hospital. You grip Poe’s hand tightly. It’s far too soon and you both know it.

Poe hovers anxiously as the medical droid takes your vitals, the doctor explaining what you’ve already suspected. Your blood pressure is skyrocketing, and they have to deliver the baby now or both of you will be at risk. Poe’s face is ashen as they prep you for surgery. You try to smile reassuringly at him, but you’re shaking so hard it’s not convincing.

They make Poe change into scrubs. He feels ridiculous with the bonnet covering his curls. He can tell you’re trying to force your laugh to sound sincere. He has to hold you steady as the droid administers the spinal block. You’re both glad that you at least get to stay awake during the procedure.

It’s barely a few minutes after the doctor starts before Leila is out. Poe hardly gets a glimpse of her before the doctor instructs the nurse droid to get her in the incubator and on breath support immediately. You grip his hand and tell him to go with the baby.

He presses a kiss to your forehead. “You sure?”

You nod. He knows you want him to pretend he doesn’t see your tears.

He squeezes your hand and then follows the droid out of the room.

The doctor in the neonatal intensive care unit explains what each tube and wire is for- feeding, breathing, monitoring her little heart, so many- but Poe is hardly listening. She’s so small.

“It’s really her lungs and her ability to feed that we’re most concerned about,” the doctor is saying. “Currently, she’s not capable of doing either on her own.”

Poe presses a hand against the cover of the incubator. She’s such a little thing. Her body is practically the size of his hand. “How long will it be before she’s okay to come home?” When the doctor doesn’t respond immediately, he glances at her. “Doc?”

She looks supremely uncomfortable. “Mr. Dameron- every child is different, and milestones don’t have specific timetables...“

It takes a moment for the implication to sink in. There are no guarantees here.

Poe has never felt so helpless.

He watches Leila. Tiny, so tiny. Her namesake was tiny too, he reminds himself. And look at all she did.

The doctor is talking again, something about those milestones she’ll need to meet and how they go about helping her reach them, but she might as well be speaking Huttese for all he’s comprehending. It’s okay. He knows you’ll want to hear all of this, too, so he’ll ask them to repeat it once you’re stitched up.

Kriff, you’re still alone in the OR. He thanks the doctor, and with a last look at his tiny warrior princess, he heads back to the surgery wing.

When he reaches the hallway that leads to the OR, a burly nurse is waiting in front of the entrance to the operating theater. “Ah, Mr. Dameron. We need you to wait here.”

“What’s happened?” He tries to see around the nurse but he’s still blocking the doors. “Where’s my wife?”

“Mr. Dameron-”

He has to stop himself from shoving past the man. “What is happening and where is my wife?”

The nurse hesitates, and it’s enough.

Something has gone very, very wrong.

“The doctor will be out in a moment, Mr. Dameron, please, if you’ll just-”

Poe does shove past the man then. He doesn’t make it very far, of course, since the nurse is twice his size and quickly grabs him, but he gets close enough to see through the window set into the doors. He has a perfect view of you, still on the operating table. He has a perfect view of the doctor, administering chest compressions. He has a perfect view of the defibrillator droid. He has a perfect view as your body jolts from the current running through it as they try to restart your heart. He has a perfect view of the monitor that still displays an irregular, not-at-all normal heartbeat.

Then the nurse is dragging him away, and someone is screaming, and a second person, maybe a security guard, who knows, is helping pull him down the hallway away from the doors. And he realizes he’s the one screaming, and someone is urging him into a chair, and he misses the chair and drops to his knees, his forehead touching the floor. There’s a hand on his shoulder, and a voice telling him there were complications, that it’s going to be okay, but how can anything be okay because you weren’t moving and his child is fighting for her life and what the flying FUCK could possibly be okay about any of what is happening.

He grips his hair, not feeling the pain on his scalp, not feeling the tiles under his knees, not hearing anything else the nurse says. He can’t hear anything but static. He can’t see anything but you. Unmoving. Then Leila, hooked up to tubes. Two thirds of his world, fighting for their lives in the space of an hour. He vaguely wonders if this is what going insane feels like.

Maybe this is cosmic payback for all the shit he’s done in his life. Maybe this is the galaxy reminding him that he doesn't get to fight a war, have unmeasurable blood on his hands, and get to live happily ever after. Maybe this is what happens to cocky assholes who marry out of their league and who dare to think for half a second that maybe, even after everything, that life might look kindly on them. Who the fuck is he, to think he’d get the love and the family his parents had? What’s that old adage, an eye for an eye? Fuck. FUCK.

He thinks he must have passed out, or maybe he just hopes he did. His cheek is pressed against the floor. He heaves himself back to his knees, scrubbing a hand down his face. It comes away wet.

“Mr. Dameron?”

The doctor stands in the doorway. Poe vaguely recognizes that he’s got blood on his scrubs. Your blood. He wants to throw up.

“Mr. Dameron, your wife. She’s stable.”

Poe forgets how to breathe.

The doctor is helping the nurse lift him off the floor. “She’s stable, sir,” he says again.

His knees aren’t working right, and he sits heavily on the chair someone has thoughtfully shoved behind him. “She- she’s okay?”

The doctor smiles now. “Yes, Mr. Dameron. She’s going to be okay.”

The tears, this time of relief, stream down his cheeks. He doesn’t wipe them away.

Several weeks later, Poe leans against the doorway of your bedroom. You’re in the bed, both of your girls sprawled out with you, Leila on your chest and Beka curled up under your arm. All three of you are asleep. He can’t stop beaming at you all.

His pop calls a soft ‘good night’ from down the hall, and Poe answers with a nod. Kes had been the lifeline Poe needed as you and Leila both recovered from her birth, already so many weeks ago it feels both like a lifetime and like yesterday. He can’t think about how close he came to losing both of you. Maybe someday. He’s sure you and he will both have some things to work through. But for right now, enjoying his family is the only thing on his agenda.

He had come to take Beka back to her own bed, but snuggles with his family sound like a better plan. His smile widens as Beka yawns one of those precious toddler yawns. Gently, he slides onto the bed next to you, carefully shifting the elder Dameron daughter off of your arm, smoothing a hand over her tousled curls. She snuggles into his chest as he presses a kiss to her cheek. “Love you, sweetheart.”

She sighs contentedly as she burrows further into him. “‘luff you, Daddy.”

You rouse, blinking languidly at him. It’s adorable and stars, he’s never taking anything as mundane as your yawns for granted again. “What time is it?”

“Late.” He props his head on one hand, gently stroking the other down Leila’s still-impossibly small cheek as he smiles at you. “How’re you feeling?”

“Fine.” You return his smile drowsily. “You look happy.”

His chuckle is soft. “Happy’s one word for it.” He moves his hand from Leila to your hair, twisting a strand around his finger. “Feelin’ like the luckiest asshole in the galaxy is another.”

“Language,” you admonish without any real venom, leaning into his caress.

On your chest, Leila whimpers. Ten weeks ago, when he first (finally) held her, Poe had struggled to believe the doctor that there would come a time when she’d breathe on her own, let alone have a set of pipes that could- and would- send BB-8 racing for cover. But she does. His little miracle, amazing, warrior princess is healthy, whole, and, based on how she’s rooting around your chest, very hungry.

As you drowsily help her latch to your breast, Poe watches, beaming as Leila starts to nurse. Witnessing you feed your children will always rank in the top five of the most intimate moments you’ve shared together.

Almost as if you feel his gaze, you glance up, smiling sleepily at him. “Credit for your thoughts.”

He shakes his head slightly, a grey-peppered curl falling errantly across his forehead. “Just still in awe.” He glances down at Beka (snoring slightly, just like her daddy), his grin widening as he looks back to you. “In awe and so, so in love.”

You reach out and brush his curls back. “Love you too, handsome.”

If almost losing you and Leila taught him anything, it’s to cherish each and every caress, kiss, smile, and toddler yawn. After all, he reasons, catching your hand and pressing a kiss to your palm, it’s the little things that make up a life. Right? The big moments are wonderful, sure. But life is lived in the details. They’re not glamorous or noteworthy. How many times has he kissed your hand just like this over the course of your relationship, and thought nothing of it?

No more living without intention. Not for him.

Beka mumbles in her sleep. He pulls her closer as you yawn again, curling into his other side as Leila continues to feed. He wraps his arm around your shoulders and leans back against the headboard with a contented sigh.

The birth of a child is momentous. But birth simply marks the start of a life. And the life to be lived- he looks at his life, gathered here, in his arms, and smiles- that’s where it’s at.

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron #poe dameron fic #poe dameron x female reader #poe dameron imagine #my writing #angst #poe dameron angst #seriously so much angst #pregnancy #childbirth #dad!poe #dad poe dameron #dameron family #please don't kill me

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chalkrevelations · 3 years

Text

SO, Episode 28 of Word of Honor was a roller-coaster ride.

(Spoilers, as ever, so scroll away and come back later if you want to see it unspoiled.)

They managed two entirely separate scenes in this one that had me going “Did … did that just happen? Is this really happening?” Let’s get this one out of the way first: The scene of Zhao Jing in his serial killer lair with the altar and memorial tablets and his serial killer trophies. Y’all. I swear, scene opens with a shot from behind of drunk Awful Yifu in his Fantasy Ancient China underwear staggering through a set of doors into a room with candles and draperies, and before I was able to register the rest of the set design, my brain gave a terrified squeak and started rabbiting around like, “Oh my god, please do not let this be Xie’er’s bedroom. Oh my god, they wouldn’t actually go there, not even hinted, surely that would be too far!” Then my eyeballs caught up and registered the set, so I thought I was safe, but that didn’t even turn out to be the moment in the scene that had me going “Is this really happening?” (Although I do think the fact my brain immediately jumped to that scenario speaks to the creepy vibe the show has managed to build between Awful Yifu and Xie Wang). So, Zhao Jing is a sloppy drunk and absolutely shitfaced, stumbling around and yelling at his dead brothers, and I’m sitting here watching him, feeling like I need a shower, with my skin a little bit trying to crawl off my body, and then he picks up Rong Xuan’s memorial tablet and pours an entire stream of alcohol out of the pitcher all over it, and I say, out loud, to the screen, “Oh my god, they just had him figuratively piss on that tablet.” Only, no, they didn’t, because there was no need to have him do it figuratively because then, he literally whips it out of his pants and takes a piss on the tablet, complete with sound effects, and I’m open-mouthed, thinking “Is this really happening?” As some background, I grew up in mainstream U.S. culture where ancestor veneration isn’t formally practiced - although it isn’t an entirely absent part of our cultural mythos, it’s just that now when I when I offer cultus to the Patres Patriae, it’s deliberate and intentional – but I’ve been doing ancestor work in my particular flavor of polytheism for long enough, and intensely enough, that I had a visceral reaction of disgust and horror to this. Hand literally clapped over my mouth in shock, even after watching all of his ranting at his dead brothers and spitting at his dead shifu and just generally being a disrespectful asshole with delusions of grandeur building up to it. So, yes, show, you have indeed convinced me that Awful Yifu is the worst, even in an episode that also devoted that much screentime to Prince Jin.

Fortunately, the other “Is this really happening?” moment was at the other end of the spectrum, somewhere in the face of how married Zhou Zishu and Wen Kexing are, which I cannot believe passed censorship. I know I keep saying that, but every time I think I’ve adjusted to how far they’re going to go, the show laughs gay-ly as it pushes the envelope another mile down the road. Truly, this show is the gift that keeps on giving where these two are concerned, and not just because of Zhang Zhehan’s face. I realize I had to spend 50 episodes deciphering Lan Wangji’s smallest microexpression (not that I’m complaining), but I can’t believe how expressive both Zhang Zhehan and Gong Jun are in these roles, with Gong Jun’s little sadness eyebrows when WKX wants ZZS to humor him, and how soft Zhang Zhehan’s face gets when ZZS looks at WKX, and how great they both are at making all this look like a pair of adults who are in an established relationship and confident of each other. I’d be as weak as Wen Kexing if Zhou Zishu pouted at me the way he does when he tells Chengling that he can’t do anything to help decorate the Manor except observe and direct because he’s oh, so injured and frail, poor him. Wen Kexing can laugh at Zhou Zishu when ZZS pokes at him by saying the papercrafter was such a beauty! (Compare this to his reaction back in the day, when ZZS deftly manipulated him out of bringing A-Xiang along on their honeymoon adventures by calling her a beauty and implying she might draw attention away from WKX!) Wen Kexing waves kitchen knives at Zhou Zishu in (somewhat fond) exasperation! Zhou Zishu now accepts Wen Kexing piling his plate with food at the table as perfectly normal! There’s no crying in Spring Festival! They send their kid outside to watch the fireworks so they can have sex some alone time! (Merciless killers. How the fuck so adorable?) Someone must have backed up an entire truckful of money to the house of someone very important to get this aired, because what is the heterosexual explanation for … any of this?

Other thoughts:

We continue to get small things that maintain the parallels between Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishou and Gu Xiang/Cao Weining, including the mirrored theme of finding a home with a welcoming family, shown through family dinner, and expressed through WKX’s description of his former self as a “lonely ghost,” echoing A-Xiang’s self-description (to Shen Shen in an earlier ep) the same way.

HAN YING! Listen, I am stupidly attached to this bit player, and not just because he’s a familiar face (because half of Wen Xu’s screentime in The Untamed was just a disembodied head hanging at the entrance to the Unclean Realm, so it’s not like there was time to get … attached). And I say stupidly attached because ever since we first saw the way he looked at ZZS with big puppy heart-eyes, I knew he was going to be a goner. I just know they’re gonna fridge him for the next step in ZZS’s journey, because something has to pry ZZS out of Four Seasons Manor, as much as I, personally, would like nothing better than to see 8 more episodes of wedded bliss for two gay dads and their son. (OK, one thing I would like better would be if their daughter and son-in-law came to live with them, too.) At least it looks like Han Ying will get to die taking a figurative bullet for ZZS, which will make him happy and might prevent him from finding out the Glazed Armor he’s so proud of bringing is actually pointless, because don’t think that didn’t hurt to know while I watched him being so proud of managing to get his hands on it. But I’d prefer he didn’t die at all, show. Also, why on earth are there only two (completed) stories under the ZZS/Han Ying label on AO3? Because yes, I have looked. I have the search open in another tab right now. Why haven’t more people taken advantage of this guy’s utter devotion for ZZS? How are people looking at the way Han Ying reverently brushes his fingers over the single white blossom on the wall mural in ZZS’s rooms back in Prince Jin’s palace and not falling all over that?

Xie’er, oh, Xie’er. You’re killing me, here. I need someone to rescue you, you desperate affection-starved little sociopath. So, to recap, last time we met, your Awful Yifu finally let it slip that he was never ever going to acknowledge your existence in public. So now, you’re being a very clever boy, setting up a scheme to manipulate him into having to publicly acknowledge you if he’s going to claim credit for your successes (because I’m sure you can’t even contemplate failure) in service to Prince Jin. So clever, but I hate to tell you, you’re clever at everything except learning from your mistakes when it comes to your Awful Yifu. You really learned nothing from Beauty Ghost, did you? Ugh, your sad little face as you watch your hot mess of an Awful Yifu while you wait for the maids to make tea – it hurts me. Please tell me you’re playing some kind of long game, and you’re just a really great actor. Because he’s sloppy drunk, and right now, watching your face journey, I think maybe you think that makes what he’s saying true – that he’s not guarding his words, and he means it when he tells you that of course he loves you and would never leave you. “Are you still angry with me?” Awful Yifu literally asks. “Alright, I’ll apologize. I was just mad. It didn’t mean anything. We’re together in this. I’ll always stand by you.” Xie’er, you have got to stop believing gaslighting abusive men who shovel that BS. This is what they call the honeymoon period in the cycle of abuse. Seriously. This is textbook. Please stop making the same mistakes over and over again. Maybe think about the fact that your Awful Yifu is, single-handedly, the reason the Department of the Unfaithful actually exists in the first place. He is THAT AWFUL. I would like to think actually seeing his serial killer trophy room will make a difference, now that you have some confirmation of what Tragicomic Ghost told you and not the ability to wave it off as part of some he-said, she-said situation where how could we ever possibly know the truth, despite the fact that Zhao Jing has shown he’ll stab anyone in the back in his quest for power? But, then, I also thought maybe learning last ep that he never planned to publicly acknowledge you would make some kind of difference. Are you going to roll the dice again, gambler? Because I’ll tell you right now, the house always wins. (Not that you’d listen to me anymore than you listened to Beauty Ghost.)

(Also, wait wait waitwaitwait. Waitaminit. This is pure speculation and probably way too out there to be true (oh, but, someone’s going to write this AU for me, right?) Hot-mess drunk yifu tells Xie’er that they’ve been depending on each other “ever since I picked you up and brought you back home.” I can’t remember if we know anything about Xie Wang’s background at this point, but it does sound like Zhao Jing might have literally yoinked him off the street to raise him. He … he doesn’t think Xie’er is actually Yan’er, does he? Only he kidnapped the wrong orphaned urchin by mistake? I’m just sayin’, thinking back to Shen Shen’s reaction to finding out Zhen Yan was still alive, it would be exactly the kind of thing Zhao Jing would do, to keep this kid that his brother(s) wanted to find hidden right under their noses.)

Chengling and the chicken. I can’t, y’all. And Zhou Zishu’s face as soon as he realizes what Wen Kexing is telling Chengling to do – he knows this is going to be a show.

Prince Jin, you are almost as bad as Xie’r and his awful Yifu combined:

Prince Jin: Zhou Zishu, you mastermind, your super-secret spy network continues to spread everywhere, including into my very own palace. Oh, the things you must be plotting against me!

Zhou Zishu, chillin’ at Plum Blossom Manor, day-drinking, dressing up in pretty festive robes, taking advantage of his disciple’s unpaid labor so he doesn’t have to raise a finger for himself, and providing his husband with sex so incredible he is never required to actually cook: “OK, my gay husband and our son-with-two-dads, how about we just stay here together forever and be happy?”

Also Prince Jin: *Creeps on Zhou Zishu like a gaslighting m’fker*

Anyway, if Prince Jin always knew what Han Ying was up to all along, is the letter about ZZS’s father a plant, with false info? It was just kind of suspiciously hanging out in the open on Prince Jin’s desk.

#zhao jing #xie wang #zhou zishu #wen kexing #gu xiang #cao weining #zhang chengling #han ying #prince jin #word of honor #word of honor episode reax

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bedlamsbard · 3 years

Text

All right, reactions to Mando 2.05, “The Jedi”, in...semi-coherent form. Spoilers, obvs. I hated this episode, so keep scrolling now if you don’t want to see negativity. This is not in any kind of order except stream-of-conscious.

again, I reiterate, spoilers.

again, I reiterate, this is REALLY negative.

Rosario Dawson...yikes.

how...did Bo-Katan know that Ahsoka was on Corvus? are they in contact? since when? Ahsoka seems to have been on Corvus for long enough to be a nuisance to the Magistrate (Morgan Elsbeth), but normally Ahsoka is very efficient and she just...really does not seem to be here? I did not get the impression she was planning on sticking around for any period of time.

(the same could be true for Frog Lady and Bo-Katan on Trask several episodes back. that wasn’t a convert, that was three Mandalorians hanging around the port in cloaks. I guess they could be doing that on the regular, but? would the Empire not then be more worried about being attacked by Mandalorians?)

there was only ever a very, very slim chance that I was going to be happy with any translation of Ahsoka from animation to live action. I am on record as thinking that animation is the medium for Star Wars and that live action is always going to be a weaker medium than animation and that a lot of things that can be done in animation just cannot be translated to live action in any meaningful form. I knew Ahsoka’s fighting style couldn’t translate to live action convincingly (here’s what I said about the mo-capped duel in TCW); it never occurred to me that they couldn’t pull off TOGRUTA given that Shaak Ti, you know, exists, and also there are so many excellent Ahsoka cosplayers.

(Consider KM Creations’ excellent silicone lekku (S7), which have beautiful movement; the cosplayer behind that is CallMeSnips and her epilogue prototype is from SWCC is in there somewhere. I think Rei Kennex’s are latex (you can tell they don’t have much movement) but at least they’re the right length. I think Ahsoka94′s are also latex (again with the movement); this is her Mortis vision grown-up Ahsoka.)

AND YES, THE LEKKU/MONTRALS WERE A DEAL-BREAKER FOR ME.

I feel very “you have made your bed and now you have to die in it” about that -- apparently the reasoning is for stunts and movement, but for me here’s the thing: her lekku length wasn’t optional. This is not the equivalent of changing a hair style, which some people seem to think (believe me, I have read so many hot takes); this is like...I’m trying to think of a good comparison. Like putting Peter Mayhew or Joonas Suotamo in a wig because Chewie’s head was too hard for the actor to see out of, or giving them normal human hands because they can’t grip with the Wookiee hands.

Also your main character wears a helmet at all times that (if it’s anything like my Mandalorian helmet) is pretty poor visibility and full body armor and THIS was your breaking point for stunts?

Ahsoka’s lekku and montrals grow as she ages. These are about S7 length; as @reena-jenkins put it, THEY DE-AGED HER HEAD. Ahsoka fans coming in know this. PEOPLE SAW THE REBELS EPILOGUE.

I wonder how many of the people being self-righteous about being totally fine about Ahsoka’s lekku are the same people who claim that Katee Sackhoff is too young to play Bo-Katan.

this also puts them in a weird position in regards to the inevitable merchandise: do they go with normal Ahsoka from TCW and Rebels, the one everyone is familiar with, or do they go with these stunted lekku?

(I can’t believe they’re going to make Her Universe sell merch with this Ahsoka on it. it’s not going to happen but I wish HU was going to be petty enough to not sell any nu!Ahsoka merch.)

Here is some nice art of how Ahsoka’s lekku and montral should have looked.

hoo boy were those prosthetics also just Bad.

“but the stunts” buddy I’m sure Pedro Pascal and his various stunt doubles aren’t having a great time in full armor with almost no visibility either

if you’re going to put the character in, do it right

YOU CAN’T CHEAT

look, I am really, really aural -- the best example I can give is that even though intellectually I know that Matt Lanter and Hayden Christensen both play Anakin Skywalker, I literally cannot parse them as both being the same Anakin Skywalker and for that reason TCW and the PT don’t exist for the same continuity for me. (This also goes for Ewan McGregor and James Arnold Taylor, Natalie Portman and Cat Taber, and Samuel L. Jackson and TC Carson. I can kinda cope with the multiple Palpatine VAs. Yes, the decision to use Hayden and Sam in Ahsoka’s vision in “Shattered,” even blending into Matt’s voice from Hayden’s, threw me so badly I couldn’t take the vision seriously.) Ashley Eckstein has a very distinctive voice, and moreover has been the only person to ever voice Ahsoka up to this point (even in the Ahsoka novel audiobook). Barring a MIRACLE I was never going to be able to parse another actress’s voice as Ahsoka’s, solely because of how my brain works.

I could probably have parsed someone else’s face because animated Ahsoka is pretty stylized but the voice thing is a huge problem for me because of how aural I am.

(I say this but when Squadrons did a more live action-style Hera -- knowing they mo-capped Vanessa Marshall I think they used Vanessa’s face for Hera’s, which is also what it looks like on the revised art and face sculpt for the Black Series Hera -- I kind of had a meltdown about it (for...weird reasons). And that was the same VA.)

(The timeskip between TCW and Rogue One, then Rebels, probably saved Saw Gerrera for me here, but he was also never a main character.)

can you believe that Sam Witwer’s Maul got more live action respect than Ashley Eckstein’s Ahsoka

I love Sam’s Maul but wow

this is particularly jarring because Dave Filoni and Ashley Eckstein always seemed like they were friends? I realize that this gets skewed by how little of their actual lives we see online, but that is the vibe that I’ve gotten from interviews and social media posts.

can you believe that TROS gave more respect to Ashley Eckstein’s Ahsoka than Dave Filoni’s Mando episode did (here is her statement on TROS.)

back in March, when the Dawson casting rumors first dropped (or leaked, as the case may be), Ashley posted a statement about it saying that she was not involved in The Mandalorian. she has over the years been very vocal about desperately wanting to play live-action Ahsoka, who is a character solely associated with her up until today, and honestly this just breaks my heart.

I am not the massive Ashley Eckstein fan that many Ahsoka fans are, but I have never heard anything bad about her (I saw her at my hotel at SWCC while I was waiting for my roommate to arrive! that’s the closest I’ve ever gotten to her, a distance of about six feet), and I really desperately hope that someone told her about this beforehand and she didn’t find out from watching the episode.

Also, while I’m here talking about Ashley Eckstein, the characterization here was extremely off, in that specific way that happens when a writer/director is working with their absolute favorite character, DAVE FILONI. I do trust Ashley to course-correct Dave on Ahsoka (in the same way we’ve heard about Sam Witwer pushing back on people about Maul), and that...was not happening here. (I think Katee Sachoff said something similar to this about Bo-Katan in her interview last week, as well.)

how did you get Bo-Katan so right and Ahsoka so wrong

look, Dave Filoni is truly living up to George Lucas’s legacy in that he can story tell pretty well but he’s not actually that great at nitty-gritty of writing and directing. (none of the really good TCW episodes are his.)

this episode made me think of A Friend in Need (which he directed) which is not, like, a BAD episode but quite notoriously includes the Bo-Katan ass-slap and also Ahsoka beheading four Mandalorians at once.

it also includes a helpless village of oppressed and exploited Asian-coded civilians who are there mostly as background scenery so the bad guys can be bad and the heroes can feel righteous

I’ll come back to that one

the level of violence in this episode was...weird. honestly, too high? in a way that probably would not have registered if it was anyone but Ahsoka. look, I am an animated shows person. I know TCW and Rebels inside and out. I know that neither one is particularly shy about killing off faceless bad guys (though if you watch Rebels S1 compared to Rebels S4 they really dial back the amount of fatal violence the main characters commit in the last season, lol). But this felt off for Ahsoka in a way I can’t really articulate.

why is Ahsoka attacking a random Mandalorian (her allies are Mandalorians!) who is walking through the woods WITH A BABY? WITHOUT WARNING?

part of that is just her movement -- when they animated her for TCW back in 2008, they made a deliberate decision to give her mannerisms and movement and a fighting style that a human can’t do because she isn’t human and animation can do that. which means that they hobbled themselves when they came to translating her to live action because uh a human can’t do that.

something about her lightsaber blades looked really, really wrong and I can’t put my finger on what. it’s like they just used the illuminated blades of the stunt sabers but didn’t do the extra CGI that the films do? I don’t know.

Ahsoka did a LOT of dramatic posing and what WAS that?

Dave can’t direct live action, that’s what that was

since when can you canonically convey that much information mind to mind

are Ahsoka and Grogu a dyad in the Force (I know the answer is no but also: what? what was happening?)

the only people we’ve seen who can do that sort of thing are Quinlan Vos and Cal Kestis, who both have the rare talent for telemetry, and even that’s not mind to mind communication, that’s touching a thing and going “YIKES”

you are telling me that Ahsoka Tano, whom six months ago we saw take on Darth Maul, a whole barrage of Mandalorian warriors, and her entire clone trooper battalion and walk away without a scratch, had to work up a sweat fighting one woman with a spear

you do know that we all saw TCW and Rebels right

and here’s the problem! this episode makes zero sense if you HAVE seen TCW and Rebels because (1) she doesn’t look right (2) she doesn’t fight right (3) timelines? we’ve never heard of them? (4) is Thrawn back? did you find the Chimaera? (you all do remember that Ezra and Thrawn aren’t out there alone and are in fact with a 40,000 man crewed star destroyer right) (5) did you NOT find them? (6) are you even looking? (7) this is supposed to be AFTER the Rebels epilogue unless you’ve decided to take advantage of that specific ending scene not being super specifically dated and if it’s before IT MAKES IT EVEN WORSE! because I desperately hate that epilogue and its implications EVEN AS IT IS! (8) why would you call this episode “The Jedi” when since 2013 Ahsoka’s whole thing has been not being a Jedi

to be fair I’m pretty sure S7 tried very hard to course correct that but unfortunately, they could not because the rest of canon exists

are you still trying to deny me grown Ahsoka and Rex when we know you got Temuera back for a five second shot of Boba

to be fair I would have the same aural problems with Temuera voicing Rex because that’s Dee Bradley Baker as far as I’m concerned (I reiterate that this is because of how my brain process character and sound, not anythign else)

if you haven’t seen TCW and Rebels this is a random Jedi wandering around for no specific reason namedropping a completely random person who has no prior significance unless it’s going to turn up later

this entire show has consisted of namedropping random people and things with no prior significance within the show itself and it remains entirely unclear whether they’re ever going to have significance within the show itself

look, I can buy Ahsoka not wanting to train the kid both for her stated reasons and for some implied stuff from earlier on in canon (the kids in the Ahsoka novel, the babies from Future of the Force), even what happened with Ezra, and obviously she has Plans and cannot haul a baby around with her when that baby is going to be a baby for an indeterminate amount of time

which honestly is something that ought to come up because even if Ahsoka wanted to train the kid by the time she grew old and died he might, if we were very lucky, have advanced to being essentially a pre-teen and then would be on his own again? this is also true for Din.

lol sure go cast yourself out into the Force, I’m sure there’s absolutely not a single darksider still wandering around the galaxy who might perk up at “ooh, free apprentice!”

I’m literally starting to think that this show takes place in an alternate universe where Luke and Leia either don’t exist or died at some point in the OT

me, baffled, last season: you’re telling me Cara Dune, Alderaanian, had never heard of the Jedi? was she not keeping up with whatever Leia Organa was doing? was the Rebel Alliance actually big enough that PEOPLE IN IT HADN’T HEARD OF LUKE SKYWALKER?

what...is Luke doing right now. isn’t he training Leia?

WHAT HAS AHSOKA BEEN DOING FOR TEN YEARS are we seriously supposed to believe she peaced out of the Rebel Alliance after Malachor and whatever the hell they’re going to make that out to be (honestly at this point I’m betting on “they will never touch it”)

does or does Ahsoka not know that Luke exists

hoo boy can you just see them trying to cast a younger Luke, or do you think they’d CGI de-age Mark Hamill?

oh yeah let’s go through this again in a season with someone else playing young Luke, let’s, I’m not emotionally invested in that so I’m prepared to be entertained

hasn’t Sebastian Stan been floated (even if just on Twitter) for young Luke?

why are these not-imperials on this planet. what are they doing here. what’s the point.

why is the planet...being burned? I was half-expecting, like, normal deforestation (in terms of logging for lumber) but I’m also a bit ??? about this.

since when is beskar resistant to lightsabers, I thought cortosis was the only thing that was? whatever, it’s new canon, they can do whatever they want. (ETA: apparently that’s been true for a while; I am more a Jedi person than a Mandalorian one as far as the EU goes and my Mandalorian lore is my weakest point.)

dear god were these fight scenes bad

I did spot Morai and I appreciated the tookas

okay, I am taking the next thing out of bullet points because I was really, really upset by it, and as an Asian-American woman it affects me directly.

I was really, really shaken by the use of village of (space) Asian people who were portrayed solely as background victims to be tortured and exploited. Star Wars has a long history of Orientalism, and some of it I can look away from and some of I can’t. Mando especially has a very bad track record with its treatment of Asian characters (Fennec Shand), and in recent years the rest of Star Wars live action has also been pretty bad about it; I will never forget how shaken and upset I was by Paige Tico’s death at the beginning of TLJ, and Rose’s sidelining in TROS was a lot to deal with. There has also been some pretty appalling anti-Asian racism from the Mandalorian fandom that I have seen in regards towards casting rumors about Sabine (which brought me to the point of tears as recently as yesterday).

I had been braced for Rosario Dawson Ahsoka because it’s been rumored for so long, if never officially confirmed by Lucasfilm, and after they pulled the original VA for Leia from Resistance a few years ago (without ever making an official statement but it was after she made really dismissive statements during the Kavanaugh hearings) I was still really hoping they’d pull Dawson for the transphobic assault allegations, or that the rumors were false, or...something. I was not expecting the way that they treated the Asian civilian population here. I kept hoping that there was going to be something, and it’s like they kept almost going there with Governor Wing (you want to make either his name or his position clear in the actual episode, maybe?) but then kept pulling back, which just made the whole population victims that had to be rescued by outsiders. And exploited, and tortured, and abused in general.

And yes, I’m aware the Magistrate/Morgan Elsbeth is an Asian-American woman. That doesn’t make it better? Since Ahsoka presumably kills her offscreen?

(Also Diana Lee Inosanto is a stunt performer and a fight choreographer, why is that fight scene so wooden, damn.)

okay back to bullet points to wrap up

I realize I haven’t said much about Din and the kid and that’s because they didn’t...do...much? I guess if you’re actually invested in them “YAY HE HAS FEELINGS” is a major thing but I’m not

I have flashes of being invested in Din, but the problem is that I never know what the hell this show is doing because it’s all over the place. We are 5/8 of the way into season 2 and I have no idea what it’s trying to do: they keep setting stuff up and then not doing anything with it. I can make vague predictions based on what’s set up and based on my knowledge of canon, but this show is so weirdly set up and paced that I can never tell if they’re something for A Reason, for the lulz, or for the Aesthetic.

I feel extremely vindicated by the revelation a few weeks ago that Din grew up in a cult but I also straight-up feel like I spent the past year being gaslighted about what Mandalorians were, and that’s...not a great feeling. Do I think that the show is going to do anything with that? Fuck, I don’t know. I hope so. I know what I’d do as a writer. But I can’t predict anything they’re doing and that makes me really uneasy.

jeez, at least when George Lucas was making Star Wars you knew he was doing it to entertain himself and tell a specific story rather than constantly having to go back and wonder what story lines got compromised for a project down the road.

like, is this why they did mo-cap Ahsoka in S7, to brace us for live action Ahsoka here? I know they had already filmed Mando S2 before S1 came out. WHY THEY DIDN’T THEY REUSE LAUREN MARY KIM AS AHSOKA’S STUNT DOUBLE THEN? it’s not like she hasn’t stunted in Mando before?

if this was supposed to be a backdoor pilot to a Rebels sequel...I will flip a table

I enjoyed the Bad Batch eps in TCW S7 but knowing that there’s going to be a Bad Batch show I’m now wondering if they’re only in S7 to backdoor pilot that show

how far back does this go? did they put the Legacy of Mandalore story line in Rebels S4 solely to set up for this? especially considering that that’s the one thing in S4 that actually has saga weight and then they immediately got rid of everything it accomplished to set up for this?

I presume that this is the reason they refused to release the turnaround for Ahsoka’s epilogue look two years ago. apparently it doesn’t matter given they changed her entire epilogue color scheme and also her lekku and personality.

Look -- at the end of the day, there was only about a 2% chance I was ever going to like this episode, but I was holding out for it nevertheless. I do get surprised from time to time! I liked the Bo-Katan episode! This was, however, a hot mess. And yes: a lot of the things that bother me are not going to bother other people. (I haven’t seen anyone comment on the Asian villagers, for example.)

#just so there is no doubt: I HATED THIS EPISODE #the mandalorian spoilers #bedlam watches the mandalorian #mando the jedi

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star-going-supernova · 3 years

Note

I would certainly be interested in reading the unofficial version of Damsell in Distress if it's not a problem. - Elsie

Ask and ye shall receive! It starts immediately after Maddie tells Godzilla that her dad was kidnapped and includes the beginning of the original ending. It's also incomplete, as I stopped writing the murdery part maybe 2/3 of the way through.

Please be warned, what happens isn't nice. If KiaRL was too much for you, maybe skip this one. It's similar to what Godzilla did to those kidnappers, but it's from one of their POVs, so, like, there's a bit of detail in some places. I wouldn't say it's overly graphic, but... yeah. Exercise caution.

• • •

Kidnapping, when done right and with fellow professionals, was a lucrative business. Blake Curtis knew that well.

It was with well-earned confidence that he and the other seven members of their homegrown operation relaxed in the nice office space they’d rented out for this particular venture. The building was decently far from the mark’s—no pun intended—place of residence, but not so far from the location of the organization he belonged to.

You didn’t want the fingers to start rotting in the mail, after all. And sending them in anything other than a padded envelope was bound to be memorable to the wrong people.

Being forgettable was, in all ways, the name of their game.

Blake and every last one of his associates were plain. Not a one of them was particularly attractive, or had stand-out features, or had public interactions outside of the most basic, scripted conversations. And for that reason, no one every gave them a second look. No one ever remembered them more than a few minutes after an encounter—and they certainly wouldn’t have been able to describe them.

It was an art form, and a well-paying one, at that.

Completely unconscious in one of the other rooms in the office was their newest target, a man reportedly high in the rankings of Monarch. Mark Russell: divorced—the ex was dead—father of two children—one of whom was also dead—and living with his young daughter out in the middle of nowhere. Important enough to his peers to be worth a ransom, but not so important to have a bodyguard.

They couldn’t have asked for a better setup.

With the target secured and unable to cause any problems, it was just a matter of waiting. Four of his associates had broken out a pack of cards and were coming up with increasingly ridiculous ways to cheat at their game. Alice, his cousin, was reading Pride and Prejudice by the window, sipping at some fruity drink she’d made for herself.

Ryan was napping on the couch, his hat covering his face, and good ole Winnie, the leader of their group, was typing away at her laptop.

Blake sighed, content, and leaned back in his comfortable office chair. He took a drag of his cigarette and let his eyes drift half-closed. The toe of his shoe absently slid along the ground, lazily spinning him back and forth.

A faint tremble went through his chair.

Off to his side, Alice made a dreamy noise. A burst of laughter rose up from the card players.

Another tremble, slightly stronger than the first, had him peeking his eyes open. An earthquake, perhaps? They didn’t have any neighbors in the building—they’d made sure of that—but no one else seemed to be noticing the shudders passing through the structure.

They began to increase in intensity, and the time between them grew shorter.

Snorting awake when a mug rattled on the coffee table, Ryan pushed his hat up and raised his head. “What’s doin’ that?” he asked groggily.

Alice and Winnie looked over at him. Blake stood, keeping his stance wide as the tremors grew worse.

“I don’t think this is how earthquakes work,” Alice said, sliding a ribbon into her well-worn book.

The four playing cards, who Blake now saw were sharing a couple bottles of alcohol between them, set their game aside, still giggling.

“A train?” Blake suggested. “Helicopters?”

The windows rattled, and outside, someone screamed.

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Omar said, stumbling up from his seat. He took a swig from one of the bottles. “I rem’ber this scene.” He stared into the narrow opening with one eye squinted shut.

“What are you doing?” Eli asked, less drunk-looking than the other three.

“Lookin’ for ripples. That’s how you know a t-rex is coming.”

“It won’t work if you’re holding the bottle, moron,” Dennis, which was wonderfully ironic, said. Blake didn’t pay them any attention, though, as he went over to one of the windows.

He could hear more people screaming, and despite a poor vantage point, he was just able to make out a number of people running frantically down the road. A car swerved wildly around the fleeing populace, crashing into a light pole. The driver climbed out, appearing to be muttering in a panic to himself, and took off at a sprint.

“Something’s happening out there,” he said to Alice as she joined him.

Sandy chuckled. “Maybe it’s a monster attack.” She stood and cracked her back.

An enormous crash jolted the building so badly, everyone standing found themselves grasping desperately for something to hold on to. Ryan tumbled off the couch with a yelp. Omar lost his footing entirely and fell with a strained chuckle. The glass bottle hit the edge of the table and shattered.

While Omar complained about getting bits of glass in his hands, Blake, closely followed by Alice and Winnie, ran to the roof access the office space came with.

“Maybe something crashed,” he huffed out. “A plane, or a huge pile-up—”

“If only we could be so lucky,” Winnie said, and then they were bursting out onto the roof.

He heard his cousin whisper a curse in another language, his own jaw going slack as his mind went blank with an instinctual fear.

Not a few blocks away, Godzilla stood between high-rises. He moved slowly, almost carefully—if you were willing to personify such a monster—but every few footfalls, he seemed to step particularly hard, shaking the earth.

The three of them remained frozen, watching with wide eyes, as Godzilla growled, periodically swinging his head around. Like he’s looking for something, Blake thought.

He—like most of the world—had seen footage from at least one of the past incidents involving the Titans. Godzilla in San Francisco had been all anyone could talk about for a few weeks, and the clip of him leaving the city always seemed to be playing on one news channel or another. A sensational tragedy.

It didn’t do the real thing justice. Such a massive creature—he hadn’t comprehended before now just how large Godzilla truly was. And it was different to see him with his own two eyes, where the possibility of an internet hoax couldn’t explain a thing.

“Whatever he’s doing here can’t be good,” Winnie finally said. “We should leave before any other Titans show up.”

She vanished back into the office, leaving Blake and his cousin to stare at the monster towering over them.

A disbelieving huff left Alice. “That’s not something you see everyday, huh?”

“Are we supposed to run away?” Blake asked. “Or is it like a tornado drill?”

“If Winnie says we’re leaving, then we’re leaving.” She paused as Godzilla leaned forward to sniff at a skyscraper. A few more steps, and he’d be walking entirely away from them. As it was, Blake figured someone with a better throwing arm could probably hit the Titan from where they were standing. Alice shook her head and turned toward the roof access. “C’mon, we gotta grab Russell. We’ll have to figure something else out if the drop-off gets changed.”

Since her back was facing Godzilla, Blake was the only one who say the way the monster’s head turned in their direction. His spines pulsed blue, sending a shock of fear down Blake’s own spine, and he took two thunderous steps closer to their high rise.

Blake stumbled back, suddenly unable to breath. His focus narrowed down to those inhuman, burning eyes, suddenly centered on him. His reaction must have caught Alice’s attention, because he distantly heard her scream out behind him.

For some reason, hearing her scream like that was what made Blake snap out of his daze, just in time to see Godzilla’s claw-tipped hand-paw thing closing in on their roof.

The building shook when he made contact, a web of cracks spiraling out from Godzilla’s palm. Blake lost his balance entirely, landing painfully on his tailbone. Even then, he couldn’t completely shake himself out of his stupor enough to stand, much less run.

After sniffing again, Godzilla started growling, low and dangerous. The sound of it nearly paralyzed Blake.

He managed to pull himself backward in an awkward crab-walk until his back hit the short raised ledge surrounding the roof. Through it all, he couldn’t look away from Godzilla’s eyes.

Could an animal really feel as much fury as Blake thought he could see in them?

A commotion below finally ripped away his attention. Ryan had emerged, stumbling for the soccer-mom-style van they had parked across the street. He was emitting a constant stream of panicked gibberish. Sandy was standing at the base of the building, hollering at him to hurry up and stop tripping over himself.

“Hey!”

Blake whipped around. Dennis was standing in the doorway with an impatient look on his face. “Didn’t you hear Winnie? We’re leaving!”

An odd buzzing interrupted his attempt to answer, and both men looked up in surprise. Godzilla, was above them, leaning on the roof. He had blue eyes now, Blake realized.

Dennis made a strangled sound. “What the hell—”

Godzilla’s mouth opened as the buzzing seemed to reach its peak, and a bright blue beam of light shot out from between his razor sharp teeth. Blake cried out and curled up into a ball. The heat from being so close to the beam was painfully intense.

Dennis was huddled in the stairwell when Blake managed to look over at him, ears ringing and spots popping in his vision. His jeans were darker on the insides of his thighs. Blake couldn’t even blame him.

As his hearing returned after a few seconds, he became aware of a terrible shrieking. Leaning up to look over the ledge at the ground, he stared uncomprehending for a moment before the reality of what he was seeing hit him. He turned and heaved, throwing up his lunch beside him.

He caught sight of Dennis rushing over, but he wasn’t able to warn him away fast enough, and after a moment, his colleague was vomiting over the edge of the roof.

The road below was nothing more than a scorched crater, their van reduced to a smoldering mound of metal. Ryan was completely gone, just vaporized in the heat of the laser-like beam Godzilla had shot.

But that wasn’t the worst of it.

Having been close to the beam himself, Blake’s skin felt tight, like after getting a bad sunburn. What little of his skin he could see was reddened, but not blistering.

Sandy, who’d been down there with Ryan, hadn’t been as lucky.

She must have just ventured away from the building when Godzilla fired, not close enough to share Ryan’s fate, but closer than Blake.

What he’d seen would haunt his nightmares for years to come, he suspected. The writhing mass of flesh, with bubbling sores, all melted in on herself, was unlike anything he’d ever seen. The roof was too high for him to have seen details, but he’d gotten the impression that Sandy’s face was nothing more than a smooth plane, her open mouth the only remaining orifice.

Dennis was babbling as he remained hunched against the ledge, but Blake couldn’t make himself understand any of the words.

Gagging over the sour taste lingering on his tongue, Blake shrunk back as he looked up at Godzilla, just in time to see the monster huff with his eyes half-lidded. It was an expression of satisfaction if he’d ever seen one.

“Wha’s goin’ on?” Blake heard Omar say.

Godzilla’s hand lifted from the roof, just as the man drunkenly stumbled through the door.

“Someone’s screamin’ down there,” he told them, rather pointlessly. “Winnie’s all worked up ’bout it.” He kept walking, apparently somehow missing the giant lizard monster looming right over them.

Blake saw it coming a moment too late. “Omar—!” he cried, reaching out as if he could shove the man to safety.

But he couldn’t, so he watched helplessly as Omar squinted in confusion as Godzilla’s hand slammed back down, squishing the man with disturbing ease.

He'd seen a snake, once, flattened on the roadside. Like a flat drawing. Omar was reduced to that, to a thin, bloody pile of viscera. His jeans were still visible, bunched up on themselves. Empty. Leaking.

Dennis groaned and threw up again, this time, on their side of the ledge. While he was distracted, Godzilla’s blood-dripping hand swept upward, on a collision course for the both of them. Blake yelled wordlessly and dove forward, ducking.

With a meaty thwack, Dennis was swatted up into the air. He shrieked as he fell, and the abrupt silence made Blake gasp out a terrified sob.

Why is this happening? he wondered hysterically, scrabbling at the rough concrete to try and put some distance between himself and the monster. But there was no safety to be found.

Godzilla once more returned his bloody hand to the rooftop, and Blake heard the way the building began to crumbled beneath the pressure. A large hole broke through the top floor’s ceiling with a grating crash, Godzilla’s hand mercilessly sinking into the building.

It was then that Blake heard the Alice’s screams.

(a few more deaths that I never wrote happen here. Blake is the only one left alive)

For a second, Blake thought he was about to witness Godzilla swallow a man down whole. That Mark Russell—who should be glad to still be unconscious—would disappear behind those teeth and never be seen again.

Instead, Godzilla made a rumbling noise so very different from his growls, and turned his back on the building. There was a mind-boggling gentleness in that blood-stained jaw, holding a human as if he were aware of how delicate the man’s body was.

It scared him, the possibility that Godzilla could be aware like that. Intelligent.

Blake slumped bonelessly against the rooftop beside the large hole and breathed a shaky sigh of relief. The blue sky was suddenly blocked by something gray, casting him in a shadow, and his last thought was of realization—that Godzilla’s tail was about two seconds away from demolishing the building and him with it.

He didn’t even have time to close his eyes.

• • •

Only a few hours after Maddie’s brief interaction with Godzilla, reports of the King entering a decently sized city reached Castle Bravo. He didn’t seem to be moving with aggression, or in response to a threat, so G-team was left largely on standby.

Everything changed quickly. There were suddenly alarms going off, people shouting, and panic spread like wildfire through the halls.

Maddie watched with a dull sense of bewilderment as Castle Bravo employees ran in and out of the control room, frantic and jittery. Having grown tired of sitting numbly on the floor, Maddie pushed to her feet and carefully wandered through the chaos.

Unwilling to interrupt anyone, she merely listened in, and through her unsubtle eavesdropping, learned Godzilla had apparently gone berserk on some humans in an office building. Just straight up murdered eight people.

No one seemed to know why—whether he’d been provoked somehow, or whether he’d simply gone into a city with the intent to kill.

Griffin suddenly appeared at Maddie’s shoulder, startling her. “C’mon, kid, we’re getting you out of here, all right?” She gently but firmly wrapped her fingers around Maddie’s upper arm and smoothly guided her out of the room.

“You’re not going after him?” she asked, hurrying to keep up.

“We will, but only after we get the handful of civilians back to the mainland.” She cast Maddie an apologetic glance. “Emergency protocols, kid. Ilene’ll join you soon to stay with you until we get things figured out.”

An Osprey being piloted by Griffin and another G-teamer took off a few minutes later, carrying seven civilians who had all been at Castle Bravo for different reasons. Maddie recognized two of them from the investigators for her dad’s kidnapping, and she tightly gripped the edge of her seat. If Godzilla’s totally uncharacteristic attack got her dad killed or something because Monarch had to set the case aside, she’d be having words with him.

Even with aircraft as fast as the Ospreys, the flight still took over an hour. Long enough for Maddie to slip in and out of a doze, never quite falling all the way asleep. It left her feeling even more tired by the time they landed.

They literally couldn’t have made the journey shorter, since the Osprey dropped them off within throwing distance of the ocean. A Monarch warehouse sat in a large industrial park, complete with an impressive pier jutting out into the water.

While the other civilians went inside, Maddie wandered out to the end of the enormous dock, where she sat down and dangled her feet off the side. It was high enough up that she couldn’t have touched the water even if she hung off the edge completely.

She lowered herself to her back and tried to keep her mind nice and empty. No thoughts were better than bad ones.

She wasn’t sure how long she stayed like that, though it couldn’t have been too long, when she heard the splashing of something moving through the water.

Maddie sat up, instantly surprised to see Godzilla approaching the pier, his head held oddly above the surface. She’d never seen him swim like that.

He rumbled at her as he got closer. Squinting, Maddie saw that he had something in his mouth, held careful between his teeth. She couldn’t tell what it was.

An animal of some sort, maybe? Regardless, she quickly stood and backed up, since Godzilla seemed to be aiming to deposit his cargo where she’d been sitting. He leaned up, the rumble only growing in strength, and carefully spit out the thing in his mouth. She had only a moment to appreciate how hilariously smug he looked with himself as he sank back to a comfortable depth, and then she was looking at the creature he’d presented her with.

She couldn’t have been more shocked if she’d been hit by a bolt of lightning. Maddie darted forward and collapsed painfully to her knees with a strangled little yelp.

“Dad!” she cried, frantically tugging and pushing at him. “Dad, please!

He was definitely breathing, which almost made her burst into tears on its own, but then his eyes sluggishly opened at her call, and Maddie gracelessly collapsed against him. Hugging someone who was half-unconscious and entirely restrained was awkward at best, but it was still one of the top five hugs she’d ever participated in in her life.

She heard him slur something back, quiet and raspy and still very out of it, but she was pretty sure it was her name.

“I should go get someone,” Maddie realized. It felt like she’d been dropped into a world that moved twice as fast as she did, or like she’d been trapped in slow motion since her dad had been kidnapped.

Luckily—because she wasn’t sure she could have pried herself away from her dad—someone seemed to have taken notice of Godzilla’s appearance, and a crew of people were already running out to them.

Before they could reach her, Maddie turned to Godzilla with a lump in her throat. “Thank you,” she said, trying to inject every ounce of her sincerity, and then some, into those two, utterly inadequate words.

#i answered a thing #Elsie #godzilla fic #life and times of star

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shimmershae · 3 years

Text

My thoughts on Episode 6--On the Inside

Very appropriate title by the way. Works in a multitude of ways.

As always, my randomness is going beneath a cut again to spare the eyeballs of those of you that don’t want to see it at all and also? Help those of you that have somehow stayed spoiler-free in this brand-new age of early release episodes. It is still so wild to me that I’m a full episode ahead of half the fandom. I don’t know what I’m going to do when we get to the final episode and they decide to make us all suffer together--because somehow I do feel they will do exactly that after spoiling us for the first 23 episodes. It is going to be agonizing.

Anyway. Without further ado, Shae’s stream of consciousness review (of sorts).

Not fair, Angela. Opening the episode with that shot of that big ass spider. I hate those suckers. So naturally, they’re an easy sell for setting the horror scene to me, lol.

Okay. Who the hell’s chasing Virgil and Connie? Walker No-See-Ums?

Barely a minute in and the atmosphere for this episode is moody AF.

What is this? Tara Jr. The Walking Dead? LOL. Where’s the Scarlett for this mini plantation house? Anyway. First three minutes of this episode? Just as attention grabbing as the first five episode openings this season. I don’t think people out there are giving our writers enough love for that. Every episode so far has opened like a mini movie.

With the way the Walking Dead logo keeps crumbling away with each successive episode, somehow it wouldn’t surprise me at all if the Carol and Daryl spinoff was eventually titled The Living and had flowers growing out of each letter, lol. I mean, there would be a certain sort of life-affirming symmetry in a show that’s been promised to be much lighter in tone doing just that.

More Carol and Aaron? Yes, please. I don’t necessarily like Carol staying at home and sitting the sidelines like a figurative happy little homemaker in the B story while the rest of the mains are trying like hell to sell the A story, but if she’s going to be totally prohibited from the main storyline until it’s time to blow shit up? I’m going to continue enjoy getting to see her do what she should have been doing for seasons--interacting with others in the community, especially Aaron and the ladies.

Truly. I really am loving my girl getting some quality Aaron and Rosita time. It’s so long overdue.

Bless sweet Kelly. Riding off to her sister’s rescue.

Why isn’t Lydia shown as part of these plans? For someone that could barely read last season, I doubt that big ass map was a piece of cake for her and it’s all just guesswork anyway without her guidance. I mean, why does it feel like they are cutting some of this stuff that might not seem like much plot-wise but would go a long way toward establishing different character beats? Personally, I would have loved to see her involved in the search and sharing scenes again with Carol and bonding with Kelly.

Virgil be having that “I always feel like somebody’s watching me” feeling. Don’t you hate that, lol?

“You haven’t slept in days.” But how many days, Virgil? I’m going to need a number because I’m confused AF about this timeline at this point. What we’re seeing and what different pieces of dialogue is telling us is not exactly lining up. I’m going to find it awful hilarious if it hasn’t even been two weeks since the cave in. For reasons.

Connie’s spidey senses are clearly tingling.

Alrighty, then. She’s clearly got PTSD. Understandable. They’ve all had it. Some have been treated more sympathetically than others, though.

I mean, it never seems to cross anybody’s mind how Carol probably sees Henry’s head on that pike, Mika’s pale and bloody body, Lizzie crumpled face down in a bed of yellow flowers, Sophia with a smoking bullet hole through her undead head whenever she closes her eyes but whatever.

Okay though. But what if Connie had really shitty, impossible to read handwriting? AKA doctor’s handwriting. What then?

Leah’s face honestly twists my insides whenever I see it, lol. It’s quiet a visceral thing. No, that does not make me a horrible person. Not everybody wants or has to drink the awesome, great, redeemable villainess Kool-Aid. IMHO, she’s got a face meant for a Walker. Perfect makeover idea. Eh. Mostly it’s her expression and the deadness of her eyes.

Anyway. Why is it always the fingers? Eff that.

Listen. If ya’ll can’t tell Daryl’s conflicted AF with the situation he’s landed in, you don’t know how to read NR’s face and eyes. He’s not a masterclass like MMB but he’s pretty darn good when he wants to be.

I honestly feel sorry for Redshirt Frost.

“You do what you gotta do.” Frost knows what’s what and he’s willing to walk the walk for Maggie. Impressive loyalty. I’m left wondering how the current, colder incarnation of Maggie inspired it because I’m still struggling to see it. Anywho. My point is the dude knows the score and just gave Daryl the okay.

Daryl taking off his angel vest before stepping into the role of torturer/interrogator=him shedding the persona/the man Judith and RJ and Lydia and Carol know him to be. Pushing away his man of honor status so he can just survive somehow.

Pope never quits chewing whatever the hell he’s got in his mouth. It’s kind of distracting.

Ohhh. We’re back to the Haunted Mansion. I mean house. Where are the Hitchhiking Ghosts?

All the eyes scratched out of those creepy pictures=spooky.

The good old fogged up bathroom mirror shot. Somebody’s been watching and studying their horror movies, lol. Not gonna lie though. I’m legit bracing myself for the jump scares I know have to be coming.

I’m loving the music/score in these scenes.

Truthfully, I could care less about these Reapers. But they are hella attractive, lol. Listen. Angela knows what she’s doing.

Kelly’s horse is so pretty. Prayer chain for that baby.

More dead horses? Why?

Connie’s slingshot? Sorry. I maintain, no matter how much I like these two, that they have the lamest weapons ever. Endless supply of Virginia rocks or not.

So. Did Virgil and Connie enjoy a little equine for dinner? Did they kill it before the Walkers fed? What monsters! Yeah, no. Not if they were starving even if I personally could not have. The more probable story is they fled the camp in a panic and left the horse behind and then it went down. Sorry. I didn’t exactly study the wounds on the poor animal because it is so traumatizing to me to continue to see them meet such dastardly ends on this show. I don’t know who the hell has such a score to settle with horses but stop it.

Days. It’s only been days. Not weeks. So many times with all that Daryl and Company have had to contend with since the cave in? Those do not exist, lol. They’re just a convenient, appeasing piece of dialogue thrown at a fanbase primed and ready to read everything into not much of anything. There’s just not been enough time for it to happen unless Daryl has literally been up 24/7 for all of them. You know, strategizing how to attack the remainders of Alpha’s horde, figuring out how to defend Hilltop before it fell, healing from the wound he sustained at Alpha’s hand, sitting on that log all damn night with Negan waiting on Carol to come home, having a lover’s quarrel with his best damn everything, taking care of the Grimes babies and Lydia, being the reluctant leader. Kang, why you playing them like that? Daryl’s a super guy but he’s not a superhuman with clones. So many times my ass.

Seriously. Who been watching Connie and Virgil? The MIA Oceansiders? Beta’s Fee Fi Fo Fum Ghost?

Nice. A Michonne mention. Maybe the truth will start to trickle out.

LMAO at Connie’s “I’m not staying here.” Me neither, girl. I would be outta that house so fast.

They really “Quiet Placing” this episode. Honestly? I’m kinda loving it.

WTF was that? I know she can’t hear but you telling me all the little hairs on her arms, legs, and neck didn’t stand the fuck up and say fuck this shit, I’m gone? Pardon my language, lovelies, but that moment had my heart kicking up several beats.

Okay, okay. To be fair to Connie, every hair on her body been doing that since the front door closed. Maybe they’re desensitized.

Gollum’s chasing Connie!!! He/She wants their Precious!!!

The knee jerk reactions about this episode sight unseen are OTT, honestly. And I mean no disrespect by saying that. I can understand completely where they’re coming from because we’ve been burned so long in this fandom. But it’s obvious the spoiler source has their particular biases and reads into things in such a way that don’t line up with what’s actually being shown onscreen. Daryl’s loyalty in this episode and all along quite clearly lies with his family and his community. He’s been playing Leah since the start and is truly just trying to survive somehow.

Awful thought. The Reaper that’s so suspish of Daryl--haven’t quite caught his name or really cared to. I feel like he might try to get to Daryl somehow. When he realizes that Daryl cares no more for Leah than any human would care for somebody (they thought) they used to know? He’s going after Dog. Or Carol should she finally join this story.

I refuse to believe Carol isn’t going to be a part of this story. Because they messing with her mans, lol.

“You’re ever with us or you’re not.” Now where have I heard those words before? I wish I could find that Daryl gif because that had to be one of the funniest things ever, lol.

Unrealistic suggestion to Daryl, Leah? Breathing oxygen seems to piss off Carver. Oh look. He finally has a name for me, lol.

I love how all three of the ladies--Carol, Magna, and Rosita--look at Kelly with such indulgent, adoring “little sis, you alright?” eyes.

They are seriously the most beautiful quartet of characters. I mean all of them are lovely but Carol and Rosita this season? Ugh. The unfairness of the pretty.

Human bones. Terminus callback, lovelies. How it all would have eventually gone down if Gareth and Co. hadn’t met the business end of Rick’s red machete.

So many horror movie homages in this one.

Virgil’s like “let’s leave this Texas Chainsaw Massacre behind.”

Connie and Virgil have obviously bonded, ya’ll. I’m surprised by how much I’m enjoying their scenes together when the character mostly got on my nerves with Michonne. He’s a good actor and the core of his character is sympathetic, but I’m not going to lie. I wasn’t super enthused when he was the one that rescued Connie because I didn’t know how their scenes would play out. But there’s a nice synergy there.

Okay. Does Carver want Leah for himself? Because I’m sure Daryl at this point would love to scream “take her, I know where I fucking belong!”

Daryl’s digging in deep because Carver has shown him Leah’s potential weak spot. Nuance is truly lost on some people, LMAO. He cares about Leah as a human being probably. He’s Daryl, after all. The sweet one. But he sees her as his way outta this and he’s going to exploit it.

It’s nice to have a silent Negan for once, lol. I can pretend he didn’t take my baby Glenn away from me and enjoy JDM’s pretty.

So. These cannibal people were the watchers? Hmm.

I’m really digging Virgil 2.0. Yeah. Nobody’s surprised more than me.

Sweet, sweet scene between Virgil and Connie. His determination to reunite her with her family brings back the sympathy I felt for him when he told Michonne “I promised her flowers. Every day.”

Damn. How many of those creepy crawly cannibals are there?

How brave of Connie to confront her fears to save someone she’s obviously grown to care about.

The Kelly/Connie reunion gave me chills and made me cry. Thank fuck Angela didn’t cheapen that moment by having it focus on literally anybody else. Kelly is the most important person in the whole world to Connie and vice versa. Just like Carol is the most important person in the whole world to Daryl and vice versa. Angela fucking knows. Everybody does. Except the people busy building castles out of sand while the waves of Carol’s and Daryl’s converging stories keep crashing closer and closer to shore.

Such a beautiful moment given to us by Angel Theory and Lauren Ridloff. So authentic and sweet. Kelly and Connie are home to each other.

Poor Frost. That’s all I gotta say about that.

WTF, though. Was Mel just not available or what? I want to see more of the ASZ characters that I care about, not the Reapers. Like I’d be fine with the story if all the characters not named Maggie, Negan, or Daryl weren’t surviving on crumbs during it. Especially the 2nd billed actress on the entire show. Angela. Please. Fix this.

One last WTF. Seriously. WTF has Maggie done to inspire Pope’s obsession? It better be juicy after all this shit.

Overall impression of the episode--

One of my favorites of the season so far. The horror aspects were fantastic, IMHO. I truly didn’t expect to like Connie and Virgil’s scenes as much together so that was a nice surprise. She got the reunion that felt most true and earned for the character and her story and I thank Angela from the bottom of my heart for that.

I would have loved more Carol but I always want more Carol. I’m okay with her taking a backseat because ultimately? This was Kelly’s moment with her sister. Carol and Connie will eventually have their time to sit down and talk. And pick back up their blossoming friendship because I truly do not feel Connie blames Carol at all.

I do wish Lydia had been included with the girl group. Last episode felt like it was leading up to that.

The Reaper storyline continues to be the weakest link because every time we see them the dialogue and interactions feel totally recycled from the time previous. I feel like it would have totally been helped by a tighter focus and less stretching out because 8 episodes of this is really diluting what I feel like Angela and Co. are going for. I’m not here for Leah being redeemed or being a bigger focus in any of the episodes because she does nothing of interest for me. I’m just peeking in on that story for the Daryl of it all.

Speaking of the Daryl? You lovelies out there gotta stop taking that spoiler source’s recaps at face value because it’s obvious to me at least that there’ some bias at work. Every action and word coming from Daryl is coming from a place of loyalty to his family and wanting to protect them, no matter how he has to dirty his hands. Leah is just a means to his ultimate end. She’s not his future. She never was. His future’s already spoken for and 2023 can’t get here soon enough. But like Daryl, we have to just survive somehow.

Oh goodie. More Maggie and Negan next episode and looks like no real follow up on Connie and the ASZ reunions. Hopefully, this is yet another instance of the previews being deceiving but I’m not holding my breath.

Until later, lovelies.

Hope my word vomit didn’t bore you too much.

#The Walking Dead #Season 11 #TWD spoilers #things that make me smile and cry #for reasons #ignore all the typos #with something this longwinded?#LOL #there's bound to be plenty

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cherryblossomtease · 3 years

Text

Part 5b

18+ only

warnings summary masterlist

You’re sad, not cruel, so you serve tea at the little table sat by the bay window, the lace curtain a lovely backdrop to the dark mood. Neither of you saying much as you do.

He’s watching you, his pretty eyes fixed on your every move as you pour and open the sugar. He holds up his hand to refuse, but accepts the milk and when you sit, he dares to look at your face.

“Thank you for letting me come,” He says.

You nod.

He is looking at the ribbon you’ve taken to wearing around your neck when your collar is not high and you look away, angry, embarrassed…

The Baron clears his throat and reaches across the table to take your hand but you draw it in and look at him holding nothing back. “First you did not write! Then you did not come! Everyone else did! My poor sick father made the trip. It nearly killed him but he came,”

He sits back with a sigh.

“You were here the entire time were you not?”

“I came as soon as I heard.” He confirms.

You don't know if this makes it better or worse.“Then why? Was it too hard for you? To see me cut open? You wanted to wait until they stuck me back together, or am I too ugly now?” You want to say more but your words are stifled by the tears that betray you and fall over your cheeks which you quickly brush away.

He leans in again hushing you in a soft stream of Sokovian… “Draga devojko…you are the most beautiful woman, there are no exceptions to this. What’s happened to you can not change that, nothing can change that. When I first met you, yes, I saw your lovely eyes your sweet smile, I heard you sing of course but it was when I got to know the woman beneath that your beauty was revealed in truth.”

You blink up at him licking a tear from your lips.

How can someone who has not looked at you in nearly a month, who has left you questioning every word, every action and every assumed feeling say something and nearly erase all of that hurt.

You shake your head, your smile sardonic at best as you speak. “I still don’t understand….” This is said about many things, but you start at the beginning. “I was, so looking forward to that night. Everything seemed perfect. I saw him, in the audience you know...”

“Who?”

“The man who came to hear me sing. He came just for me. I believe he wanted to write a show and cast me as the lead. And when John said there was a message for me. Well I knew it would be from you.” You stop and take a quick sip of your own tea needing to steady yourself. Your hands are shaking. You haven’t said any of this out loud yet you realize. “When I—when I saw that it was not. I think that was the moment I knew you wouldn’t be coming back. Even if they hadn’t…” You touch the ribbon. “Just to find someone else standing where I’d hoped you might be made it clear to me that you had really gone. But I still had my voice I still had something. So after, when I lay in bed waiting just to speak, just to be able to say good morning to my nurse; I knew what it felt like to have nothing. I’ve never had nothing before.”

Your confession surprises you. It’s true. Even as a child with an empty belly you had your fathers stories to distract you from hunger. At Augustines you had Brigitte, in the streets you had determination and on the stage you had your voice. This summer you had the Baron.

And then, for those long lonely days and fitful nights you had nothing.

It was such a dark place, you’ve only just begun to pull yourself up from the pit. Having him here has sent you reeling and you feel as though you are flailing wildly for something to grab onto, anything to stop your world tumbling back into the abyss.

You don’t even realize that he’s come to you. He’s pulled you up and into his arms and you let him, though at first you are numb. He is after all the one who has caused so much of the pain, and he still hasn’t given you an answer, but the calming way he whispers to you, his language so soft and soothing, it does something, like breaking a dam and the tears come in a wave.

His arms are tighter until you think you will suffocate but you don’t care you are surrounded by him and you feel safe.

You haven’t told him yet, you don’t know if you will but you saw the obituaries.

Charles Jones. The name of the man who did it. The name of the man he killed.

You’d asked around and found out that he’d had his throat cut, and all the way. No rose stems to soften the blade for him. The other that stood out only did so after Serena was found in her apartment inconsolable.

Unidentified man.

His name was Vasily Karpov.

They said it was suicide. That his body was unidentifiable, but it was figured out by the people who run the streets quick enough, and when word got back to your end of the city, you knew.

The war rumors had preceded anything you’d eventually learned about the Baron’s gentle nature on your own.

So, he would kill for you, but would he apologize?

You pull back and look up to find his eyes a bit red and misty.

“Why didn’t you come?” You ask again.

He gives a laugh, not because it’s funny, but because you are a most determined woman.

Smoothing your hair from your face, he kisses your forehead and cradles your cheek.

“Before this," He says glancing at your neck. "I had business abroad. Things left over from the war that I had no choice but to attend to. Things that could put you in danger if I were to say. But know this. I always meant to come back to you. I always meant to write. These unfortunate circumstances delayed my return and I am sorry. And after that..." He pauses, looks you over again and sighs. "Because I was scared.”

Though your frown is deep and stubborn, you feel yourself letting go of some of that anger. “I suppose I can forgive you for the letter. But you are not a coward Baron.”

“No… But I was scared to go through it again.”

You look away for a second, which is all it takes for you to make sense of it and your mood changes entirely.

“I have never known pain like it before.” He tells you, waiting, watching to see if you can even begin to understand.

To lose the one you love and a child? No, you can't. Only someone who has will ever know.

But you empathize finding it hard to imagine that anyone would put themselves in a position to feel that sort of unbearable hell again. You can not be angry with him for that, though it will take time to heal the raw spot in your heart from all of those lonely hours spent not knowing why he hadn't come.

You look up at the Baron and for just a moment imagine what his life has been. You turn your physical pain into the loss he has endured and it threatens to make you mad. Quickly you reach up to lay your hand against his face until you mirror his gesture and you hold one another.

“I hope you never know it again.” You say, meaning it with all your heart.

His brows turn down at your kind words and it seems your compassion has him on the verge of breaking. You sense it; his fragility just waiting to feel safe enough to be seen. In an attempt to feel anything but the never ending hurt you now both seem doomed to share, you do what your body tells you to and surprise the Baron, pulling him down into a kiss, the soft sound of his muffled reaction against your mouth making your stomach flutter.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders as he bends to lift you up, his arm around the small of your back. You peek to see his eyes closed, his long lashes a little wet with tears that never fell as he happily submits to your solution to so much sadness.

Shutting your eyes again you sink into the kiss, your lips pressing against his as your tongue dares to enter his warm mouth and you find that kissing him feels as natural now as it did before all of this.

He easily carries you through from the parlor to the little sitting room where he goes down onto the settee with you on top of him; inhaling and exhaling one another until you pull away with a moan as his mouth finds the soft, sensitive and unscarred places along your neck. But when he gets close to the ribbon you make him stop.

“I thought you had forgotten me” You scold him softly breathing harder.

He looks so sorry. “Will you forgive me?”

“In time.” You say sitting up. “In time I think I can forgive a great many things.”

The Baron’s smile is wide and warm. Your lips meet again as you give in to everything you’d missed over these last few weeks.

It feels so good to have him here, so alive in your arms, no threat of him leaving, at least not yet…

Your hands move faster, his start to grab. You bury you fingers in his hair, your face rubbing against his, your mouth open as you consider more than the kiss… but, not yet.

“Wait” You breathe feeling the pressure start to mount when he pulls at your gown. “Please, I—I know you must think that I have done this before but, I have not.” You say leaning back to see him, your hands still on either side of his face.

The Baron is staring at you for so long you smile feeling nervous and see that he seems upset. “What is it?”

“I realize I’ve made it seem as though I would treat you as any other man might.” He says, still holding you by the small of your back.

You drop your hands and look away. You want to reply in a way that doesn’t dismiss his kind nature but you also hate that it’s true. “You’re a good man, but I’ve learned to expect it.”

He hangs his head with a sigh. “Then I have let you down in more ways than I imagined.”

“That’s not so.”

“Isn’t it?”

“No. I am a… I was a stage girl. I know what that means. Good man that you are, so do you.”

He groans looking away. “Najdraža, this world is not kind to women. I know it as do you. But you do not need to make such allowances for me. I was wrong to assume.”

“Thank you” You say, somewhat stunned. You never thought you’d live to hear any man say such a thing. “You may regret those words” you tease with a smile to which he laughs softly but there is a seriousness in his eyes when he looks at you again.

“That is not possible draga devojko, do you not know? Have I not made it clear?”

You shake your head with a wonderful nervousness.

He takes hold of your face and keeps you close, the soft depth of his voice resonating in your chest as he speaks “I love you, as I have never loved anyone.” He looks away and back. As if this isn’t enough he goes on “I will be honest with you now, yes?”

You nod, your lips pressed firmly together to hold in the breath and the tears

The Baron takes your hand looking down at nothing as he speaks. “I didn’t come to the hospital because I was scared to feel not only the pain of losing the woman I love again, but of being forced to sit by and actually watch it happen…” His voice gives out, broken by the emotion, and the tears that never came fall free. “The first time I was spared that misery. I did not think I would be so lucky twice.” He shrugs and you feel his free hand press a little harder against your back, “I am not a doctor mala ptica what could I have done? Burn castles to the ground, make men beg before they die. I can hunt and plot… but what is that when you are lying there dying and I can do nothing but watch.”

In answer, you gently smooth the tears from his face with your thumbs and fingers until he exhales sharply and uses the back of his own hand to dry his face.

Taking it, you turn his hand and pull him close, laying your cheek against the bruised knuckles he thought you wouldn’t notice. You kiss the worst of it and wonder how many times he must have struck the one he cut, or perhaps it was the one he threw from the window at the warehouse? It doesn’t matter, it’s finished now and you are thankful for his hands, capable of such vengeance, and yet gentle enough to show such love…

He is watching you, his eyes half lidded as he scans your face. “You know what I’ve done.” He realizes.

“I do”

There is a hint of worry in his voice. “And you will still have me?”

“I will.” You smile.

He turns his hand to hold yours and leans forward kissing you so gently you feel a shiver up your arms and legs.

“Do you love me?” He asks.

You brush the tip of his nose with yours. “Very much.”

“And will you let me care for you; right the wrongs I’ve done and help you heal from this?”

Your heart hurts as you answer “I will”

“Then please, would you call me by my first name?” He asks next, just barely kissing you again.

You place his hand flat over the top of your breast and do the same to him, feeling the steady, heavy pounding beneath his strong chest. “I would Helmut. I would always.”

His other hand leaves your back, you feel his fingers stroke up your neck and massage into your hair until he cradles you in one hand and holds your heart in the other. “And husband?” He asks finally, his brown eyes bright in the dim light of your theatre apartment.

Your smile gives away your answer before you say it, but you say it none the less.

“I will call you husband. And myself your wife, and I will say it with what is left of my voice.”

A wedding in a tiny country church and a reception held beneath the fire red and golden leaves of autumn may not be what the daughter of a Lord would have asked for. In fact a woman of status may have found it all rather disappointing. How fortunate then that you are the daughter of an artist, and the scene painted by natures brush is one you think of often as you journey by train to your new home in Sokovia.

By now the pamphlets will be full of the story as the usual source of tabloid fodder will have gone back to their country homes, leaving those left in the city starved for a good read. The mysterious Baron who married the stage girl just before winter should hold them off until spring —but you aren’t thinking of that as you glance up at the man who sits reading beside you now. Your husband.

When you smile at him he lays his hand on your knee, aware but glued to the page of the paper. One of substance and not gossip.

It’s not until the scenery begins to change that he looks up.

It’s all so wonderfully foreign to you. The pale sky you are used to grows a deep, heavy blue, and the trees are wide at the base growing narrow at their tops. Helmut watches out the window with you looking peaceful.

“Is this Sokovia?” You ask.

He nods. “The boarder. We’ll be at the station soon, and just at sunset.”

Sunset, you look back out the window catching your reflection.

You’ve put on your new coat in anticipation of the change in weather. The light brown fur frames your face. Your hair is high and modern. You look every bit the Baroness and in every way you are.

Every way but one.

Sunsets are followed by night…

You look back at Helmut again and take his hand, your heart beating so fast that you wonder if he can feel your quickened pulse in your fingertips.

#baron zemo x you #zemo x reader #baron zemo #baron helmut zemo #helmut zemo fanfiction #victorian era #victorian au #virgin bride #yikes #zemo is a loving husband

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violetnotez · 4 years

Note

let's have more bois with pregnant s/os! 😂😂😂 Tamaki,Mirio,and Shinsou their reactions to finding out their gonna be daddies ( ˘ ³˘)♥

Omg yes anon, these boys would have the cutest reactions to finding out they got their s/o knocked up ❤️

————————

Hc: Pregnant S/O

Pairing: Tamaki x reader, Mirio x reader, Shinsou x reader

Also, I realized I should specify the ages of all the characters! Everyone will be aged up to like around 20-21 ☺️

————————

Tamaki

Tamaki has just finished patrolling for the day when he got a strange message from you, asking him to pick up some things from the market

That wasn’t particularly unusual, you would occasionally ask him to do so after work if he wasn’t too tired

But it seemed like you were trying to message someone else and not him-your message had asked “her” to grab “a lot of disposable cups”

You had also sent an image...Tamaki’s curiosity was too strong, his fingers clicking on the picuture instantly

His eyes gazed at the list, instantly recognizing the handwriting as your own. The list only had a few items, such as milk, flour, choclate...but then, at the very end, you had wrote something that truly threw his mind of out control

You wanted whoever you were texting to buy pregnancy tests

His anxiety instantly went through the roof-pregnany?! You thought you were pregnant?!? How long had you been thinking this?!? We’re you okay?!? Who was even with you getting you this stuff?!

He began to take a few deep breaths and focus his attention to calming his heart rate-something he had been practicing in order to control his anxiety

There had to be a simple explanation-maybe you were just helping a friend...maybe they were for Neijire and not for you...you had said she was going to be visiting you today

But then-you had mentioned your period was uncharacteristically late since it hadn’t came yet...and you two had been active recently-crap he needed to get home right now

Tamaki is usually a very cautious driver, but today, he was borderline speeding

He was just too wrapped up in his thoughts, trying to convince himself that it was all a misunderstanding, that you weren’t pregnant and it was just his anxiety making situations seem worse than what they were

He was itching to call you, but he was afraid of the answer you would give him-what if you did truly think your were pregnant?

he didn’t want to work himself up so badly that he wasn’t even able to drive-

no, he was going to wait to talk to you in person, that was the best thing to do

He came into the driveway, parking his car quickly, his duffel bag with his change of clothes and personal belongings long forgotten in the trunk

As he was walking up to the front steps, his mind racing, he heard none other than Neijri greet him from behind

“Oh Tamaki-san, your home from work quiet early! Slow day out there?” She chirped a little too cheerfully

Tamaki noticed the plastic bag in her hand, making him gulp-oh no, it had to be for you then

Neijire stood in front of him awkwardly, not knowing what to do

“It’s wonderful to see you, but um, Y/n-san is going through some things right now...she asked me to help her while you were out patrolling-she didn’t want to worry you prematurely...”

Neijire gave him a reassuring smile, handing him the bag

Poor Tamaki was shaking, his head hanging low-was it all true then? We’re you really thinking you were pregnant?

“Y/n-san will explain everything, but whatever happens-I hope you both are happy!” She grinned, giving Tamaki a quick hug and a cheerful goodbye as she jogged to her own car

Tamaki shakily opened the front door, too terrified to look in the bag

You came bounding down the hallway, your hair tied back loosely

“Neijire, I can’t thank you enough for- Tamaki!” You gasped slightly, not expecting to see him in front of you

You instantly ran to him, noticing how pale he looked-he honestly looked like he would pass out

“Oh my god, are you okay?” You asked, your voice full of concern as you took the bag gingerly from his hands, sitting him on the couch

“Is it true?” He asked quietly, his voice timid, “that-that you think your-“

You sighed, taking his hand in yours. You had realized too late that you had sent the message accidentally to him, too terrified of his reaction to call him after the mistake

“Well, yes, I think I might be-be pregnant...but I don’t know for sure...theres really only one way to find out.” You gave him a small smile, trying to be reassuring

you were freaking out on the inside, but after seeing Tamaki look so terrified, you knew you had to be the one who was strong for the both of you

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” you apologized, your hand finding his, “ I didn’t mean to hide this from you, I just didn’t want to worry you unless I knew for sure,”

“I-It’s alright, I want to be here for you when you find out...I-it is potentially our child after all” he said quietly, rubbing his thumb against the soft skin of your hand

You gave him a quick kiss, smiling reassuringly as you let go of his hand, taking the bag Neijiri had gotten for you

“Well-lets go find out, shall we?”

Tamaki had waited outside the door as you went to the bathroom, coming in once you went to check the test

You were honestly too scared at that point to see, so you had asked him if he was up for checking it for you

He was terrified as well, but as he was waiting, he began to think about the situation-he wouldn’t mind having a child with you, he knew one day he wanted to settle down with you and make you his for the rest of his life

This would just be a step towards that, right? He loved you with all his heart, and couldn’t think of anybody else having a child with-apart of him was hoping for it to be positive, wanting nothing more to be a father to the life you two had potentially created

His hands were shaking as he took the test in his hands, seeing that there was two little lines, meaning you were, in fact, pregnant

Poor Tamaki’s emotions finally released, tears streaming down his face quietly as he hugged you close-you were so confused, but apart of you already knew the truth

You were now crying as well, both of you complete messes as you asked him repeatedly what the test said through hiccups

He just knelt down, kissing your stomach as his arms wrapped around your waist, hugging you close

Mirio

It was a pretty normal day for Mirio-he got up, did his usual work out routine, and then got himself ready to go on a date with you later on in the day

You two had decided to go get lunch at a quiet little cafe not to far from both of your apartments-you had also told him you had something “important” to tell him, which also kinda got him excited to here your news

He was hoping it was something positive, because when you had told him this over the phone the night before, you sounded pretty nervous, but wouldn’t reveal any other details

He drove into the parking lot of the cafe, instantly recognizing your car in the parking lot, making him smile

He found you at your favorite booth, looking down at your phone, until you looked up and smiled as you saw him walking over

He loved your smile, it was always so bright and beautiful-but something about it was different today...you almost looked nervous

He doesn’t pay too much attention to it, you did say you had news for him after all, maybe you just had some jitters

“Hey, sunshine, how are you?” He asks cheerfully, bringing you into a tight hug

“Well that’s strange,” he thought-you usually always squeezed him super tight, but today you almost kept him at a distance, like it hurt to hug him

He pulled away, staring at your face in worry-“You doing alright, babe?”

You shrugged off his worry quickly, not wanting to bring attention to it-“Oh it’s nothing, just-well, my chest has been a little tender but it’s fine,”

He knew something more was wrong, but as much as he wanted you to say what it was, he knew you’d tell him in your own time

The rest of the date went as your dates usually always went, you both talking happily about your lives with Mirio making you laugh occasionally

He did notice some things were different about you-you seemed to be really cautious of what you ate, asking if anything had caffeine or excess salt in the food. Your face, even when you laughed, was always somehow knitted with nervousness

He also noticed that your chest had been looking a little larger-he didn’t mind at all, he loved your body no matter what it looked like, it was just-strange to him. You also would sometimes rub your hands on your stomach below the counter, thinking he wouldn’t be able to see

It was all so peculiar to him-it made him really wonder what was going on that was making you act so differently

He reached his hand across the table, placing his larger hand in yours

“So-what exactly did you want to tell me?” He gave you a bright, reassuring smile, his heart aching slightly when you looked down at your lap

You looked so scared-were you okay? He started to get nervous himself-maybe something terrible had happened, like you were sick, or hurt

He just wanted you to tell him-whatever was going on, you would get through it together

He gave you a reassuring squeeze on your hand-“You know you can tell me anything, right?” He asked quietly, that bright smile still on his lips “Nothing you say is going to make me judge you or turn away from you-you can always trust me.”

He watched you take a deep breath, your ribs rattling slightly from the nerves

“Mirio-I-I...” you stuttered, “I’m pregnant-with your baby.”

Well SHIT HE DIDNT EXPECT THAT-

He may or may not have yelled out “Pregnant?!?” A little too loudly-he just wasn’t expecting that

After you shushed him to be a little more quiet, he lowered his voice some

“Whoa-pregnany-are-are you sure?”

You played with your fingers, the nerves still set in your system, “Yes, I-I has a feeling... some I may or may not have taken a whole box of tests a few days ago. And-and they all came back positive.”

“I’ve been wanting to tell you, I just didn’t know how or when or where- it was just so sudden.”

“I know we didn’t talk much about starting a family, Mirio, but,” you asked timidly, his hands still in yours, “what do you think about it?”

Mirio sat quietly for a few moments-he knew this was a huge thing, bringing in a child into this world. It was true you two hadnt talked a lot about starting a family, it wasn’t on either of your minds since you two were so young. But, he loved you too much to walk away from you and his child-it would be completely wrong for him to do so. He didn’t want to either-he loved you and this child you two had created.

His rough thumb brushed the skin of your hand, the sensation soothing to your nerves

“It’s all your decision y/n, but I love you-and this child we created. I’m would be excited to be a father!”

Shinsou

Also I’m tired and I’m pretty sure I spelt him name wrong THE ENTIRE TIME IM SORRY

You were wrapped up in Shinso’s body, your legs intertwining with his

His body was warm and comforting, his heart beating strong in his chest

You felt yourself beginning to wake up, soft sunlight flitting through the curtains of the room

It didn’t help either that your leg and inner thighs were killing you-you and Shinso were active quite a lot, but last night had seemed to really become a toll on your body

You groaned, snuggling yourself closer to him-he was so comfortable and gentle when he was sleeping

Shinsou seemed to had woken up slightly too, his hands petting your bed tossled hair

“You doing alright doll?” He asked huskily, he voiced still sounding sleepy

“Yeah,” you sighed, snuggling closer to him, “just-sore.”

“Aww you poor thing-but I didn’t here you complaining last night though,”He chuckled, placing a kiss on top of your head

You pushed yourself up, making yourself able to look into his lavender eyes as you laid your head on his bare chest

“Well I didn’t say that,” you said, giving him a cheeky smirk- “Just you gotta be a little gentle-I still need to be able to walk the next day,”

“Wheres the fun in that, kitten? You look so pretty when your a mess under me...”

Your cheecks instantly turned a beet red, a small smile tugging at your lips

Even though Shinso was making you a blushing mess, you instantly felt an uncomfortable feeling in your stomach, something you had been experiencing for a few weeks now

A burning sensation began to fill your throat, and to your horror, you felt yourself want to throw up

Shinso noticed your face pale as it turned from adorably embarrassed to terrfied

“Are you-“ he barely got out until you leaped off his body, stumbling to the bathroom

You barely got near the toilet before you began to empty the contents of your stomach into it

Shinso quickly followed you in, throwing on a pair of his boxers he had left on the floor from last night

His heart hurt hearing you sound so sick, your back heaving into the toilet-he softly grabbed your hair, rubbing soothing circles on your back

He was just so confused-you had seemed fine...you didn’t show any signs of being sick yesterday or last night-so why were you suddenly just throwing up like there was no tomorrow?

You finally had finished, laying your forehead on the cold seat

“What’s wrong doll-you okay?” He asked softly, brushing your hair with his fingers

You nodded numbly, feeling dehydrated and exhausted

“This has been happening-kinda a lot...” you croaked out, trying to clear the parch areas in your throat

Shinso stopped you from talking anymore, worried you would hurt yourself and went to go get you some water

He came back with a blanket and a bottle of water, you drinking in small sips as you sat on the blanket

“So-this is happening a lot, right?” He asked, watching to make sure the color came back to your face, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You nodded your head numbly- “I-I was scared to tell you...because-well-“ you sighed nervously, looking down at the floor-“I also missed my period last week.”

It took Shinso to let that information set in-you missed your period? Why the hell would that matter? But then he began to connect the dots...you two had sex quite a lot....you were having morning sickness...you didn’t get your period-oh shit

He states it very bluntly, but stutters slightly over his words-“Your-your pregnant?”

“I-I don’t know for sure Shinso...but I have a feeling, just everything adds up to that,”

He’ll curse under his breath, sitting for a second in silence-that was such a huge piece of information for him to process

A baby was a big deal-you two were bringing in a new life into this world...he would be lying if he didn’t say he was terrified. It wasn’t under the best timing, you two never discussed having a child so soon...but he loved you. It was as much his baby as it was yours, and he would never just walk out of yours and his potential child’s life just because he was too scared.

He would do anything for you-that included welcoming this new child into the world with you

“Okay, I believe you y/n,” he’ll finally say, his bright purple eyes boaring into yours, “we’re having a baby. Let’s figure this out together, alright, kitten?”

—————-

HOLY CRAP THIS TOOK FOREVER SORRY

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