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braindeadbaddie · 3 years

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The Ghosts That Haunt Us

I know you hear me when I cry

I try to hold it in at night

When you’re sleeping next to me

But it’s your arms that I need this time

Chifuyu bites his lip, trying to swallow down the sobs that threaten to climb out of his throat. He grabs a pillow, stuffing his face into it and biting to muffle all the sounds that threaten to leak from his overflowing heart.

The pillow is stained with his tears, his body shaking in silent sobs, and from the ghost of a cold cold body that he once held in his arms years ago.

Besides him, he can feel Takemichi twitch awake, shifting to wrap an arm around him. He feels him hesitate before settling his arm across his waist, pulling him into the warmth of his embrace.

God, what a terrible boyfriend he is.

Up late, picturing a black sea and a grey sky, when he has the warmth of the sun and a bright blue sky right besides him.

But he can’t help it.

Tonight, he misses Baji.

Tonight, he needs him.

Look at the cards that we’ve dealt

If you were anybody else

Probably wouldn’t last a day

Every tear’s a rain parade from hell

He loves Takemichi.

Their relationship isn’t laced in beauty or innocence. It was originally a partnership bred from the need to save the future. But he’s understanding, and kind, and always there to help. He’s sweet and dedicated, fiercely loyal, and so so loving.

They sought comfort in each other because they understood each other. Better than anyone else.

He knows Takemichi doesn’t blame him for the days that he can’t reciprocate his love, because his heart is somewhere else. He knows Takemichi understands more than anyone why he can’t share his food sometimes. He knows that Takemichi understands, better than anyone.

Mistakes were made and there were casualties of Takemichi’s battle against time, and even though they managed to find a future where everyone could be together, the ghosts of the past still haunt them both.

But sometimes, he wonders if their love is born out of necessity rather than true love.

Baby you do it so well

You’ve been so understanding, you’ve been so good

And I’m putting you through more than one ever should

And I’m hating myself cause you don’t want to

Admit that it hurts you

Chifuyu knows it’s hard. He cries over Baji often.

The night of his birthday and the day of. The week of Halloween, the days before when he didn’t have his friend. Sometimes, he cries when he sees a black cat or a stray. He cries on dates they had made special memories of.

Some days are a light rain, other are storms that flood.

Chiufyu thinks that he must only exists in tears and in numbness. There are days he can feel, so all he feels is pain, and days where he can’t, so he feels nothing.

Takemichi seems to be able to handle it so well. But Chifuyu knows. He knows this is too much for him to bear.

Takemichi already saved the future, so he should be able reap the fruits of his labor.

And yet here he is, fighting a losing battle to save Chiufyu.

I know that it breaks your heart when I cry again

Over him

I know that it breaks your heart when I cry again

‘stead of ghostin’ him

Takemichi, more than anyone, hurts seeing Chifuyu cry. And yet, he has to deal with it the most.

He feels the most guilty, the most responsible. Because he knew and he still couldn’t do anything about it.

Chifuyu sees it in Takemichi’s eyes when he wakes up with a start after dreaming of black and grey, and red. So much red. The look in Takemichi’s eyes, screaming that he shoudn’t be here. That there should be someone else.

Someone to go to the pet store with him every morning. Someone who helps him fight his battles. Someone who will split his yakisoba with him. Someone named Keisuke Baji.

And Chifuyu wants to comfort him and tell he loves him and loves having him around.

But it feels pointless when his tears later that night wash away all his words.

We’ll get through this, we’ll get past this

I’m a girl with...a whole lotta baggage

But I love you, we’ll get past this

I’m a girl with...a whole lotta baggage

On good nights, Chifuyu will lay his head in Takemichi’s chest, curled into his side, letting him run mindless patterns into his back.

Takemichi tucks his head under his chin and whispers sweet nothings to him.

On those night, they feel like a normal couple, instead of a pair cursed by time.

Though I wish he were here instead

Don’t want that living in your head

He just comes to visit me

When I’m dreaming, every now and then

Its hard to count the amount of times Chifuyu has woken up screaming another man’s name.

But the nightmares are so frequent, it’d probably be easier to count the times he didn’t.

In his dreams, he’s always a first-year in middle school, walking through the hallways to find a nerd who can’t spell or write properly. So he helps the poindexter write a letter and in return, he gives him a friendship with so much love that it’s enough to last his whole life.

And in the dream, he spends so many days on the floor of his or the other boy’s bedroom tutoring him and teaching him all sorts of things. And they play with stray cats that come through the boy’s windows. And there’s so much peyoung yakisoba. And at the end of his dream, he’ll get to hold him at night, and he feels warm…

…until the warmth starts to feel wet too.

And suddenly he’s back in a junkyard, holding the boy he loves as he bleeds out.

Helpless and useless.

So he screams.

And after all that we’ve been through

There’s so much to look forward to

What was done and what said

Leave it all here in this bed with you

“Thank you,” Chifuyu whispers into the dark bedroom.

Takemichi gives him a confused look. “What for?”

Chifuyu draws patterns into Takemichi’s chest. Tonight is a good night.

“For saving me. I can’t even imagine what I was like in that first future. I probably didn’t have anyone to rely on, y’know. In Toman, I’ve only really been close to you…and well…y’know.” He doesn’t want to say it, lest he break the peaceful spell his mind has cast on him today.

Takemichi tightens his arm around Chifuyu. “Ah, well. You don’t have to thank me. I just did it to get out of my apartment. I’ve been stuck there like every future.”

Chifuyu chuckles, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend’s torso, and rests his head on his chest. He breathes in Takemichi’s body wash and the scent of lavender from their detergent, counting his heart beats.

He’s still here. He’s still alive.

Cherish him.

“Thank you for saving me, for saving all of us,” he whispers as he turns to look up in his beautiful blue eyes.

There’s a flash of sadness in Takemichi’s eyes, before it’s replaced quickly. He smiles softly, though it seems a bit forced around the edges.

“It’s the best damn thing I’ve ever done,” he whispers before planting a soft kiss on his forehead.

Baby you do it so well

You’ve been so understanding, you’ve been so good

And I’m putting you through more than one ever should

And I’m hating myself cause you don’t want to

Admit that it hurts you

On the days after bad nights, Takemichi makes breakfast. He developed cooking skills at some point in this future, he tells Chifuyu.

But on those mornings, he can badly stomach anything so Takemichi will make him a smoothie and pack a light bento. He makes him fresh green tea that warms him up, and turns on the diffuser mixing eucalyptus and peppermint.

He kisses Chifuyu on the head, never on the lips. He gives him a tight hug and whispers “have a good day”, never I love you. He tries so hard to be a friend, like he knows he isn’t the one Chifuyu loves on those days.

I know that it breaks your heart when I cry again

Over him

I know that it breaks your heart when I cry again

‘stead of ghostin’ him

They both have ghosts that haunt them.

Takemichi’s exists on high rise buildings, in truck crashes, and a building in another country with no ceilings.

There are nights that Takemichi wakes up screaming Hina’s name or Mikey’s name or Akkun’s name. There are even days where he screams Chifuyu’s. There are days where the pots will bang together and Takemichi will collapse in fear. Takemichi avoids fires, loud noises, and lives his life as if he’s apologizing for living.

On the rare occasions he’s opened up to Chifuyu about those other futures, they’re usually about the first one, the one before he ever time-leaped. He opens up about how pathetic he was and how he was always apologizing.

And even though he’s a lot more sure than the man-boy in his stories, Chifuyu can’t help but think that old habits die hard.

We’ll get through this, we’ll get past this

I’m a girl with...a whole lotta baggage

But I love you, we’ll get past this

I’m a girl with...a whole lotta baggage

Takemichi takes care of Chifuyu so well, it almost seems like he’s apologizing.

For Baji, for not being Baji, for not being able to time-leap again to save him.

For being here when he feels he shouldn’t be.

He doesn’t ask, but he can suspect that there was a future where things went really bad for him and Takemichi feels responsible.

He doesn’t ask, because Takemichi won’t tell him the truth.

That this relationship is all just one big apology. That Takemichi’s love for him is just one big savior complex. That all of this is out of a sense of responsibility.

#chifuyu matsuno #takemichi hanagaki #angst #Chifuyu x Takemichi #do they have a ship name?#keisuke baji #bajifuyu angst #mentioned #hinata tachibana #manjiro sano #tokyo revengers akkun #i forgot his name #tokyo revengers angst #why do I keep making Takemichi suffer?#so sorry takemichi #Tokyo Revengers #tokrev #Spotify #takefuyu

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iam93percentstardust · 3 years

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First of all, Happy Birthday Month!!! Many happy returns!! I have been reading fanfiction for e very long time, but this is the 1st time I have ever submitted a prompt. I kinda think Stuckony would be great but I am down with Winteriron or Stony, wherever the prompt takes you. You're amazing so I know it's gonna be fantastic! Thanks in advance!💜💜💜 “Is that your robot?” “That’s a rude way to talk about my husband.”

This was such a fun prompt to write, thanks for sending it in! And thank you for the birthday wishes!

As always, everything I write is also on ao3

Something taps against Bucky’s foot. At first, he ignores it, figuring someone just bumped into him, but then it happens again and then for a third time. He looks down, fully expecting to see a small child, only to see a small gold and blue robot run into his shoe, back up, and then run right into it again. It looks a little like an atom with a central core and three rings spinning around it in multiple directions. He smiles at the oddly charming behavior and bends down to pick the robot up, wondering if it came from one of the many glittering exhibits he and Steve have walked past today or if it belongs to someone.

“Hey, Stevie,” he begins, thinking to share it with his husband, but when he looks around, Steve isn’t anywhere near him. Bucky sighs and turns in a circle, hoping to spot him somewhere in the packed crowd. Who knew the Stark Expo would draw so many people on a Tuesday in the middle of March? “Stevie, you’re too small to wander off like this.”

He feels a tug on the hem of his coat and then a small voice primly says, “Excuse me, Mister Sir, that’s mine.”

“Huh?” He looks down again, this time to see a young girl of about six or seven years holding onto his jacket. “Oh! Is this your robot?” he asks, crouching down to her level.

“That’s a rude way to talk about my husband,” she informs him, holding her hand out for the robot.

Bucky blinks at her. He’s heard about kids playing pretend with their toys but that’s usually things like Legos or dolls, right? Not a whirring, circular robot that doesn’t even have a face.

“Can I please have Jarvis back?” the girl asks, insistently tugging on his coat again.

“Oh, sure, sorry about that.” He passes it back to her and then looks around, hoping to spot the girl’s parents before she realizes she’s left them. He’s dealt with plenty of upset kids at the school he and Steve work at, so he’s more than capable of handling any meltdown she might have, but he’d like to stave it off if he can. Unfortunately, he doesn’t spot anyone frantically looking for a lost kid, so he’s just getting ready to resign himself to dealing with a crying kid when Steve appears from out of nowhere.

“Hey, Buck, sorry about that, got sidetracked by one of the exhibits. The person works with sand and sound to make art, it was really—” He stops short at the sight of the girl hugging her robot. “Bucky. You didn’t pick up another stray, did you?”

“Excuse me?” Bucky asks, affronted. “I never—”

“No? So what’s Alpine then? Or Dodger? Or, for that matter, me?” Steve crouches down next to the girl and holds out his boney hand for her to shake. “Hey, kid, my name’s Steve. This is Bucky. What’s your name?”

She gives him a suspicious look, but must decide that he’s safe because she says after a moment, “Morgan.”

“Well, Miss Morgan, why don’t we see about finding your parents?” Steve offers. “It looks like they’ve gotten lost.”

Morgan turns one way and then the other, noticing for the first time that she’s alone. Her lower lip trembles, eyes welling up with big, fat tears. “I—”

Bucky, sensing an impending meltdown, quickly says, “Hey, it’s okay. We’ll find them. We grown-ups are pretty good at getting lost. It’s up to brave kids like you to help us get found again.”

Morgan sniffs, but nods. “I’m here with Uncle Happy,” she says, sliding her small hand into Bucky’s.

“Then let’s find Uncle Happy,” Steve says decisively. “Would you like me to hold your robot?”

She shakes her head, clutching the robot tighter to her. “You can’t take JARVIS,” she says. “He’s mine.”

“Okay,” Bucky says soothingly. “We won’t take him away.” He shares a quick glance with Steve. “Should we start at Lost and Found?”

“If I may, Sirs,” the robot suddenly says in a cool British voice. Steve yelps, jumping away from it. Bucky startles, dropping Morgan’s hand.

Morgan giggles. “Don’t worry, that’s just Jarvis. He’s an artificial intelligence.” She pronounces the words carefully, like it’s something she’s been taught to say. She holds the robot up, who lights up with every word he says.

“The tracker in this device has been activated. There will be no need to move from this location. Sir will be here momentarily,” Jarvis tells them.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Steve mutters, taking a closer look at the robot. “It talks.”

“I am Just A Rather Very Intelligent System or—”

“JARVIS,” Bucky realizes. “It’s an acronym, not a name.”

“Quite so, though I was named for Edwin Jarvis, an old friend of Sir’s.”

“And Sir is…?”

JARVIS lights up like it’s going to talk again but before it says anything, they hear someone say loudly, “Morgan H. Stark!”

Morgan’s face brightens and she turns, running right into the arms of a slender man in a suit, closely followed by another larger man. “Daddy!” she exclaims, throwing her arms around the man, who catches her up in a tight hug.

“What have we said about running off?” the man asks, sounding worried. He has a familiar voice, Bucky thinks. He wonders where he’s heard it before.

“I didn’t run off,” Morgan protests. “JARVIS did and I had to get him.”

“You didn’t think to tell Happy where you were going?” The man gently brushes her hair out of her eyes before straightening up, setting Morgan on his hip.

“I didn’t have time! JARVIS was moving too fast.”

The man makes a dissenting noise. “Flaw in your logic.”

She shakes her head. “No flaw.”

“Yes flaw. JARVIS has a tracker. You, O’ Great and Powerful Maguna, do not.”

It’s adorable watching the two of them together, seeing the way the man softens the longer he holds Morgan and the way Morgan leans into him. And it doesn’t hurt that the man is wildly attractive too: all big brown eyes and curly hair that Bucky wants to feel between his fingers (he bets they’re as soft as they look). Bucky feels something stir in his heart that he hasn’t felt since the day he met Steve. He quickly glances at Steve, wondering if Steve feels the same way. Steve’s eyes could practically be cartoon hearts, he’s melting so obviously, and Bucky smiles to himself. Maybe, if they play their cards right…

“But I didn’t get lost,” Morgan protests and points at Bucky and Steve. “I had Mister Bucky and Mister Steve.”

Abruptly, all the warmth drains out of the man’s expression. He looks at Bucky and Steve coldly, mouth a thin, tight line. “Oh you did, did you?” He turns to the second man behind him. “Happy, could you take Morgan for a moment?”

“Daddy—” But Happy—who looks more like an Angry than a Happy—has already nodded and taken her from the man’s arms.

“You got it, boss.”

The man now stalks closer to Bucky and Steve. “Alright,” he says abruptly. “How much do I owe you?”

Steve’s expression goes blank. “I’m sorry?” he repeats, voice tense with hidden anger.

“What do you want for this?” the man says. “Finder’s fee, something to keep you quiet, what do you want?”

“Look, I don’t know who you think you are—” Steve begins heatedly, right as Bucky realizes where he’s seen this man before.

“Stevie, stop,” he mutters, catching Steve’s arm before he can get too angry and take a swing at the guy. “That’s Tony Stark.”

“Huh?” Steve looks again and then his face clears. “Oh. This must happen a lot, huh?”

Stark glances between the two of them, looking confused now, rather than angry. That’s good; that’s something Bucky can work with.

“Look, we’re sorry about all this,” Bucky says apologetically. “But we’re really not trying to cause trouble. Morgan’s robot ran into my foot, that’s how we met. We didn’t even know who she was until you got here. You don’t need to pay us off or anything.”

“Really,” Stark states suspiciously. “So I’m not going to wake up tomorrow and all the headlines are saying that I can’t take care of my kid?”

“We’re both teachers,” Steve says, gesturing at him and Bucky. “We know kids wander off all the time. They’re more slippery than a bar of soap in the shower. You’re not going to hear anything from us.”

Stark slumps and runs a hand through his hair. He looks tired all of a sudden, not that Bucky can blame him now that he knows this entire Expo is being run by him. “Sorry,” he says quietly. “You just can’t be too careful in this line of business.”

“I can imagine,” Bucky says soothingly. “If it would help, we’d be happy to sign an NDA.”

“Pepper would probably kill me if I didn’t ask you to,” Stark admits. He sighs. “Great, first time I contact her since the divorce and it’s about my fuckup.”

“You’re not a fuckup,” Steve insists. “Seriously, this happens all the time. Just last week, I had a kid decide he wanted to keep looking at the snails in the Botanical Gardens we took the kids to while the rest of us went to lunch. Took me an hour to find him.”

Tony gives him a hopeful look. “Really?”

“Really. It’s okay. You’re not a bad parent.”

“I’ve just—I’m supposed to be presenting in—” He checks his watch.

Happy shouts, “Five minutes ago, boss.”

“It’s my presentation, I think they can wait for me if I’m running late. Morgan didn’t want to wait while I was prepping so I asked Happy to take her to see some of the exhibits. I didn’t think she’d wander away.”

“Well, hey, we’d hate to make you any later,” Bucky says. “So we’ll let you—”

Morgan pipes up, “Daddy, can’t Mister Bucky and Mister Steve come too?”

“Well—”

“They were so nice,” she says, making her eyes big and wide. “And I think we should be nice and let them watch.”

Stark smiles helplessly at her. “You know what that is? That’s extortion.” He turns to Bucky and Steve again and shrugs. “Do you want to come? It’ll be backstage, so you won’t get to see as much as you would if you were watching from the front. But it’ll be fun, I’m presenting the new arc reactor. Oh—and please, call me Tony. We’re all friends here, no need to stand on formalities.”

Steve and Bucky have one of their silent conversations that always bothers their friends. “Are you sure?” Steve asks. “We wouldn’t want to be a bother.”

Tony gives Bucky a very obvious onceover, followed by a look at Steve, just as obvious and just as hungry. “Oh yes,” he murmurs. “I’m sure.”

“Then we’d love to,” Bucky says, giving Tony a onceover of his own. He and Steve don’t often invite a third partner to their bed, but there’s just something about Tony.

“Great!” Tony chirps. His eyes go dark and heated as he adds, “And maybe afterwards, we can talk about a way to pay you back for helping Morgan out.”

“Tony, really, we don’t need anything,” Steve begins.

“Please,” Tony purrs. “I insist.”

#alle writes #alle answers #stuckony #if you like please consider reblogging #chellibean86

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brockadoodles · 3 years

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kiss me at midnight - m. tkachuk

AN: The way i can’t WAIT for the season to start so I can gif short haired Matty... Anyways. uh, I woke up today and chose violence, so here’s a New Year’s fic with one of our favorites. Maybe one day I’ll stop posting at 1 am? Let me know what you think!

Word Count: 2395

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and drinking, otherwise it’s fluffy.

“Ten dollars says they’re going to make out within the next five minutes.” You quickly turned your head at the voice. You smiled slightly at Matthew, nodding at him to take a seat next to you. You had just met him that evening and had somehow ended up running into him multiple times throughout the night. You laughed softly at his statement as you swirled your rum and coke in your hand. You didn’t even have to look in the direction that he was pointing toward to know exactly who he was talking about. Your roommate had ditched you in favor of his teammate over an hour ago, and in her defense, he was cute and better one of you not to spend New Year’s Eve sulking alone at the bar.

“I give them three, you’re welcome to hang out and wager me on it.” You joked. Matthew eyed you curiously, anyone that was willing to make a bet with him that quickly was someone he wanted to get to know. He caught the attention of the bartender and ordered himself a drink. He glanced over at your near-empty glass and had another made for you, making sure to tell the bartender to add it to his own tab and not yours. Your friend had very clearly left you to your own devices and he had no intention of doing the same thing, the least he could offer is buying you one drink. You just smiled at him in thanks as another rum and coke was put in your hands to replace the now empty one.

“Would ya look at that, guess neither of us wins.” Matthew mused as he took a sip of his drink. You quickly turned your head to where your roommate was now pressed against the pool table, kissing his teammate. You rolled your eyes before turning your attention back to Matthew, who was inarguably cute. No harming in shooting your shot with someone you likely wouldn’t see again in a crowded bar in Calgary on New Year’s Eve, right?

“Bummer. To think I was going to bet you a New Year’s Kiss.” You shrugged, raising your eyebrow a bit toward Matthew, who now had a smirk settling in on his features. He leaned against the bar as he took a step closer to you, positioning his body between your thighs. It wasn’t uncomfortable, you actually found yourself smiling softly at him as you placed a hand on his waist and tugged him slightly closer to you, opening the door for whatever would come next.

“Me and you at midnight? Deal.” You rolled your eyes at him and pat his side, pushing him back just enough to give you some more room. The conversation started flowing after that, and you found yourself getting lost in the stories he was telling. Something about Matthew was captivating. You could blame it on his looks, maybe the way his eyes lit up when he smiled at you, or the way his hair was just long enough to see that it was a bit curly, or maybe it was the way you were sitting close together now, with his leg brushed against yours under the table that you had moved to an hour before. But deep down you knew it wasn’t just because he was some hot stranger who you were hopefully stealing a midnight kiss from, you and Matthew had a connection that you couldn’t quite explain further than it being what everyone describes in shows that you never bothered to believe in. You could only hope that he felt it, too.

Except, he must not have, because when the clock counted down and you prepared yourself to finally kiss him, he just held you close. Matthew tucked you under his arm as the crowd started cheering and he made no move to kiss you, something that even in your drunken state was causing disappointment. What you didn’t know was that he wanted to kiss you more than anything that night, but he wasn’t about to cross a line you had drawn while drunk. He wanted to make sure it was okay before anything happened, so instead, he settled for a soft kiss to your forehead and exchanging numbers as he put you in an uber back to your apartment. Leaving you drunk and confused as if you had just read the signs entirely wrong.

You spent the next 11 months with Matthew, spending nearly all of your time together. You went to his games, you met each other’s friends, you spent nights with each other and there were so many frustrating pent up moments where if someone would have asked you what you were to each other, you genuinely would have had no answer. Matthew frustrated you in ways that you couldn’t pinpoint because his signals were caught up in the crossfires and you weren’t sure what you meant to him. You knew he cared about you, and sometimes his hand would linger just a bit too long on the small of your back, or he would fall asleep with his arms just enough around you that you would convince yourself that he felt what you had felt for him the entire time.

You spent months dancing back and forth with Matty, replying that New Year’s Eve night over and over in your head, wondering why he never kissed you. Then you spent months to accept what he was giving you, a friend that cared about you and would do anything for you, but one that simply didn’t harbor the same feelings you held close to your chest. You couldn’t fault him for not feeling the same way, feelings sometimes don’t have a rhyme or reason as to why they happen. Sometimes the hand you’re dealt results in a win, and other times you bet your entire heart only to watch it get cashed out by someone else who didn’t care to have it in the first place. But you had spent a year waiting around for him, and at this point, you just needed to know.

Matthew answered the phone quickly when he saw that it was you calling. He had just gotten back from a small get together with some of his friends from back home. He smiled softly as he greeted you, breathing a content sigh of relief as he settled down into what would likely be a long chat with you. You were Matthew’s favorite person and even though he hated being on the phone, he’d talk with you for hours about nothing if that was what you wanted.

“Do you know how there’s that saying about how if you spend New Years with someone, that’s who you’re spending the year with?” Were the first words out of your mouth, acting on a stint of courage that your friends had practically shoved into you the entire time you were with them. They all wanted you and Matty to get your shit together and confess, and you’d be lying if them pressing you wasn’t a factor in this impulsive late-night phone call to the person in question.

“Yeah, I have heard that one.” Matty smiled into his phone.

“I have this theory. I think it’s actually that who you miss the most on New Years’ is who you’ll spend the year with.” You were glad this was just a phone call and that matty wasn’t there to see your face. You had been dancing around something with him for so long now, that it felt like you were stuck in an endless game of poker where no one was winning. But you were the dealer now, and you were giving Matthew the cards that would give him a royal flush if he wanted it, and god you hoped he wanted it.

“You’re going to need to explain that, sweetheart.”

“We spent last New Years’ together, and you didn’t kiss me. We spent an entire year together and you didn’t kiss me, but there’s something here right? Because I feel like there is, and even though you’re in St. Louis and I’m here all I want is for you to miss me just enough that you’ll come home and finally kiss me.”

Matthew swore that he felt his heart lurch in his chest as he processed your words. You, the person he had spent the last year getting to know, spending nights together on your couch watching bad reality TV and arguing over what take out to order. You, the person that he thought about more often than not, so much so that he had made a routine of calling you after every away game, just because it was calming to hear your voice on the phone. You, the person that he had so desperately wanted to kiss the year before but didn’t because it wouldn’t have been right with both of you too intoxicated to make that decision. He had spent the last year assuming that you thought of him as just a friend and he had been sulking about it for months.

“Holy shit, I didn’t think you were into me.” Was absolutely not the most eloquent way that he could have responded to what you had just said. Matthew internally groaned at himself as he listened to the silence that was now coming from your side of the conversation. He was panicking, racking his brain for the right words to string together to make sure you knew he felt exactly the same way as you did. For some reason, just telling you that didn’t feel good enough when you had just about taken his heart right out of his chest from another country away with your confession.

“Fuck, that was not what I meant to say.” He ran a hand over his face, and he was thankful for once you had asked to just talk on the phone and not FaceTime.

“I really miss you. And everything you’re feeling, I feel it too.” He finally settled on it, hoping that it was enough to convey his emotions. He knew he wanted you, he had waited a year for this moment to come to its head. A year of him subtly standing by your side, itching to reach his hand out to yours but not daring to make the final touch. A year of him hoping you wouldn’t meet someone else that could take up the space that he desperately wanted to occupy. He spent a year waiting for you, he wasn’t going to wait any longer. Before he could stop himself he grabbed his laptop, pulling up flights as you started to speak again.

“God, Matty, there have been so many times I almost told you how I felt.” You breathed out. He could tell exactly how you were feeling, he could hear the relief in your voice. He knew that type of relief, the instant gratification a person feels when they give someone their time and effort and it’s all reciprocated. He knew that feeling because as soon as you mentioned you wanted to kiss him, he felt that same relief settle into his chest, a feeling he had been craving for so long now. A feeling he could act on in a matter of hours thanks to a ridiculously over-expensive flight from St. Louis back to Calgary.

“Can you pick me up tomorrow morning? From the airport?” He asked. You froze in bed, pulling your phone from your ear and looking at the time. It was late, already past midnight which meant it was even later for him. Your heart was racing and you felt like this was some hazy dream that you were bound to wake up from disappointed, the same dream you had experienced probably a hundred times over the last year. Matty was your entire world, and it didn’t feel real that he was finally something tangible. So you told him yes. You told him, yes and you counted down the hours until you got to see him, barely sleeping at all.

You had never been the type to think you’d be standing outside of security at an airport, living out some terrible moment from a romantic comedy as you waited for the person you loved to come through the gates. But there you were, in one of his old sweatshirts, nervously tapping your foot as you eyed every single person that walked through.

You were totally sure that anyone watching you probably was rolling your eyes at the look on your face, the same lovesick look you see in the very movies you often complain about. But you didn’t care because strangers walking through an airport clutching their coffee at 7 am who you would never see again didn’t matter. Everyone had their own destination that day, their own trip that they were making for their own reasons, and your reason was walking toward you, looking at you like you were the only thing that he could see and that was what mattered.

Matty dropped his bag to the ground as you jogged up to him. You wrapped your arms tightly around his waist and tucked your head against his chest, taking a moment to listen to the steady beat of his heart, the same steady beating that you had listened to so many times before not knowing that it beat only for you.

“I’m going to kiss you now because I’ve been waiting for a year to do it and I don’t think I can handle waiting any longer.” Matty grabbed your cheek, pulling your gaze up to meet his as his other arm tightened around you.

“You can kiss me whenever you want now, Matty.” You murmured, letting your eyes flutter closed as you leaned in and pressed your lips lightly to his. You melted into the kiss, letting him pull you closer to deepen it just a little as the early morning travelers kept walking around you. You almost didn’t regret the time spent wishing for this moment, because in a way, the person you spent New Year’s with the year before was the person you spent the year with, and now you got to spend another year with him, being fully and completely each others. It wasn’t midnight, but somehow 7 am felt better than midnight ever could have.

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk fic #matty tkachuk imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic #flames imagine #why do i keep doing this in the middle of the night

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valwentinefics · 3 years

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First Impressions - Helmut Zemo x Reader (Pride and Prejudice AU) Part 1

The news of a new inhabitant of Netherfield Park has your family excited to meet the rich and single man Mr. Barnes at the upcoming ball. While there you come face to face with his friend, the Sokovian Baron named Helmut Zemo, who seems like he’d rather be anywhere else.

A/n: First part woo! This part was mostly based on the 2005 movie, the next part will follow the book more. I also won’t be doing such accurate lines in the future unless you guys tell me you want me to, I just felt like I should in this to set things up better. I’m also just slapping in marvel characters where I can, I hope you guys don’t mind!

Series Masterlist

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife. This opinion was held by the community for the newest inhabitant of Netherfield Park, despite not knowing his opinion on the matter, and the mothers in each of the surrounding families had their hearts set on ensuring that one of their daughters would be the one to stake their claim on the man.

Your chilly hands held a weathered book as you entered the small house, abandoning the crisp and fresh spring air for the warmer indoor air that always seemed to smell slightly of flour. You often read outside while walking, a way to enjoy your hobbies of walking and reading as well as relax in the quiet spring air without your often giggling horde of sisters to interrupt your thoughts as they were doing now.

Your eyes looked to the group of girls gathered outside the door to your father’s study, ears pressed against the wood. You gently bonked your sister Natasha on the head with your book when you saw her straining to hear whatever conversation was happening in the room.

“It’s not polite to eavesdrop Natasha.” You scolded your older sister who’s beautiful face turned to a pout at your words. Although you were only the second child you often felt as if you were the oldest.

“Y/n this is different! Mother says Netherfield Park has let at last. It has a young, wealthy, and single inhabitant!” She protested, making you hesitate your retort.

Normally you were not one to indulge in your mother’s gossip about men, but the news piqued your interest. It was no secret to you or your sisters that your family was not doing well when it came to money. With your father aging more by the day and a cousin you hardly contacted set to inherit the property and everything on it once he died, things were not looking good. It was due to this that your mother was frantic when it came to setting up her daughters with suitable husbands. You sighed and pressed your ear to the door, knowing your mother was likely to attempt to set you or one of your sisters up with this newcomer, you were hoping to figure out some things about him before she did.

“How does his fortune affect our girls?” You heard your father, Mr. L/n, ask. You knew he knew the answer, your father was an intelligent man, he just found great enjoyment in pushing at your mothers buttons.

“Mr. L/n!” Mrs. L/n’s exasperated cry could be heard clearer than anything else that had been said earlier. It was as if she wanted the whole world to hear of her plights. “You know it matters because I intend to marry one of them to him!” Marriage seemed to be the only thing on your mothers mind, it was as if she was put on the earth for the sole purpose of getting you and your sisters a husband with good connections.

“Does the man get a choice in this?” You could hear your father chuckle and you had to bite back your own.

“The odds are in our favour with the amount of daughters we have, he very well might fall in love with one of them, which is why you must go see him at once!” Mrs. L/n pleaded, earning a sigh from Mr. L/n.

“You and the girls can go, or you can send them by themselves. Perhaps the latter will work out better, for you are as handsome as any of them. This Mr. Barnes may like you the best of the party if you are in attendance.” He flattered her. You knew it was a mix of sincerity and a way to distract her from her nagging. If nagging was something people could compete in, your mother would likely be world renowned for her skill.

“My dear, you flatter me. I have had my fair share of beauty, however it is nothing extraordinary now.” Mrs. L/n paused for a second before seeming to remember her mission. “But Mr. L/n, You must visit him! Think of our daughters!”

The door opened, causing your sister Peggy to nearly fall to the ground, caught by your other sister Carol. The greying Mr. L/n smiled at the group of girls gathered outside the door before walking past them, chased by Mrs. L/n.

“Mr. L/n! Mr. L/n! Are you listening to me?” She called out as she followed him.

The older man paused, turning around to look at his wife and daughters who had followed them both. “I don’t see why I must go visit Mr. Barnes for a second time.” A sly grin spread onto his face.

“A second time?” Mrs. L/n gasped. “Oh, how could you tease me? Have you no compassion for my poor nerves?”

“On the contrary my dear, I have the utmost respect for them. They are my old friends, I’ve dealt with them countless times over the years.” He teased, earning an eye roll from his wife.

“Will he be attending the ball tomorrow?” Spoke up Sharon, excitement clearly shown on her face as she looked at your father expectantly.

“I believe so.” Mr. L/n replied, sitting down and watching as your sisters exploded with joy, chattering loudly about what they would wear and pestering him with questions about what the man was like.

You couldn’t help but smile and find yourself excited for the event. It had been a while since you last attended a ball and you looked forward to looking good and getting to see the strange new man. Netherfield Park was an amazing property, and you had heard many good things about the library of the place. The new tenant Mr. Barnes was likely to be an avid reader because of it, and if he was perhaps you could find a friend in him.

A friend was all you were interested in. Whenever the topic of marriage came up you found yourself zoning out, much to your mothers dismay. Men were either too cocky or too daft, and always too easy to figure out. You wanted someone with substance, someone intelligent enough to keep his cards close to him, whose character you couldn’t figure out as easily as the rest. It would take characteristics like that for you to even begin to grow interest in a man, and even then only the deepest, truest love could persuade you into the chains of matrimony.

The jovial air of the ball made a smile appear on your face as you stood in the corner of the room with Natasha and Wanda Maximoff. Wanda was your very close and trusted friend despite being seven years older than you. Your mother often would go on rants about how you would end up just like her, an unmarried burden to your parents at twenty seven, but you ignored it. Your eyes were trained on the dancing people, your foot slightly tapping to the sound of the music until it suddenly stopped. Your attention snapped to the entrance of the room, spotting three newcomers, two men and a woman.

“The man with the blue eyes is Mr. James Barnes and the woman is his sister Miss. Rebecca Barnes.” Wanda explained, noticing you and your sister’s confusion. Her father had brought her family to Netherfield to introduce themselves earlier.

“And the man with the bad attitude?” You asked, examining the man accompanying the two. He didn’t seem too happy to be here. He was extremely put together, not a hair out of place and his posture exuding importance. His brown eyes looked around the room, making those who they landed on wonder what they did to deserve the piercing look.

“Baron Helmut Zemo.” Wanda explained. “He comes from Sokovia, rumors say he owns about half of the country.” Your eyes hardened, assuming his reason for being so unimpressed with being in the room must have something to do with his wealth and not wanting to be around so many common people.

“The miserable half of Sokovia clearly.” You scoffed, unable to rip your eyes from him. He would have been attractive if not for the ill temper he seemed to have.

Wanda and Natasha laughed at your comment, the music soon resuming once the group made their way to the other end of the room. You couldn’t help but stare at them, your attention mostly on Baron Zemo as he spoke to no one, despite the Barnes siblings who he had come with mingling with others.

You felt a hand grab your arm and you turned your head to face the person, realizing it was your mother. “Y/n, come, I must have you and Natasha introduced to Mr. Barnes.” She said, hauling you away to the other side of the room as you gave Wanda a pleading look, although you knew she could do nothing to stop your determined mother.

“These are my daughters, Natasha my eldest, and Y/n the second. I have others but they’re already dancing.” She introduced you and your sister. You looked at the group, taking great effort to stop yourself from staring at the Baron, instead examining Mr. Barnes.

Mr. Barnes was certainly handsome with his dark looks. He was well built, clearly a man who went outside quite a bit, and his striking blue eyes were filled with kindness but had a small darkness within them, despite that you read him as a kind and gentle man who worked past his past mistakes. His eyes stayed primarily on Natasha, and you couldn’t blame him. Natasha was always the most effortlessly stunning sister, but when it came to balls where she put effort in her appearance, she blew everyone away.

“Mr. Barnes, are you liking it here in Hertfordshire?” Asked Natasha, her eyes stayed on him as well. You allowed yourself to glance at the Baron while the two conversed, finding the man standing still and talking to no one, instead looking away from your group and watching the dancing crowd with an unreadable expression.

“Very much.” He replied. You turned your attention back to the conversation to not appear rude, Mr. Barnes was giving your sister a charming smile.

“I’ve heard the library at Netherfield is one of the finest in the country.” You added to the conversation.

“It fills me with guilt, I’m not a very avid reader.” You had expected this from his athletic stature. “I prefer being outdoors. I mean, I can read, and I’m not saying you can’t read outdoors.” He began to ramble, seemingly embarrassed. Despite his kindness he didn’t seem to be too good when it came to socializing, either that or Natasha’s beauty was distracting him as he hadn’t taken his eyes off of her even when you had spoken.

“I wish I read more but it always seems as if there's other things to do.” Natasha spoke with a smile, saving Mr. Barnes from his awkward state.

“That’s exactly what I meant!” He smiled, making Natasha smile in response. You knew they would get along well which would delight your mother.

You felt the warmth of someone's stare, turning your head to see Baron Zemo looking at you. Your eyes locked with his deep brown ones for a few moments, wordlessly trying to figure him out. You heard Mr. Barnes ask Natasha for a dance, and she accepted, leaving you with the Baron.

“Do you dance much, Baron?” You asked, hoping to ease the tension between you two by initiating a conversation.

“Not if I can help it.” He looked away, not seeming to be too pleased with being spoken to. The awkwardness of the moment threatened to consume you. You silently watched your sister dance for the duration of the song before heading to Wanda once it ended.

“What’s wrong?” She asked

“Baron Zemo is a dreadful conversationalist. He seemed so irritated with me just asking him a question, I can’t stand-” You were cut off with a shush, Wanda gesturing to where the Baron and Mr. Barnes were standing nearby, not noticing you two.

“I’ve never seen so many beautiful women in one place in my life.” Mr. Barnes spoke to his friend.

“You were dancing with the only beauty in the room.” The Baron replied with a scoff.

“She was gorgeous, but what about her sister? Y/n I believe was her name. She seemed intelligent, she asked me about the library. Maybe the two of you would be a good match” He nudged the Baron who sent him a look. Their dynamic was odd, and Y/n couldn’t help but wonder how such a kind man became friends with a man like Baron Zemo.

“She’s tolerable, but isn’t handsome enough to tempt me.” He replied, the two walking away to where Miss. Barnes was. You didn’t care about Baron Zemo’s opinion, but you couldn't help but be offended at his remark.

“If he liked you, you’d have to speak with him. Count your blessings Y/n.” Wanda tried to cheer you up.

You forced a convincing smile. “I wouldn’t dance with him for all of Sokovia anyways, let alone his miserable half.”

Your joke made Wanda laugh, but your insecurities began to creep through. You had to forcibly stop yourself from dwelling on the Baron's words. He was pompous and judgmental and not worth your time. You looked over to him briefly and saw him looking unimpressed with everything around him. Was that really the man you would let spoil your fun night? He was the most disagreeable and unpleasant man you’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting, and you couldn’t stop yourself from wishing you would never have to encounter him after this night.

You stood up, determined to make the best out of the night, and headed to find a partner to dance with. You didn’t want to give the Baron the honour of haunting your thoughts. However, it was hard to keep him out of your mind when as you got in place to dance you felt the prickling of his stare on your back.

Taglist: @killeromanoff @ay0nha @thesuitkovian @pedropascallovebot @trelaney @hibiscusgardenia @dxnxdjarxn @naivara-duneimith @hiraethmaximoff @farihafangirls @aisling1985 @literatureandqueen let me know if you would like to be added or removed!

#zemo #helmut zemo #helmut zemo x reader #zemo x reader

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fighterkimburgess · 3 years

Text

Burzek Appreciation Week Day 2: Favourite Domestic Moment. If 8x05 had gone slightly differently.

—

It was the quiet of the night, and Kim woke to Adam’s low snores. His arms were wrapped around her, they were lying on her bed, and all she could think was just how right this felt.

They were always good at sleeping with each other - this time making sure contraception was taken care of, the unspoken knowledge neither could cope with a miscarriage - and this proved it. It was two hours since they’d gotten into bed, and Kim’s legs still felt like jelly. She was sore and had that familiar but uncommon ache between her legs, and she’d remember this every time she moved today. Not that she was complaining.

She loved him. She felt safe with him. They’d been fighting and arguing and trying to work out what to do separately, but lying here felt so right. Like it was where she was supposed to be. Like every night she could curl up beside him, his hand in her hair as her cheek was on his chest, the little hairs tickling her cheek. Adam’s other hand was covering her shoulder, and normally when anyone touched her scars she would cringe, hide away and cover them. Instead he made her feel safe and cared for.

It hit her like a bolt of lightning. He was her soulmate. He was the man who put her first, no matter how bad things had been between them. The man who gave her the best orgasms of her life, who knew her body better than nearly she did. Who held her and loved her and protected her. Who blamed himself when she was the one who’d lost their baby. Who’d made her feel better when she wanted to be yelled at, wanted to feel the same pain physically and emotionally she was feeling mentally.

He was the man who had slipped her a small business card for a therapist who dealt with child loss. Who’d smiled when she told him she’d made the call. Who that night when they were on her couch, her legs in his lap as he gave her a foot rub celebrated with her as she admitted she didn’t blame herself as much anymore.

And as the thoughts went through her head she realised. They were in a relationship. They were dating. He was her person and she loved him and she couldn’t let this fall away from her again. She couldn’t let him slip from her grasp.

That morning as they got dressed she stayed quiet, unsure of what to say. They were late for work, stopping for coffee, when she decided to bring it up.

“So is this part of our relationship now? We’re accepting that every six months or so we sleep together?”

“Or we could try the version where we sleep together on the regular. Y’know, dating?”

She could feel the tension as he said it, and Kim reached her hand across to take his.

“I think I’d really like that.”

The rest of the day was a blur, seeing Makayla again and that snap decision. But standing in that garage, Kev’s words running through her head, she had to say it.

“I know we’re barely even a thing yet. And I know we’ve got so much to talk about. But Adam…we lost our baby. And it was awful, and traumatic, and terrifying. But this girl needs someone to be on her side. And I think I…I think we can do it. And if you don’t want to that’s ok, but I think I need to do it. I need to make sure she’s ok. She trusts us.”

“Ok.” His word was quick, looking straight at her. “I don’t know what this will involve. I don’t know how we’re gonna do it. But we put her to bed and we slept at the end of that bed to make sure she was safe. So if you’re jumping in, I’m holding your hand on the way down so we can make sure she’s ok.”

They walked out hand in hand, Kim crouching down to Makayla who was looking at them, Adam’s hand on her shoulder.

“I know there’s been a lot of big changes, but we were wondering if you wanted to come home with us? We could be like a family, and take care of each other. If you’re ok with it, that is.”

Makayla nodded, holding her hand out to Kim who took it, Adam being handed the trash bag containing the six year olds belongings.

“C’mon, hop up and we can go home.” They got her into the car seat that had been placed in Adam’s jeep, buckling her in and getting in themselves.

Kim relaxed slightly as they sat in, Adam’s hand on hers. It was terrifying and insane to even consider, but it just felt right. And there was nobody she’d rather do this with than Adam.

#burzekaw21 #Kim Burgess #Adam Ruzek #Kim x Adam #Adam x Kim #kim burgess x adam ruzek #adam ruzek x kim burgess #Burzek #makayla ward burgess

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doubleleoenergy · 3 years

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v. Blinding Lights, The Princess and the Pogue Series

I've been on my own for long enough. Maybe you can show me how to love, maybe.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, mentions of drug use, mentions of addiction, mentions of suicide, mentions of drinking, swearing

Summary: The events from the weekend bring JJ and y/n closer.

Words: 1820

Notes: I apologize for this coming out this morning, I fell asleep on my laptop last night editing so...here it is!

The first rays of morning light hit JJ’s window, sending beams across the room and onto his face. He groaned instinctively, covering his head with a pillow, a slight headache from the night before lingering and making him groggy.

He was aware of his actions from the night before, and did he regret them? Absolutely. He knew he fucked up with Y/N, bad, but he also couldn’t help it. He had never been in a long-term relationship before, he’d never let things get farther than a casual hookup before with anyone. Ad he had never actually liked a woman long enough to see potential with her, not until he had met y/n. Well, not that they did or did not have potential, that was all up to the game of life. And an apology would be necessary if they were to move forward with even a friendship at that point.

JJ rolled out of bed and onto his feet, his door creaking as he opened it up and peaked around the hallway. John B’s door was completely open, with him and Sarah nowhere in sight. That was probably for the best, he knew if they were there, he would just feel too prideful to apologize.

Stepping out into the hallway, he walked out and into the living room, finding y/n sound asleep on the couch still. The sun shined through the windows, covering her body in a warm beacon of light. She looked angelic, and she was. Y/N was everything JJ felt he didn’t deserve in a woman, and he still had no idea why she even hung out with a Pogue like him.

He leaned back against the wall, admiring the way her body was curled up, her lips slightly parted and her tangled hair framing her face. She was still dressed in her clothes from the night before, having passed out on the couch soon after they’d arrived at the Château. JJ kept his gaze on her for a few more minutes until her eyes fluttered open, blinking away the sunlight and rolling onto her back.

It took her a moment to realize JJ standing there, the hurt from the night before resurfacing as she covered her eyelids with the cool palms of her hands. “Take a picture, JJ, it’ll last longer.” She commented. JJ finally removing himself from the wall where he was leaning, moving over to take a seat to her left beside her on the couch. She immediately rolled onto her right side, facing away from him.

“C’mon, princess, you can’t get rid of me that easily.” He teased, resting his head against the back of the couch. She groaned at the nickname, pulling the blanket over her head.

“Actually, I can. You can fuck right off, JJ Maybank.”

Her tone made JJ frown, not realizing just how badly he had screwed up the night prior. “Look, I know you’re upset, but at least let me explain.”

Y/N sat up with her back towards him, looking around on the floor until she found the backpack she had stuffed with her clothes and toothbrush, picking it up and ignoring him as she headed to the bathroom. JJ was hot on her heels, only stopping when the door shut in his face.

“Y/N, please.” He pleaded, leaning his head against the door as he spoke. Y/N rid herself of the clothes from the night before, tossing them into her bag before slipping on the tank top, jeans, and cardigan she had packed for the day.

“You can’t just ignore me forever. At least let me apologize.” JJ sighed, hearing the water running in the sink on the other side of the door. “I’m fucking sorry, okay? I just got caught up with drinking and the weed and dancing with you and I didn’t know what to do. I thought you wanted me to kiss you, I figured that was why you were dragging me out where no one could see us.”

Y/N abruptly opened the bathroom door, causing JJ to stumble forward, catching himself on the doorframe before he could fall. She passed by him as he caught himself, pulling her hair up into a bun on the top of her head. “You think I’m upset because you kissed me? I was going to kiss you, dumbass.” She admitted, crossing her arms over her chest as she sat back down on the couch.

“Well then, what’s the problem?” He questioned, walking down the hallway and stopping at the end, afraid that if he sat beside her, she’d just get up and walk away again.

“The problem is that you kissed me and then acted like it didn’t happen when we caught up with John B and Sarah.” JJ recalled the events of the night, remembering how he pulled away from her to walk back to where John B and Sarah were standing. He remembered making a joke to John B as to why they were in the woods, lying to him about the fact that they were kissing.

“Well, shit, I don’t know, y/n. I just…I panicked, okay? We have this rule: no Pogue on Pogue macking. You’re part of the Pogues now and I…” JJ sighed, running his hands through his blonde locks. “I don’t know how any of this works. Whenever I’m into a girl it’s just based on hooking up with her. It’s never anything serious. I have a fucked up way of thinking, alright? Is that what you want to hear?”

Y/N looked up at him sadly, meeting his gaze before she reluctantly motioned for him to sit on the cushion beside her on the couch. JJ followed her motions, sitting beside her and leaving some space between them. They sat in silence for a minute before JJ continued.

“Look, my mom left my dad and I when I was young, and my dad blamed me my whole life for it. He was addicted to drugs and used to beat the shit outta me whenever he felt like it. I never grew up understanding a healthy relationship, or sharing feelings, or really any of that shit.” He looked down at his hands, opening and closing them as he spoke. “I’m sorry, I wanted to kiss you, I mean, who wouldn’t? You’re the fucking best, y/n; you’re smart, funny, and incredibly beautiful. And for some reason you like hanging out with a fuck up like me.”

Y/N shifted to look over at him, a small smile on her face as he talked about her. “You’re right, I am pretty great.” She teased, easing the tension and making them both laugh. “You’re not a fuck-up, you know that, right? You can’t control what happened with your mom and dad. I was so young when my dad killed himself, but when I grew up and watched my mom drinking, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was my fault. The truth is you can’t blame yourself for the way others react to situations. Life is shit, I mean, we don’t even make it out alive after all the bullshit we go through. It’s not worth spending your whole life blaming yourself for the actions of others.”

Her words are comforting, soothing JJ down to his core. She made him feel less messed up, like he could be someone better, like he deserved better than the shitty cards he was dealt in life. JJ’s eyes flicker to her lips, leaning closer and closing his eyes before the moment is interrupted by the sound of a car horn honking outside.

“Shit.” Y/N cursed, pulling away from the intimate moment they were having and standing up off the couch. She pulled her backpack to her shoulder, looking out the window at the familiar Dodge Durango. “That’s Bailey, I texted her for a ride home when I was in the bathroom.”

JJ tried not to look flustered, scrambling to his feet and running a hand through his hair again. “I’ll walk you out.” Y/N opened the door, walking out onto the screened in porch before stepping outside while JJ walked silently beside her. She watched her sister’s expression as she looked between the two, raising an eyebrow as she smiled mischievously at y/n.

“You must be JJ.” Bailey noted, rolling her window down and resting her arm on the open space.

“Yeah, it’s uh-it’s nice to meet you.” JJ held out his hand for Bailey to shake, receiving a firm handshake from the woman, glancing back to where y/n stood.

“It’s nice to meet you finally, y/n won’t shut up about you.” Y/N’s cheeks flushed a bright red, her eyes widening as she wordlessly pleaded with her sister to shut up.

“B, don’t we have that place to go?” Y/N questioned, hinting at her sister to play along with her lie after having just embarrassed her.

“Right...yeah, get in kid. It was nice to meet you, JJ. I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of you.” Bailey watched as y/n walked to the passenger door of the Durango and opened it, Y/N lingering in the doorway. JJ followed her, holding onto the top of the door frame.

“I’ll see you at school tomorrow, yeah?” She asked, biting her lip as she looked up into JJ’s blue hues..

“Yeah, sounds good. It was nice meeting you, Bailey.” He gave them both a salute before heading back into the Château, y/n hopping into the passenger seat of the Durango and shutting the door behind herself.

Bailey backed out onto the road, a sinful smile on her lips. “I can see why you like him; he’s tall, muscular, and those eyes are like staring into the damn ocean.” Bailey hissed when y/n smacked her arm as she drove, y/n letting out a huff of breath as she stared over at her older sister.

“You just had to embarrass me, huh?”

Bailey shrugged, stopping at a stop sign on the road before making a left in the direction of their home. “Mom would’ve done the same if she was here, you know that. Like she did for that boy who took you to your eighth-grade formal.” Y/N smiled at the fond memory of her mother, one of the better memories before her mother’s drinking had gotten worse.

“...Yeah, mom definitely embarrassed me much more than you just had. And that was before I even thought about kissing boys.” Y/N agreed, biting down on her bottom lip and looking out the window. She still didn’t know how JJ felt, he had been leaning in for a kiss, but what was to say he wasn’t going to pull away again or shrug it off as an ‘in the moment’ gesture. Her thoughts are clouded with the what-ifs of her and JJ’s relationship as they drove home, the lingering sounds of the radio playing softly in the background as she replayed the past hour repeatedly in her head.

Tagging those who may be interested. Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged/untagged: @midnightf, @serendipityrogers, @fuckandfluff, @eireduchess, @calisamcro, @moniamaybank, @astrydis, @sokovianheadtilt, @blackwiddows, @matbarzalschain, @bigassnocash, @sspidermanss

#doubleleoenergyseries: The Princess and the Pogue #series: the princess and the pogue #the princess and the pogue outfits #jj maybank #outer banks #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x fem!reader

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writersrealmbts · 3 years

Text

Diamond Tears and Little Wings: Part 5

Description: You’re a fairy, taken in by BTS. You need lots of love and care, otherwise your light will fade and you turn to stone. Between the seven of them, you should never feel unloved. Right?

Warnings: N/A

Posted: 02/11/2021

Tags: bts x reader, ot7

Angst/Fluff/Angst: 3,846 words

A/N: Okay, I told you guys that I would be alternating between DTLW and Clearwater Springs, so here’s the proof. Anyway, two more parts after this!

Your fourth home in five years is what they told you this was. But you couldn’t remember any but this one.

So your heart was aching, and you always wanted to cry, but you never dared to do so. Something, someone’s, words, telling you that crying in front of strangers was dangerous kept echoing in your head. So you blinked away any tears that came, hugged your stuffed animal, and studied the area you would lived in.

It was a little cold, so you hugged your coat tighter to you. You’d been told by the other fairies that your coat was special, because it appeared to be designed exactly for your wings, which was rare. But none of them seemed to have any idea why you would have such a special coat, excepting the fact that maybe in the country you came from it was more normalized to have custom wing-slits.

It was completely normal to come away from a home with a stuffed animal, and clothing and jewelry that could shrink down. People liked dressing up fairies.

You played with your bracelet as you examined the cement floor, and the plain white walls, and the windows that weren’t quiet fully insulated but were full east and full west, respectively, and provided quite a bit of natural lighting. You had your own bathroom and kitchen area, and the laundry room was in the basement. The bed was a bit creaky, but the mattress seemed decent. You had a cute lamp on the side table, and they had a few books for you on a bookshelf that had the bottom shelf broken beside the side table.

There was shoebox bedroom on one of the shelves as well, very simple, with just a bed in it, but it was decorated carefully—though perhaps by their daughter. There was felt covering the floor and back wall, which would provide a little insulation for you. The outside was colored on, but you didn’t have a problem with that.

There was an old rug rolled off to one side that they said you could use, and a bar with some hangers already hanging on it and plastic drawers they said you could used for your clothing.

You looked at your suitcase, which was resting on the bed, then set your dog on top of it while you got the rug, unrolling it and placing it near your bed.

Your job there was to do their laundry and take care of the cat that their daughter wouldn’t let them get rid of, and to entertain their daughter now and then, and when you weren’t delivering the clean laundry or entertaining their daughter you were to stay in the basement bedroom. Simple enough.

The cat was a sweetheart and the laundry was quite simple with only three people to wash for. Laundry was tossed down the shoot daily and every Monday and Thursday you were to deliver their clean laundry before they awoke.

They weren’t cruel, or strict, just very structured and busy.

She was very kind and brought you groceries, even getting you exactly what you requested. You just had to leave a list with her laundry on Mondays, because Mondays were grocery days. She even spontaneously bought you a cake, and when you told her that the basement was a little cold for you, she found a nice heater for you that greatly improved things, and found some more blankets around the house for you. They were generally gone over the weekends, visiting a different set of grandparents each weekend, which left you and Cupcake, the cat, alone in the house to do as you pleased.

Those were the days you ventured down to the fairy market, which was a safe space for fairies and since you did get an allowance for doing the laundry, you could sometimes buy some special treats or things that you needed.

You weren’t a fan of the husband, which was fine, because he only seemed to come downstairs if he needed to check the water-heater (they were having issues with it and he was too stubborn to call whoever it was that professionally dealt with those things), or to ask you to do an emergency clean on a shirt or tie or slacks. It wasn’t that he was mean, or sleazy, or that he gave you bad vibes, he was just very grumpy and brisk. Cold.

And he hated the cat.

Plus you had the distinct feeling that if he found out about your diamond tears it would be a very bad thing. He was a greedy man, raising a greedy daughter.

But you had a CD player now, and you could find CD’s now and then at the fairy market, and the wife said you could use any CD’s you found in the basement.

Which was how you found your current favorite CD. You weren’t certain who the artists were because the disc hadn’t been in it’s proper case, but their songs were so nice. And you loved the one song.

So some days, when you had nothing to do but give the cat all the love it wanted, you just listened to that CD on repeat, singing words as though you’d known them before.

You did different crafts, and solved some of the abandoned puzzles from the storage room.

You improved your shoe-box, replacing the bed (it was a sponge, hard and weird to lay on) with a carefully arranged nest of fabrics and stuffing. Sometimes you stuck your stuffed dog into the shoebox and snuggled into that. The smells on it so familiar and foreign that it made you cry.

Which meant you had to find a place to hide your tears. Normally you just saved them and exchanged them at the fairy market—where the currency exchange fairy, Heidrun, just discretely nodded and added their value to your shopping card balance.

But one day she stopped you before you could leave, holding your hands. “You don’t look well, dear.”

“Fourth home,” You told her simply, shrugging. “It’s more of a job than a home. But I’m not…I’m not suffering. She always makes sure I have what I need and allows me a lot of freedom. I have the whole basement to myself, and I’m allowed in the side-yard at all times. She even encourages me to come here. And I have music to listen to. Actually, I found a CD I really like, but I don’t know what band they are because it doesn’t say on the disc.”

“Try Magnus, he knows everything going on in the music scene,” She told you, squeezing your hands. “And trying to hold onto whatever love you’ve got and are getting. It’s not healthy for our kind to go unloved.”

You nodded. “I’ll do that.”

Magnus did help you, granted, you had to sing a couple of the songs for him to find the right group, but once he did, he sent to you over to Frida with a request for BTS albums.

Frida nodded, pulling out several book-like things. “They’re super popular, but they’re also in a ton a magazines right now. They lost their fairy because of some scandal, and now they’re in a slump, but they’re also going on a world tour, so it can’t be that much of a slump. They’re actually coming to our stadium for a concert, which is cool. They’ve started putting up the posters already.”

You looked at the books, confused. “I thought you said they were albums?”

“They are. The CD’s are accompanied by a booklet of photos and the lyrics, photocards, and usually a poster.”

You blinked then picked up the biggest one, concerned and confused. “It’s…huge…and a box?”

She just snorted. “You want that one? It’s one of their more recent ones. Don’t have their newest yet, but I can see if I can get one for you.”

You nodded. “That’d be nice, but sure, I’ll…take this one for now.”

She nodded and swiped your card. “All yours, sweet-cheeks. Now, tell me how you get your hair that shiny.”

You grabbed your hair and shrugged. “I don’t know. I just wash it.”

“Not even fair,” She muttered, then turned to a new customer.

You went home after hitting a few more stalls, getting more craft things and some stuff for the kitty, hugging the album and wondering what awaited you inside.

Cupcake was waiting for you on your bed, sitting up and meowing loudly, stretching out a paw for you to take (which you did because why else teach him that trick) and then purring and arching into your hand.

“I know, I was gone for forever,” You scooped him up after successfully setting everything else down. “I bought some new music for us. You need a better name. A masculine name. You don’t respond to Cupcake anyway—not that I blame you. It’s a rather poor choice of a name for a cat, much less a tom.”

He just purred, climbing up onto your shoulders and riding there while you put away the few food items you had purchased and hopping onto the fridge while you started cooking your dinner.

You hummed as you tried to think of a different name for him, but after a moment you paused, wondering what song it was you were humming and why it was so familiar and yet so distant. So easy, but you couldn’t remember. You couldn’t remember the moment you stopped singing what the words were or how the song went, despite having reached the chorus. You could only remember the last words you sang.

You shook your head and went over, quickly opening the box to where the disc was in the album without seeing any sign of the pictures (Maybe a poster?) and then popping it into the player.

But it was worse than the first one, because you swore you knew each song. You had vague images in your head of people performing the songs. It hurt. It hurt to hear these songs because they were too familiar. Too familiar and yet so completely foreign that it was unfair.

The first one wasn’t too bad, but the second started really getting to you.

By the third song you were in tears.

By the chorus of the fourth song you were full-on sobbing on the bed.

The fifth song clashed so much with the sentiments of the previous two that it just broke you down further, and you had to turn it off before you started screaming at the empty space where the music should have come from.

You grabbed the photos from the album box after you had calmed down enough. Not bothering to try and remove the sticker, you slide the photos out and started flipping through the pages, horrified at the fact that they looked so achingly familiar and yet you had no idea who they were.

You tossed them back in the box and slammed it shut, eyes filled with tears.

But you must not have woken when someone came into the basement, because three days later the man was demanding to know where you got so many diamonds.

And fairies can’t lie.

Five days later you were staring out the window, a place you couldn’t go until you filled the box on your small counter space with diamonds. It wasn’t too large, but it was large enough that you were worried about whether you would ever fill it.

So you turned on the disc again, and cried. Cried until you were sick, and then collapsed into your bed. Exhaustedly petting the cat until you fell asleep, only to repeat it the next day. And the next.

When you finally filled it, you went straight to the market just to get some time away from the basement.

The shopkeepers from your regular stops came rushing up when they saw you, even Heidrun, all asking where you’d been and if you were okay and before you knew it you were sitting at one of the picnic tables with some soup and some tea and a bunch of worried fairies fussing over you.

Frida sat silently across from you, looking concerned but ultimately staring at the table.

Or so you thought, because she suddenly reached across the table and grabbed your bracelet. “Where did you get this?”

You blinked and tried to recoil, but couldn’t. “I don’t remember. I just figured it was from one of my previous homes.

Magnus frowned, looking at it. “It looks a lot like the one that…”

She nodded. “There’s something etched onto them. Fairy craftsmanship. Come over to my shop. Come on.”

You followed her, curious, and not wanting to let something you had a very strong attachment to out of your sight.

First she tried a jeweler’s eye loupe, then she wrinkled her nose and grabbed a flashlight, shining it through the gems and onto the table.

You stared down at it, confused.

“Something tells me your family didn’t give you up willingly,” Magnus said, voice a little tense.

Frida looked at you, as though she couldn’t believe it. “You’re the fairy that was taken away from BTS?”

You just looked back at her. “Um…is that what all of that means?”

“How did you like that album you bought?” She asked, eyes narrowed to slits.

You shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to think about how much you had used it to make yourself cry, because if you did then you knew she was right. And if she was right, then it would be even sadder.

“Weren’t the one that said that they couldn’t have been too sad about losing their fairy to be going on a world tour? Why would I want to be her?”

“No, they talked about it…it’s because they’re trying to find her. Find you. They didn’t say it explicitly because they could get in trouble for that, but they’ve hinted at it and there are tons of reports and pictures of them visiting every fairy sanctuary they could without compromising their performances. It just took a while for it to hit the news for us. Y/n, they’re looking for you. And if this is any proof, I think they love you and you need love. You look like a skeleton with skin.”

Heidrun gently pulled you into her arms. “What changed? You were doing alright and then you were gone and you come back looking like a ghost.”

“They found my tears,” You whispered.

She inhaled sharply, not quite a gasp, and held you tighter. “You can’t stay there.”

“I can’t leave there either. Where would I go? I would just get arrested and brought back to them.”

Frida folded her arms. “Leave it to me. You go back, lay low. Maybe try to appeal to the lady of the house. I’ll have you out of there as soon as I can. In the meantime….”

“I’ve still got a backlog of your diamonds, come get them just in case he asks again.” Your arm was gently pulled toward the currency exchange station.

You took the bag, and the treats most of them packed up for you. If the love of other fairies was enough to sustain you, you never would have been in this mess. But fairies, while kind and caring, didn’t have enough love for other fairies to keep them alive, especially once exposed to the love of a family. Fairies were good, and kind, and helpful, but also emotionally unstable which made it hard to focus enough love into one another without a consistent source of outside love.

It was a miracle your species had survived as long as it had.

Cupcake greeted you, meowing pathetically and hopping into your arms.

You sat down on your bed with him. “Let’s think of a new name for you.”

Eventually you settled on Keyowo, which was close to his current name but meant friend and was just…it was better.

You then set to deep cleaning over the next week, shrinking your things and tucking them into your suitcase to keep them out of sight.

On Tuesday he beat you to tears because you weren’t producing tears fast enough.

The album caught your eye again on the next Friday.

You picked up, tracing the seven on the cover, and then opening it. You pulled out the poster and unfolded it.

They were in white, with feathers floating down and a hole in the floor. They all looked so good.

You touched the one on the far left, wearing the sweater. Slightly cat-like facial features. You felt like you knew what his hands looked like, even though you couldn’t see much of them in the picture. Slightly calloused, bony, but gentle and careful. Caring for everyone.

“Yoongi,” You whispered, choking up. Tearing up.

Your fingers traced over each of them, names a whisper in your mind. A whisper that turned into shouts, memories flooding your mind of each and every one of them. Your mind screaming for them because your throat was too tight to even whisper.

They were your boys.

They had to let you go.

You weren’t supposed to remember them.

They weren’t supposed to try and find you.

The next day you shoved everything into your bag, tucked the cat into your coat, left a note for the missus and headed straight back to the fairy market.

Frida looked surprised when she saw you. “Whoa, what happened? Is this the kitty your were telling me about?”

“They’re gone for the weekend, that means even if I stay nearby they’ll think I’ve had two days to run out on them. I need you to help me get me back to my family.” You teared up. “I need to find them.”

Frida nodded, glancing around and closing her shop. “Come on. You can stay with me.”

Frida’s family consisted of a pair of siblings.

The sister, Alena, was a fairy rights activist in her spare time, which is why Frida had so much freedom, and a huge music fan. She had a whole wall of CD’s and albums and posters. Stacks of magazines featuring musicians.

The brother, Agnar, was quiet, “just an accountant”, and very kind. And very affectionate toward Frida.

Frida was equally affectionate toward him, bringing a fake gag from Alena.

They helped you find an outfit that hid your fairy-ness, and he got you tickets to the concert, all of you hoping that it would get you close enough for them to see you and recognize that you were there. Also, it would help you health-wise to see them in person and the rush from the concert would be overwhelming, but also might revitalize you.

Then Alena forced you to sit in the bathroom with her while she applied a cloth to your face with epsom salts to try and reduce the bruising and swelling on your face. She told you about the fairy abuse responders, and how she would call them in the morning and tell them about your family.

Agnar totally stole your cat.

Frida let you sleep in her fairy-home (because it definitely wasn’t a dollhouse and it was awesome, of course).

Four days later, you were at the concert venue with Alena, taking a seat and soaking in the atmosphere. People were talking all around and some people were chanting the boys’ names. Another group was starting to sing the songs.

You listened nervously, wondering whether it was true or not that they were looking for you. What if they were just making a fuss to get back at the company a bit? What if the media was making things up? It wouldn’t be the first time a story was fabricated for magazines.

Then the concert started and you and Alena were cheering for your boys, but you wondered why you ever thought they’d be able to see you in this mess.

It wasn’t until the second half of the concert that you had hope.

The boys were in more casual outfits, having more fun.

And they were all wearing the jewelry that Namjoon had made from your diamonds.

Jimin was the one who saw you first, though he looked right over you and then seemed to try and pinpoint you again, but was unable to in the crowd. He stood there with a smile plastered on his face, acting as though he was studying each Army’s face when you knew he was searching for you.

So you stood still in the writhing mass that of the crowd, and studied him.

He had lost weight, and if it hadn’t been for the makeup, you bet he’d look fairly wrung-out.

All of them looked like they’d been sick enough to lose weight.

Taehyung came over and practically dragged him away (making it look playful).

But Jimin said something to Jin and Jungkook.

Jungkook was over there as casually as he could, totally looking at the camera and doing ‘fanservice’. But he obviously didn’t spot you.

Jin didn’t either.

But Yoongi did during the very last song and he stopped, staring, then he was crouched, hand over his mouth, just staring in your direction.

You waved, wondering if he actually was staring at you.

He smiled, but it also looked like he wanted to cry. He waved as well, then cautiously moved off, still keeping an eye on you.

You bit your lip, smiling.

Alena squealed and grabbed onto you, and the two of you did your best to fit in with the rest of the crowd.

Both of you lingered as long as you could afterward, her extremely hyped from the whole concert and talking a mile a minute, while you were feeling…exhausted? All of the emotions around you and finally seeing your boys again….

But you had no idea how you were going to get to them, or how they were going to get to you.

Until you saw Sejin, scanning the crowd.

The likelihood of him being on the side of the boys was pretty good.

You tugged on Alena’s arm, pulling her to a stop.

Sejin locked onto you and started moving, coming your way, waiting until the straggling fans that had been around you were gone before telling security to let you through.

You dipped your head to the security guards, then bowed slightly to Sejin. “Hello.”

Sejin smiled. “Hello, y/n.”

You bit your lip. “I remembered.”

He nodded. “I figured. We all figured. They’re waiting. They’re all waiting.”

You were practically vibrating.

“Come on, let’s get you back to them. Your friend can come but she needs to wait in the hallway for…security purposes.”

You nodded and relayed the information to Alena, then both of you were following back to the waiting room.

Sejin stopped by the waiting room. “Go on in.”

You nodded, putting your hand on the doorknob and then turning it and going in.

–

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Masterlist - ot7 Masterpost

Tagging: @alex–awesome–22, @bryvada, @missmoxxiesworld @subzerobts @forvever-ddaeng @vividwoosan @mischiefmakerliesmith5 @beach-bitch-bitch-beach @minmeowmeowcuddles @kpopfictrash @castlewolfsbane @scatkpoptrash @knjhe @i-dont-even-know-fck @soulphoenix1618 @kerikaaria @sea-nevermind-enthusiast @reinaxans

If you would like to be tagged: DTLW Taglist (please make sure you can be tagged, I’m no longer hunting people down)

#fairy au #bts fic #bts ot7 #bts ot7 x reader #ot7 #ot7 x reader #fairy!reader #namjoon #jin #seokjin #yoongi #suga #hoseok #jhope #jimin #taehyung #v #jungkook

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anonymouslyangsty · 3 years

Note

I would love to hear about Taka secretly being the murderer instead of Toko!!

HEHEHEH I now have an excuse to talk about the Brainrot. Also gosh. This is real long. And kinda just a string of thoughts, though no more so than usual I guess. I got into this one

First and foremost, we got to establish how close to the Toko/Syo situation Taka would be in this case. For the sake of simplicity, we'll say it's another situation of Taka and Ishida being separate personalities, just like with Toko and Syo. I think there's definitely merit to them being the same person, but I'd have to think that over since...well I've never thought of this concept from that mindset before.

Let's consider Taka not knowing. I like that it's kinda a metaphor to some degree? Because as kids, we all have a very black and white, pure idea of morality and justice. Don't steal from others, don't lie, don't hurt people, ect. And that clear cut morality is very much in line with Taka as a character. He follows the rules! All the time! Even in a death game he'll yell at you for running in the halls. And this morality of his is so pure and simple, to the point of being childish.

But morality is not black and white in the real word. It's complicated, with tons of different factors to consider more often than not. Is it already to steal if you'll starve otherwise? Is it alright to lie if the person you're lying to has bad intentions, even if they are a authority figure? Is it okay to hurt someone if doing so saves others? Morality isn't clear cut and sometimes rules need to be broken. But when we're immature, it's easy not to realize this.

So having Taka not know about Ishida would be representative of this concept of immature vs mature morality. The immature morality, the black and white view, is unaware of the need for complexity. This would be Taka, because Taka seems unable to accept grey morally. His interactions with Mondo reflect that. When he thought Mondo was bad, he was totally bad. He was violent, lazy, and a criminal. When he decided Mondo was good, he was totally good. He was the perfect man, unable to do any harm, let alone kill someone.

So Ishida would be the mature morality, the one who realizes that the idealistic views of the immature morality are just that, an ideal, not reality. Ishida would understand that Taka's belief that, if he can just bring his ideas and morals into politics everything can be solved, is wrong. Corruption runs deeper than Taka's willing or ready to confront. And even with all the hard work in the world, Kiyotaka isn't going to be able to solve everything.

How do you solve society's issues when the avenues to legally solve it are corrupt? Who do you call when the cops abuse the people? When the billionaire has all the judges paid off? How can you uproot corruption when so many politicians benefit from it and strive to perpetuate it?

You can't. And that's what Ishida's there for. Ishi is more of the revolutionary that Taka is, the one who's willing to break the rules to ultimately create a better world to live in.

So yeah. Ishida is a murderer. He kills corrupt authority figures, those who'd would lie and bribe their way out of trouble if he didn't kill them. Because for far too long justice has only affected those who couldn't pay their way out of it. I guess he's kinda a Sparkling Justice kinda situation, motivation wise.

His calling card would definitely be different from Syo's. He'd probably leave a file of all the crimes the politician was executed for. Nobody knows how he gets the info, since so much of it was covered up, but he has it. Along with this, his victims are always decapitated. This is in reference to the French Revolution, where the people rose up and used a guillotine on the ruling class. (I’m sure there’s a more Japanese appropriate revolution I could make reference of, but I don’t know what it is.)

Now actually, how does Ishida get all that info on his victims? Not sure fully myself, but he probably uses Takaaki's position as an officer to his benifit. I'm sure he can get a lot of confidential information by breaking into police files. He has his ways.

Also, it should be noted that someone like Mondo wouldn't become a target for Ishida. Ishida doesn't deal with petty criminals, or even serial killers. He deals with criminals that'll powerful enough to manipulate the justice system to their advantage. Ishida only kills those the law refuses to deal with.

Unlike Toko and Syo, I think that Kiyotaka would be totally unaware of Ishida. I like the idea of Ishida attempting to protect Taka from what he does. Because Taka is everything Ishida fights for; to protect innocence by destroying corruption. So Ishida wouldn't want Taka to know about what he does.

Perhaps fittingly, this isn't exactly a good thing. How can Taka grow as a person, learn to be a leader himself, if he isn't aware of the corrupt world he's getting into? Taka does need to evolve into mature morality, but Ishida won't let him in his desire to protect Taka. Ishida keeps Taka innocent and naive, which isn't always a good thing.

Moving on, I want to talk about backstory for this AU. It's basically the same. Toranosuke's corrupt in his actions as Prime Minister, probably cheating many out of their livelihoods and ruining lives in the process. He's eventually found out, leaving him and his family in dept. As far as I know, Toranosuke never serves a prison sentence. I don't know why he didn't in canon, but I'm going to say he bribed his way out of it in this AU.

And all of this is...upsetting to Taka to say the least (I'm going to say Taka's like 8-10 at this point) . Because even if his father tries to hide it from him, Taka's aware of the fallout of what his grandfather did. The thousands who were cheated, the workers left jobless, the safety violations that were ignored. He knows what his grandfather did was wrong. And everybody, from the news reporters, to the people on the street, to even his own teachers, say Toranosuke should be imprisoned for what he did.

The situation is terribly unfair. Why should everyone hate him because of what his grandfather did? Why should his dad have to work all day just because of Toranosuke? Why isn't his grandfather in jail if he did so many bad things?

Kiyotaka is a passionate boy, and while he's well behaved, that level of passion wouldn't be easy for a 10 year old's willpower to contain. I think that eventually the stress of everything becomes too much. The constant bullying at school, the fact that he never sees his father anymore, the fact that his mother left them after grandfather got in trouble. It's all a lot for a child. And Toranosuke, the man behind all that heartache, is still there. An old, withered man, just laying in bed while everyone else suffers for his mistakes.

It's not fair. It's not fair that the bad guy gets away with it, and Taka hates his grandfather so much for it. Perhaps if Toranosuke had spoken to him, had said anything in explanation for what he'd done, Taka could've dealt with it better. But he didn't, so Taka didn't.

I think Taka eventually does something drastic. It's not planned or calculated in any way, more like a child having the worst possible meltdown. Perhaps he pulls out his grandfather's life support, or he smothers the man with a pillow. Either way, Toranosuke Ishimaru dies at the hands of his grandson, a young boy who couldn't handle the stress the world put on him.

And Taka's horrified when he realizes what he's done. Because he just killed someone, someone who had hurt so many people, but someone nonetheless. And regardless of how angry Taka was with his grandfather, he honestly didn't mean to kill the man.

So Taka does what any terrified child would do. He runs as far away as possible, with absolutely no plan. And it's days later before anyone finds him and brings him home. He's completely catonic when Takaaki finally finds him.

Taka's fingerprints being on the crime scene wouldn't be suspicious, since he lives there and is in charge of taking care of Toranosuke while Takaaki's out. So it wouldn't be hard to assume someone came in, killed Toranosuke, then cleaned up any evidence before leaving. After all, Toronosuke was dead for hours before Takaaki returned home.

It's possible that Takaaki knows what actually happened. I mean, Taka's still Taka. He'd probably confess what'd happened once he's less catonic. But, regardless of if Takaaki believes the confession, he sure as hell isn't going to accept it.

It’s the only time Takaaki ever yelled at his son. Not out of anger, but a panicked terror of not knowing if his son was deeply traumatized and blaming himself. or if he was truly guilty of murdering Toranosuke. He makes Taka swear to never say he killed his grandfather again.

And somewhere in the midst of all that issue, Ishida starts being a thing. Perhaps it comes from Taka’s immaturity; his childish views on morality are completely incompatible with what he’d done. And how he’s promised to never bring it up again, but that means that he can’t do the right thing and confess. It’s a horrific contradiction and a horrific situation.

Perhaps Ishida is Taka’s means of coping with that. Taka doesn’t remember what happened on that day, but Ishida does. Ishida carries the burden of that day and, as Taka gets older, all the other deaths.

Does Takaaki know about his son’s vigilantism? Who knows.

Anyway, as for in the death game. I would still say the murderer gets revealed in ch2, but I’m not quite sure how. There’s no way that Taka could tell anyone he’s Ishida (or whatever the media calls this ‘mysterious killer’), since he himself honestly doesn’t know.

I feel like it would be possible for Togami to catch him however, assuming there’s info on his case in the library. When the secrets are passed out, Taka would probably be pretty vocal about his being a “total false accusation”. After all, there’s no way he killed his own grandfather! These so called secrets are clearly just slander, right?

Given how honest Taka’s shown himself to be, Togami might think that’s suspicious that he likely honestly doesn’t remember his secret happening. Which might be enough for him to connect Taka to the string of murders. After all, Toranosuke would fit the bill of the killer’s usual victims.

I guess to get Ishida to front, Togami would have to convince both the class and Taka that he’s the aformentioned murderer. It would be...A very bad time for Taka. Bringing up a lot of repressed memories.

Also, gotta talk about Ishida a tad more! With Toko and Syo, the fact that they have such different personalities is part of the charm. So, it seems kinda lame to keep Ishida as “just Taka but loud and rude” like in canon. Not to mention that Ishida wasn’t made with Mondo in mind, so it wouldn’t make sense.

My first thought is that Ishida is almost the total opposite of Taka. He’s still just as militant as Taka, but he’s far more serious, less expressive. He probably very openly consiters making Togami his next target for the whole mutilating a corpse thing, but decides not to on the grounds that he’s a minor (and also because they’re in a death game and Ishida doesn’t want to risk Taka dying)

Also I’m realizing that, if Togami sets up the killer like he does in canon...That means he cuts off Chihiro’s head….Ew

#Not sure if I'm happy with all the details of this #but whatever #I just think it's a cool idea even if I haven't thought it out fullyl #Taka #Danganronpa #kiyotaka ishimaru #an ask tag

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all1e23 · 4 years

Text

Honey & Whiskey [Pt.1]

Pairings: Alpha!Billy Russo x Omega! Reader

Summary: Falling was sweeter than honey and warm as whiskey.

Warnings: None for this chapter. Typical A/B/O dynamics.

A/N: I know I am your dealer for soft Bucky but I’m trying out some new product. Soft Billy Russo. Just take a little taste. I promise It’s worth it. This is largely a self-indulgent fic and also for my beautiful beta @moonbeambucky. If you like it write me a book report, sing me a song or come scream at me.

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though! Thanks!****

You heard his car in the driveway before you caught the sound of the front door. This probably wasn’t the way to handle something like this. Prominent families didn’t behave like this. They didn’t cause a scene, and they certainly didn’t question a match this good. It was hard enough to find an Alpha that came from a good family, but one who wasn’t a complete knothead and genuinely cared for you? That was next to impossible. You managed to find that one in a million, and here you were pulling a stunt like this.

When you were a little girl, you read stories about the princess finding her prince, being saved from the tower, and living happily ever after in a big castle. So, you waited for your very own to come. You waited and waited by your window, but your prince never showed. You stayed locked in your tower with no sign of a savior. As you became older, you realized you didn’t want to be rescued, taken from one dungeon, and moved to another. You could take care of yourself without an Alpha there to defend your heart and fight the evil queen on your behalf.

Turned out you could handle her on all on your own.

Then you met James one evening at a friend’s wedding. He was sweet. Dark hair, blue eyes, and a charming crooked smile. He offered to buy you a drink and didn’t flinch when you reciprocated with the second. It was easy with James right from the start, and your parents were thrilled. They were simply over the moon. He came from a long line of senators, and his family were members at the club where your father plays golf. Everything was perfect. It was all working out the way it was supposed to, and in one short week, you would be married and bonded to James.

In the two years you’ve spent together, James has done everything he could to make you happy, not once has he abused his authority over you or made you feel as if you were less than him as his Omega. James has never given you a reason to fear him. Everything on the surface was perfect, but if you looked close, the cracks were easy to spot. Your heart had never had cause to race when he was near, and you never did learn what it would feel like to go weak from his touch.

It was doubtful you would ever know what it would be like to tremble from the brush of your Alpha’s fingertips. The odds you would find that love in this lifetime were slim, but if you stayed where you were, there would be no chance.

“Uh, Y/n…’ James stopped in the doorway to your shared bedroom and looked fairly amused, albeit confused by your attire. “What’s going on? Isn’t this bad luck?”

You glanced down at your wedding dress and grimaced. It wasn’t that the dress wasn’t beautiful, it was. It wasn’t you, though. It was huge for starters. Your mother had insisted this was the one from the moment it graced your frame. The skirt was so large you weren’t sure you would make it into the limo Saturday morning, and the bodice and lace sleeves were covered in so many crystals it felt like you were carrying an extra thirty pounds of glitter. This wasn’t the dress you pictured when you spent your days playing princesses in your bedroom, and all of this felt wrong.

You looked back up at your fiance, who was by your side in an instant when he saw fresh tears falling down your cheeks. James quickly wiped them away with only his thumbs. No tender kisses brushed them away, his touch was gentle but not in a way that soothed the restlessness in your soul.

“Do you feel something seeing me in this? I mean, really feel something? Because I don’t feel anything when I put it on. I’ve been trying so hard to feel something, anything but... I don't."

James tossed his keys on the dresser and stuffed his hands in his pockets now that he realized what this was. It wasn’t a simple case of cold feet or some cute moment you were going to bring up at the rehearsal for a quick laugh during toasts. He didn’t look mad, he was disconcerted, and you couldn’t blame him for that.

You didn’t fully understand why yourself, so you couldn’t expect him to.

“Okay. What is this, baby? What’s going on?”

As good and kind as James was, it wasn’t there.

“I’m not in love, and I don’t think you are either.”

The confirmation you needed flashed in his eyes. He didn’t feel it either. You stepped forward and held your hands out for his. James placed his hands in your hands without any hesitation, his fingers tightened around yours the longer the silence stretched between you. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and when his eyes opened again, there was something different about them. They were filled with acceptance and a little bit of relief you knew he wouldn’t want you to see.

“I do love you, and I would take care of you,” James offered as if he was giving you one last opportunity to change your mind. One more chance to do the right thing.

You kissed his cheek and pulled your hand back from his hold, leaving the three-carat oval cut diamond resting in his palm. People lived that lie every day. Your parents, James’s parents, and you wouldn’t be surprised to find out it was the foundation on which most of the marriages you knew were born. Its prevalence among your social status was hefty and typical, but that wouldn’t be fair to either of you.

It wasn't a lie you could spend the rest of your life telling.

“I know, but I want more than that. I want to feel it.”

-----------

“Okay, May. I am out of here,” You chirped. It had been a long, exhausting day. You worked a double shift after one of the other waitresses, an Omega, called out claiming she was in heat, but this was her third heat in four months. It was entirely possible that she was being truthful and not using her designation to get extra days off so she could play house with that Beta she’s been dating since Halloween. Maybe she was a medical marvel, and her heats really did come three times as often as every other Omega on the planet.

All you knew for certain? Your bed was calling your name, and you could not wait to get out of this diner.

“The rush seems to have died down, and I am dead on my feet, so I’m leaving before we get the late dinner crowd, and you beg me to stay.”

“Yeah, yeah. Always complaining,” May teased with a grin and a motherly gleam in her eye. “Take your cut from the tips, and then I want you to eat and get some sleep. You can come in for the dinner shift tomorrow.”

“You gonna clear that with Roger?”

May rolled her eyes at the mention of your boss; Alpha and every bit the knothead prick.

“I’ll deal with him. Don’t you worry about it.”

"Hey, Y/n.” You glanced at Karen, who had a taunting smirk making her pale cheeks flush, she was pointing to the far back of the diner with her order pad, and she mocked with a teasing grin, “Look who it is! Your boy arrived just in time to see you off."

Your eyes followed her bright purple pen, and your knees went weak the moment you laid eyes on him. You didn’t know he was coming tonight. It’s been four days since you last saw his pretty face (not that you were counting or anything!), and you hadn’t realized how much you missed him until that moment. The handsome, dark-haired Alpha was sitting at one of your usual tables and looked uneasy, his leg was bouncing up and down at a vigorous pace, his dark blue hoodie pulled up over his head, and he was wringing his hands together as he scanned the small diner for you -- what you hoped was for you anyway.

"Don't get any ideas about that, Alpha." May Parker huffed.

The older Omega was a little cynical from the cards life had dealt her, and from the second you showed up looking for a job, she took it upon herself to look after you the way a mother would. It wasn't as if your mother had any interest in your life at the moment, not after you embarrassed her and left a black smear on your family’s name. A mark didn’t suffice for the choices you made. Your actions affected everyone in the family, bled onto the very fabric your ancestors stitched together, and made a tear that thread and needle could never mend. Apparently, you should have married even though you weren’t in love and simply found a way to fall in love with James after vows and rings were exchanged.

At least May understood your choice, and you couldn’t blame her for the fire in her eyes and the ice in her touch when it comes to Alphas; life had not been kind to her. Despite losing her true mate at a young age, only to end up with a sad stand-in for the man she lost. He abused his designation and using it to control her and her son. It took years to rid herself of him, but she built a nice life without him. She obtained assistance from an Omega Shelter, went through therapy to break their bond, and even bought a place of her own. Even after all the good that has come over the last seven years, the clouded memories have left her jaded and wary.

"You need to find someone that will take care of you, and he's not it. You stay away from Billy Russo, you hear me? He's not a good Alpha. I’ve known him longer than you have.”

That was true. You’ve only been in the city for eight months and working at Sunrise Diner for seven. Billy was a customer long before you came around, but according to Karen, he would pick up an order to go, barely spoke to anyone, and never tried to get a table. May didn’t know him any better than you did. It wasn’t as if they had some long-standing relationship or history. You were grateful for the advice, but you could make your own judgments.

You’ve let someone else be your eyes and voice for far too long, and you weren’t about to allow yourself to repeat past mistakes.

Billy finally found you standing behind the counter, and the second your eyes locked his own lit up, his legs settled, and the smile on his face just about knocked you over. Your smile widened as you stared at each other for what felt like ages.

"Y/n, are you listening to me?” May snapped her fingers in front of your face, forcing your eyes to focus on her. “He's trouble. Ex-marine with more issues than one person can handle."

You tossed your apron under the register in the black bin that held all the dirty smocks for the night. You glanced at your reflection in the silver napkin holder, resting in the order window and swore under your breath. Your hair’s frayed and sticking out every which way, and your lip gloss faded the first hour into your shift. It was too late to do anything about that now. Not with May watching your every move and Billy sitting so close, his eyes trained on you now that he found you.

Having Billy watch you fix your lipstick because he came in would be an embarrassment you wouldn’t survive.

"That's why he should have someone he can lean on. We are friends. I have a feeling he needs someone that won’t judge him for a past he can’t change.”

"Trouble,” May huffed. “You're asking for trouble."

You practically skipped over to the table Billy sat at. Same one as always. The booth at the far back of the bright restaurant where he had a view of the bathrooms and the front door. He always sat with his back against the wall, and every few minutes, his eyes wandered over to the exit door on his right. You didn’t know what happened, but you knew it was enough to keep him on edge at all times.

"Hey, Stranger."

Billy's near-black eyes looked brighter now that you’re near, and he gave you that toothy grin that made your stomach flip.

"Hey, sunshine.”

Sunshine.

Billy has called you that from the moment you met, you weren’t sure why, but it made your heart race every time it rolled off his tongue. You have to admit you didn’t hate the feeling.

"You haven't been in for a few days. I was starting to think the mac and cheese scared you off."

That wasn’t really true. Though, you did question the state of the mac and cheese on a regular basis. The way the noodles all stuck together in that round ball wasn’t natural. This was more about you than sticky elbow pasta goop. You were slightly worried that he may have started seeing an Omega and would no longer be coming by for these late-night visits. Not that it was any of your business. It’s not as if you’re bonded or even potential mates. You haven’t spent a moment with Billy outside this diner. You had not an ounce of claim on him, and you certainly didn’t have a say in who he spent his days with -- or his nights.

Billy let his hood fall back, and he ran a hand over his buzzed hair. His scars were no longer as angry and red as they were when he first came in on that rainy Tuesday afternoon seven months ago. You can still recite every word he said to you that day like some silly school girl daydreaming about the cute boy in study hall. Some nights you did just that, on evenings when he didn’t come by or stayed far too late and left your heart aching for another ten minutes.

Scars or no, he was still the most handsome Alpha you had ever seen.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that. I, uh, it's been a tough few days is all, and I haven't had a second to come in."

You eyed him for a long minute, and you realized what he meant by a tough few days. More like it smacked you right in the face -- rut.

Did he share his rut with someone?

No. No, probably not.

Billy didn’t seem to give his trust freely, so you doubted he called a Service Center to help him through his rut. That didn't mean he didn't have an Omega in his life, one he trusted enough to share it with. It shouldn’t matter if he did, so why did you want to know so badly? It would be easier if you could simply scent him to find out. That’s what you wanted to do. You were aching to scent him right there in the middle of the damn diner in front of Karen, May, and anyone else that wanted to stare. You wanted to be sure there wasn’t a hint of another Omega anywhere near him, maybe leave a little bit of you on him.

What the hell was wrong with you?

You’ve never been this possessive before. Even with James, you never cared if he came home smelling like another Omega. Hell, you never gave it a thought. Billy wasn’t yours, and you needed to remember that.

"I’m glad you’re back. I missed you."

Billy tried to fight off his grin. He tried hard, but it still showed up brightly enough to make you simper. He must have liked that because his scent sweetened, and it was so thick it had your knees shaking. You stood up as straight as you could and locked your knees. Letting your legs give out over some handsome Alpha like a stereotypical Omega would be a shame you could never come back from.

"Is that right?" Billy drawled, smirking as he took in the tremble in your knees and the honey sugaring your scent.

"Yeah, you're my favorite customer,” you answered with a slight shrug. Billy chuckled and ducked his head to hide the pink spreading from his cheeks down his neck, but you caught the rosy hue regardless.

"Favorite." He recited the word as if he didn't like the way it tasted on his tongue like he was confused as to why you would use that word in association with him.

"Without question,” you assured him.

The hesitation in his eyes and confusion had your heart breaking. Someone along the way, recently or long ago, made him feel as though he wasn’t worthy of being someone’s favorite, of being that important to someone. The thought made your gut clench in the worst way. Billy was more than deserving of that title.

"So, I'm about to get off. My shift actually ended about ten minutes ago. Well, technically, my shift ended at two, not eight, but one of the girls is out making medical history, so here I am."

"Oh,” Billy murmured. He was disappointed, that was plain to see. The light in Billy’s eyes instantly faded, and he began to slide out of the booth. You had a feeling if he left now, he would end up picking tacos off the dollar menu at some fast-food chain, eating all alone back at his place. You couldn’t have that now, could you? Besides, friends have dinner together all the time. Isn’t that what Karen told you every time she had dinner with Frank?

Yes, friends could have dinner together, and it didn’t have to mean more than noodles and cheese.

”I can- I'll go eat somewhere else. I don’t want to keep you if you’re going home.”

You rested your hand on his shoulder to keep him from sliding out past you and shook your head, still smiling down at him. "Oh, no, you don’t. Unless you want to leave, of course. Food here isn't great."

Billy looked up at you, and his eyes have gone dark again, but it wasn’t in the way you liked. He was struggling to figure out what he wanted to say. You could see the moment Billy gave in to whatever it was, he was wrestling with and confessed, “I don't come here for the food.”

Your heart was pounding so hard you swore you could hear it in your ears. No doubt, Billy could pick it up in your scent. You never considered buying suppressants until you met Billy Russo. Then again, there were a lot of things you never considered until you met him. You blew out a shaky breath, and your words came out in as a stuttering mess, "Then… w-why do you come h-here?"

Billy held your gaze but didn’t elaborate further. It was probably for the best. If he had said what you thought could be the reason you might have melted right there at his feet and would have been forced to quit your job citing irremediable humiliation.

"Okay, um, well, I maybe thought I could eat with you? I haven't eaten since this morning, and I've been working all day, so I’m starving."

Billy frowned at that, and he quickly pressed for more, "You haven't eaten all day? So, that means you worked all day without taking a break?”

"Yeah, it happens. Some days it's really busy, and I don't get a second. Roger, our boss, he’s not great at following labor laws. If things get busy like they were today, there is no way he’s letting me take a break.”

If it was possible, Billy’s eyes blackened, and his normal candied scent turned sour. It was a subtle change to the whiskey and brown sugar scent you’ve come to know. He wasn’t on blockers, nor were you, it made his feelings easy to read. You weren’t sure he liked that fact at the moment. The scrunch of his nose and the wrinkle in his brow said he was trying to control his feelings to keep them hidden from you, or maybe he was attempting to understand whatever feeling was jumbled in his head.

“I don’t-- I don’t like that. You should be getting breaks so you can eat. You have to eat.”

You didn’t like it either, but there was little you could do. You had no way to prove that Roger refused to let you take breaks, and it wasn’t like he said he would fire you if you went on break. It only was heavily implied, and he knew when to use an Alpha command, with the tiniest drop in his voice, he had Omegas scampering to do as he wished. Thankfully, you have yet to be on the receiving end, and you had no intention of experiencing it. You needed this job whether or not Billy approved of your break schedule. You couldn’t do anything about Roger or your schedule, but you might be able to fix Billy’s spoiled mood and catch another glimpse of his pretty smile.

"How about you feed me then?" You suggested with a grin.

Billy’s frown quickly faded into a crooked smirk, a gentle chuckle followed, and everything turned sweeter. Whenever Billy was smiling, there was a little more sugar and a little less whiskey floating nearby, and it often left your head spinning for days after. You’ve never been one to fall for a sugar rush over a whiskey high -- until now.

"Okay, Sunshine. I can do that. Do you want to eat here or somewhere else?"

"Where are you most comfortable?"

"Where am I most comfortable…” Billy repeated the question, brows furrowed in thought, and he responded without thinking, “I’m most comfortable when I’m with you."

Billy quickly realized that was not what you meant when he looked up to see your eyes widen. He cleared his throat and sat up straighter as he tacked on an addendum, hoping you would ignore his first admission. "Nowhere that’s loud. Or, um, crowded. I’m not great in large rowdy groups. I need a place I can sit like this. My back against the wall and know my exits."

You knew that already and now you were mad at yourself for making him admit it out loud, but you had to confess not all of his revelation sounded so bad.

"I'll tell you what I live right around the corner. How about you come over, and I'll make you dinner?"

Inviting an Alpha you barely knew back to your place wasn’t the smartest thing you’ve done. Everyone knows, Omegas at least, you never tell an Alpha your address until you’re courting, and you know what kind you’re dealing with. You couldn’t explain why but your heart and your head were telling you to trust him and when they agree on something you listen.

“You want me to come back to your apartment?”

Billy seemed to be questioning your judgment, but nothing felt wrong about having Billy in your home.

“Only if it will make you feel more comfortable. If not, I know a pizza place a few blocks away, but we will have to catch a cab.”

You truly didn’t mind either way as long as Billy was comfortable. He took a few thoughtful seconds before he nodded. “Your place is okay. If you’re sure, you want me to know where you live.”

You grinned and stepped back so he could stand. “Let me grab my purse, and I’ll meet you by the door, okay?”

Billy didn’t have a chance to answer because you were bounding off towards the counter and the group of nosy Omegas watching you both with interest. Billy stuffed his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, watching you share a few hushed whispers with the older woman behind the register.

“You’re leaving together? Y/n, this is not a good idea. Why can’t you stay here together where we keep an eye on you? It would be safer that way.”

“I said I’m fine. I don’t need you to look after me just because I’m an Omega. I can handle myself, and I can handle Billy.”

“He’s not what you think. I only want you to be careful.”

You jerked your jacket out from under the counter and slipped your arms into the black puffy arms. You were already done with this. She didn’t know Billy any better than you did. Maybe she saw some things, or he came off like a typical asshole Alpha once when they first met, but the only conversation they have had revolved around grilled cheese sandwiches and you. You stopped in front of May, and you couldn’t keep the ice out of your voice even if you had wanted to. “Did you ever stop to think that maybe he’s not what you think? I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a good night, May.”

Billy glanced over your shoulder and back at you as you approached. “Everything alright over there?”

“Oh, you know.” You shrugged as you stepped out the door Billy was holding open for you. “Co-worker drama.”

There were tiny bits of moonlight shining down on the sidewalk next to you. It was awkward at first. This wasn’t your normal dynamic. Billy came in and ordered the same grilled cheese and fries every night; not that you could blame him for that, it was probably the only edible thing on the menu. You would make some cute comment about melted cheese and Billy would give you that smile that set skin on fire, he left a tip that was always triple the cost of the tiny sandwich and promised to see you real soon. You knew the risks that came with what you were doing. You are breaking the first rule they teach you in Orientation class, but you didn’t care, and it didn’t scare you.

Billy didn’t scare you.

“You know you really shouldn’t invite Alphas you don’t know back to your apartment. It’s not safe. I could be anyone. I could be some asshole Alpha using that sweetness in your heart to take advantage of you.”

Maybe that was the thing that should scare you -- your blind trust for an Alpha you barely knew.

“No, you’re not, Billy.”

“Yeah? How do you know that, Sunshine?”

Billy was teasing you, the mile-wide grin on his face told you so. You shook your head and matched his smile. The answer was pretty simple, really. It was the one thing missing with James. You felt the tension in your shoulders lift, and you told him the only thing about tonight that mattered.

“I can feel it.”

Masterlist // Part 2

#Alpha!Billy Russo x Omega! Reader #Billy Russo x reader #Billy Russo x you #Billy Russo x yn #Billy Russo #A/B/O au #a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics #alpha!billy #alternate universe

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a-little-slice-of-fandom · 4 years

Note

In response to the Jane ask, I totally agree! Her song, as vague as it might be in the newer versions, is very much about emotional abuse and her realizing/reflecting on it. In the other versions this is arguably even clearer! Besides the list in the first verse, there’s a line in the student run version that always get me, in the second verse after “with out my son your love will disappear”. Usually in the lastest version it’s “I know it isn't fair, but I don't care”, which can be a sign of even tho she knows that he has hurt her at this point, her love will still be there for her son. But the student run it’s something like “you’ll let us fall apart, try to break my heart” which I think is much more powerful in showing more of her self awareness at what would happen to her. Also that opening monologue before about if she was really loved or just checked all the boxes on a list before she could make him angry, she knew that he would be willing to destroy her if she didn’t do as he wanted (Cause Anne wasn’t some death that would never happen again and that only happened cause Jane was there, he was to said to have threaten Jane with the same fate cause of the pilgrimage of grace incident (also well it did happened gain two queens later). Also just a slight unrelated thing, I can sorta understand why people blame Jane for Anne’s death but also not really. It was a whole campaign against Anne, and we only know that Jane was yeah trying to be queen due to influence from her family and others trying make sure she was but I don’t think it’s her fault Henry (and others) decided the best course of action would be to kill Anne. Though I am not a big Tudor researcher, this is only from multiple weeks and hours of searching and learning cause of curiosity and someone could fact check me but that’s what i interpreted the history as. Random rant over) Also the fact (and I’m pretty sure this is true in the newest version), she says “loved” most of the time. The past tense is important there, cause yeah maybe she did truly think she “loved” him. And he may have been the only one she ever “loved” but that cause she probably didn’t get a chance to love someone else (when Henry says it’s you, it’s you after all). This is just speculation though, I can’t assume what a 500 year old historical figure was truly feeling but a character in a show is different and ready for analysis. For that I say that maybe she did “love” him but it easily could have been out of fear or wanting to just deal with the cards dealt to her. But at the end she realizes where she wants her love to be directed towards, and that’s her son and in “Six” her new found family.

And fun fact about her part in “Six” (I kinda learned from something on tumblr but can’t remember who but either way here it is.) it’s 200% about the queens as her family, with her pun at the end being the main signifier of this. “You could perhaps call us the Tudor Von Trapps” is a reference to the Trapp Family Singers, an Austrian singing family (if you see the wiki for them, they are apparently the inspiration for sound of music, Neat!). So from that you would think “oh she’s talking about Henry and her kids with him having a band” but then she says “Just kidding! We’re called the Royalling Stones!”. A Rolling Stones references and they were made by friends forming a band, so that can be associated that the queens are said friends in this case but also part of family that has grown! Also Rolling Stones have a song called heart of stone, seriously this is the most clever joke Jane had during the show and it makes me, a pun/joke lover, very happy to see this be such a character trait that it’s in the damn description for her character for an auditioning sheet (check out Citadle Theather and Six the Musical in google, i think you’ll find it.)

Anyway sorry about this long ramble, it’s just that even though I totally can see how people view Jane as “weaker” in terms of some writing choices made, I still think there’s a lot to talk about with not just her current incarnation but also the other ones as well. I wish some changes werent made to her song, but she is a still strong character about the effects of emotional abuse and maternity. There’s nothing bad about talking about those things, your right that it doesn’t make her any less feminist. Anyway ramble over and I hope you have a lovely day :)

Hello hun!

Please don’t apologise for rambling! I’m always so interested in hearing other opinions on the queens and I love the opportunity to discuss any queen at any time! Frankly, I’m just impressed you got the whole essay into one message! Have they gotten rid of the character limit? Sorry, not relevant to the question.

(Also sorry for how long this took to answer! Uni happened sort of happened and I didn’t want to half ass my response to such a well thought out ask)

I adore the older versions of Heart of Stone, especially the student run version! I completely agree that Seymour feels so much more aware of her place in Henry’s life in the older versions. In the older version she knows she wasn’t Henry’s true love (even though she loved him) and she knows her worth is completely dependent on her ability to give Henry a son. She literally says “nothing lasts forever, I’ll fade away”. That is such a powerful statement and I wish that line was still in the song! I still think these themes are in the new version, but they’re nowhere near as explicit. Plus the character development in the student run feels much more explicit, with Seymour saying “soon I’ll have to go, I’ll never see you grow” instead of “him grow” in the new versions. She’s clearly speaking to Edward in the older version, so the last half of HOS in the old versions (at least in my eyes) is actually directly speaking to Edward and not Henry as many people think. I still think this is true for the new versions, illustrating Seymour’s character development as she breaks away from Henry and rather concentrates on her son, but again I don’t think it’s obvious in the new version. The older version just felt so much more powerful and I think it presented Seymour as much more as a victim than the newer version...which I argue is true! Seymour was as much of a victim as any other character in the show and I think she deserves more sympathy than the show gives her, and for as much as I love the newer versions of six, you can’t deny that Seymour is reduced to a joke for half of the show. The student version is such a genuine and earnest version of Seymour, and I can’t help but love her. It’s definitely a testament to the actresses from the student run that their characters are still on parr with professional versions of the show!

(Im so sorry I don’t feel like I’m adding anything to your analysis, but you’ve really summed up my feelings perfectly! )

Weirdly, I think that the student run and studio run play with the idea of having a “heart of stone” better than the modern version. I love the contrast between the material things that Henry can buy versus the natural world. Material things can fade, but the natural world (and Seymour’s love) transcends that. It’s a really nice use of juxtapostion in that song and I just don’t feel like the newer versions play with those images as much as the older version.

I do sort of get why they changed it (I think Seymour spends upwards of 10 just listing different objects, which is powerful in its own way but I do think audience members could get bored of those verses) but I wished they had still somehow managed to keep the theme that Seymour as explicit. I still think it’s there in the newer version of the song, but I don’t think it’s anywhere near as obvious as the older version. It would make HOS more like AYWD in a way, and that would be brilliant. Six shouldn’t be afraid to tackle different forms of abuse.

I personally can’t comment on the whole Anne Boleyn vs Jane Seymour thing because I just don’t know enough about the situation. However I don’t think any of the wives should be burdened with the blame of what happened to their predecessors. It wasn’t their fault.

Also I’d never thought of the tudor von trapps vs the royalling stones indicating that it was a found family rather than a blood family, but it’s actually such a neat little detail and I think it makes complete sense! I have always maintained that Seymour’s “family” doesn’t have to be related by blood. Found family is just as meanigful and as important as a bloof family, and Seymour finding her place with the other queens and calling them her family rather than Henry is very powerful in my opinion. I just don’t think the “my family’s grown” lime has to be as literal as people take it. Thanks for bringing that line to my attention though!

Seymour isn’t a “weak” character, both in term of the writing and in terms of character development. As much as I love the older versions of Seymour, I still like the new versions and appreciate that Toby and Lucy decided to allow Seymour to be a motherly character and have that be treated as an equally empowering thing as the other queens. Some women want to be mothers and that’s okay!

Anyway thank you so much for this ask my love! I really enjoyed thinking about Seymour (since she’s not a character I talk about a lot). Sorry again for taking so long to respond ❤️❤️❤️

#six the musical #enya discusses: six #six #sixthemusical #six: student cast #six: studio cast #six: west end cast #ask #ask answered #anon #anonymous ask #heart of stone #anon ask #anonymous

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headcanonrepository · 3 years

Text

I have a lot of thoughts about Neo. She's an amazing character to theorycraft about given that we still know next to nothing about her even after all this time! And my wife and I steadfastly refuse to believe that what we see is all that's going on with her (come on, her whole thing is manipulating her image, you can't just read her at face value!). So here's a bit of a masterpost of our predictions/theories about what she's doing and why:

Until the fall of Beacon, it's pretty obvious what she's doing and why so I won't go into too many details. She's Roman's trusted right hand woman, she's obviously very loyal to him for reasons we can only guess at but One Thing hinted at him finding her on her own and taking her in. (Which would be interesting if the show contrasted that past against Cinder's, Nora's and Emerald's...they're really fond of orphan girls developing co-dependent relationships with the first person to show them a crumb of kindness, huh? Anyway, that's another post)

Everything she does for Cinder at Beacon is following Roman's instructions. I'd like to think he had an exit strategy that didn't involve being Grimm chow, but we didn't get to know anything about it. Either way, they are so close to being done with this and then Roman's 'death' happens (not to beat a dead horse but as I’ve said before, if the Hound is a person, it makes more narrative sense that it's Roman and until I see some concrete proof, I'm going with supposed death. Either way, the important thing is that Neo thinks he's dead)

So Neo is pissed. She wants revenge. And Cinder is absolutely at blame, her plan got Roman killed. Neo tracks her down with a little help from the criminal underworld and has Cinder on the ropes until she pulls out the maiden card. It’s worth noting that throughout that fight, the cinematography makes sure that we see Neo noticing both Cinder’s bandaged (Grimm) arm and her subtle manifesting of the maiden powers (fiery punch) before she actually relies on maiden powers to stop the fight.

Cinder tries to persuade Neo that Ruby is who she should really want to kill. Now, I don't think Neo believes that for a second. She keeps fighting Cinder after her first attempt to shift the blame onto Ruby, only stopping after Cinder uses a blatant display of power Neo can’t or won’t match. My guess is either: she realized that if Cinder drew on her full power, she wasn't going to win OR she realized that her true target is whoever/whatever controls the Grimm and Cinder isn't it. Potentially both, with Cinder still being a target for revenge but only after the bigger problem is dealt with.

So she seemingly teams up with Cinder to get information/lull her into a false sense of security. And she gets a lot of information very quickly - Cinder tells her about the relics and maidens and Salem pretty much immediately in Haven vault. (Cinder really underestimates people if she thinks they’re on her side and if that isn’t going to bite her in the ass this season, I’ll be very surprised. Probably won’t be Neo, but her treatment of Emerald has been a problem for a while and that’s got to hit a breaking point soon)

They get to Atlas and bide their time/gather information until they find out where the relic is and how to get it. Neo makes a point of 'telling' Cinder she wants to go after Ruby but after being told no, she doesn't push it any further. At this point, Neo knows where Ruby is and had a great opportunity to go after her if that's really what she wanted. And at any point after the dinner party, she could have split from Cinder to go after Ruby if she wanted to. She hasn't.

She gets the relic for Cinder. She toys with ORNJ in the process but her main aim isn't to kill. She’s literally fighting with one hand behind her back at one point. In fact, she hangs around much longer than she had to, she swiped the relic off Oscar off screen appearing as ‘someone else’ - she could have made off with it without a confrontation at all. She hung around so everyone got a good look at her and knew she was there. Nora even identified her. Almost like she wants the good guys to know what she's doing and who is doing it. Then she goes. (Random thought: I know CRWBY have said the ‘Oscar punch’ was an animation error but what if that literally is Neo ‘showing her face’ in the least suspicious way possible and CRWBY don’t want to say it because it’s too much of a spoiler?)

Cinder doesn't seem appreciative of her actions and dismisses her contributions and she appears put out by it. I suspect that's more for Cinder's benefit - a lack of any reaction might be suspicious.

Cinder and Neo deliver the relic to Salem and from here on out, every whale scene Neo does as little as possible to draw attention to herself, staying out of Salem's notice, standing off to the side or behind Cinder, doing nothing to draw suspicion...but she's watching and listening in every scene.

She doesn't want Cinder to go after Penny, but winds up going anyway when it looks unavoidable. In the resulting fight with Maria, Neo comes off as she isn't even trying; she's slower than usual, less lethal. I believe it's plausible deniability for not helping Cinder - she was busy. But she did make it super clear to Maria that she knows who Ruby is, and Maria is alive to communicate that at some point. Neo only gets the upper hand when Maria is distracted by Penny’s fall (or to see it another way, when Cinder has enough free time to pay a second of attention to the other fight in the room and see that Neo isn’t really trying).

So Neo doesn’t want to be there. And she doesn’t want to help Cinder out once she is there. Why not? Either she's still after revenge against Cinder and giving Cinder more power (via winter maiden) wouldn't help that and/or Salem said no and Neo is trying to be as passive and non-confrontational as possible to slip under the radar while she gathers information on Salem. My money is on both.

If Cinder had had Neo and Emerald's full help against Penny, I don't think Penny would still be around. And that would mean the Winter Maiden powers would be with either Cinder (bad for revenge), Emerald (Cinder would just kill Emerald, leading back to option 1) or Neo (Cinder would try to kill Neo and while Neo might be able to escape, she's got a massive target on her back and she'll not be able to get information on or plot against Salem anymore, which would be bad for revenge in a different way).

What does this mean for the future? Well, Neo is going to keep pretending to be on side until she either has information or an opportunity to mess up all of Salem’s plans. She knows Salem needs the relics. I could see her breaking Oscar out and sending him on his way with the lamp at some point (and TBH, I would love to see what the main guys make of that and how they try to rationalize her behaviour). Or she could use the rifts forming in Salem’s team to undermine Salem’s plans (but I think Oscar is already on that one). Or she could be waiting a lot longer before taking action.

Basically, there's only two ways I can rationalize Neo's fluctuating character motivations and abilities. Either a) CRWBY aren't thinking about her as much as I am or b) Neo is playing a very long game of revenge. After all, it's best served cold, like ice cream! ;)

Until I know for certain otherwise, I'm going to believe it's b.

#rwby volume 8 spoilers #rwby8 spoilers #rwby theory #rwby spoilers #long post #neopolitan #and don't worry #I saved clown makeup incase CRWBY really do intend for us to take this at face value #but the best part of theorycrafting is that if I'm wrong #I do have a whole fanfic outline right here to make the best AU

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heyitsbugette · 4 years

Text

Todobug: Fallen lover.

The spotted heroine was out with her team for a regular round of patrol, finding herself just a few meters from the girls to plan the rute alongside Chat Noir. She constantly ignored his attentions, but when he took her hand trying to kiss the back, with her opposite she invoked a lucky charm out of curiosity, winning a small spray bottle with which she sprayed on his feline friend.

──── Bad Kitty! Behave! Behave!

She exclaimed, spraying her partner, watching him contract through the water as if he were a small cat taking a bath, making her laugh mockingly next to the turtle hero who stayed next to them contracting against his stomach to laugh at the blonde’s childish reactions. Lately the heroes have gotten much closer as the meetings get more and more enjoyable, sometimes taking a few breaks to chat or joke with each other.

This was one of those days, being a fairly quiet time to afford that luxury that on rare occasions they could joke around. For today the only ones who were absent were Viperion, Roi Singe, and Pegase, but soon it would be their turn on the night patrol. And while both boys were organizing to cover ground next to Ladybug, it was that both Rena Rouge and Queen Bee looked puzzled at the initial duo of heroes at the same time while Ryuko sitting on a pile of bricks next to them sharpened her sword patiently without much interest.

It wasn't until the beautiful-looking blonde snorted as she touched up her lipstick that when she uttered a word, she broke the ice, paying attention to her reflection in the portable mirror that she carried with her even in battle. And at once her lips took on a little more color, she looked out of the corner of her eye at the heroine in a fox costume, ready to start conversation.

──── And ... Are you sure these two are just friends? Huh, I'm suspecting that the Ladybug's alleged boyfriend scandal is actually fake news of that infamous Alec Cataldi guy.

The blonde wasn't exactly discreet when she looked away from her mirror to turn and look skeptically at the dynamic duo fighting childishly as they calmed down to begin their part of the patrol, both walking away with Carapace jumping from roof to roof.

Instead, the young Japanese woman who calmly held her sword, settled into her seat crossing her legs with a quick movement. For a few thoughtful moments, she rested her gaze indifferently on her mate, while resting both hands on the handle of her sword, glancing sideways at the direction in which her superiors were leaving.

──── Believe it or not, she is in a relationship with Todoroki-san, and we must respect that, Queen Bee. It is not very honorable that you speak of him like this when he is not present to defend himself.

It was her answer said with a little bit of hostility, since clearly the foreigner hated gossip and to people talking cowardly behind them back. She did not know the guy in question well enough to consider him a friend, but he had been cordial in those events in which their parents had coincided.

Of course, it was a shock to learn that he was the mysterious boy Chat Noir was constantly complaining about standing between him and “his lady”. However, she couldn't blame them for their relationship being now seen in the public eye, after how an annoying low morality TV presenter had exposed the couple without their consent, robbing them of the opportunity to reveal their relationship when they were ready. It was so unpleasant, but she remembered with satisfaction how the Ladyblogger reported such an invasion of privacy on her blog, causing so much backlash to the man.

Some karma was dealt after that.

And although her words were almost interrupted by a fox lady in a bright orange suit, far from being annoyed, she continued her own business by returning her attention to the weapon even as she paid attention to the girl who questioned her words.

──── As much as I hate the shit Cataldi pull on them, the guy don't give me good vibes... I mean he's stupidly cold even with her. It seems he doesn't even care that Ladybug is in love with him!

The fox's heroine commented annoyed, while the blonde bee buzzed with excitement, agreeing with the words of her comrade. Neither of them seemed to believe Endeavor's son as the one for Ladybug, the national angel of France.

──── I know damn right the guy is hot, I'm not blind. But he's so... Uninteresting that he loses his charm. I think we all agree that our little bug can easily get someone better, my Adrikins is dying for her and I don't blame him, I don't even know who to be jealous of.

The blonde commented in a playful tone while she fixed some strands of hair ruffled by the wind, and putting on the final touches of the lipstick with her hand mirror, she closed the end at once to cross her arms later. It was obvious that her words were anything but kind, because even when Rena agreed that her heroine should seek someone else, it was equally clear that she did not approve of being so cruel when speaking of the aspiring hero. Chloe, on the other hand, was still taking small steps to be friendlier, but the change was gradual and she didn't avoid releasing hurtful comments on rare occasions.

No one refuted anything, it was not worth it and among the three they ended up leaving finally once their rest ended, ready to resume their patrol, perhaps hopefully catching up with the rest of their teammates.

Todoroki Shoto was just leaving the Le Grand Paris, where he was staying with his family, his father apparently had work pending in Paris and they would be spending the summer outside of Japan.

He keeping silent and walking beside his older brother for as long as their paths coincided, after all he did not plan to follow him any longer; he had his own plans going. He had reserved a table in a restaurant that was close to her girlfriend's home, clearly paying with his old man's credit card with the bonus of bothering him, and of course thanks to his action he ended up earning a tremendous shout from the older one, but that did not matter, he just wanted to pamper his beloved.

──── So.. Have any plans, kid?

Asked the curious albino while chilling at the side of his brother. He and his penpal Luka Couffaine would hang out at the mall and then go to the disco store, it was clear that he wanted to see if the youngest of the family was free to accompany them.

──── I'm going out with my girlfriend once she comes back from patrolling with her team.

He answered calmly, taking out his phone when he felt it vibrate for a few seconds, surely his sister had called him to scold him for what he did with the credit card, but from seeing the angry expression on the older man's face he could say that it was worth it worth the scolding.

──── Ah? So, are you're really dating? I thought you were joking when you told us.

The college student spoke with a little laugh, noticing how his sibling looked at him confused. Suddenly the punk looking teenager gave him a discreet push with his shoulder to shut him up, an action that made him finally react.

And it was not for less, he had really been surprised to hear the albino's words, which shows with his changing facial expression. And while the double quirked teen questioned his words with his typical seriousness, it was remarkable for the man, for his slipt he keeps laughing nervously and even uncomfortably at the heterochromatic stare.

──── And… why did you think that?

──── Hey, chill... I didn't mean it like that, but you guys don't really seem like a couple. You know, you don't show it much. B-But I know you must love her a lot, of course!

Realizing how insensitive his words were, as well as how prejudiced he sounded when saying them, Natsuo ended up hiding behind a certain guitarist who shook his head gently and placed his arm between the two boys in a crude attempt at protection in what they both looked like. Instead of getting angry, the half redhead hung his head in surprise, grimacing seconds later, looking at them this time with a frown, clearly offended and annoyed.

──── Don't take it the wrong way, Shoto. You know that Natsuo can be somewhat naive and reckless, it was not his intention to offend you.

──── See you tomorrow, Couffaine…

Without saying anything else, he turns away into the flower shop, leaving behind the guys with whom he had had a bitter revelation. It was the only thing he said, annoyingly walking away in the opposite direction. Didn't they really seem like a real couple? The young man knew that he was not very expressive with his feelings, but he never thought it would be so bad. He continued his walking now without much encouragement, looking even more serious than usual if that was possible, but he was still determined to prove to himself that Natsuo was wrong. Perhaps if he made an effort to make his night with her girlfriend perfect, he could show his love for her, although it was difficult for him to show his feelings. But that did not mean that he wouldn't do his best to try.

So, he continued walking until he reached the picturesque place, entering and buying a bouquet of flowers, cheering up little by little. He left the place much calmer, even motivated, eager to meet his dear ladybug; but it was not until he heard three female voices talking about him and his lovely girfriend without any hesitation, that without being able to avoid it with strangeness he raised his face to watch the heroines speak from the roof of the building animatedly, being the blonde the loudest among the three.

Little by little he felt worse and worse with each word. Was he such a bad boyfriend? Marinette thought the same as her friends?

Once the heroines left the Japanese boy sat on one of the benches, leaving his bouquet of flowers beside him, running his hands over his hair. Maybe they were right, maybe he was giving less to the relationship than his girlfriend deserved, maybe he was throwing her into the arms of another guy with his attitude. Suddenly he felt an upset stomach just thinking about it, it wasn't a nice feeling.

At the same time his discomfort was escalating and frustrated, he bent down looking at the bouquet of roses with an unsatisfied gaze, remembering how the cat hero used to give her a flower every day during the time that his relationship with her was a secret to the public. He remembered the jealousy he repressed every time Chat Noir tried to seduce his heroine, every flirtatious and cheesy nickname said in the midst of battles, as even when she rejected him, he was still motivated to win her love.

He recalled the mistrust he had for Luka when he mentioned his feelings for a certain baker's daughter, but he quickly dispelled his insecurities when he knew that Couffaine would never try anything with her. In his words he remembered how the eldest simply said that “her melody had found her own rhapsody,” whatever that meant. It was much worse when he find out about the past feelings his Maribug used to have towards Adrien Agreste, but detesting him made him feel guilty, the boy was also too kind for his own good.

He needed advice, it was not a good sign to be so insecure or jealous. But he was just a confused teenager in his first relationship, they couldn't blame him for his inexperience.

Todoroki Shoto, Memories. A couple days ago.

During finals a certain pigtail lady had sneaked to Japan with the equine kwami’s help, of course, she missed her long-distance boyfriend as much as she knows he missed her too, and surprising her lover from behind she didn’t hesitate into hugging him sideways, laughing and playing with their noses in an soft Eskimo kiss. A couple minutes later, he took her by the waist just to give his girlfriend room to sit on his lap, while both kwamis hovered curiously around the room towards one of the hero magazines.

──── Not that it bothers me for you to come see me, actually I enjoy it, but what are you doing here?

──── I needed a break ... If I hear Lila say how she introduced you to Ladybug again, I will lose my patience, mon trésor.

With a snort the young woman let herself lean on her lover's shoulder, listening to him laugh vaguely with that unmistakable grimace on his lips, without a doubt the double quirk teen was just as entertained of the situation than he should be.

──── She's still into her fantasies? Should I be scared?

──── Not worth it.

In a mocking tone the eldest played with his beloveds’ lips, approaching to touch them tenderly just to move away when his muse deigned to reciprocate. From one moment to the next, he earned her frown, and it was when he saw her pout that he finally let himself be caught, feeling the plump and pink lips against his, sharing the cherry flavor of her usual chapstick.

When closing his eyes in duo with his sun sunshine girl, one of his hands fixed on her cheek tenderly as he passed his thumb over the blush, while in an ephemeral separation to discharge his heavy breath in a second, they again kissed again. Much more shy tan before.

──── Please come tomorrow… If not, who's going to kick my ass in Ultimate Mecha Strike?

Little could he know that his scattered thoughts made Gabriel Agreste smile with discretion, as he, after sending one of his models to their wardrobe test in the care of their star designers, was that he hung up the call by video-chat once he delegated the activities of the day to Nathalie and went calmly towards the portrait of his beloved Emilie, caressing gracefully the illustration on her lips, in a silent conversation with himself.

He would have another chance to save her.

──── Oh, disappointment and jealousy ~ Powerful feelings from the hand of the lover that will bring my victory ... Simply poetic. Get ready, Ladybug! It will be the person who has your very own heart who will bring your defeat to me. So, fly my little Akuma, and possess Endeavor's son!

Ignorant of what was happening, were his racing heartbeats and his concern about losing the girl he had fallen in love with, without notice he caught the attention of a certain villain who triumphantly prepare one of his akumas to leave outside of his lair as he walked in the direction of his butterfly window ready for send his tiny henchman in search of the tormented teenager boy whose peace was disturbed. Humming, Hawkmoth smiled poisonously, capturing in his hands the tiny being whom he filled with negative energy, and in the end commanding them with his stick for catch his target.

Earlier when news of the heroine's romance leaked, he simply didn't rush into acting. He wasn't an idiot, he knew how dangerous it was to villainize the wrong people at the wrong time, he learned it the hard way with certain failed villains. But now, it was the perfect timing for him.

The akuma fluttered from the sky until found the source of such intense negative feelings, it could feel them for miles, and when the time came it was easier to be able to catch him without being noticed. Without missing the opportunity to melt into the bouquet of roses that the brokean hearted boy held so sadly, linking without opportunity to fight in a forced communication with the most feared villain in Paris at the moment when the butterfly communicator managed to get a surprised sigh out of him.

──── Greetings, Heartstroke. I am your friend, Hawkmoth. I have felt your fear of losing the love of your heroine, as everyone sees you as an obstacle. I promise to give you the power to punish whoever dares to take her away from you, and prove them wrong... But there is something you must do for me in return.

His words were poisonous, said with false concern and artificial charisma, selling to his victim the idea that would solve their problems once and for all, but the minor's doubt internally annoyed the criminal, he hated when his victims became resistant.

──── No, I won't give you her miraculous…

──── Don't be naive, son. Every Ladybug is destined for her Black Cat. Creation and destruction cannot live without the other. I offer you the opportunity to free her from her destiny. And what do you say? Do you accept my offer?

The half albino quickly covered his ears, while biting his trembling lip closed at the same time, he closed his eyes, unable to resist the intense connection with Hawkmoth any longer. But with each spoken word he felt increasingly furious, helpless, more insecure. To Paris, he was just a busybody, someone who kept Ladybug away from her one true love, the one who truly cared about her; as with every threatening mail they insinuated that he should get away and look for someone else, that he should stop confusing Lady luck's feelings. He couldn't handle it anymore, he was only human after all, and naturally he was selfish.

Selfish for wanting a future with her.

──── It will be a pleasure, Hawkmoth.

With a simple scaling flash of light, the bicolor eyed boy’s body was enveloped until it disappeared into a new metamorphosis, a different appearance drifted away from his usual looks.

Goodbye Todoroki Shoto, let's meet Heartstroke.

#crakship #todoroki shoto x marinette dupain cheng #todobug #mlb x bnha #bnha x mlb #crackship #marinette ships #alya sugar

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ai-soo · 4 years

Text

in memory of my oldest friend

Tiffany--

I am sitting here looking at which flowers to send to your funeral. I wish I was instead looking at flowers to send you for your birthday.

I don’t know what to say. I wish you didn’t do it. I wish you at least said goodbye? I wish You could see, could believe that life was worth living, even with its heartaches.

I know the hand of cards dealt to you were tough. I know life isn’t fair. But I still had hope you could persevere.

I don’t know what to say. I guess I will just write our memories.

I remember in 3rd grade we became best friends. I don’t remember the details anymore. I bet you would.

In 4th I remember you got a really good score on the math homework, and instead of saying it out loud to the class (because that’s how the teacher took scores), you went up to him to quietly tell him. Humble.

In 5th I remember watching you play basketball at recess, enjoying your time. I remember jump roping together all the time. I remember walking home together, you would sometimes come over but other days you’d have to go help your parents out at the restaurant. I remember frequent sleepover and trips. You were my sister. You are my sister.

In 6th I remember P.E. together. Wearing the P.E. shorts out of class and then getting in trouble for it. I remember being in the same classes. I don’t remember much. Again, you had the better memory.

In 7th grade I moved. I remember our phone calls, catching each other up. I remember missing you. I still miss you.

In 8th grade... In 9th... it was a blur. We fell out of contact. No one was to blame. We were young and life was chaotic.

I sent you an email one day, unsure if you were even going to see it. It was the only way I knew how to contact you anymore. But you responded, and we struck up our old friendship once more.

You said you moved to Las Vegas. I visited you with my family. It was a bit awkward. Sorry about that. But you were still the same. Smart, friendly, polite, and so much more.

Time passes again. We stay in contact via emails and social media, but it’s not as frequent.

The next thing I know, you are in Indiana. I think we were in 11th grade? Or supposed to be. You told me you dropped out of high school. It was too hard. Being in the middle of nowhere, being one of the only Asian Americans. The bullying was intense. The expectations were hard. You dropped out.

You wanted to come stay with my family. I wanted that too. It didn’t work out. So it goes.

You help your brother through school, and your sister. You work with your parents to maintain their restaurant. You sacrifice everything for the people around you. You are so strong.

We continue to communicate. There’s no real pattern to it -- just whenever someone reaches out.

I think we fell into a more solid pattern my freshmen or sophomore year of college. We send each other gifts and check in. It was a small way of showing our love for each other, knowing we wouldn’t forget each other.

I remember one time I forgot your birthday. I felt so bad. I texted you late, and you thanked me and said you were actually scared I forgot. I did forget. I’m still sorry.

We settle into a relatively stable routine of this. You come to visit me my junior year of college. I wish I took more pictures. It was a time for us to catch up, and have new adventures. We went to San Francisco and explored.

In college, I wrote a short skit inspired by you. I remember giving it to you to read, and you were thankful that I thought of you. I wish I could’ve done more than just write a skit about such woes.

I am frustrated that all the resources still didn’t help, either. Frustrated that suicide hotlines didn’t help, and became discouraging even. Frustrated that everything I was told to help, didn’t.

My mom told me a memory of one time you slept over and she could hear us talking about toast. All the different things we like on toast.

And then I found our old emails and the dumb shit we talked about.

And then I remembered one time we were walking home and a huge truck drove past us and we felt a HUGE gush of warm air. And we just LAUGHED. We laughed for so long. We joked about how that was like a blowdryer and if our hair was wet before, it would’ve been dry. And I personally have never felt such a gust of air from a car ever since then. It’s like life happened to us in a different way, and we could always enjoy it together.

I remember you being a fucking pro at DDR.

I remember us watching the Bratz movie where they had a rock band and we would sing that song and jump on my couches. We would watch movies together. Get into the same interests.

I remember that time that strange man kept circling my house and you and me, the big sisters, rushed our little siblings into the house.

I remember playing outside around the neighborhood. Going trick or treating together.

I remember both of us writing. You told me recently that you were envious of my writing and my ability to stick to it. But I told you I was envious of you being able to create such fascinating ideas in your writing.

I just got off the phone with your friend, Hain.

And your friend Yaku was the one who tracked us all down to deliver the news.

You had such a talent of finding the best friends to support you.

They both tell me how much you spoke of me, how me reaching out to you via email meant so much to you. I honestly forgot that had happened until they reminded me. Our friendship is so long and sturdy that I thought we never really fell out of contact.

I miss you.

Hain told me you often compared your life to mine. That’s so unfair. I knew you did that when you talked to me, but I didn’t realize how often you spoke about it to others. How were we two sides of the same coin?

You had many things I admire about you. I wish you took time to appreciate yourself, too.

Thank you for being there for me.

I wish I could have done more, but also know you would hate it if I felt this way.

You were so strong and brave for holding out for as long as you did. I hope you know that.

I will continue to come back to edit this post with more memories as I hear or remember them. I told you, you’ve always had the better memory. And now, without you hear to remind me, I will have to do my best to remember them myself.

Edit:

10/8/2020

I FaceTimed your friends. They are as kind as you. I can tell you attract people just like you. I miss you, we all miss you so much.

As I wrote the date, I realized how surreal it is that it’s 2020. The first week? It’s been a week. Your funeral was today. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it. I wish I could go without risking people’s health. I know you would’ve understood, but that doesn’t make me feel less bad.

I mourn for your loss. I wish you could be around to see 2021, 2022, and beyond. I wish we could’ve celebrated your 24th birthday together. I wish you were still here. I miss you.

Edit:

10/29/2020

It still feels surreal. Like how can you really be gone?

I just wanted to update because 1. I still think of you quite often, and 2. I remembered another memory. I remember play class games with you, like heads up seven up, and always choosing you. I remember in middle school, you coming over so we could do a project together but I told you the wrong instructions because I misinterpreted the instructions, so we both messed up in the same way. I’m sorry about that. I wonder if you even remembered. Probably.

I miss you.

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just-horrible-things · 4 years

Text

What if... Riven kept all the power, and Ariadne never got her promotion

Characters: Ariadne, Riven Setting: real-world-adjacent

Content warnings include: negative self-talk, workplace abuse (with torture), self blame, bystander effect

----

Ariadne drops her keycard on the side as her door clicks closed behind her. Useless bit of plastic. Riven got the IT guys to do something back in the summer, and now this is one of the few doors that open for her. She braces her palms against the wall and lets herself be still for the first time since she climbed out of bed 14 hours ago. Lets her composure crumble.

For the thousandth time, she thinks about tailgating someone through the front door and out into the streets. She doesn't know where the hell she'd go. She'd have nothing. But she'll do it, sometime soon. When she's healed.

But not until then. If she gets an infection, she'll need help. And she'll be on her own once she runs. Any hospital, the police... they might hand her back to Riven. And she can't let that happen. She can't. It was bad enough after she tried to report him. (Stupid girl, why did she ever imagine that would work?) If she got away from him, only to be reeled back in like a fish on a line... She can't do it. She'd shatter into pieces. So she'll wait.

But some day soon.

Her feet ache, almost as badly as her skin. Too much time standing too still. Trying not to shift and reopen any more gashes. She just wants to flop into bed. Lying down is its own kind of pain, but she's so tired.

But she needs to wash before she sleeps. Infection would be a hundred times worse.

She doesn't move for another minute, or five, or ten. Being still is the closest she can get to comfortable. Nothing tugging, or pressing on the wounds. No hand on her shoulder to make her flinch. Just her, and the quiet, and the ache.

Eventually she makes herself move again. Shrugging carefully out of her jacket is a practised motion. She allows herself a soft whimper at the pain. Her boots are laced loosely enough to kick off without needing to bend down. She empties her pockets, picks up pajamas, the neosporin, and a towel, then pauses to take a few deep breaths. Probably she won't bump into anyone in the corridor. But she might.

Useless bit of plastic, she thinks as she picks up the keycard on the way out.

Technically the shower is shared, but most people only rarely use the on-site rooms, so really it may as well be hers. She leaves her shampoo here, and a comb, and a tube of deodorant. No one has complained.

The door locks with a simple bolt. More reassuring than the card-lock on her room.

She turns the water on, and leaves it to come up to body temperature.

Her top sticks in a dozen places as she peels it carefully up her torso. Bending her elbows makes the scabs there crack open. And when she gets to the shoulders, she finds that they've been bleeding badly again, and the fabric is firmly stuck to the lacerations. It's such a small thing, but Ariadne could cry. It wasn't this bad yesterday, she thought it was healing. The frustration is almost worse than the pain. She just wants to sleep.

Fine, okay. She's dealt with this before... She takes off her belt, and her socks, and gets into the shower.

The warm water is soothing. It runs rivers through her clothes and leaves them heavy, warm and clinging. She tips her face up, wishing the water could wash away more than grime. It's nice. A small pleasure. She can feel the fabric slowly unsticking at her thighs, and her calves, and the outside of her arms. She doesn't look down. She doesn't want to see the red in the water.

She could stand under the warmth forever.

But she can't.

Her trousers are easy enough to slip out of. They puddle wetly round her feet. The top takes more effort. But the water has done its work, and it comes away from her shoulders with only a little pain. She gets it to her elbows, and the weight of the wet fabric does the rest of the work. It falls with a wet slap to join her trousers. And then she just has to reach - wincing - behind her back to unclip her bra.

She can't avoid looking at her body. She looks like a fucking zebra. The weals are bright where the skin isn't quite broken - and where they have reopened today - and pale where the scabs are still in place. Ankles to collarbones, neck to wrists. Like she's a fucking canvas - "you look good in stripes" - or a target board for Riven to practice his aim.

He is good, she has to give him that. The angles are consistent, the spacing even. And the depth is pretty even too, she supposes she should be glad of that. The bullwhip can cut badly, but her stripes are only skin deep.

She can't stop herself wondering how many will scar this time.

She was proud of her bullet scar. Proud of the knife wounds taken fighting for her duty and her life. Proud of the many nicks and scrapes she gave herself as a child learning to be stronger, better, quicker.

She can't be proud of the marks Riven gives her. Proof of how he toys with her. How she isn't strong enough or brave enough to stop him.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. She should have run before now. Even starving on the street would be better than this. Why did she go and lash out and get herself whipped again? She should have swallowed her anger and run instead.

She should have run a long time ago.

But at least moving is a little less painful with the scabs all softened by water. She washes her hair first, then the rest. Her hands move gently over the welts and the skin between, wiping away the sweat and the grime. It's not as bad as it could be. But washing her back is still bad, and her feet and legs are worse. Bending double makes her burn from shoulders to ass.

By the time she is done, she's sitting on the shower floor and shuddering, feet braced against one side of the cubicle, back pressed against the cold tiles for relief. She lets her head tip back, and tries not to think.

She'll need to go through the whole rigmarole again when she gets out, putting the neosporin on the welts. It's worth it for the lasting relief, but it still means moving. And before that she has to get dry - dabbing at her skin as carefully as she can with the towel. And then she'll have to pull pajamas on. And she'll probably leave blood on her sheets again anyway...

The staff who do the laundry must know. They wash blood out of a lot of clothes, she supposes - and thank god for modern stain removal - but not many people turn in bloodied clothes and bloodied sheets and bloodied pajamas every day for a week straight.

But what does it matter. Everyone knows. They see the way she flinches, and the way Riven talks to her. They know how often he "disciplines" her, they've all seen --

No.

Don't think about it.

She just needs to worry about tonight. She just needs to get out of the shower, get dry, put the cream on the cuts, put her pajamas on, get back to her room, get into bed, and pass out. Just that.

"Just" that.

... she can't do it.

It's too much.

Every inch of her aches.

She should pull herself together, stop being such a baby, they're only shallow cuts, she's had worse.

But it burns every time she moves. The pain scratches at the back of her mind every second she's awake, and it keeps her from sleeping. It's too much. She's exhausted.

Maybe she can just fall asleep here, under the warm water.

But she can't, she knows she can't, it's too uncomfortable. And she's already getting cold, leaning back against the wall with only her legs under the shower.

Maybe she can think about bed. Bed is good. Morning will come too soon, but at least she'll be a day closer to healed.

Bed is too far away.

Or maybe she can break it up into the smallest steps. Just get out of the shower. That's not too much. Just do that, and deal with the next task when she gets to it.

She can do it. She might be weak but she's not that weak. She will do it.

But maybe she'll just sit here a little longer.

Tears form hot in her eyes. She has words for the welts on her skin, but she has no words for the hurt in her heart. She used to think she was worth something. She used to think the system was fair. But Riven treats her like a toy.

And everyone knows, and no one cares.

#my writing #my ocs #ariadne #riven #verse: au to unlikely salvation #torture tw #whipping tw #scars tw #negative self talk tw #abuse tw #workplace abuse tw #self blame tw #bystander effect tw #exhastion tw #ariadne is miserable and disillusioned and in way over her head #au: chewtoy

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