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#i love rising from the dead 3 times a year
cinnaworm · 7 months
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my first page for the rwby prism zine - leftover sales are open :]]
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daboyau · 19 hours
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I was watching lilo and stitch and that “you can never belong” scene came on and I got this idea in my head for that, but with ROTTMNT. So since I don’t do edits or draw, I wrote it out instead. Don’t think too hard about the logistics. :)
It is cold, when Leo slips out of the lair. He can feel Mikey’s gaze on him as he leaves, raising goosebumps over his flesh. He can’t bear to turn back, knowing that his resolve would crumble immediately if he did. His footsteps are too loud in the loneliness of the sewers. His heartbeat pounds in his head. He keeps expecting to hear a voice calling out for him, or the soft sound of footsteps following him. 
But of course it never comes. Mikey had been so hurt. So sad. Of course he wouldn’t follow him. 
When Leo finds a portal into the Hidden City, he doesn’t hesitate to throw himself through it despite the danger it puts him in to be there. The sounds and the sights are familiar to him, yet nowhere calls to him as loudly as the lair had. It’s only been two weeks since he was first brought into their home. They hadn’t even wanted him there, and yet the urge to go crawling back is so strong. He had messed everything up from the moment he’d manipulated his way into their lives. Of course they wouldn’t want him. 
(Why don’t they want him?)
Leo wanders the back alleys and the side streets, letting his feet guide him to nowhere in particular. The picture he had swiped on his way out of the lair is stored safely in the pouch tied around his waist, and between steps he’ll reach in to slide his fingertips over the stiff paper. Just to make sure it’s still there. It soothes him.
He doesn’t stop walking until he’s far outside the city, tucked away in the scraggly rock forests that surround the Hidden City. The aching in his chest has turned into more of a twisting knife, the small knot of sadness becoming more like a gaping chasm. An open wound. A bottomless pit of longing and loneliness that he had never felt before he forced his way into the lives of the Hamatos. 
He hadn’t had anything to lose, before. He hadn’t known the kind of pain that loving something would bring. He wishes he could go back to not knowing. He wishes he could return to a life of never having to make the choice to walk away, to spare them all the pain his existence brings them. 
Leo settles on the ground, curling into himself, shoulders trembling under the weight of everything. When he closes his eyes, the image of Mikey’s face as Leo made his choice haunts him. Donnie’s quiet voice rings in his ears in the silence of the forest, you ruined everything, again and again. Raph’s soft squeeze on his shoulder lingers like a phantom. Leo trembles, tucking his knees to his chest. Then, he pulls the photo out. 
Raph, Donnie, and Mikey grin up at him. It’s almost mocking, how happy they look here. A reminder that they are better without him around. He hadn’t seen them smile like that since the first five minutes they’d found him, back before they learned the truth of how much of their lives he can ruin. 
He runs a careful finger over those smiles, then he squeezes his eyes shut and holds the photo against his chest. His throat burns, and the ache in his chest feels like a black hole that will swallow his body whole. He does his best to breathe through the pain and when he opens his eyes again, the light speckled ceiling overhead is blurry and indistinct. It reminds him of the stars they had taken him to see, wind tickling his skin as they sat on the rooftop of the tallest building of their strange human city and stared upwards at something beautiful.
“Lost,” he whispers to the open air, and he can almost imagine that single word floating upwards, towards the city and the sewers. Finding its way into the only place he’s ever found that might have one day held happiness. But only for him. Not for them. There was only danger if he stayed.
“I’m lost,” he repeats, words like some trouble confession, and hot tears roll down his cheeks.
Some small, selfish part of him hopes they’ll hear. He wants them to come for him, and to bring him back home. It is a stupid, foolish wish. It’s better for everyone that he stays gone. He can’t hurt them this way. 
He falls asleep with tears drying on his cheeks, and body curled tight around the only evidence he holds of a dream he knows can never be. 
When he wakes hours later, it’s to the sound of heavy footsteps over gravel. He jolts upright, heart pounding, eyes wide, and for one foolish, terrible moment he really believes that his family has come for him. 
But no. Of course not. When Draxum emerges with a weapon pointed at his head, Leo can’t find it within himself to feel surprised. He stares back blankly, shifting slowly to stand, halfway wishing that Draxum would just take the shot and get it over with. He doesn’t think he has the energy to raise a hand to defend himself. 
The gravel has left his legs peppered with indents and marks from where they’d pressed into his flesh as he slept. They sound like something breaking as they shift and crunch beneath his feet. Draxum’s eyes dart between those markings and Leo’s tear streaked face, before his expression twists into something complicated. Almost pitying. 
“Don’t run,” he says, voice low. If Leo hadn’t heard what true kindness sounds like these last couple weeks, he would have said that’s what he hears in Draxum’s tone. “Don’t make me hurt you. You were difficult to make. No need to ruin a perfectly acceptable specimen.”
Leo shuffles, eyes darting between Draxum and the stacked stones surrounding them. He makes a sound low in his throat, hurt and uncertain, but he does not bolt. Draxum smiles, already assured of his victory, and steps closer. Leo watches with wide eyes. 
“Yes. Yes, that’s it,” Draxum murmurs, careful and soft, like he’s trying to soothe a scared animal. “Come quietly.”
“I…I’m waiting,” Leo admits, and he watches Draxum’s brow crease. His head tips, curious. He’s not used to this side of his creation — quiet, yet resisting his orders. Leo shuffles a half step back, heart pounding so hard in his chest that he feels a little dizzy. 
“For what?”
“For…for my family.”
“Aahhh. There is no use in doing so. You don’t have one. I made you.” 
Leo shakes his head, hands trembling, photo creased from how tightly he is clutching it in his fist. The thought of ruining the only evidence he has hurts, but the fear of Draxum getting his hands on it, of him finding out about the others, it terrifies him in a way he’s never felt before. He can’t let Draxum know about them. 
“Maybe…maybe I could—“
“I don’t know what yokai fool you found, or what nonsense they’ve been filling your mind with, but banish the thought of family from your mind.” His voice has lost that careful, gentle farce. It is harsh and cutting now. A familiar sound that Leo had hoped he’d left behind forever when he ran away. “You are built to destroy. You can never belong. Now, come quietly and we can begin your reeducation once—no! No no, don’t run, don’t—!”
His voice fades as Leo darts through the towering stones, vines curling at his heels and snapping at his shell as Draxum tries to recapture him. The picture flutters from his fingertips as he trips, lost amongst the shadows of the stone forest. Leo sobs, but he does not turn back for it. It is better if it is lost; at least then, he may be able to move on. 
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veganineden · 9 months
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On the Evolution of “Happily Ever After” and Why “Nothing Lasts Forever”
A reflection inspired by Good Omens 2
One of my favorite Tumblr posts on the second season of Good Omens 2 was actually not about the series at all, but our reaction to it, primarily the ending. @zehwulf wrote, “I think a lot of us—myself included—got a little too comfortable with assuming [Aziraphale and Crowley would] work on their issues right away post-Armageddon.” We did the work for them through meta, fanfiction, fanart, and building a plethora of headcanons. Who among us AO3-surfing fans didn’t read and love Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach by Nnm?
In the 4 long years since season one was released, we did more than seek to understand and repair rifts between two fictional beings: we were forced to reckon with ourselves too. We faced a global pandemic, suffered traumatizing losses and isolation, and were forced to really and truly look into the face of our atrocities-ridden and capitalistic world. The mainstream rise of Diversity, Equity, Inclusion and Justice work, and our participation in this work, showed us that the systems in place were built to oppress and harm most of us, and they are. 
So, what does this have to do with the evolution of “happily ever after”? 
My friend put it best in a conversation we had following the season finale, when she pointed out a shift in media focus. The “happy end” in old stories about wars and kingdoms used to be “we killed the evil old king and put a noble young king in his place and now citizens can live in peace” and we’re transitioning into a period of “we tore down the whole fucking monarchy.” 
If we look at season one, written to follow the beats of a love story, it comforted us by offering a pretty traditional happy ending pattern: you get your fancy dinner with your special someone, the romantic music plays, and you have a place to call your own. Season one’s finale provided a temporary freedom for Aziraphale and Crowley, the “breathing room,” but it didn't solve the problem that was Heaven and Hell, or the agendas belonging to those systems of oppression. 
Is it good enough to keep our heads down, pretend the bad stuff isn’t happening, and live our own personal happy endings until we die? Moral quandaries aside, if you don't die (or if you care about the generations after you), then, like Aziraphale said, it “can’t last forever.” There’s a clear unpleasant end to the “happily ever after” that’s based on ignoring our problems– it’s the destruction of our relationships, and humanity. 
Ineffable Bureaucracy can go off into the stars because they do not care about humanity. 
You know who does?
Aziraphale. 
And Aziraphale knows that Crowley cares about humanity too. (He knows because Crowley was the one who proposed sabotaging Armageddon in the first place, who only invited him to the stars when he thought all was lost, because Crowley would save humanity if he thought it was possible, and Aziraphale knows Crowley has survived losing Everything before, and he will do all in his power so that Crowley does not need to experience that again.) 
In season one and two, we see how much they care about humanity, beyond their orders, to the point The Systems begin to frown at them. Aziraphale hears Crowley’s offer to run away together in the final episode of season two, to leave Earth behind, and just like the first time that offer was made in season one, he declines. He knows choosing only “us” is not a choice either of them can live with for the rest of eternity.
I believe season 3 will provide an opportunity to “dismantle the system,” but I don’t know how it will play out. I worry that Aziraphale has put himself in the now-dead trope of the “young noble king.” (I wish Crowley had told him why Gabriel was dismissed from his duties.) I worry that he would martyr himself as a sole agent for change. I worry that he doesn’t actually know how to dismantle anything by himself: because you can’t. He needs Crowley. He DOES. He needs Crowley, and Muriel, and other angels and demons and humans without fixed mindsets to help him. Only by learning to listen and making room at the table for all can they (and we) move past personal satisfaction to collective liberation. 
Crowley was right when he said that Aziraphale had discovered his “civic obligations.”
So, I think we will get our modern-day happy ending– and it’s going to involve a lot of pain and discomfort, communication, healing and teamwork– and in the end, it’ll all be okay. There will be a time for rest and a time for “us.” 
And most likely a cottage. 
“Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.”
 - Maya Angelou
Support the SAG-AFTRA strike and other unions. Trust @neil-gaiman. Register to vote if you haven’t yet. Hold yourself and others accountable with compassion. Read books. Keep doing the work. Rest. Then watch Good Omens 2 again.  
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eddiernunson · 9 months
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Take My Anger | mean!Eddie x Reader | 18+
Summary: Eddie is pissed after a session from Hellfire and you offer for him to take his anger out on you.
Warnings: This is...intense. Mouth fucking, lots degradation, use of stop/go, slight dom!eddie, light after care, reader is in established relationship with Eddie. Also depicts him being a dick about Dustin but never to his face.
Based on a conversation I had with the lovely @oddussy420 thank you for the inspo <3
Words: 2.4k
Disclaimer: I wrote this high as shit. That's all.
Eddie walked out of his Hellfire session as his friends celebrate feeling frustrated. Dustin kept finding out his plots and purposefully picking against him…somehow. As the beginning of the semester aired, Eddie realized quickly he would have to up his game when Dustin picked up on his usual storytelling methods. Either Gareth, Josh, and Peter weren’t that observational or just didn’t care enough to pay attention, but Dustin picked up on his three methods in a mere four weeks.
Eventually Dustin started challenging him by picking against the usual route. It made Eddie need to learn how to think on his feet and dig through his own list of plots he’d came up with mentally. It certainly made Eddie prepared at almost every twist, eventually he met Dustin’s challenges with a half-smirk. Eddie’s rise in confidence had to do with several factors, but for time and storytelling reasons we’ll get into two of them (for now).
One, Eddie had practice with Dustin being a shithead. Loads and loads of it, the point where he had come to welcome Dustin’s alternative routes and sometimes rely on them.
Two, Eddie spent weeks figuring out a quest where Dustin would think he’s leading again but Eddie had everything planned out to work out so that no matter what they’d get to the big twist he had planned. He started to feel confident on his plan at this point.
Eddie spent damn near hours in that library researching and writing in his spiral notebook that was so tattered from the years of ripped out pages. He had given Dustin a ride home one late night after Hellfire, and as Dustin left, he caught a glimpse of the thing that Eddie had, quite frankly, been so obvious he didn’t want Dustin to see. If he hadn’t touched it, Dustin would never have known. Eddie kept trying to not so secretly keep it hidden, which was his dead giveaway.
Somehow, Dustin needed to get to that notebook. There’s only a handful of things that Eddie would be protective as he was. You, his guitar, his van, and his plans for DnD sessions. Luckily Josh, who doesn’t know a thing about Eddie and Dustin’s game of cat and mouse, was the one to provide the combination. During Eddie’s free period where he’s usually found making out with you in the forest or goofing off in the drama room, Dustin went into his locker and picked up the graffitied notebook.
It had every answer, and Dustin had to say he was impressed. He would have to be sneaky to throw him off to a different route this time. In a manner of ten minutes of a quick study Dustin knew the plan, and it happened to be one Eddie was excited and hyping up for the group for that same Friday. Dustin came up with his own counter-move for everything, knowing Eddie would want to lead to the big twist and Dustin would move away.
When the day came, Dustin had managed to throw off the story and quest completely, and Eddie saw red. Of course, he knew Dustin was only playing the cat and mouse game, but it felt like his weeks of work and his excitement was just something to laugh at than indulge in for Dustin. As the game ended, Dustin offered his hand to shake for no hard feelings. You walk into the drama room, bounce down the stairs, your ponytail swinging down each step as you say goodbye to the members already leaving.
Oh, the last reason he became more confident? You finally asked him out and you and him had gotten together.
You watch as Eddie meets the handshake nodding to Dustin to let him know they were okay. However, one look at Eddie told you he was pissed. He has all the tell-tale signs. The locked jaw, hardened eyes, the overly intimidating posture. He smiles as his friends leave but the smile is nowhere near his eyes. You have no idea how they didn’t see his anger.
Maybe Eddie’s just good at knowing what he was angry at.
The last person lets the door slam behind them, and it’s loud in the silence that follows. “Hey, baby.” You greet him, walking up to stand face to face with him.
Eddie gulps, looking down at the table blankly as his arm wraps around your back. “Hey,” he answers, his voice gruff and short.
You hesitate in your question, gently caressing his tense back. “How…how was Hellfire?”
Eddie takes a large inhale in, as if calming himself. “That shithead Henderson…” He does it again, closing his eyes. “That shithead Henderson found my notebook and memorized everything.” He stops talking, finding himself getting a bit worked up. “I spent weeks on that campaign just for him to…” he sighs, leaning onto the table, “just for him to destroy it in an hour.”
“Oh, baby that sucks.” You emphasize with him.
“Yeah, no shit it sucks!” Eddie laughs, walking from you towards the head of the table where his throne sits.
Okay, now he’s being mean with you, too.
He sits down on the throne, his one leg hanging over an arm rest. You checked the time, knowing this session ran late and wanting to catch that movie that he asked you to. If he’s pissed to the point of being just plain mean it would take some time calming to get him down to regular mad.
Fuck. He’s never this way after an orgasm, it would roll right off his shoulder. An idea.
You observe where Eddie is sat in his throne, deciding you could fit in the space between the table and his legs. Eddie doesn’t even notice you crawling under the table on your bare knees until you reach his line of sight on the floor right in front of him.
“Whoa, what’re you doing down there?”
“You couldn’t see me anywhere else.” You shrug. You sit back on your knees, looking up at him with that stare you knew got to him. Wide eyes, big smile. He loves it when you’re eager. “Is there anything I could do to help you feel better?”
“No, I’ll be fine. I’m just pissed.”
“Anything?” You ask crawling up between his legs. “You don’t need help taking your frustrations out…any other way?” Your hands move up and down his legs, watching as he immediately leans back and sighs. His brown eyes remain fixated on yours. Offering a blowjob is one thing, but offering this? Holy fuck, has he won the lottery.
“What’re you offering?” Eddie asks, sounding uninterested.
You don’t buy it for a second. “Use my mouth. Fuck it, then you’ll feel much better when I swallow.”
Eddie’s chest rapidly inflates in response, his eyes welcoming that sprinkle of lust he usually has. “Then do it.” Your hands work fast, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans as fast as possible. He chuckles darkly as he legs his pants fall to his knees, watching you eagerly eye his cock. “Get to it.”
You wrap your lips around the head, sucking lightly as a tease. It happens only for a second as a harsh hand lands on your neck and forces you down further on it. Perfect. You bob your head up and down, getting it nice and wet. As you continue, saliva naturally curates and you let it all drool on to him, spit and slobber covering your hand you had supporting you and your mouth. “Oh shit.” Eddie comments, watching you through half-mooned eyes.
Since you suggested him fucking your mouth it was all that was in your brain. You find his hand again, placing it around the base of your ponytail. Eddie immediately takes it into his fist and moves your head so harshly you’re surprised by the initial move. He kept up the movement, eventually muttering to himself. “Oh, take that cock. Oh shit, fucking whore, you take it.”
Just when you adjusted to him suddenly, he pushes himself down your throat, his treasure trail meeting your nose. How did his treasure trail smell so good? You clutch onto his jeans in front of you, tears forming as he stays in the back of his throat and doesn’t move. When it’s been a longer time than usual, Eddie can sense your curiosity. “I wanted to see how long you could take this, a cock at the back of your throat. What a good whore I have…” It was only a minute more when you hit Eddie’s thigh twice, air needed to be brought to you or you would’ve passed out. He places a hand beneath your chin, staring at you in awe as you catch your breath. Your face looked a disaster, your eye makeup a tad runny while your mouth was covered in your own spit. He loved it.
“Bend over.” He commands, and from the authority in his voice you don’t have a damn option. Your underwear is snatched off you, it’s not even down to your knees when Eddie slips into you without pacing himself. He moved right into bucking his hips against yours, the slap of them bouncing harsh enough to bruise. “Baby?” He asks, his voice soft for one moment.
“Go.” You let him know.
“Fucking whore, letting me fuck her just to get some anger out.” His hand goes around your torso, his hands holding you harshly enough to bruise. “Fuck, pussy is so good, though. Look at me.”
You turn your head to face him, and he leans in to kiss you and he does so gently, his tongue sliding against yours with grace. He lets go of you, letting you fall forward on your chest on the table as he continues to buck his hips into you. That was purposeful; you realize. He wanted to embarrass you.
“Let your tits out, slut.” He orders you, his voice showing indifference as the little whines escape your throat. You move your dress down your torso off your shoulders, exposing your nipples to the hard linoleum table. Eddie lifts you up to him, turning you around so one leg was on his shoulder.
“Oh fuck.” You whimper as he starts to hit your g-spot at this angle.
Eddie stops his movements real quick “Hey. You’re the fuck toy. Shut up.” His crass choice treating you as such only turns you on more, your hand covering your mouth as your eyes roll into the back of your head in arousal. Eddie notices, your pussy becoming wetter in response. “Slut loves when I put her in her place.”
You nod your head, hand still on your mouth as you tried not to make another sound.
“The perfect fuck doll, baby. Take this cock so fucking well, goddamn whore.”
His hand reaches the now loose ponytail and pulls. You smile up at him, the reaction sends more anger through him as he pulls tighter. You manage not to moan in response but the pleasure that it sent through you was indescribable.  
“So fucking pissed, spent fucking…weeks…” He mutters, his hips still going at an unprecedented rate against you, his grip he now has on your forearm starting to feel sore. “Fucking steals…fuck you’re such a damn good whore.”
Heat remained explosive from your pussy, and though he’s barely put any attention on your pleasure you were almost there. “I-I’m close.” You mutter, and Eddie lets out a chuckle.
“Of course, you get off to being a fucktoy. It’s all you are.” He pounds into you a handful of times, feeling your heat flutter around him as you got closer. “Fuck, I’m close, too.” He puts the leg on his shoulder down and lies you flat on the table, the impact against your back harsh and cold. He places a hand around your neck, cutting your air off. “You’re not gonna cum until I tell you to. Understand?”
You nod, two hands gripping his strong forearm. He admires how his rings make a nice necklace around your throat.
His other hand meets your clit, starting to rub at it to purposely get you to that high as fast as possible. Eddie knew you so goddamn well he could time your orgasm to take however fast and slow he wanted. “Uh-uh,” Eddie tuts when he sees your entire body tense up in preparation for an orgasm. “Not yet.” He lets go of your folds, letting you feel the loss, then he places his hand there again.  
He repeats it, twice. Each time you get more and more desperate to cum, and Eddie can feel your pussy shaking from it.
“AH!” He tuts again, yanking his fingers as your eyes roll to the back of your head and your legs tense right up.
“Please, Eddie. Please.” You beg him, the overstimulation at this point too much. “Lemme cum, I need it so bad. Please.”
“Oh thank you for using your manners, whore.” Eddie uses his hand one more time on you, strategically getting you off at a calmer rate and loving how your face looks as you finally cum around him.
Heat invaded you as you finally cum, your body going limp as Eddie continues to fuck you. He’s gone in seconds, the entire time he was torturing himself, as well. The afterglow kicks in, and Eddie slips himself out of you as his hand swipes your face lovingly. “Oh, baby. My sweet girl.” He stays laying down with you until he sees you come back down to earth, and you inhale and exhale deeply, attempting to catch your breath. “There she is. You did so fucking good, baby.”
You smile up at him, your heart expanding. “Yeah?”
“Fuck.” Eddie swears, a laugh escaping him. “We definitely missed the movie, but we can go look at the stars, again, if you want.”
“Out in the field by your place?” You ask hopefully, remembering one of your first dates where he spent most of the night eating you out.
He places his hands delicately on your cheek, kissing you with all the love in the world. “Of course, sweetheart.”
You sigh, your heart still racing.
He can feel your heart still pounding against his chest. “You okay to walk?”
“I’ll need a few more minutes, stay with me.”
He let you crawl into his arms until you recovered, making himself pissed for not having a source of water on hand. “Grab some food later?”
You nod in his chest, taking in the scent of the cologne on the shirt he didn’t take off. “Are you feeling any better?”
“Miles, thank you so much for that, sweetheart.”
You smile into his chest, proud of getting him to handle his anger in a way you’ve talked about. “Of course, baby.”
Thank you so much for reading! I love to read your comments, replies, and reblogs. As always, reblogging is the best way to support your fic writers on tumblr.
Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinncore @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you
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queenofapeacefuldawn · 2 months
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SxF Crack Theory: The Identity Of [REDACTED]'s Father
Hear me out here.... but, maybe, Twilight's father could be Yuri's boss, aka, the SSS Lieutenant.
Now, this might be a crack/joke theory, but here is the evidence I have to back up my claim (yes, I'm presenting it because I'm just Like That):
(Warning: Manga spoilers ahead)
Exhibit A: Physical Characteristics
Here is a picture of Agent Twilight:
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Here is a picture of Yuri's boss (who, from now in, will be referred to as YB, for my own convenience):
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We can see that Twilight and YB have very similar facial characteristics: bluish-grey eyes, blond hair, and a similar face shape (nose, jaw).
We never see Twilight's father's full face: only the lower half, because he has presumably forgotten his face, along with his mother's (King of Emotional Repression™️), but we can see that his jawline and shape of his mouth are very similar to Adult Twilight.
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Oh, and look at that- rather pronounced cheekbones, if I do say so myself. Where else did I see those? Hmmm
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Exhibit B: Ambiguous Fate
During the War Arc, we're never told about [REDACTED]'s father's fate. We just know he never returns to his family: and the reason why he left for the very last time, was that, "Things have been heating up at the border. I need to take a little business trip." The fact that his, a (presumably) rather important man's, body was never recovered: nor were [REDACTED] or his mother informed of his death. Of course, his body could have been lost in the bombings, or the part of [REDACTED] finding out about his father's dead could have been omitted, but for most of the part, we're left to assume about his father's dead. And... this sounds familiar to another instance...
Like the instance of [REDACTED]'s friends. He (and we) assumed they'd died in the warehouse as children, but later we see that they're alive and in the army (only to die a second time, RIP), but this time, for their deaths to be confirmed: for [REDACTED] to only receive their dog tags after the failed campaign.
This may have been a setup: for Endo to reintroduce [REDACTED]'s father, later in the story, as YB.
Anyway, one thing I've learned after reading and watching so many books, comics, and TV shows: never assume a person's dead, not unless their body/proof of their death has been explicitly shown. This belief was only reinforced after [REDACTED]'s friends.
And, [REDACTED]'s father's last known place was around the Westalian-Ostanian border. He could have escaped in the crossfire, theoretically...
Exhibit C: Fatherly Nature (?)
We all love a good found-family dynamic in the workplace. It's there with WISE, it's there with Garden, and it's kinda there with the SSS.
My main argument about this stems from the chapter which focuses on Yuri's work.
We see YB continuously worry about Yuri's physical health, in panels like:
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Obviously, this doesn't happen only in this chapter. Whenever Yuri's there, YB is also there, yelling at him to a) go to sleep, or b) STOP GETTING HIT BY BUSSES OH MY FUCKING GOD IT CAN'T HAPPEN SO MANY TIMES TO ONE PERSON-
And, of course, there's the Yuri Sick Fic chapter:
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Not gonna lie, this point is extremely weak, if I brought this up in court I'd be laughed out of there-
Anyway, I just wanted to put this in.
If it does turn out that YB is [REDACTED]'s father then. Bestie. Buddy. How are you managing to be a better father-figure to some insolent kid who gets hit by busses than you were to your actual son, like 20 years ago. Maybe he learned along the way.
Exhibit D: Symbolism (???)
Oh, look, another point I'm pulling out of my ass! But whatever, you're reading it <3
During the War Arc, we see Twilight sustain two major injuries:
One, as a child, when his home is bombed:
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And two, as an adult, in the army:
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and these injuries are both to his left eye.
Of course, this has given rise to theories of him not being able to see his left eye, it being his blind spot, and Yor guarding his blind spot on missions, etc., etc., which I love bc ✨Twiyor✨
Getting back on point, if we look at YB, we see that he has injuries too... or rather, remnants of them, what with the scars he has...
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which, are also on his left eye. Huh! Interesting... this might just be me, but could this be parallels to how similar he and his father were? Are? His father also wanted peace between Ostania and Westalis: but he taught his child that in a very harsh manner (by slapping him), but Twilight wants to teach Anya that in a kind manner. Whenever we see him teaching her, he never loses his cool with her (of course, he loses a lot of hope, but this man's a pessimist, what can we do).
Also shows how much kinder Twilight is, compared to his father.
---
Of course, these points are very weak, and it might just be that Endo reused some character designs for efficiency, but let me be, ok!! This is a crack theory!!! Let me be a clown!!!! AKDFJSJF
If I'm being honest, this post was inspired by a convo I'd had with my friend, around the time Chapter 86 was released. She was theorizing that [REDACTED]'s dad is the Shopkeeper, and I was theorizing it was this dude. Of course, our theorizing was sidetracked by Chapter 86, and a certain panel within it, but... WHATEVER.
So, what are your thoughts? Obviously, my own theory is very weak (for example, why would the SSS accept a Westalian citizen into their ranks? Why would he even join the SSS? Could he have defected? Abandoned his wife and kid?), but this was fun to think about, lol. What are your theories? I think the Shopkeeper-is-the-dad theory and the YB-is-his-dad theory are both cool, so, what do you think?
(Also, yeah, I know, his dad could very well be dead. I just refuse to believe it, bc I'm just Like That <3)
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saberlight1 · 3 months
Text
pretty boy — matt murdock
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pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader.
warnings: language, fluff, established relationship, standard daredevil warnings.
authors note: hiii! since rewatching daredevil, my matt and frank obsession has been back up n running (not that i’m complaining). and this is based on this request, thank you anon <3. i love this little fluffy fic, i hope you enjoy this!
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You watched the snowflakes fall with a calm smile on your face. You had always adored this time of year, especially when it snowed. It was just something about how the never ending buzzing of Hell’s Kitchen would just stop for a moment— just peace and quiet. It never failed to calm your nerves, whatever worries that were on your mind washing away with the snow hitting the ground.
You were sat on your boyfriend’s couch wrapped up in a blanket with a book in your hand, soaking in the tranquility that this type of weather brought you. Matt’s apartment was always one of your favorite places— it was always so quiet and the big, open windows granted you a sight to Hell’s Kitchen. Even with the bright build-board right outside, you still loved it. Most of all, you loved it because it was his. Everything in the apartment reminded you of Matt, thats why you spent as much time as possible here.
“Sweetheart?” Matt’s call broke you from your thoughts, and your heart swelled at his voice. You stood up immediately, walking over to where he was kicking off his shoes and jacket by the door.
“Hi, baby,” You smiled, your hands coming up to rest on his shoulders as his hands wrapped around your waist, drawing you closer.
“Hi,” He whispered as you took off his sunglasses. The second the lenses were off his eyes, the man brought his lips to yours.
Your smile only grew against his lips as you dug one of your hands into his hair— the man before you only growing more greedy against your lips.
You pulled back for air, a teasing look on your features. Matt may not have sight, but he could always tell when that look crossed your face. “Someone missed me, huh?” You cheekily teased.
His cold hands dove under the material of your— his shirt, causing a yelp to leave your lips as you attempted to get away from him.
He smiled brightly at you. “Of course I missed you,” His cold hands only traveled further up your back, and you knew the sneaky fucker could probably hear the goosebumps rising on your skin.
“Stop!” You giggled, trying to fight your way out of his arms, but you knew it was fruitless.
“Okay, okay,” He chuckled, relenting his cold hands from your warm skin. “‘m sorry, you’re just warm and it was fuckin’ freezing out there.”
You playfully rolled your eyes, your hands grabbing his own from your hips and wrapping them within your own in an attempt to warm them up. “I told you that this morning. Just because you’re the big, bad Daredevil doesn’t mean you don’t get cold, my love.” You joked, interlacing your fingers and leading him to your shared room.
He rolled his own eyes with a smile at your remark, you never failed to tease him for his vigilante ways— even when he came to you half dead and you had to patch him up, you still found a way to crack a joke to see his smile.
“Here,” You turned to him with a hoodie and sweatpants in your hands. “Get out of that suit so we can cuddle on the couch.” You left a kiss on his lips before turning on your heel and walking towards the kitchen.
Matt shook his head with a laugh, but did as he was told regardless. Once he was settled, he made his way towards where you were in the kitchen. You smiled softly when you felt his chest against your back and his arms slither around your waist. You leaned your head back onto his shoulder as he left small kisses along your neck.
“Hot chocolate, huh?” He murmured against your neck.
You rolled your eyes playfully at his use of his senses. “Yep, might help you warm up, Frozone.” You joked.
“I know you did not just compare me to that dude from Incredibles.” He scoffed, feigning offensiveness.
You giggled. “How do you even know that?”
“Honey, my ears still work.” He pinched your hip lightly. “When that movie came out all the kids at the orphanage loved it. Had to hear it at least three times a day,”
You grimaced at the thought. “That must’ve been torture, havin’ to constantly hear the plot of that movie.”
“It was.” He agreed.
“Don’t tell me you hate that movie, though.” You looked at him from over your shoulder, holding up a finger. “‘Cause that was my favorite Disney movie for a while..”
He started tickling you immediately, a loud squeal leaving your lips. “Oh, my girl has a basic taste in Disney movies?” He teased with a smile, talking slightly loud over your laughter. “Who would’ve thought?”
“Matthew!” You wheezed out, thrashing in his grip. He finally relented as you laid against him while you attempted to catch your breath. “Didn’t know you were so passionate about my taste..”
“Well, I gotta let you know if it’s a basic one.” He shrugged, a smirk on his lips.
“If it’s so basic, then how’d I pick you?” You bit back with raised brows.
A breathy chuckle escaped him, before he paused to lick his lips. “Fair play, honey.”
You only smiled in return, turning back to pour the pair of you a mug of hot chocolate. Matt let his eyes flutter shut behind you, resting his head in the crook of your neck as he relaxed to the sounds of just simply: you.
You smiled when you noticed what he was doing, one of your hands coming up to scratch his scalp. “It’s ready,” You softly said.
He pulled away from you to grab his mug. “Thank you, baby.” He left a kiss to the side of your head before wrapping an arm around your waist and leading you to the couch.
He placed both of your cups on the coffee table before lying down and dragging you into his chest, yet another yelp leaving your lips.
Your chin rested on his chest as you looked at him with questioning eyes.
“What?” He laughed. “I told you I missed you,”
You only smiled, leaning up slightly to bring your lips together. His hand immediately shot up to cup your jaw, the man also leaning up to deepen it. You’d never get tired of the way his lips chased yours, and how passionately he kissed you every time.
You pulled back for air, but not before leaving a couple small pecks to his lips.
“I love you.” He whispered.
“I love you, Matt.” You whispered back, leaving one last kiss to his lips before digging your head into the crook of his neck— the hot chocolate being long forgotten.
But in all honesty, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You were perfectly fine just as you were, wrapped up in your lover’s arms during a snowstorm.
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hannyoontify · 3 months
Text
little stars - kwon soonyoung
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member | non-idol!hoshi x illustrator!reader
genre | fluff, newly est. relationship
word count | 2k with some change
synopsis | soonyoung sees you without makeup for the first time, and he notices something he’s never seen before
warnings | reader wears makeup, reader has freckles on their face, reader is implied to have insomnia but it’s not prevalent to the plot, reader is ticklish, soonyoung has an extensive vocabulary of terms of endearment that borderline make me wanna hurl if they were used unironically, soonyoung makes a shrek reference
notes | i have freckles on the back of my hands and have always been insecure of them but i remembered how my ex used to kiss them and say they were beautiful
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Soonyoung’s not a criminal. He knows that. The last time he committed a serious crime was back when he was seven years old when he stole a new pack of crayons from his sister’s friends’ house after a play date.
(Two seconds after leaving said friend's house and he could no longer handle the overwhelming and crushing guilt and ended up running to his mom and crying, calling himself a “tiger thief.”)
So when Soonyoung urgently texts your best friend to ask for the password to your apartment, he can’t help but feel a dull pang of guilt in his chest as he inputs the numbers he sees into the digital keypad. His hands are shaking as the door unlocks and he fumbles through the doorway and upon your quiet and dark apartment.
It’s well past noon now and yet, there wasn’t a single hint of you in the living room and kitchen. The sink was still empty, the drying rack was full, the throw pillows on the couch looked too pristine, and the curtains were still closed. Fearing the worst, Soonyoung quietly made his way to your closed bedroom door, his sock-covered feet padding along the floor. 
He softly knocks once. Then twice. “[Name]?” No response. 
“[Name]? Baby? Are you awake?” When he doesn’t get a response, Soonyoung pushes the door slightly open. “I’m coming in…” 
In the dark room, all Soonyoung could perceive was a lump amidst the lush pile of stuffed animals and blankets, your sleeping form slowly rising and falling. “Baby…” He pushed the door wider, letting the minimal light from the living room stream past your doorway, shedding light into your dark room.
The lump under the big fluffy duvet stirred, squirming around as Soonyoung approached the side of your bed. He turned on the mushroom lamp you had on your bedside table and you let out a loud groan. 
While you stirred in your sheets, Soonyoung glanced around your room. He’d only been to your apartment a couple times in the past few months but he was already familiar to the layout of your bedroom. In the corner, next to the window was your desk with your extensive, impressive PC set-up. Sheets of half-drawn and unfinished pencil drawings were strewn across your drawing board and your desk was a flurry of paper, reference photos, and pencils.
Soonyoung felt a pang in his chest at the realization that you had probably stayed up until ungodly hours trying to finish your illustrations. You were an artiste and you had a bad habit of working until you practically dropped dead when you were struck by a lightning of inspiration.
“[Name], love, it’s time to wake up. It’s already past 3 in the afternoon. Sleeping is for the nighttime.” You poked your head out of the blanket, the edge of the fluffy duvet resting right below your eyes and covering the rest of your face. 
You stared at him blankly with bloodshot eyes and Soonyoung swore he saw—and heard—the gears turning in your head. It took you a couple seconds to recognize your boyfriend. “Soonie?” You croaked out, your voice still hoarse having woken up just seconds before.
Soonyoung smiled at the nickname and affectionately patted your head. “Time to wake up, sleepy head. Don’t wanna ruin your sleep schedule. Late night, huh?”
You nodded and rubbed an eye. “Deadline was…” You yawned. “Last night. Couldn’t sleep either.”
Soonyoung nodded sympathetically. 
“What- what time is it?” You blinked at him with the blanket still covering the rest of your face. Your hair was a tussled mess that was fanned out on the pillow behind you.
“3 pm, baby. C’mon. Let’s get you out of bed.” Soonyoung gently pulled the blanket away, revealing the rest of your face and your matching tiger pajamas. Your boyfriend stared at your clothes, an ambiguous look in his eyes that made you unsure of whether he found your pajamas adorable, or if he simply coveted your clothes and hence boosting you up to top 3 on his rob list, next to his model friend, Joshua and his tiger striped patterned button-up.
(That button-up wasn’t even his, it was something his stylist had just put on him for one of his magazine photo shoots.)
Meanwhile, reality had finally begun to settle in for you as you just realized that your new, hot boyfriend was standing in your bedroom, fluffy hair galore. He was standing over you with a twinkling look in his eyes, clad in a pair of black sweatpants and a white tank top, his muscles flexing and rolling as he tugged the blanket off of you.
You then suddenly became painfully aware of your appearance. You were in your embarrassing tiger character pajamas and your face was painstakingly bare. Your hands flew up to your hands and you flipped over, burying your face into your pillow with a loud groan. 
“Soonie, can you wait outside for me?” Your voice was muffled by the fabric of your pillow. 
Soonyoung reached out for your shoulder and his eyebrows scrunched up with worry. “Why? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
With your hands still covering your face, you rolled back and peeked at your boyfriend through your fingers. “I’mmph mmm wmmph any mammphup.”
Soonyoung chuckled and gently grabbed your wrists. “Baby, I can’t understand what you’re saying.” 
“I’m not wearing any makeup,” you whined. “You’ve never seen me barefaced before, I’m embarrassed.”
“Nooooo, baby, lemme see your hot and sexy face,” When you wouldn’t budge, Soonyoung sighed in fake exasperation. “Then you leave me no choice.”
He crawled into the empty spot next to you in bed and wrapped his big arms around you, prying your hands away from your face. 
You giggled and wriggled away from Soonyoung, using everything within you to try and hide from your boyfriend who was now currently pinning you to the mattress jiu-jitsu style. You shrieked when Soonyoung’s cold fingers dug into your sides, causing you to writhe around under him, like a fish without water. You gasped for air as Soonyoung tickled you but your hands still firmly covered your face.
“Baby, babe, pookie bear, my sweet sugar plum, my snookum bear, honey bunch, sweet cheeks, pooh bear, pudding pie, my cutie patootie, snuggle bear,” Soonyoung gently grabbed your wrists again. “I don’t care if you’re the pretty princess version of Fiona or the ogre version. I’ll be the Shrek to whichever version you are, because,” Soonyoung placed a hand over his chest and spoke after a dramatic pause. “It’s the heart that truly matters.”
You snorted. 
“Are you laughing at me and my Shrek analogy? You know it took me a long time to think of that.” Soonyoung seemed to deflate and he pouted.
“Of course not baby. I think your Shrek analogy is genius,” You peeked through your fingers, just in time to see his chest swell again with pride–you had complimented his Shrek analogy! “But I’m still not showing you my face.”
“BABY NOOOOO,” Soonyoung dramatically threw himself against you, his fingers seeking refuge in your armpits this time, causing you to erupt into a fit of giggles. “LEMME SEE YO FACEEEEE.”
“Nooooo,” you whined. Despite your protests, you couldn’t help but giggle as Soonyoung tried different combinations of kissing and tickling to try and get you to open up.
Thanks to his stubbornness and his iron grip, he was finally able to pry your hands off your face and pinned them against the pillow next to you. In the midst of wrestling you, Soonyoung had ended up on top of you, his legs straddling your waist and he looked down at you with a triumphant grin. “Gotcha.”
His eyes were roaming around your face, evidently studying you as you tried to avoid eye contact. Your giggles slowly subsided, and you heard Soonyoung trying to catch his own breath. When he finally managed to lock his eyes with your own, there was a softness in his eyes in the way he looked at you that you had never seen before.
Breathless, Soonyoung spoke softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “You… have freckles…”
“H-huh?” You felt your cheeks burning as your boyfriend timidly brought a hand up to your face. His fingertips softly grazed your skin, his touch so light and gentle, you would’ve thought it was just a light gust of wind if you hadn’t been paying attention. Soonyoung’s eyes stayed trained on your cheeks, his eyes examining each and every individual freckle with a gentleness you had never seen from him before.
You’ve always been aware of the freckles on your face, but they’ve never received this much attention from someone before. It felt awkward, but it also felt… intimate. It felt nice for your beauty marks to be appreciated, and your heart swelled with affection at the sweet gesture from your boyfriend. 
Soonyoung continued to study the freckles, his fingers lightly tracing your skin with a feather-like touch. As if he was trying to commit every single detail of you to memory. Finally, his eyes meet yours and the corner of his lip tugs up, hinting a smile. “You’re beautiful.”
You feel the heat on your cheeks spreading across your face to the tip of your ears and you become unsure of how to respond. Sure, you’ve received compliments before, but not like this. No compliment you’ve ever received has ever been this intimate or vulnerable. The way Soonyoung said those two words made it sound like a secret. A secret that he uttered quietly into the void, whispering it into existence, just for you to hear. A secret only the two of you would know.
You thought your heart was about to burst. 
Soonyoung cupped your face with both his hands and his thumbs rubbed gently against the soft skin on your cheekbones. You blinked up at him, watching his big, dark eyes roam around your face. The light of your mushroom lamp reflected in his eyes, sparkling and shining with a child-like wonder. 
Your room was dimly lit, the muted colors in your room solely provided by the small lamp on your bedside table. It had begun to rain at some point, the dull pitter-patter of the rain against your window replicating the beating of your heart. 
After what seems like forever, you finally speak up. “Soonie?”
Soonyoung begrudgingly tears his eyes away from your freckles and looks into your own, shining eyes. “Yes, baby?”
“I–” you faltered, unsure of what to say. You pursed your lips and stared at your boyfriend who gave you a soft, loving smile. “Are my freckles that interesting?”
Soonyoung’s grin grew into a boy-ish one and he reached over and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “Yes, honey. I want to commit every part of you to memory. I want to learn the story behind every freckle and scar. I want to learn all of you.” 
You felt an unfamiliar warmth stir in your heart, that soon spread throughout the rest of your body, through your fingertips and every cell of your being. Your heart fluttered. Was this what poets and lyricists meant when they wrote of love
“They’re like… I mean, I’m not a poet but-” Soonyoung fumbles as he searches for the right words to describe the immeasurable admiration and love he felt for you. 
Your freckles were strikingly beautiful and Soonyoung felt the wind getting knocked out of him when he first saw the sweet brown sugar sprinkled on your nose and cheekbones. They were like April rain showers that sprinkle the green grass with yellow flowers and Soonyoung thought your face mimicked the night sky, your freckles glinting and gleaming like countless stars. 
“Your freckles… they remind me of beautiful constellations. They can create illustrations in the night sky by connecting the dots and they tell stories, your stories.” Soonyoung paused. “And I love them.”
Your breath catches in your throat. Was he-?
“I love you.”
Soonyoung gazed down at you with an uncertain look, his eyes searching your own for some kind of response. His heart hammered against his chest as he wondered if you felt the same way yet. 
You did. 
“I love you too, Soonyoung. And baby?”
“Hm?”
“That was so much better than your Shrek analogy.”
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reblogs and feedback are always appreciated ^-^
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heaven4lostgirls · 6 months
Text
promises and dreams
pairing: finnick odair x reader
warning: angst, mentions of throwing up and blood, canon typical death and violence included!
summary: finnick odair is your best friend, but somehow you cant find it within yourself to be aanything more. Now that the 75th Hunger Games calls for Victors to be reaped you make it your plan to bring Finnick back home to Annie or you will die trying
word count: 1.3k
a/n: sorry ive been gone for so long! i have just finished uni so i am working on getting some more content out as soon as i can! have this to tide you over in the mean time but i can't wait to get back to posting! part 2?
part 1, part 2, part 3
You were sitting in the victors village of district 4 as you turned on the television to listen to the reaping news for the 75th Hunger Games. Your glass on the table in front of you was filled with amber liquid to quell the anxiety you felt as you hear Snow’s grating voice flood your home. Your hands are shaking as you’re forced to relive the memories of your own hunger games, which you had won at only 16.  
The victors that came after you were mentored by either you, or Finnick Odair, the Capitol’s prince. You had a harder time disassociating from  being a mentor when your tributes were in the games, Finnick always seemed so determined to get them sponsors and help them  in any way he could but for you, it was almost as worse as being in the games yourself.
Finnick and you had always been close, only drifting apart when his womanly companions found it necessary, he spend more time with them rather than you. You couldn’t blame them, if Finnick was yours you too would probably be uncomfortable but that never meant it hurt any less to see your best friend discard you as though you were nothing.
The only person you could never find it in yourself to dislike was ironically the only one of his  partner’s that  never dismissed  you, Annie Cresta. She was the epitome of beauty to you, there was no question about why Finnick fell in love with her. She had  been dealt just as bad of a hand in her own games and the both of you had found solace in one another. She could  not have been a better fit for Finnick and although your heart felt as though it was shattering each time you were forced to watch him look at her the way you longed, he would  look at you, you stayed strong.
That was how you found a paternal comfort in Haymitch Abernathy, Katniss Everdeen’s mentor, he was one of the only people who understood how easy it was for you to turn to drinking in favour of trying to find your tributes sponsors because of your own trauma. He knew just as well as you did just how  hard your games were for you; you had fought tooth and nail to make it back to your family only for them to turn you away in disgust for the atrocities you had committed in the games.
One of them always haunting you, You and 12-year-old George were the last tributes standing in the arena and you knew straight away that there was no way you would  be going home, you couldn’t kill him. That was until he ran to attack you and in a strike of defence you had pushed him, he had landed on one of the spears of the dead tributes. His lifeless eyes have haunted your nightmares to  this day.
As you tune back into the Capitol TV, you hear Snow’s voice state, “…the third quarter quell games, the male and female tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of victors from each district”. Your heart thuds inn your chest as bile rises in your throat. You can feel your eyes burning with unshed tears as you disconnect from reality.  The only thing that brings you back is the realisation that the other victors may  just as well be in the same predicament.
You get up to go to Finnick’s house, the light is on, so you know he must be at home so as you knock on the door, shaking on the front step in either coldness or fear, you’re no longer sure, you’re greeted with Finnick’s hard gaze as he opens the door to let you in. You whisper a small greeting as your eyes travel to the couch in front of the TV where Annie sits, she’s a mess of tears and you can only hold off for so long before you make your way towards her to comfort her.  
Finnick watches the both of you in pain and worry as you try and keep yourself composed to focus on Annie, you know just how hard it must  be for her, she had never truly been okay after her games so right then you had made the decision. If Annie’s name was ever called, you would volunteer for her, you could not sit at home and watch one of your best friends relive their pain on national television as you sat back and did nothing.
“I can’t believe this; how can they  do this?  After our games we were supposed to live! I can’t go back there” Annie says, and you softly rock the both of you as you rub her back, you look over her shoulder to where Finnick is standing and watching you both as his features tighten in anger.
“It’s going to be okay, I promise, you’re not going into that arena, okay?” Annie pulls away and looks  up at you in shock and she’s shaking her head as she lifts her hand to her mouth to stifle her sobs. “You can’t” She says, and you smile back at her as you tuck her long hair behind her ear as you move to hug her, whispering in her ear, “I will make sure he comes back to you” and Annie  squeezes you tighter.
You realise then that whatever happens in the reaping and the games, that  its much bigger than you. Since Finnick had a high chance of volunteering for any of the younger and older victors you  knew that it was up to you to bring him back home. He had a reason to come back, Annie needed him more than you did, and you acknowledge that even if he had never loved you the same way you may love him, that with you dying breath you would make sure he came back to Annie.
The day of the reaping, you stood in the middle of Annie and Mags as they took out  the name for the female tribute, “The female tribute from District 4 is, Annie Cresta-“ Before the announcer is done speaking your mouth moves without thinking, “I volunteer as tribute.” You state with confidence and hear Annie flinch as tears rise in her eyes. You let go of her hand and walk to the front of the podium, the announcer looks at you in shock and sympathy before she announces, “Our Volunteer in place of Annie Cresta, Y/N Y/LN!” she states.
You feel Finnick’s hard gaze on you as they wait for the announcement of the male tribute. When Finnick’s name is called, your heart clenches in pain at the thought of your best friend having to see you die in the arena. His demeanour instantly  switches to play the part of the Capitol’s  prince as he makes his way to stand next to you.  You both smile at the crowd as you make your way towards the train to say goodbye  to your loved ones.
As Finnick and Annie say heartfelt goodbye’s you realise that nobody has come to see you, you wipe the tears pooling in your eyes as Annie turns to you after saying bye to Finnick, she runs and hugs you and thanks you softly in your ear. You squeeze her tightly and reiterate your previous promise before you’re met with the solemn gaze of Finnick.
You nudge him with your arm and playfully tease him, “That looks isn’t very Capitol Prince of you Finn”, his strained smile does not go unnoticed, but you attest it to the pain of having to relive the games however the only thought running through Finnick’s  mind is how he plans on keeping you safe.
Somehow you both think that trying to save the other might just be your own downfall.
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runningfrom2am · 5 months
Text
leveling the playing field IX
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summary: with nowhere else to go after getting caught cheating to help lucy gray, you both make some desperately stupid decisions.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 2.6k
tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and mentions of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there
masterlists // nav // requests
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a/n: here we are!! 'season' two!! thanks so much for reading it and I'm SO so glad lots of people seem to love it :) if you do, please reblog it or leave your thoughts in the replies or in my inbox! i love hearing from you and talking about it so don't be a stranger !
without further adieu,, enter buzzcut coryo <3
next part
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Coriolanus's stomach twisted as he could hear your screams from the hall, even though by then he was all the way on the other side of the school. He thought that was unsettling, only for them to abruptly stop just before he left. The silence that followed was so much worse. He didn't get any sleep, sitting on the roof in Grandma'ams rose garden with Tigris all night, wondering if you were dead.
He was just sick about it, even as he left the following morning, so early that the sun was yet to rise. It was a long, painful ride, and he spent the entire thing certain that you were dead. It was his fault, he had only wanted you to come with him, so he wouldn't be alone, but now he truly is alone and he won't even have you to write to back home. Regardless, he would try.
Rather than sit with the idea that it might even be pointless for him to live another day, especially with this unflattering haircut and a uniform that challenged the discomfort of the academy one, he decided to write to you on a paper he had found bunched between the train seats to ease his mind.
Y/N/N,
I hope you're reading this. I hope this gets back to you at home and finds you safe and sound, and you're sitting over your desk with a textbook open getting ready for university in the fall. That's not what's happening though, is it? You're probably dead. I probably killed you. If you are reading this in your room, or your library, or over my shoulder as I write this because you are only alive in what's left of your spirit, I hope you know that I am sorry. I did it because I wanted you with me, because in the moment I was so sure you'd be better off with me in the districts than you would be at home with your father. I think I was wrong. But I still miss you. You meant more to me than I ever told you. I guess, more than I ever told myself either until these last few weeks.
I think I heard them kill you after I left you with the Dean. If they did, boy, did you go out fighting. I always knew you would. I can't stop writing in case I never get to speak to you again. But again, maybe you're not dead, right?
Please tell me you're not dead.
Yours,
Always yours, your Coryo
He smoothes out the wrinkled sheet as he writes, hand shaking through most of it. He doesn't know if he should even bother sending it, or if he should just fold it up and throw it out the window in hopes that the message will find its way to your ghost. No, he has to send it. Otherwise he'll definitely never know, at least not for twenty years, and he couldn't bear that.
The wind hits the trees into the windows of the train as it rolls along the tracks, demanding that the branches be heard against the glass. It reminds him of you. Then again, what doesn't these days? Maybe it was just you letting him know you had read his letter, and that you forgive him. That would give him a semblance of peace for the rest of the ride.
When you woke up, it was impossible to tell what time it was. You only knew that it was dark, and your bedroom door was locked from the outside when you got up and carefully tried to open it only to be blocked by the mechanism.
"I have half the mind to agree with you on the Avox thing." You hear your dad sigh, his voice echoing from his study just down the hall. Your eyes widen and you try the knob again. Yep, still locked. "But we could always send her to Nine or Ten as a nurse. She's not staying here, that's certain."
"I don't want to push your decision, here, but she was saying she would tell everyone. She knows more than we thought, more details." Highbottom was here too, great.
"No, that's impossible. What did she say?"
"She knows we're selling, likely that you're storing it all here somewhere, and she knows it's enough to be treason. I don't know what else she knows, but it's risky business ever letting her out of that room again. The procedure might be our best option, here." You've heard enough, quickly making for your window instead. It's locked as well, but draping your old uniform over the lever gives you enough freedom to crush it with a particularly heavy, hardcover textbook without making much noise.
You change quickly, grabbing a few essentials that you could fit into your book bag, then climb out the window and slide down the back porch column before making as quiet of an escape as possible. Adrenaline carried you a few blocks away, but now, you were unsure what to do. You couldn't return, and you couldn't be seen, and you had a tragic shortage of friends at the moment. You find your feet carrying you toward the building you know Coriolanus lives in.
You're not particularly excited to see him, but with no other options, you're sure you can find it in yourself to be forgiving just this once. You could go to Sejanus's family home, but it's not far enough away, and you're not sure what his father would say. He'd probably call your dad in a second and it would all be for naught- you couldn't risk it. So, Coryo's it was.
You enter the building, walking straight for the elevator. He was in the penthouse, so you just have to hit the very top button and figure it out from there. You've never been to his home before, but he's talked about it plenty. Enough that you could find your way there, at least.
You groan when you quickly realize the elevator doesn't work, looking over at the stairs. It's a tall building, so you've got a long way to go. You wonder how he does this every day as you climb up set after set of stairs, taking note of how the walls are basically crumbling around you.
You knew he didn't have money, that he couldn't eat, but you didn't think he lived like this. No wonder he was so thin, and no wonder he still had any muscle left on his body. It was these damn stairs. That couldn't be it though, that wouldn't explain how his shoulders just seemed to go on for miles- maybe he had some kind of workout routine you never knew about.
You're drawn from your thoughts when you reach the top of the last staircase, hesitating to open the industrial looking door in front of you. Just beyond that was the front door to the Snow penthouse, and now that you're here, you're not sure what to do. Do you knock? You don't even know what time it is.
You sit by the door, deciding to think it over for a bit. It doesn't take you long to fall asleep leaning up against the wall where it meets the dusty floor.
Waking up, you're met with a gasp. "Y/N?" You blink open your eyes, seeing Tigris crouched in front of you, forehead creased with worry. "Are you okay? What are you doing here?"
"Tigris, hello." You mumble, gathering yourself to stand up as she helps you. "I, uh, I didn't know where to go, so..."
"Okay, okay. Come in for a second." She nods, holding your shoulder as she guides you back into the apartment. You squint at the sunrise through the large bay windows, she must have been on her way to work. "Can I get you anything? Some tea? You must be freezing..." She says, immediately shuffling into the kitchen.
"No, no. It's fine. Thank you, though." You insist, trying not to stare at the state the apartment has fallen into.
"Okay, well, please, take a seat. Tell me what's going on."
You nod slightly and move to sit down at their dining table where she joins you, reaching out for your hand which you gratefully take. "Did Coriolanus leave already?" You ask and she nods, giving you a sad smile.
"I must admit, I'm relieved to see you." She says, taking you by surprise. "Coryo thought you were dead. He was just so torn up about it, he said it was his fault but he wouldn't tell me why. I was expecting to see your passing in the papers this morning."
"Well, my days are numbered." You sigh, looking out the window again. The view was stunning. Maybe you would prefer a penthouse to your own large, empty feeling home. "My father and Dean Highbottom were discussing turning me into an Avox as a pity punishment, and I don't doubt that my father would rather bury me than have that on his name. I didn't stick around to hear their decision."
Tigris listens intently, squeezing your cold hands between her own. "And now, I don't know what to do. I had nowhere to go, I'm so sorry to intrude-"
"No, my goodness, please. You are always welcome here." She assured you. "But... what will you do?"
"I have to leave." You nod to yourself. "I have to leave and I can't come back, can I?"
"One day I'm sure it will be safe for you to return." She says, notably trying to put a positive spin on it. "I'll tell you what-" She stands quickly, going over to a hall closet and pulling out a large fur coat. "Take this, it can hide you and keep you warm. Take the next train to Twelve, that's where Coryo went." She places the coat in your lap. "He'll be ecstatic to have you and see that you're well."
You nod, standing up and pulling it on in a hurry. It was a beautiful coat, you could tell it was real fur. This must have belonged to one of their mothers. "Thank you, Tigris."
"There's another train headed there in about twenty minutes, if you rush you can make it. I had to check the schedule last night for him. Don't buy a ticket, just climb in a transport car from the opposite side, not the platform." She instructs you hurriedly,
You dig in your bag as you both head for the door, pulling out a handful of money and rifling through it to give some to her. You'll need some, but she will too.
"Here, Tigris. Take this." You say as she holds the door for you, and she instantly is shaking her head.
"No, no. I couldn't." She smiles awkwardly, waving a hand at you. "You'll need it more than I do, Coryo will be sending us cheques."
You smile at her understandingly, holding it out to her again. "If not for your help, then for this lovely jacket. Please take it. I insist."
Tigris sighs, taking it from your hand before pulling you into a hug which you gladly return. "Tell him we love him, okay?"
"He knows," You say, chin resting on her shoulder. "But I will."
It was dark again when your train reached its final stop, and you were curled up under the coat trying to sleep. You scramble to get up, having to bolt from the train before anyone came to unload the car.
Unfortunately, you didn't get the privilege of having a place to stay when you arrived, so once you're out of sight of the train, the best you can do is wander.
You don't have to wander long before you hear music. You didn't realize people were happy here, so the sounds of laughter and shouting and dancing coming from inside what looked to be an abandoned building made you tilt your head at the idea. Maybe you would just sit outside, around the side of the building where you won't be seen and you can listen.
You don't even get the chance to sit before you hear the singing start. It's Lucy Gray. You mentally scold yourself for not thinking of her sooner as you stand again quickly, finding yourself quite lightheaded. You must be hungry. Maybe there will be some food inside, or maybe you can find talk to Lucy Gray and maybe she'll let you stay with her. Just until you get yourself situated here.
Clutching your new coat tightly around yourself you walk in after attempting to dust off and salvage your clothes. Your favourite skirt and shoes took quite a beating throughout the day, and you're disappointed, to say the least. Hopefully Lucy Gray has a washing machine, but you doubt it. Did these people even know what a washing machine is? By the look of everyone in the room, the answer was a definite no.
Sure enough, Lucy Gray was on stage, singing her heart out. You had never seen her smile so wide, of course, and the kids surrounding her onstage were just as talented as she was at all their instruments. You've never seen live music like this before, only classical or opera where everyone sat quietly and listened until the end. This environment was entirely new to you.
Not wanting to interrupt, you wait until Lucy Gray steps offstage and her spot is replaced with a little blonde girl who couldn't have been older than ten.
"Give it up for the amazing Lucy Gray Baird!" The girl shouts into the mic, gesturing to your friend before more music started to play. "She'll be back, she's just taking a little break, but until then, you lot are stuck listenin' to me."
This is your chance. You push through the crowd and step into the hall you saw Lucy Gray go down. "Lucy Gray?" You call out hopefully, watching your step as to not roll a heel. In hindsight, these shoes were not ideal for the journey you took, but your options were limited by a time crunch.
"Lucy Gray?" You ask again, turning a corner and peeling into a large open room. It's a few moments before your eyes land on her, and she turns to face you having heard you walk in.
"Oh my days, I thought I recognized that voice!" She smiles, opening her arms and running up to you. "Y/N, my word, what are you doin' here?" Her excitement fades quickly into concern as she drops her arms from around you.
"Long story..." You chuckle nervously, pulling at your coat again as she nods for you to continue. "We got caught, for the compact. And the snakes, somehow. Coriolanus put our handkerchiefs that you used in the tank so they wouldn't attack you, I guess. I didn't know. Then they pulled us out of class the next day, he told them it was me, so then I put up a fight and they sedated me. When I woke up I was at home and they were talking about having my tongue cut out and turning me into one of those servants but I'm sure my dad would rather have me dead. So," You sigh, trying to summarize it as quickly as possible. "I ran."
Lucy Gray shook her head, mouth agape in shock at all the information she just took in. "Okay, wait... So they were going to kill you?"
You nod.
"But that teacher of yours seemed so nice."
"Sorry?"
"Yeah, he gave me some money and escorted me into the train himself."
You scoff, shaking your head. "He's never liked either of us, but that's only because I have dirt on him. I don't know what Coryo did."
"Well," Lucy Gray sighs, rubbing your shoulders gently. "I'm glad you're here. That you're safe."
"You too." You smile. "Can I just say, too, we were so proud of you. We were so lucky to be your mentors."
"I count myself the lucky one." She grins. "Let's move on, shall we? On the up and up."
"Yes, sounds lovely." You grin at her.
"Can I get you some water? Liquor? What do you need?" She asks, turning at that and going over to a bench in the middle that had a few water bottles.
"I would love some water." You breathe out, joining her and sitting down as she hands one to you.
"Lucy Gray, could I ask you for a really big favour?" You say after taking your first sip.
"Please." She nods.
"Can I stay with you?"
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lovingmattysposts · 4 months
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You don't know me 3
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pairing: y/n and chris sturniolo
summary: you and chris came from two different sides of the spectrum when it came to the social scale. You had the perfect life, the perfect boyfriend, the perfect parents, but when you start to peal back that layers things got messy. Your life was set and stone, your future was set and stone. That was until he comes and changes everything.
warnings: mentions of a toxic household, smoking
I looked up from the napkin to the house in front of me. It was about a ten minute walk from my house. I walked out without telling my parents where I was going. Not that they would necessarily care either way. Thank God that Max was at hockey practice. I sighed.
The house was small. A one story house with half dead, half alive, bushes that lined the front. The mailbox was broken and there was a porch on the front with railing. The broken mailbox read '1126 Evangeline St', matching the napkin.
The sun was starting to set, but it wasn't dark yet. I hated this time of year, when the sun set before 6 o'clock. Yet I loved the sunset. An internal battle. I should probably stop standing in front of the house and walk up to it. I took a deep breath before walking up to the house, walking up the steps. I let out a breath as I stood in front of the front door. Here we go, now or never. Time to clear my name for good. I raised my hand to knock and-
"You're early"
I jumped lowering my hand and placing it on my chest. I looked and saw Chris sitting in a chair on the other side of the porch. I dropped my head, trying to regain my pulse. I held up a hand. "Please stop doing that" I said looking up at him.
This wasn't the first time he's giving me an absolute heart attack by making his presence known. He didn't smile he just looked off towards the sunsetting. He was smoking, again. But it didn't look like a cigarette, I couldn't tell what it was.
I walked up to him slowly. He looked up at me before taking another hit of whatever he was holding. "It's 4:58 princess, I told you after 5" He said not looking at me. I furrowed my eyebrows before looking down at my watch. It was 4:58. Shit does that make me look weird? I looked up at him.
"Shit sorry" I said shaking my head. He shook his head. "No you're just gonna do what you want anyway, don't know why I tried" He said still not looking at me. I let out a sigh. Alright Chris. Enough with the shots.
"Okay I'm only gonna say this once, so listen-" I started but he cut me off. "Smoke?" He asked bringing his hand up to my face. I squinted at it. "No thanks" I said pushing his hand away from me. He shrugged. "Suit yourself" He said taking another hit. I just looked at him. I bit my lip tapping my foot, just get this out Y/n. Get this over with. "Look I-" I started again but was interrupted again.
"So do you only smoke cigarettes? I hope I didn't start an addiction. It's deadly you know" He said looking up at me. I glared down at him. I was tired of this. I didn't come here for him to treat me like this. I clenched my jaw as I looked down at him.
"No" I said though gritted teeth. He looked up at me. "So you do smoke other things?" He asked looking up at me. I felt anger start to rise in me. "I don't smoke cigarettes" I said looking at him. He looked up at me before setting down the thing he was holding onto a tray in front of him and standing up. I looked up at him. I stepped back slightly intimated by him.
"But you do though" He said tilting his head at me. I glared up at him. "Don't-" I started. Chris cut me off. "Because you smoked one the other night" He said smiling down at me. My blood was boiling.
"I-"
"Did your boyfriend taste the smoke on your lips?" He asked smiling sarcastically down at me. I tapped my foot, looking up at him. Staring into him. I felt my cheeks go red. He stepped toward me. I didn't move back. I just continued to glare up at him. I felt my teeth grind against each other. "Hm?" He hummed. I opened my mouth to say something.
"Or did he taste....something else?" He trailed off. I felt a grip form in my hands. He's asking to be punched right now. The way he's looking at me. The smiling demeanor. Just to piss me off. My lips formed a straight line. "Or....Someone else?" He asked looking down at me. I pushed him back violently. He just looked down at me.
"Listen!" I yelled pointing at him. He just looked at me raising his eyebrows at me. His smile dropping. I lowered my hand. This isn't me. I sighed. "I'm....sorry" I breathed, letting the anger go. His eyebrows furrowed. I shook my head. "You probably think I'm horrible" I said shaking my head. He tilted his head smiling and shrugged. I smiled and shook my head.
"I just don't even know if you would believe me if I told you the story" I said honestly looking up at him. He pursed his lips and shrugged. He turned and sat back down so I was standing in front of him. I looked down at him. He motioned for me to continue. I bit my lip and looked down.
"My boyfriend, Max, you know him" I said looking at him. He hummed closing his eyes and nodded. I bit back a smile, shaking my head. God, I shouldn't be smiling this much. I dropped my smile. I breathed getting ready to continue.
"I walked back into the party and I thought I saw him kissing another girl" I said looking at him. His eyebrows furrowed. "You thought?" He asked raising his eyebrows. I sighed starting to walk back and forth. "His shirt" I started. Chris was attempting to follow along but he looked confused. "His shirt, I thought it was blue when it was white. Long story short, it wasn't him" I said stopping and shaking my head. He hummed.
"But I didn't know that until after I had already kissed you" I said motioning to him. He nodded. "Right" He said looking at me with narrowed eyes.
"But I thought it was him and I was pissed and I didn't know what to do, I was so angry and I just wanted revenge. And you were so-" I said getting carried away. I stopped and looked at him. He looked at me raising his eyebrows. My face turned red.
"There" I breathed finishing my sentence. He hummed. "I was so...there. Right" He said nodded, laughing slightly. "Exactly! And I...." I said sighing. "Am so sorry" I said shaking my head. He just looked at me.
"I love my boyfriend. I mean were perfect for each other. He's great. I mean he's....nice and he loves me and I love him and I thought he cheated on me but he would never cheat on me so I don't even know why I thought that in the first place and I am such a horrible person because I totally cheated on him and I don't know what I was thinking because I'm totally not like that at all, I don't want you to think that I'm some slut who goes around kissing random boys when she has a boyfriend I mean I would have never have dreamed myself to cheat on Max, I love Max, but I was angry, and I kissed you, and I liked it which makes the whole situation so much worse and makes me feel so much worse and then I totally kissed you and then walked out with my boyfriend and I couldn't even look at you I was so ashamed and I probably look like exactly what you think I am when I'm totally the opposite I just sometimes get caught up in everything and I just needed to get this off my chest, I am so sorry." I breathed.
He just stared at me. Blinking at me. He leaned up clearing his throat. "Are you done?" He asked quietly. I sighed. "Yeah" I said looking at him. He nodded. I waiting for his response but it never came. He bent down reaching for the thing he was smoking. He took a hit.
"Now will you please take a hit of this, you're stressing me out" He said blowing out the smoke and lifting up to me again. I looked down at it, my heart still erratically beating from that confessional. I looked down at it and back up at him. "What is it?" I breathed.
"It'll make you calm the fuck down" He laughed. I looked down at it. He waved it back and forth. I reached down and took it out of his hands before bringing it up to my lips and inhaling. I took it back and started exhaling but immediately started coughing. Chris groaned standing up. I kept coughing, over and over.
"Jesus Christ" He groaned as I coughed. He handed me a water bottle which I took before drinking it. I swallowed and stopped coughing. Chris shook his head as walked past me to sit on the steps of the porch. I just looked at him. He looked over at me, waving me over and patting the seat next to him. I walked over sitting next to him.
"Thanks" I said handing him the water bottle. He took it and placed it next to him. We both just looked out onto the road. It had gotten a little darker. I could hear crickets chirping and the sounds of nature. It was peaceful over here. Unlike my house. All you could hear are the sound of cars or my parents arguing.
"When you inhale, you're suppose to hold it in for a second before exhaling" He said looking over at me. I just looked at him. He looked down at the thing in my hand before motioning me to give it to him. I handed it over before he took a hit and breathed it in. He held it for a few seconds before blowing it out.
"See" He said handing it back to me. I took it and looked down at it before bringing it up to my lips again, matching his motions. I blew it out and didn't cough. He smiled and nodded. I smiled back at him.
"Your boyfriend is not nice by the way" He said looking at me. I furrowed my eyebrows at him. "You said he was nice" He said mention back to my confessional. I just looked at him. He shook his head. "He is not nice" He said looking off. I looked down at my hand, pulling my bottom lip in between my teeth.
"I am really sorry about what happened" I said again. "Stop apologizing you're ruining my high" He said smiling. I smiled and looked down. I sighed. "I hate to ask this, but do you think you could just not tell anyone about what happened between us?" I asked looking over at him. He didn't look at me.
"I just don't want it to get back to Max" I said shaking my head. He was quiet for a moment, before finally speaking. "I wasn't going to say anything Y/n" He said looking at me. I smiled. "Thank you Chris" I said back. Suddenly I realized something. I turned to him.
"How do you know my name? I never told you" I said looking at him. He rolled his eyes and looked at me. "Stop pretending to be humble, Labraut" He said shaking his head. Oh, right. Labraut. I forgot people who don't even know me, know me. I smiled and shook my head.
"Right" I laughed looking down. I cleared my throat feeling his presence more right now than ever for some reason. His knees were close to touching mine. I needed to stop thinking about it but I couldn't. I reached wrapping my arms around my knees to keep our from touching.
"Do you think you could talk to Nate? Tell him not to say saying? Even though he hates me" I asked quietly looking over at him. His face was focused on the road in front of us still. He pursed his lips. "Nate's not going to say anything" He said suddenly not looking at me. I just looked at him. He glanced over at me.
"How do you know?" I asked, trying not to be annoying, but the anxiety of it was eating me alive.  He looked over at me and smiled slightly. "Because I do" He said looking at me. I smiled and shook my head looking down.
Why is Chris so Chris? There's this confidence about him. I feel like he's never second guessed anything he's ever done in his entire life, and if he messes up, he looks like he meant to do it. I wish I could have half of his confidence. I second guess everything. I think almost every decision I've ever made has had consequences.
"How do you know your friend isn't going to say anything?" He said looking at me. I furrowed my eyebrows and looked up at him. "Sydney?" I asked looking at him. He nodded. I shook my head. "Because I just-" I stopped looking at him. He smiled and raised his eyebrows. "Do" I finished understand why now Nate wouldn't say anything either. They are our best friends. They wouldn't put the other in jeopardy.
"Right" I laughed looking at him. He smiled and shook his head. "Nate doesn't hate you" He said looking over at me. I looked over at him and raised my eyebrows. He smiled. "Okay maybe he doesn't necessarily like you, but he doesn't hate you" He said smiling. I rolled my eyes.
"Why?" I asked him. He pursed his lips. "For the same reason I didn't either about 20 minutes ago" He said looking at me. I nodded. "But I can't promise that he's going to start liking you after he knows the reasoning behind why you did what you did" He breathed. I sighed. "I can't win" I said smiling shaking my head. He rolled his eyes.
I lifted up the thing in my hand taking another longer hit. I think this thing is working. My hearts not beating anymore. I'm...almost calm. "Okay, Okay, let's not get you too high for your first time" Chris said taking it out of my hand and setting it down. I rolled my eyes as I blew out the smoke.
"I'm starting to think you're a bad influence on me and I've only know you a couple days" I said shaking my head at him. He nodded. "Oh I definitely am, you're on the wrong side of town princess" He said looking down at me. God, I wish he would stop calling me that in the wrong moments. I can't contain my face after he does. My face fails me and I turn red, shaking my head. I just hope to God he doesn't notice.
Chris looked up towards the road. "Did you walk here?" He asked suddenly, taking the focus off my reaction, thank God. I nodded. He looked over at me with a confused look. I looked up at him and back down at my hands. Here comes the questions.
"I'm surprised you didn't have a personalize driver bring you" He said. I rolled my eyes. "Enough with the rich people shots please" I said looking over at him, smiling. He shrugged. "It's too easy" He smiled. I rolled my eyes shaking my head. I leaned my head on my arm, as I looked out onto the road.
"My parents bought me my dream car at sixteen" I said not looking at him. He didn't say anything. He just listened as I spoke for a second. "A baby blue Mercedes, with white leather interior with a killer sound system and red stitching" I sighed looking up towards the sky, then at him. He just looked forward. I loved that car so much.
"I remember waking up on my birthday and my parents coming in my room, telling me they had a surprise for me out in the driveway" I sighed remembering the day so clearly in my head. I shook my head. "I went out saw the car and I was so excited" I smiled. Chris looked over at me. I looked up at him, licking my lips.
"It was a stick shift" I said shaking my head. His eyebrows furrowed. I leaned back as I told the story. "I can't drive stick shift. My parents can't drive stick shift, none of their workers can drive stick shift" I explained. I scoffed remembering the memory that tells you everything you need to know about my bullshit parents. I looked up at Chris.
"Do you know how hard it was to find a baby blue Mercedes that was a stick shift?" I chuckled looking up at him. He just looked at me. "Took them 2 years to find" I said looking down at my hands. I shook my head.
"Wow" He breathed. I looked up at him. "Your life is so hard" He smiled at me. I shook my head looking away from him. Sometimes he didn't know when to give me some slack. I felt tears start to brim at my eyes. "You don't get it Chris. The story wasn't about the fucking car" I said looking down.
"My parents did it out of spite of me" I said sighing. "They have some internal hatred towards me, because I was suppose to be a boy. Someone to take over the family business and the last name. When I came out a girl they couldn't stand it. They never wanted anything to do with me. I have been nannied my whole life, even though my mom doesn't even work. They talk about it in front of me. How they wished so badly I was a boy." I said feeling tears start to pool in the corner of my eyes.
"When I told them I couldn't drive the car, even though they already knew that, they called me ungrateful. A spoiled brat who didn't deserve a car in the first place" I said swallowing the lump in my throat. Chris was silent next to me. I bit my lip.
"Instead of getting rid of the car. They parked it in the garage next to the door that I have to walk through everyday, just to taunt me. "There's your dream car collecting dust because we intentionally bought a car we knew you couldn't drive"" I said shaking my head. I still didn't look up at Chris, because I felt a tear start to run down my face, silently.
"I remember when I was six, wishing so badly I was a boy so that my parents would pay an ounce of attention to me" I said sighing. "I cut my hair short. I made my nanny of the month drive me to the mall so I could pick out a bunch of boy clothes. I wore them everyday for about a year" I laughed lightly reaching up and wiping the stray tear. I swallowed, trying to contain myself. I shook my head.
"It didn't work. They treated me the same" I shrugged. Silence fell between us. I sat up and sighed, wiping my eyes. I didn't mean to get so emotional in front of him. I was embarrassed that I just spilled out my entire childhood out to him. He sighed next to me. He looked over at me, but I didn't look at him.
"Y/n, I'm so sorry" He said quietly. I shook my head, waving him off. I looked at him, forcing a smile. "I understood once I was a teenager. I stopped trying to win them over. Just accepted the divide between us. I was never going to be a boy and they were never going to appreciate me for who I was, there wasn't a need to try to change anything about myself" I said shaking my head. He just looked at me sadly.
"I just wish I would have rebelled or something" I sighed. "Done something crazy to piss them off. Like shave my head or get a huge tattoo or something" I laughed. He smiled softly. I shook my head. "But by the time I wanted to do that, I met Max" I said. Chris still just looked at me.
"Which threw that idea out of the window" I said shaking my head. I looked over at Chris. "I don't think a guy like Max would date someone with a shaved head or a tattoo" I said smiling at him. He laughed and shook his head.
"What tattoo would you get?" He asked quietly. I pursed my lips thinking about it. I smiled and looked at him. "I would get a bunch of tiny stars on my shoulder" I said smiling. He smiled and tilted his head, not really understand. "I feel like when I look up at the stars, they are the only things that make sense. They never really change, just move around, but they are always the same. They are something bigger than my life, my problems. They bring me peace that something else is out there" I said looking at the small stars that were forming from the sunsetting.
Chris was quiet next to me. My eyes widened when I realized that I totally overshared. I looked at him before standing up and wiping my hands off on my jeans. He just looked up at me as I stood. "I'm sorry, I don't really know why I just told you all of that" I said shaking my head looking down at him. My face started to turn red. God, I'm so embarrassing. Why did I do that? He doesn't care. He stood up quickly looking at me.
"No, it's okay. I understand. I'm sorry" He said looking at me. I sighed as I stepped down on the step, tumbling over slightly and placing my hand on the railing to catch myself. He jumped forward, placing one hand on my waist to steady me. I just looked up at him. He smiled down at me.
"Are you okay?" He laughed whispering. I looked down at my feet, then back up at him. He smiled down at me. "Are you high?" He laughed. I closed my eyes, laughing. I leaned forward resting my head on his shoulder, looking down for a second giggling to myself. I looked back up at him and nodded. He shook his head smiling at me. I lifted my other arm and looked down at his hand that had not yet left my waist.
"Sorry" He quickly said lifting his hand off me. I looked at him arm. I grabbing his arm and looked at it, turning it around. Tattoos lined the back of his arm that I had never noticed before. "You have tattoos" I stated examining his arm. He had a rose and a dagger on the back of his arm and an arrow that pointed towards his elbow. He laughed lightly. "I do" He breathed.
"That's so cool" I breathed looking at them. I traced my nailed over one, causing him to twitch slightly. I lifted my hand and dropped his arm looking at him. "Sorry" I whispered. He looked at me with a surprised expression before clearing his throat. "No, you're okay" He said quietly. I just looked at him for a second. He looked down at me.
God his eyes. The way he was looking at me. His gaze. I can feel it throughout my entire body. I didn't know if it was because it was him or if it was because I was high. I swallowed, blinking up at him. "To be fair" He breathed. I just looked at him. "I think you're kind of cool as a girl" He said smiling at me. I smiled. He thought I was cool? No one has ever called me cool. Maybe stuck up, annoying, entitled, rich-bitch, cool is a new one.
"Thank you Chris" I smiled. He nodded. I turned around looking at the road, then back at Chris. "I should go" I said looking at him. He nodded slowly. I smiled, stepping off the steps. He walked down the steps with me. I looked over at him. He slid his hands in his pockets and looked at me.
"I'm not letting you walk home by yourself in the dark, high." He laughed. I laughed and nodded. He smiled as we started to walk down the street. He walked next to me. We were silent for a few minutes. Honestly my mind was racing, I was thinking about so many things. I looked over at him.
"You know what would be really good right now?" I asked as we walked. He looked over at me smirking, raising his eyebrows. My pulse quickened as he looked at me. My lips on yours. No, no, Y/n, No. I just blinked at him for a second. "What? Stop looking at me like that" He laughed looking at me. I swallowed losing my trail of thought. I can't look at the goddamn lip ring for an another second. The words in my mind were so much louder when I was high.
Chris is right there
Chris's lips are right there
You could stop walking right now and pin him up against that street light and feel what you felt the other night.
Feel him pressed against you again.
Hear his noises against your lips as you tugged on his hair.
Feel the way his tongue moved in your mouth.
All you have to do is stop walking.
My feet froze. I stopped walking. He stopped when he realized I stopped. He turned around and looked at me. I swallowed. My heart was beating out of my chest as he looked at me. "What would be good right now?" He asked smiling shaking his head at me. Fuck. I swallowed. No Y/n. Boyfriend. Max. Dating. I shook my head.
"A cigarette" I smiled. He threw his head back and walked up to me grabbing my wrist. "Keep walking Labraut" He said as he dragged me with him. I smiled as I walked with him. He let go of my wrist and I felt it through my entire body.
Why don't I feel that with Max when he touched me? It's because I'm high. Your emotions are just intensified. I have to think about something else. I have to start a conversation so that I don't grab his arm and pull him against me and kiss him like no one ever has before.
"So uh" I coughed. He looked over at me. "What are your parents like? Do you like them?" I asked looking at my feet as I walked. Just trying to make sure I didn't trip. Silence fell between us. The only sounds heard were the sound of our feet hitting the pavement as we walked.
I looked up at him after a few seconds when he didn't respond. He wasn't looking at me. He was just looking forward as if I never asked him a question in the first place. I looked back down, accepting that I probably wasn't going to get an answer.
That was okay. It was kind of personal question, maybe I shouldn't have asked it. If someone asked me that I probably wouldn't straight up answer either.
"I don't know. I haven't talked to them in a while" He finally said catching me off guard. I looked at him. He looked at me, with an unreadable expression. I nodded, looking forward. "Do you get along?" I asked before my mouth could catch up with my brain.
He obviously doesn't want to talk about it Y/n. I shook my head. "Sorry I-" I started to say but I cut myself off. Bite your damn tongue Y/n. You never know when to shut the hell up. My brain screamed at me.
"No" He said after a few seconds.
I just looked at my feet. I started to turn onto a road. I felt him grab my arm, pulling me back over to him. "That's not the way to your house" He said smiling down at me. I looked onto the road I attempted to turn onto. It wasn't, he was right. I smiled and shook my head.
"Right" I laughed. He smiled and shook my head. "Do I need to hold your hand?" He joked. Please. I just looked at him. He glanced down at me and I quickly averted my eyes to my shoes. He shook his head and hummed.
The tension in the air was thick. My stomach was hurting. I needed to get home, soon. I can't stand to be around him another second or I might drop to my knees. I felt his hand trail down my arm and then down to my hand, interlocking out fingers.
I stared down at our hands. I looked up at him, but he stared forward with a straight face. Is it hot outside? Is it the streetlights heating up my entire body right now? Chris dragged me down the road to my house, not dropping my hand.
We didn't speak the rest of the time that we walked. It wasn't long before we were walking up to my house. I finally cleared my throat looking up at my house.
"Follow me" I said pulling me with me towards the backyard. My backyard we beautiful. It had a garden. It was big with a pool. There was a tree that was right next to the balcony attached to my room. There were steps on the tree that I used to climb off my balcony when I was little. I used that more than the entrance to my own house, just to avoid my parents.
"Wow" Chris said looking at my backyard. I nodded and turned towards him. He let go of my hand and slid his into his pocket. "That's my room" I said pointing up towards the balcony. He looked up and nodded. He looked over to the tree with the planks nailed into them. He pointed at them and looked at me smiling.
"I hate walking past that damn car" I laughed looking down. He laughed with me. I looked up at my room then back down at him. God I didn't want to leave. I didn't want him to walk away knowing this might be the last time we interact. We live to completely different lives. We roll with different crowds on the opposite ends of the spectrum. There should be no reason that we ever came in contact again. We shouldn't, at least.
"Thank you for walking me home, I don't think I would have made it home without you" I laughed. He shook his head smiling. He smiled down at me. "I appreciate you opening up to me about your family" He whispered. I looked down and bit my lip. "I'm not going to tell anyone Y/n" He whispered. I looked up and smiled slightly. "Thank you Chris" I breathed. He nodded.
"It makes me think you're almost human" He smiled. I pushed him slightly. He laughed. I sighed. It was dark outside, I had to go inside soon. I looked around before looking back at him. "Friends?" I asked holding out my hand. There should be no reason to see him again Y/n. My mind yelled at me.
He licked his lips and took his lip ring into his mouth. You're kidding. I just looked at him, my hand still extended now slightly shaking. He looked down at me. I looked up at him, silently begging him to just shake my hand. Air, thick. Lungs, shrinking. Heart, beating.
God, I needed to breathe soon or I might suffocate.
I swallowed as he looked down at me, with that stupid look on his face. God this moonlight is horrible the way his shined on his face made me think it was illegal. The damn lip ring. He looked down at my hand before reaching up and grabbing it. He looked down at our hands, my hand now limp in his as I stared up at him. I hope he couldn't see how much his presence was effecting me.
"Why is your hand shaking Y/n?" He asked quietly but didn't ask it as a question, more of a statement as he looked down at me. A small smile on his face. This fucking boy. I swallowed. I stepped forward slightly, not that there was much room in between us anyway. He didn't move back, he just watched me.
In this moment I thought his face was sculpted by God himself. He raised his eyebrows. He dipped his head down slowly to mine. My heart was beating, faster and faster. I could feel his breath on my face, and I'm sure he could feel mine from the way I was breathing. He looked down at my lips. I started to flutter my eyes close when I felt him firmly shake my hand that was between us.
"Friends, Princess" He said dropping my hand and leaning back, stepping back from me. I snapped my eyes open and looked at him. My face turned red and let out a breath, nodding. "Friends" I breathed. He smiled and turned around starting to walk away.
"Get some sleep stoner" He said as he walked away. I smiled and shook my head. He turned around and smiled at me before walking out of my sight. I looked down and put my hands on my face, groaning. What was I doing?
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whore-era · 1 year
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affinity - part 2
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ellie williams x fem!reader
themes: angst, pining, best friends, unrequited love, love triangle
summary: after drunkenly confessing your love to your best friend of five years, you try to move on from her, but your best friend has other plans in mind.
a/n: i think this one is horrible, not my best writing, but the words were just flowin outtttt. this is also very dialogue heavy so my apologies if yall arent into that
word count: 4,204
2/3 | affinity - pt 1
taglist: @sawaagyapong @katiemars @friiida-xx @elorawrites @eringaitskill @helaenaswife @3lliesrifle @elliesconverses @koolguysyndrome @muthafuckingstargirl @whteflwcrs @j-money777 @jolieetoile @elliewilliamsmunch @frasersgf @rumirim @siesie2 @starhrtz @mcu-junkie @yookayyo @viswifetotallyreal @franreadss @catostrophiclesbian @parkersmyth @tweecunt @ilovebasketball3333 @bigmoodyjoody @silhxvette
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was i in heaven?
the question pops into your brain, as you truly thought you’d be dead in a ditch after the number of drinks you had last night. you made a mental note to thank dina later today for putting an end to your drunken endeavors from the night before. 
blinking your eyes open, your eyesight adjusting to your surroundings, you realize you are not in your own home at all. you’re at ellie’s, familiarizing yourself with her bedspread and decor. you sit up, wincing and holding your head, the pain throbbing in your skull at the sudden movement. 
sitting up properly, you scan your surroundings and your eyes stop at the sleeping figure on the couch. ellie was fast asleep on the cushions with a thin blanket covering her body, chest rising and falling at every gentle breath. 
in the past, you and ellie would have no issue sharing a bed and sleeping together, as you’ve both done it a thousand times before. you’d usually wake up first, and spend the morning staring at ellie sleeping, which you were thankful she never caught you doing or else she’d never let it go. you were always enticed by the way she looked while sleeping, she was out of her element and relaxed — different from her usual reckless personality.
now, ellie slept separately from you and you could only assume it was because of her new relationship with cat. closing your eyes and recounting the events from the day before, you shook off the tears forming in your eyes. god, so much for trying to forget about her. 
standing up quietly, careful not to wake her up, you pull on your shoes and make your way towards the door, opening it slowly and exiting from her shed before gently closing it again. you let out a sigh of relief, beginning the walk back to your own house. shading your eyes away from the rising sun to decrease the intensity of your pounding headache, you lay out your plans for the day.
okay, so i definitely have to shower ‘cause i reek of booze, and then i have to get ready for patrol in an hour, and then- you stop in your tracks, remembering you had patrol today, patrol with ellie. smacking a hand over your forehead, you make a note to stop by the tipsy bison to talk to maria about switching partners.
making it to your house within minutes, you rush to the bathroom and peel your clothes off to shower. the feeling of the warm water hitting your skin and relaxing your muscles was incomparable. it was a small slice of self-care you look forward to every day, as privileges like showers during an apocalypse was something hard to come by. 
cleansing the grime off your body, you step out of the shower and pull on some clothes for patrol — a long sleeve, jeans, a thick jacket, and a beanie. pulling on your boots and slinging on your backpack, you head out your door, remembering your keys this time, and make a beeline toward the bar. 
jackson early in the morning was something you’ve grown to love when heading out for patrol. the way the rising sun peeked over the edge of the trees, waking up the rest of the town, it always set a positive tone for your day. it was certainly one of the second-best things about this town, number one being a girl named ellie williams.
entering the bar, the bell tinkling as you opened the door, maria turns and smiles once she sees it’s you.
“just the girl i was looking forward to seeing,” maria greets, holding her broom in one hand and holding out one arm. you smile and give maria a side hug, “g’morning,” you mumble.
“so, how was last night?” the older woman queries, and you let out a groan of embarrassment. 
“don’t even remind me,” you beg, “i don’t wanna think about that at all, i’m still dealing with the consequences.” you rub your head, the throbbing still present. 
“well, it certainly was a sight for sore eyes,” maria chuckles, “anyways, don’t you have patrol in—” she pauses to check her wristwatch, “thirty minutes?” 
you nod, “that’s actually what i wanted to talk to you about.”
“uh, oh. this can’t be good.” 
“i just want to switch partners. please. put me with anyone. anyone but, ellie.”
maria sighed, “why? i mean, i’ll do it for you, but why?” 
“i just don’t think i can be around her anymore. ellie’s my best friend, well was, and i don’t wanna get in the way of anything,” you say, choking back tears, attempting to distract yourself by fiddling with a loose thread on the hem of your shirt. 
the older woman peered her eyes at you, thinking for a moment before speaking again. “okay, fine. you can be partnered up with jesse and ellie with dina.” 
you let out a breath of relief, “thank you, maria. i owe yo-“
“on one condition.”
you narrow your eyes at her, suspicious of what her condition entailed, “….okay.”
“try talking to ethan. i think you both would be good together.” 
“ethan? the stableboy?” 
maria nods, “yup. talked to him yesterday and he may or may not have a small crush on you. poor kid was blabbering on about how badass and brave you are for going on patrol and all that shit, and that you’re real pretty doing it all.”
you let out a laugh, cheeks flushing red, “okay, sure. i’ll— uh— give him a chance.” 
bidding maria goodbye and heading towards the front gates for patrol, you couldn’t help but think of what she said. ethan? the shy stableboy? crushing on you? you were flattered to say the least.
shaking your thoughts off, you make it to the stables and walk over to sunshine. ethan was already there, securing her saddles and brushing her brown coat. 
“good morning,” you greet, approaching him. he lifts his head up in surprise, a smile settling on his face once he realizes it's you. 
“oh hey, good morning,” he says in a sweet voice, “she’ll be ready in a few, just getting her all ready for you.” 
“no, no— uh— take your time,” you sputter out, “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to rush you or anything. just wanted to say hi.” 
what the hell was this? the 5th grade? why did you suddenly feel nervous talking to this guy? ethan smiles at you, a dimple poking out from his cheek. was that always there? 
“no worries,” he says coolly, “i’m glad you came over here. was hoping to see off the prettiest girl in jackson.”
your cheeks are warm and your face is red. is it getting hot in here? 
from the corner of your eye, you see jesse, giving you the perfect excuse to escape from ethan to calm down a bit. 
“i’ll be right back, i-i just need to talk to jesse.” you walk off quickly before he had the chance to see the tomato that was your face. 
approaching jesse, you poke him on the back and he quickly turns around, preparing to sucker-punch the person who dares sneak up on him from behind. 
“well, if it isn’t the little monster.” he gives you a cheeky smile, letting his fists fall down at his sides. 
you roll your eyes, “please, i don’t even wanna know how you came up with that nickname,” you breathe out, “anyways, we’re patrol partners now.”
“says who?”
“says me.”
jesse rolls his eyes as you let out a laugh, and joel and tommy gather the rest of the group to make some announcements and set the agenda for the day. from your peripheral, you see ellie appear a few feet away from you, adjusting her jacket and backpack. she probably overslept, evident from her disheveled clothes and her hurried state. 
the two brothers dismiss everyone to leave for patrol, and you see ethan walking towards you with sunshine. he hands you her leads, brushing his hands against yours. 
“see you after patrol?” he asks smiling at you, his dimple popping out again as he tilts his head to the side a bit. how cute.
“yeah, definitely,” you smile and he nods, putting his hands in his pockets and walking back toward the stables. when he disappears from your view, you see dina speaking to ellie, causing her to turn and look your way.
you quickly turn away, praying she didn’t catch you staring. as you and jesse leave for patrol, you couldn’t help the forming pit in your stomach, hoping that you made the right decision. 
that’s how the next three days went. you avoided talking to ellie, you talked to ethan at the stables, and you spent your time patrolling with jesse, which was mayhem in itself, but you tried to focus on the upside of it all.
however, ellie was growing annoyed by the second, fed up with you doing everything in your power to avoid her. 
“it’s like we weren’t best friends for years!” ellie vented out, the sound of the snow crunching beneath her boots as she strolled alongside dina, giving the horses a break.
“granted, she was in love with you for almost the entire duration of your friendship,” dina commented. 
ellie glared at her, “yea, but still— she could’ve talked to me or some shit. instead, she ignores me.” 
deep down inside, ellie felt guilty. blaming everything on herself for how things turned out. even though you never did admit your feelings directly, while sober, she should’ve seen the signs. ellie could only imagine how you felt— constantly having the person you loved for years telling you about their own romantic pursuits. it made sense why you took off the day she told you she was planning to ask cat to be her girlfriend, you were hurt. 
“it’s fine, ellie,” dina attempts to reassure, “besides, i’m sure she’ll be over it by the end of the week.”
“wait— what do you mean?” ellie stopped walking, hanging onto every word that dina was saying. 
“well- you know- um,” the darker-haired brunette stutters, “how would you feel seeing her with someone else?”
fire ignited in ellie’s veins, anger flowing through every vessel in her body. what the fuck? was this your solution? using some other person to get over your feelings for her? were you actually fucking serious?
“what are you saying, dina?” her fists begin to ball up, restraining the urge to punch a nearby tree trunk. 
dina’s eyes widened, realizing there was no hiding the secret now as ellie would’ve definitely found out sooner or later. ellie was perceptive and persistent, and would’ve bugged everybody in town if it meant finding out the truth about someone making plans to date you. 
“so, this is a funny story,” dina laughs nervously, “a little birdie told me that they set one of the stable boys up with her.” 
if you squinted your eyes and looked close enough, you could see the smoke coming out from ellie’s ears. she was infuriated. 
“who?”
“ethan.” 
“christ! fuckin’ ethan?” ellie yelled out in frustration, dina in the background grimacing from the sudden increase of volume in her tone.
“keep it down, will you? you’re gonna attract every clicker within a five-mile radius,” dina snapped, gaining another glare from those green eyes. 
“ugh,” ellie groaned, “this is a mess.”
“why does it even matter? you’re with cat, doesn’t this make everything easier actually?” dina asks, “the possibility of her being with someone else?”
ellie’s chest tightened. the very idea of you being with someone stirred something inside her guts. maybe it was the thought of them seeing your smile every day that made her sick to her stomach, or seeing you laugh til’ your belly hurt when you watched your favorite 90’s sitcom shows on VHS. it could also be the notion of someone holding you close when you watch the first edition of ‘nightmare on elm street’ because you get terrified every time you watch it that made her want to puke or — was it thinking about someone seeing the intimate parts of your body that did it instead?
“i-i don’t know, okay?” ellie says, “and, i’m not with cat.” she clarifies, hoisting herself back onto shimmer’s saddle. 
“huh? but didn’t you tell-” 
“i know what i said, but i’m not with cat.” ellie cuts dina off before she had a chance to interject again, “it’s time to head back. c’mon.” 
the journey back to jackson was painful for ellie, for she wanted nothing more than to see you and talk to you. every minute she was apart from you, she imagined ethan trying to win you over, swooning you with his corny jokes and suave pick-up lines. god, she was gonna be nauseous if she thought about that horse-boy one more time. 
making it back in due time, ellie and dina entered through the tall, wooden gates. ellie was quick on her feet and rushed off to find you, seeing that you were already back from patrol and that you were walking into the garden — your favorite path to cut through. 
ellie calls you out by your name, making you turn around but once you recognized who was calling for you, you cursed under your breath and walked faster. 
“hey!” ellie yells out, “i need to talk to you!” 
your feet pick up the pace, angering her even more. just as you were about to pass the bushels of purple hydrangeas, you felt a hand yank onto yours.
“stop runnin’ away from me! will you?” ellie breathes out, winded from having to chase after you. 
“sorry— i, uh—” you weren’t sure what to say, “i just had a long day.” 
ellie stares at you for a moment, “bullshit. why the hell do you keep fucking avoiding me?” 
you took your bottom lip between your teeth, a telltale sign of your anxiety forming, and if you didn’t look so damn gorgeous doing that surrounded by all the flowers, ellie swore she would’ve fallen to her knees and begged for your forgiveness right then and there. 
“i just— i made a decision that was necessary for our friendship.” 
you couldn’t look her in the eyes, knowing all the feelings you’ve managed to push to the back of your brain would come flooding back and the butterflies would flutter about in your belly again and your heart would pick up like you just finished laps around a football field.
“so, that’s it?” ellie’s voice is laced with bitterness, “we just forget about those five years?”
you stay silent, eyes focusing on the layer of snow covering the ground beneath your feet.
“you know, you can’t just fucking tell someone you’re in love with them and— and never speak to them again!” 
your ears perked up, “what are you talking about?” 
“that night,” ellie walks closer to you, “that night you were drunk, you told me you were in love with me.” 
fear settles into your body and you didn’t know what to say at that point. 
“that’s why i never went through with it. asking cat to be my girlfriend.”
you drag your eyes up, looking at her, and your brows draw together in confusion, “why not?” 
now it was ellie’s turn to be tongue-tied, “i-i don’t kno—wait, this isn’t about me!”
“what is this even about, els?” the way the nickname you had for her rolled off your tongue was enough to turn ellie williams into a puddle. it was unorthodox how ellie’s body reacted to every single thing you did, did this always happen or did she just now notice this?
“so, it’s true then? you’re in love with me?”
you hesitated before responding, unsure how she would react to your answer, “it doesn’t matter.”
“why not?”
“because my feelings don’t— they don’t matter,” you reply, irritation growing apparent in your tone, “what matters to me is that you’re alive and healthy and happy, even if it means you being with someone else.” 
ellie’s chest felt like it weighed 500 tons. she didn’t know what to do. she wanted to cry, she wanted to envelop you in her arms, she wanted to brush the hair from your face and hold your cheeks in her hands, she wanted to yell at you and tell you that your feelings were just as important and that your wellbeing mattered too.
but she stayed put, allowing her emotions to get the best of her. 
“and what about you? are you happy with ethan, huh? does he make you happy?” a devious smirk creeping on her face with a subtle mocking inflection in her words. 
“that’s not fair, ellie—” 
how she fucking hated it when you said her full name. to you, she was els. your els. 
“how?!” 
“becaus—” you were about to rip one into her, releasing your true, unearthed feelings that were bottled up over five years, but you felt your hand knock into someone’s nose as you had this horrid habit of talking with your hands when you were extremely emotional. 
“auggghh!” ethan groaned out in pain, holding his nose in agony. 
“oh my god! ethan!” you rush over to him, putting your hands on his face to get a look at the damage. streams of crimson flowed down his nostrils, dripping down to his shirt. 
“i’m so sorry!” you apologized, and the boy attempted to smile but cringed instead. 
ellie rolled her eyes, “no, she’s not.” she muttered, only loud enough for you to hear, inciting a glare from you.
“don’t worry about it. it’s fine,” ethan said, his voice sounding congested, “i should’ve made myself known before approaching you, but i came here because i wanted to ask you to dinner tonight— with me, at the diner.” 
ellie watched the smile grow on your face and the faded pink fan across your cheeks, and suddenly the world went silent, your lips mouthing the words ‘yes’. watching you wrap your arms around ethan and guiding him towards the infirmary, ellie couldn’t help the lump forming in the back of her throat — wishing it was her taking you out to dinner instead. but she had to stand back and watch you with someone else, a habit you knew all too well. 
ellie williams never considered herself a heavy drinker. she was more of a social drinker at most, only drinking one or two beers maximum when there were the usual parties and get-togethers in town. but when you force yourself to watch the girl you love laugh at some smelly horse-boy’s jokes, you needed all the alcohol you can get.
hearing your laugh resonate through the air, ellie took another swig of bourbon, the spicy liquor burning her throat. 
“what the fuck could he be saying that’s so funny? huh?” ellie spat, the glass banging on the table, provoking a flinch from jesse and dina. 
“well, he’s actually kind of—” dina’s cut off by the incandescent scowl from her penetrating green eyes, “yea, no, he’s terrible.”
ellie’s head couldn’t grasp what you saw in ethan. were you attracted to his looks? he’s a 6.5 at best, is 5’6, and he’s slim. he’s also nice and friendly. but surely, ellie was better. 
she knew she was more attractive, at 5’7 with a fit physique from all those hours training in combat and getting in her workout during patrol. she also was kind, funny, and intelligent. however, ellie knew she would be better for you than ethan. she knew you like the back of her hand, she could protect you far better than he could if a situation were to arise, and she could make you feel good, in more ways than one. 
which is why when she spotted you and ethan preparing to leave, she knew this was her opportunity to get you alone, and also to cock-block him so he doesn’t end up trying to make a move and kiss you — an idea that immediately made her see red.
“where you goin’ this time?” jesse asks, noticing ellie stand up, taking one last gulp of that liquid courage.
“to get my girl back.” 
jesse and dina looked at each other, mouthing a quiet ‘finally’ as ellie marched out the door, hoping she could catch up to you and horse-boy. 
spotting you and ethan strolling down the trail, she catches sight of ethan’s hand trailing up to the small of your back. 
do not fucking touch her.
ellie calls out your name, causing you and ethan to turn around and stop in their tracks. slowly jogging towards you, “hey, can i talk to you?” she breathes out, winded from her slow run, “alone.”
“um, sure.”
ellie glares at ethan, and as ethan prepares to but in, insisting he can stay nearby, your hand gently touches his arm, “i’ll see you tomorrow bright and early before i leave for patrol. okay?” 
ethan reluctantly nods, “okay,” and he leans in to peck your cheek, “goodnight.” he gives ellie one last look, throwing a smirk her way before he leaves the two of you alone.
god, ellie never wanted to beat someone’s ass so badly.
her anger quickly falters once she glances at you again, looking beautiful as ever in your beanie and scarf with your cheeks all red and rosy from the chilly air. 
you clear your throat, snapping her out of her thoughts. “here, i’ll— uh— walk you home.” 
as you both begin your slow stroll, the tension is awkward and silent. you both didn’t know what to say. after a couple minutes of walking in this god-awful silence, ellie speaks up first, “so. how’s it going with ethan?”
“ellie, please. if you’re trying to be sarcastic—”
“no, no, i’m not,” ellie scratches the back of her neck, “i’m seriously asking. not trying to be a smartass or start an argument or anything.” 
you let out a heavy sigh, “he’s nice…and he’s friendly.” you weren’t sure what else to say about him. you didn’t know him that well yet and you didn’t want to admit to her that you didn’t think he was all that cute anyways, despite the dimple.
“yeah? you like him?” 
silence filled the air. you wanted to be careful with what you were going to say next, but ellie had a way to make you feel comfortable enough to open up about things you didn’t want to talk about. it was easy to talk to her because you knew she was actually listening. 
“it’s not that easy to get over you, you know?” you murmur quietly, but you could tell ellie picked up on what you said. “i feel guilty for— i guess using him as a rebound, to get over what i felt for you.”
“what did you feel for me?” 
you scoff, “seriously, els? you’re gonna make me say it?” ellie couldn’t help but smile at the way her nickname sounded leaving your lips. “i had a lot of feelings for you. i mean— we were best friends and you were on my mind all the time. you made my head hurt when i thought about you too much and when i was around you i got those cheesy butterflies in my stomach that people in the movies talk about.” you couldn’t help the small smile that mindlessly crept on your lips when you talked about this, and ellie couldn’t help but feel dumb for not realizing how she felt sooner. 
“why didn’t you ever say anything?” 
you shrugged, “i didn’t want to jeopardize our friendship and lose you. our friendship meant the world to me,” you looked down, fiddling with your shirt again as anxiety built up inside you, “and besides, it seemed like you never saw me anything more than a friend. i was never gonna be that girl. it was always someone else.” 
ellie’s thoughts were running rampant, wanting to say all these things to you and tell you that you were wrong and that you are the girl for her. she wanted to beg on her knees and say she was sorry that she didn’t realize how she felt sooner, and that she was only using other girls to compensate for the fact that she couldn’t have you. but nothing came out. 
approaching the front door, you take your key out from your jean pocket. “well, goodnight, els. i’ll see you tomorrow?”
once more, everything in the world went quiet and all ellie saw was you. you were standing in front of her, so clearly. the small details of your face illuminated by the soft glow of the porch light made you look like an angel sent from above. ellie knew she didn’t deserve you, after everything you’ve been through, after all the hurt she caused for you; but she was dumb if she thought she going to let you go so easily. ellie had to fight for you and she didn’t give a fuck who was in her way.
in one, swift move, ellie wrapped her arms around your waist, pulling you in to press her lips against yours.
affinity - part 3 here
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famemonsterrr · 10 months
Text
Astrology observations part 5. 🪽
- Aquarius placements make someone soo smart ass and witty. Especially mercury 🤌🏻
- Gemini and Sagittarius are the type of people who will be killed by curiosity.
- 11th house placements make someone really popular and well known even if they don’t hang out with everyone. Same goes with the 3rd house placements maybe because of your siblings
- Pisces sun with Capricorn Venus is the most random and sad placement in a natal chart.
- Gemini sun with cancer placements are softies and more sensitive than all gemini placements
Men with all gemini in the personal planets is a red flag. Immature and easily influenced
- people with 4th house Venus will want their home to be comfortable and keep memories from their family house. You will see a lot of childhood pics on the walls or maybe a lot of photo albums.
- i love how passive aggressive a cancer can be. Like they are soooo unserious in serious situations. They will piss you off.
- it might be unpopular but the sister sign is a big fat lie. I have seen couples and friends with the sister signs not lasting long. For example every friendship I have a Virgo was good of 1 year and then became toxic.
- Pisces with 8th house placements or Scorpio placements is the person that will have temporary obsessions. Maybe they will find a song and play it for months and then will find a new song and then again. Maybe it would be a crush,maybe a movie character.
- Gemini and Sagittarius placements love cultures and they know a lot of things about them.(My mom is Gemini sun with Sagittarius moon and when I was young she showed me a lot of cultures. One random day she mention how much interesting Bollywood is and bought some dvds and we watched them together. Also had a lot of Arabic cds and we love to listen together and thanks to her my love for cultures became huge)
- i love LEO a lot but having it in your moon is pain in the ass. DRAMA QUEEN but I applause you for being open and expressive with what u feeling. Vulnerable queen💅🏻 but high maintenance moon. Constant admiration and attention.
- Pisces moon/rising people have dead inside eyes as for the other placements I can’t see it. (I’m Pisces sun and Venus and I don’t have this type of eyes)
- air moons scare me. You don’t know how they feel and what they feel. They are just there breathing and existing and inside their head their tiny version maybe burning the whole place💀 (SpongeBob brain scene if u know u know what I’m saying)
- I kinda feel bad for all my Scorpio moon people. Are you okay? ☹️
- Aquarius and Pisces will say things to get a reaction out of everyone. I have seen myself doing that just because I want to annoy them. I don’t believe half of the things I’m saying but I will do it to get a reaction for fun. Also 7th house placements do that.
- earth suns with Sagittarius placements make them super fun and cool. (My bestie is Capricorn with Sagittarius moon and she is so fun and witty)
- have you seen a Pisces sticking into anything? No me neither these bitches changing everything when they getting bored. It’s a mutable thingy ✨
- libra mercury is the devils advocate. ALWAYS
- never date someone who has the same mars sign as ur moon. Unless u want PAIN💅🏻
- always date someone who has the same Venus as ur sun. They will see you as their ideal type vice versa.
- Virgo women love cleaning and organising and Capricorn men love cleaning and organising. Match in heaven? 😏
- just to know the biggest liars are libra and Leo not Gemini.
- Pisces aren’t competitive at all they even let you win. They just don’t care (that’s me unless I’m playing uno) also really unpopular but Aries aren’t that competitive.
- Aquarius love internet friendships because they can have their space and not meet all the time with people.
- Taurus are more obsessive than a Scorpio. (I had a dude who said to me that he was stalking his ex for 3 years straight. It’s the dedication for me💀)
Speaking of these two. THEY ALWAYS BELONG TOGETHER. both insane and obsessed over each other in relationship. Maybe not the best of friends but everything is possible
- I haven’t see Gemini and Pisces be able to concentrate for more than 10 min.
- this is a personal thing to say but as a Pisces I tend to connect people with colours,smells ect. (One of my besties is white and always imagine her as cotton candy.) also I tend to bring in any conversation my closest people. I just love to mention them anywhere I can. If any Pisces reads this please tell I ain’t the one.
- libra sun with Virgo placements is a person with perfectionism and anxiety.
- fixed dominated individuals are like Patrick’s house. Like big rocks 💀
- cardinal dominated individuals need to learn manange their hidden anger issues
- mutable dominated individuals need to learn to end things they started 😒
Thats all 🪽
Okay guys this one was loooong. Sometimes I have a lot of ideas in my head and I get stimulated so thank u for making it till the end. Appreciate it sooo much 🥰 stay healthy and hydrated 💅🏻
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dixons-sunshine · 1 month
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js read your shopping spree and dying for your haircut fics and omg
can u pretty please, with a bow on top, write another part to that series or like an au where they get separated at the fall of the world and a few season later (preferably that prison era of daryl he was so fawking sexy there like omg) they found each other again and i want some build up to their reunion yk like someone else finds r and brings them in and some ppl kinda chatting abt the new girl or wtv and dars not rlly gaf cuz he kinda getting tired of trying to find r (realistically i don’t think he’d give up easily but let’s js pretend yk) but then they see each other and they’re like omfg the love of my life’s here and safe and like i need that glenn and maggie type reunion but like tenfold bc r and dar alr loved and knew each other before the fall yk and like yeah😣
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idky but i’m a sucker for “r and daryl had a relationship beforehand, got separated, and reunited” trope (?) fic, blurb shit and you’d literally be godsent if u wrote this oml
I Found You | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
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Summary: When the dead started to rise and the world went to hell, Daryl got seperated from you, the love of his life. After over a year of searching for you and finding no evidence of your survival, Daryl was beginning to give up and count his losses. One day, Carol stumbled upon a wounded woman while out on a run with Glenn, and the two of them decide to accept you into the prison. Little did they know, that would end up being one of the best decisions they could've ever made.
Genre: Angst to fluff.
Era: Prison, pre season 4, post season 3.
Warnings: Swearing, blood, death, mentions of attempted sexual assault (not descriptive)
Word count: 4.3k
A/n: Thank you so much for the request! I've decided to write the au since there's already a part three for the SSHD (Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams) universe in the works, but this request was way too good to not write. I hope you like it! And I absolutely agree with you. There's something about prison era Daryl that just hits different. He was on another level completely.
As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests.
(Just thought I'd say that both third- and second person is used. I referred to the reader in third  person when Glenn and Carol first met her, but it soon shifts to second person when she introduced herself. Just thought I'd let y'all know the shift is intentional.)
“Okay, so I can't guess what you did before all of this correctly, but I bet there is something that I will be right about.”
Daryl looked at Zach skeptically as they trudged through the abandoned store, looking for supplies to bring back to the prison. “Yeah? Wha's tha'?”
“You're brooding, quiet, you like to keep to yourself,” Zach started, leaning nonchalantly against one of the shelves while he watched the archer place multiple different packs and boxes into his bag. “The way you act most of the time would suggest you've never been in a relationship before, but there are clear signs that you were with someone before all of this.”
Daryl stiffened for a moment, his hand lingering above a pack, before regaining his composure and continuing his task. “Wha' signs?”
“Well, for one, you know exactly what kind of tampons and pads to get for the ladies at the prison. I would've just dumped everything in and have them sort through it, but you are only taking specific brands,” Zach pointed out, motioning to the box of tampons Daryl had just put back onto the shelf.
When Daryl didn't reply, Zach took that as his cue to continue. “And while we're on the topic of periods, you seem to know exactly what to get the girls for the pain and what to do to curve their bad tempers. What guy would know that if he didn't have a girlfriend before all of this? And to top it all off, and this is totally unrelated to everything I just said, I've seen that locket necklace you keep in your pocket. It's pretty worn out and faded, but you can definitely tell it's something from this generation, so it can't be something that was passed down from a relative, so that brings me to my conclusion. You, Daryl Dixon, had a girl before all of this.”
Daryl sighed, shutting his eyes tightly as he willed the onslaught of memories away. Memories that were too painful to think of, memories that did nothing but remind the archer of his failure. His failure at finding you, the love of his life, after the dead started walking. A failure he had to live with for as long as he remained alive.
Daryl opened his eyes and turned abruptly, leaving the young man behind him as he stalked towards the exit, his bag slung over his shoulder. Zach hurriedly caught up to him, struggling to keep at a steady pace beside him as Daryl strode quickly, wanting to put some distance between him and Zach.
“Woah, man! Slow down!” Zach complained, jogging to keep up with him. “Was it because I brought up the girl thing? I didn't realise it was a touchy subject.”
“It ain't none of yer damn business,” Daryl grumbled under his breath, stalking over to the truck him and Zach were using that day.
“Daryl! Come on, man. It's not that deep.”
Daryl gritted his teeth as he opened up the driver's side door of the truck, throwing his bag into the back before climbing inside. He started up the truck and revved the engine, a warning sign to Zach that he was about to leave, with or without him.
Zach hurriedly scurried into the passenger seat, barely having time to close the door before Daryl started speeding off. He gripped the edge of his seat, sending Daryl an exasperated look.
“Daryl, what the hell? Calm down!” he exclaimed, unnerved by the archer's sudden burst of fury. He'd seen Daryl angry before, but it was never directed towards him. It was downright scary.
“'M calm,” Daryl replied through gritted teeth, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.
“That's what you call calm?!” Zach exclaimed, motioning out towards the road. “You're driving like a maniac! Slow down!”
Daryl simply ignored the man, keeping his eyes trained on the road. Memories of you unwillingly flooded his mind. Memories of your smile, your laugh and your beautiful eyes. Memories of the calm mornings you'd spend with the archer in your shared sad excuse for an apartment where the hot water was a joke. Memories where you'd both stand under the cold water of the shower, Daryl embracing you from behind in an attempt to make the cold water bearable for you. Memories of your loving touch on his skin, your fingers lightly tracing over the scars on his back as you whispered reassuring things into his ear, assuring him that his father's abuse had nothing to do with him, that it wasn't his fault that any of that happened to him.
The more Daryl's mind wandered, the more he remembered some of the bad memories. All those arguments you had with him over some of his escapades with Merle, telling him that it would only get him into trouble, flooded his mind. One of those arguments ended up being the reason he got seperated from you in the first place.
Merle had wanted to go do some drug deal and had barged into your apartment, practically dragging Daryl from your bed. You had begged him not to go, arguing with him that it was a bad idea and that something would go wrong this time. He remembered being so angry at you for insisting during that argument that Merle wasn't good for him, that he needed to cut back on seeing him or set some boundaries with him. He had stormed out of the apartment without so much as a goodbye, and now he regretted it more than he's regretted anything before in his life.
Daryl blamed himself daily for not having listened to you that day. If he had, he never would've been seperated from you and you would've been safe by his side. He longed to have you by his side again, to tell you that he was sorry and that he loved you. However, even after all this time of searching, going out for extended periods of time to look for signs of you, it was to no avail. You were gone, and it was all his fault.
“Daryl? Are... you okay?”
Daryl snapped back to reality at the sound of Zach's concerned voice. He felt a droplet of water roll down his cheek and he hurriedly wiped it away, realising that he was crying. He hadn't even realised that tears had started to well up in his eyes, so immersed was he in his own thoughts.
“'M fine,” Daryl insisted, wiping his eyes hurriedly as he willed the tears away.
Zach furrowed his eyebrows, before realisation dawned on him. “You did have a girl before all of this. You lost her, didn't you?” he asked sympathetically.
Daryl hesitantly nodded, swallowing in an attempt to get rid of the lump in his throat. “I didn't lose her,” he began, bringing the truck to a halt in front of the prison gates as he waited for someone to open them.
“I don't know if she's even dead at all. She's just... Gone.”
“What are we looking for, exactly?” Glenn asked Carol as they scanned over the shelving of an abandoned pharmacy, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
Carol sighed as she looked upon yet another empty shelf, its medical contents a thing of the past. “Anything medical. With all the new people we've been taking in, the supplies we have aren't going to be enough.”
“Okay,” Glenn drawled hesitantly. “But it doesn't look like there's anything worth scavenging here.”
“Let's just do a once over before we check the back. If there's nothing, we head on back. It's getting late,” Carol instructed. Glenn nodded, and the two of them dispersed to sweep through the small store once more.
“So,” Glenn started. “Is it just me, or has Daryl been more grumpy than usual?”
Carol hummed in agreement. “He has. He gets angry at the smallest of things lately.”
“Do you know why?”
“No,” Carol said, shaking her head. “I've asked him, but he won't say anything. Just tells me to mind my own business. It's really odd. He's more like he was back at the quarry. More closed off and snappy and I don't know why.”
“It's ever since he came back from that run with Zach a week ago,” Glenn replied, meeting up with the Carol again to go into the back room. “I've asked Zach if he knows why, but he refused to say anything. Says it's not his place to say.”
Carol frowned, opening the door that lead into the back room. “That's odd. So that means something—”
“Stay right there. Don't move another inch or I swear to god I'll shoot.”
Both Carol and Glenn froze in their tracks. They looked up and locked eyes with a woman, who's eyes were fiery as they darted between them.
“Names. Now. And weapons on the ground.”
“Okay, alright,” Carol responded, trying to diffuse the situation. She slowly lowered her gun and knife to the ground, urging Glenn to do the same. “I'm Carol, and this is Glenn. Now before we answer anymore questions, what's your name?”
The woman hesitated for a moment. “Y/n. What are you doing here?”
“We were looking for some supplies,” Carol spoke truthfully, eyeing the gun aimed at her carefully. “We're running low on medical things.”
After a couple of long, tense moments, with you scanning them from head to toe, you nodded to yourself after spotting something. Deciding to trust them for now, you slowly lowered the gun. However, you quietly hissed in pain, quickly clutching your side as you stumbled to regain your balance. After you steadied yourself, you limped over to your bag and grabbed a few things before handing them over to Carol and Glenn.
“Here. Hope these help. The place was ransacked when I got here. Wasn't a lot left to clear out.”
“Thank you, but we need more than this. This isn't going to last us long,” Carol responded, placing the items into her bag.
“No offence, lady, but I think I need the supplies more than you do at the moment. And I gave you more than half already. I can't spare more,” you said, clutching your side tightly.
“What happened?” Glenn asked, pointing to the your side, unable to stop his curiosity from seeping through.
“Flesh eaters,” you replied nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders. “I was fighting a bunch of them when one lunged at me from the side. It toppled me through a broken window, and a shard sliced me.”
“Don't you have a group? Couldn't they help you?” Glenn questioned.
“Nope. I've been on my own since this whole thing started. I guess I should probably find a group, though. Things like this wouldn't happen if I had backup.”
You gingerly lifted your shirt, and both Carol and Glenn grimaced at the painful sight. The wound was deep and oozing blood. It would definitely need stitches, as well as someone to remove the remaining fragments of glass that still painfully stuck out of the wound. It was terrible. You wouldn't be able to get it all out without a professional.
Suddenly, an idea struck Carol. “You gave us some of the supplies you scavenged without even knowing us. Why?”
“Well, you didn't try to kill me, even after I held you at gunpoint. And by the looks of it, you guys have a group and are set up somewhere. Figured I should do the honourable thing and offer up some medical things if there's kids involved.”
“How do you know there's kids?” Glenn asked, confused.
“I can see the toys in your bag,” you pointed out, motioning to the toy truck that stuck out of the top of his bag. “Figured that adults wouldn't be playing with toy trucks while the world was ending.”
“Still, why would you? You don't owe us anything,” Carol questioned, though her mind was already set on one thing.
“Some might call me naive, but I hope that by doing some good in this fucked up world, karma will decide to do something good for me. That probably makes me stupid as shit, huh?” you replied, laughing before wincing at the pain that shot through your side at the small action.
Carol smiled at you. “We have a group set up not too far from here, at the prison. You can join if you want, but you have to answer three questions first.”
You raised your eyebrows at her. “Three questions? That's it?”
“Yeah.”
You shrugged your shoulders. “Alright, shoot.”
“How many walkers have you killed?” Carol began, watching you closely.
“A lot. Too many to keep track of at this point.”
“How many people have you killed?”
You hesitated for a moment, guilt creeping up on you. “Three.”
“Why?”
“Two of them were bit. They asked me to kill them. The other one... That bastard tried to rape me. I wouldn't let him.”
“I'm sorry,” Glenn said sympathetically.
“It's fine. I'm fine,” you waved him off, before turning your attention back to Carol. “How'd I do? Satisfactory enough?”
Carol nodded. “For me, yes. You'll still need to meet the leader and have him evaluate you, but I think you'll be alright. You'll fit in just fine.”
“Hopefully,” you laughed nervously, instantly paying the price for it with a sharp pain shooting up your side, making you visibly wince.
“Come on, let's get going. We have a doctor who can get that checked out for you,” Glenn prompted. He walked over to you and grabbed your bag, stopping your protest instantly. “It's fine, I've got it. One extra bag won't kill me.”
Together, all of you made your way out of the pharmacy and over to their car. You got settled in the back while Carol and Glenn got into the front, and before long you were setting off to the prison. Your eyes were beginning to droop, but Glenn seemed eager to get to know the new recruit better.
“What were you doing out there on your own anyway?”
“I was looking for my boyfriend. I was hoping that he might still be alive.”
“No luck?” he asked.
“No,” you shook your head, pursing your lips. “I'm beginning to think I might never find him, if he's even still alive.”
“Never say never,” Glenn encouraged you. “You'll find him someday, I know it.”
“I really hope so.”
“Have you seen that new chick Glenn and Carol brought back? She's a real looker.”
“I know, right? You think she's into blondes?”
“Even if she was, I doubt she'd go for your scrawny ass.”
“Easy, boys. She might not even be into guys. I could have a shot with her for all you know.”
Daryl groaned inwardly as he entered the cellblock. The new girl that Glenn and Carol brought in the day before was seemingly the hottest topic of discussion amongst everyone and he couldn't escape it, no matter where he tried to run to. Nobody, apart from Glenn, Carol, Rick and Hershel have officially met her, yet everybody had seemingly already formed an opinion about her. Although there were a lot of different opinions, everyone seemingly agreed on one thing; the new girl was hotter than hell.
Daryl was the only guy in the entire prison that hadn't seen her yet. He was out hunting when Carol and Glenn brought her back and he hasn't bothered to go out of his way to introduce himself to her ever since he got back. He'd meet her soon enough and he wasn't hoping to make friends with her. The more people he managed to keep at arm's length, the better.
“Yo, Daryl. What do you think about the new chick?” a guy called Mitchell asked him, snapping him from his thoughts.
Daryl shrugged. “Ain't met her yet,” he replied, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Okay, but have you seen her?” another guy called Ronnie asked. “I'm telling you, man, hotter than the sun on a summer day. I'm hoping she'll let me hit at least once.”
“How 'bout ya leave the poor girl alone?” Daryl snapped, turning to face the group that was walking with him. “She ain't even been here two days and y'all are already ogling her like she's some prize to be won. Have some more respect.”
“Jeez,” Mitchell whistled. “What's got your panties up in a bunch?”
“Nothin',” Daryl muttered angrily, turning around to walk further into the cellblock. “Jus' wanna get this fuckin' job done and all y'all can do is yap 'bout some girl ya dun' even know properly. I dun' give two flyin' shits 'bout who or wha' ya talk 'bout, but do it after the job's done. Y'all ain't free loadin' here. Do yer job, earn yer keep.”
“Sorry,” a girl called Ariana muttered, sending him an apologetic look. “What do you need us to do?”
“Take those planks over there and take em to the guard tower. Rick wants to fortify it and wants it done by the end of the week.”
“What are you gonna do?” Ronnie asked, crossing his arms as he sized Daryl up.
Daryl glared at him and squared his shoulders, looking down on his shorter, scrawny frame. “Hershel needs help with somethin'. I believe ya can understand tha' if the doctor needs somethin' done, it's considered top priority?”
Ronnie shrunk under Daryl's intense glare, nodding quickly. “Yeah, of course.”
“Great.”
With that, Daryl turned on his heel and set off to find Hershel. He didn't have to search far, however, because Hershel halted him before he could go outside.
“Daryl, over here,” the old man called after him, halting him in his tracks.
Daryl turned and walked over to Hershel, nodding at him respectfully. “Wha' ya need, Doc?”
“I'm sure you've heard of the girl Carol and Glenn brought back yesterday by now?” Hershel questioned, chuckling at the slight groan Daryl emitted.
“Who hasn't? Apparently she's really good lookin'. Her looks has been all people has to say 'bout her.”
Hershel nodded. “Unfortunately, that is true. Only Rick, Glenn, Carol and myself has had the pleasure of meeting her personally up until this point. She's a lovely woman. Had no problem that there wasn't anything to ease the pain when I had to stitch her side and she's more than willing to get up and start working to earn her keep. She won't be able to for at least another day or so since her side needs to heal up a bit first, but Carol and Glenn did good with bringing her back. She'll fit right in.”
“Good,” Daryl nodded. “She a good fighter?”
“From what I understand, she's been out on her own since the beginning. She's not dead yet, so I'd say she's alright,” Hershel replied, adjusting on his crutches.
“Alrigh', now enough 'bout her. Wha' did ya need me to do?”
Hershel gave him an encouraging pat on the back, confusing the archer. “You're going to be one of the very few people who gets to say they met the new girl for the next couple of days. I was hoping you could help her fix her bunk? One of the legs on the bunk broke and she's dead set on repairing it. She won't let me help because she keeps insisting I've done enough for her, so I told her I would send someone else to help. She'll be expecting you.”
Daryl pursed his lips but nodded, parting ways with the older man. He walked over to the cell that Hershel had pointed towards and stopped at the doorway, hesitating to make his presence known.
You had your back turned towards the door, hunched over as you inspected the leg of the bunk. You weren't aware of the archer that stood a few feet behind you, engrossed entirely in your own thoughts. That was, until he spoke up behind you.
“Hey. Hershel said ya needed help?”
You froze at the voice, willing the supposed hallucination away. You slowly rose to your feet and turned, locking eyes with the one person you've been searching for since the world went to hell—your boyfriend, Daryl Dixon.
The moment Daryl locked eyes with you, a whirlwind of emotions flooded his being. Relief, love, happiness, wonder, sadness, confusion and so much more that he couldn't decipher. Although his first instinct was to wrap you in his arms and never let go of you again, he hesitated, refusing to believe you were real. He took a step back, his eyes wide as he looked at you.
You stared back at him with equal amounts of disbelief. You took a hesitant step forward. “Daryl?” you whispered. The man in front of you looked slightly different; a little bit older and his hair was longer, but there was no mistaking it. The man in front of you was Daryl.
Daryl remained silent, his eyes locked on you as you continued to take agonizingly slow steps towards him. He watched as you stopped in front of him and hesitantly raised your hand, bringing it to rest on his cheek. Daryl instantly melted into your familiar soft touch, and that was all the confirmation he needed. Without another thought, he gently grabbed you and pulled you into his arms, tightly clinging to you as he pressed multiple kisses to the top of your head.
“Yer real,” he whispered, a laugh of amazement falling from his lips. “Yer real. Yer alive. Yer actually still alive.”
You laughed quietly against his chest as you held onto him tightly, never wanting to let go ever again. Your laughter soon turned into sobs, tears of relief and happiness falling from your eyes.
“I thought I'd never see you again,” you whispered through your tears, burying your face into his chest. “I thought you were dead, Dar.”
“'M here,” he whispered into your ear, a few tears of his own falling from his eyes. “'M alive. Yer alive. 'M never lettin' ya go ever again. 'M sorry I ever left tha' day in the first place.”
“It's okay. I'm sorry, too. I never should've asked you to cut Merle out of your life. He's your brother. It was unreasonable of me.”
“Nah, it wasn't,” he denied, placing another gentle kiss on the top of your head. “Ya were jus' lookin' out fer me. I never shoulda gotten mad at ya in the first place.”
“Let bygones be bygones?” you whispered against his chest.
Daryl chuckled before nodding. “Yeah, of course.”
The two of you held onto each other for a couple of moments longer until you pulled back. Daryl was about to voice his protest until you pressed your lips against his in an urgent kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. His arms settled on your waist, pulling you closer into him as he kissed you back. There was no lustful hunger behind the kiss—there was only love and longing, two broken parts finally reuniting and mending together as one.
Daryl pulled back and placed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. “I missed ya so much,” he whispered, willing the lump in his throat to go away.
“I missed you too. More than you even know,” you replied, cupping Daryl's cheek with one of your hands. “But I found you. I finally found you.”
Daryl leaned into your touch before turning his head to kiss the palm of your hand. However, he soon pulled away from you and strode over to your bag, slinging it over your shoulder.
“C'mon,” he said, taking your hand in his as he pulled you to walk beside him.
“Where are we going?” you questioned, falling into step beside the man you loved.
“There ain't no need fer ya to sleep in there. Yer gonna sleep with me in my cell,” Daryl said simply, pulling you along to his cell.
You giggled but said nothing, silently following him into his cell. When he placed your bags down on the floor, Daryl placed a soft kiss on your lips before stalking out of the cell.
“Where are you going?” you called after him, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.
“'M gonna find tha' prick who objectified ya and teach him a lesson. Yer hot as fuck, yes, that much I can accept people sayin', but Ronnie implied he wanted to sleep with ya outrigh'. He's really gonna regret sayin' tha' in a few moments. Dun' even try to talk me outta it.”
“Hey, Dar?” you called after him, halting him in his tracks. “I love you.”
Daryl smiled at you. “I definitely love ya more.”
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jvngkook97 · 2 years
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Sucker for Love
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synopsis; in which your best friend happens to be a vampire and the only time he’s able to be himself in the world is during Halloween night. OR you’ve been in love with your best friend for a long ass time and want him to bite you for a change and not a random person, which for some reason, he refuses to do. they say love hurts, and damn it all that you want it too.
pairing; vampire!jungkook x human!reader
genre; angst, fluff, humor, horror, smut, f2l, vampire au
warnings; cursing, jealousy, blood, violence (non explicit), death (non explicit), horror movie tropes, bad jokes, VAMPIRE KOO cause yes that’s a whole ass warning in itself CMON, a few familiar faces make an appearance, there’s no smut in this chapter but there will be in a future one so be sure to read the warnings carefully in order to avoid reading something you’re uncomfortable with pls and ty
rating; 21+ MINORS DNI
w/c; 7,101
a/n; y’all knew it was coming, it was only a matter of time. consider this both a ‘happy jungkook day’ and ‘Halloween’ story submission in one. SORRY IT’S LATE. decided to split this into two chapters cause I like the way this one left off. hopefully, that one will be out soon. like + reblog if you enjoyed. don’t be a silent reader! <3 feedback is always appreciated and helps keep this writer motivated.
networks; @ficscafe, @thebtswritersclub, @btshoneyhive, @kflixnet
01. 02. 03
“You are not going out dressed like that.”
“I—Excuse me? This is literally the only night I can go out like this!”
He tugs on the front of his white, nearly see-through, frilly long and loose blouse with a gusto. His face is morphed into one of disbelief as he stares into your dead panned expression.
“No. I see you in that outfit every single day. Are you not aware of the time difference?” Your arms are crossed, hip jutted out that makes the slit in the side of your costume widen even more. As much as he fights it, he can’t help but let his eyes flicker to the overly exposed skin as his tongue darts out for a split second to wet his lips and play nervously with his lip ring.
When his eyes meet yours he knows you’ve caught him in the act, if not for the elegant yet sultry way you walked towards his figure with a smirk adorning your red painted lips. The cape you were wearing framed you perfectly and only accentuated your beauty even more. As much as he hates to admit it, considering what your costume of choice pertains too. Them. His entire body cringes inwardly.
Your face rises to meet his, a feat that normally has you on your tip toes to complete the action, but not tonight. Tonight, your feet are clad in ruby red heels that give you the perfect amount of height and compliment your costume of choice for the evening — little red riding hood — knowing full well how much it would rile the centuries old vampire in front of you.
“And yet you have to choose a costume from a storybook that has to do with–,” his face scrunches, nose crinkling, and the corner of his lip rising into a small snarl that exposes one long, sharp, fang. “–wolves? I mean, really y/n?”
“What can I say? Hairy bodies are a turn on.”
A loud snort from him. Laughter bubbles in your throat. One coffin shaped, manicured hand lays over his chest. If he weren’t the undead, you have no doubt that it would be beating as erratically as yours currently is due to the close proximity, or maybe that’s just you and your ridiculous crush you’ve had on the vampire for a long time now.
Unbeknownst to you, the sound was like music to the vampire’s ears as he placed one massive tattooed covered hand over yours to squeeze it gently, it meant you had blood pumping through your veins, the vital organ still going strong.
You were still here.
You were still with him.
You were still alive.
Not like on the night where he first found your pale, nearly lifeless body all those years ago.
‿෴🦇෴‿
Then ~ Wednesday, October 31st, 2018 11:30PM
“Some friends they are.”
You crossed your arms tighter around your chest, attempting and failing to secure some semblance of body heat from the chilly, autumn night air. Leaves rustled in the biting wind, littering empty streets underneath the light of the full moon as you slowly and quite wobbly made your way back to your studio apartment. You regretted taking that extra shot before leaving the party, almost as much as you regretted entrusting your supposed friends with letting you know when they were leaving. Now here you were, all alone on Halloween night.
Your horror loving mind drifted to the many movies that started out on a night just like this, one’s where you previously scolded the character for making such a foolish life choice. Even going so far as saying that they deserved to be murdered brutally for their careless act. Look at you now, doing the same exact thing you once admonished with a mocking laugh at the tv screen right before the killer strikes and–
A twig snapping had your head whipping to the side, yet you saw nothing. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, however, as if there was someone or something out there watching you, tucked just out of sight behind the line of trees that led to the woods at the edge of town.
“Oh no.” You raised your voice to the dark woods around you with sarcasm. “I sure hope there aren’t any sexy vampires looking for prey out here or heaven forbid a captive!” Shaking your head at your own sense of humor, you snickered, opening your mouth to spew some more dark comedic gold that gets silenced by yet another twig snapping but this time it was closer.
Much closer.
Fuck.
Picking up your once slow pace, your heels clicking on the paved, stone walkway in a frenzied haste do you hear a more fear inducing sound from right behind you. A voice.
“When I let go, run for your life.”
It’s only when the disembodied voice breathlessly caresses the shell of your ear, do you notice how badly you’re shaking. Let alone the fact that there’s a a very pale, lanky, hand on your shoulder. True to their word, they let you go.
And you run for your fucking life.
Now you understood why those many characters would run straight into dark woods, rather than continue down the lit up street. In the woods, you could hide. On the streets, you were open and vulnerable. Wasn’t much of a tough decision when you’re the one being pursued.
Another thing you now understood, how it was so easy to–
The heel of your shoe embedded itself into the soft, wet soil and latched itself in between two branches sticking out of the ground with perfect precision and you tripped. Your arms flung themselves out haphazardly in a desperate attempt to catch your unprecedented fall. Hands, arms, legs and knees becoming scraped by various rocks and branches that poked out from beneath the ground.
Your hands immediately went to the strap of your heel and with shaky hands you barely managed to unbuckle the impromptu foot restraint, freeing yourself and pushing your exhausted body back up into a standing position. Coming to the conclusion you were better completely barefoot now, you freed your other foot from the speed hindering heel and chucked it angrily to the side. A heavy mist now clung to the woods, halting what little moonlight remained from passing through the already thick foliage of the cluster of trees around you.
Straining your eyes through the mist, you saw a shadow stood in the distance, completely still except for the wave of a hand. A whimper escaped your mouth, lips trembling and eyes watering. They had found you, but you won’t be giving up that easily.
Wiping your eyes in order to see clearly, you postured yourself in a position to run and bolted out of there, dodging branches and bushes along the way that only cut you up even more until you stumbled into an open area in the woods that housed an abandoned building.
A very creepy, dark, decrepit, seemingly haunted abandoned building.
Well, shit.
Checking the woods behind you, you see a blur making its way towards you and you realize that once again, you have no choice but to make the absolute worst choice possible.
You needed to go into the building.
Steeling your resolve into not dying, you thrust open the rusty door that was almost falling off its hinges at the years of decay and not being used. The screeching it emanated rivaled that of a nail on a chalkboard and your entire body cringed. Pushing your way into the darkness, you blindly felt for a wall to help maneuver your way through.
During your slow ascent into the building, does the door suddenly slam behind you, causing you to jump and let out a shrill shriek. Along with the deafening slam do you hear what sounds like a lock clicking into place.
What the actual fuck was going on here? Was this all actually real or a really elaborate prank set up by your shitty friends? Whatever it was, you weren’t having it anymore. Time to do what you do best when you’re scared – use your sense of humor.
“This is very funny.” You announce to the supposedly empty room around you. The door had locked itself, and you found yourself even moreso alone with little applicable skill to get yourself out of there. “I’m not the protagonist type, I’m more of the comedic best friend character. Now can someone please bust in here and save me?”
Silence. Nothing but eerie silence.
It was worth a shot.
Unlike the blur you saw in the woods, this time you saw more of a wispy white fog begin to appear on the opposite side of the room. It cast a faint glow, more than enough for you to utilize it and sprint down the hallway that made itself visible due to your ghostly accomplice.
Bare feet padded quickly along, and you tried your best not to look behind you just knowing that you wouldn’t like what you saw. So, instead, you plowed through the various hallways that now felt like an endless maze with how alike they appeared. The doors that lined the hallways were the same as well, solid except for a thinly shaped window that was planted in the middle within eyesight of what’s deemed ‘normal height’ for a human. You wondered what this place was used for, but thought best not to investigate and trouble yourself further with details.
The only thing you should be concerned about is getting out of this place alive.
The heavy fall of boots echoed across the halls that made you pause in your step to listen closer and decipher which direction it was coming from. Not having an inkling of the layout of this building, you realized trying to figure it out was futile and instead continued on. It wasn’t until you heard the footfalls sound in the hallway you just exited from did you begin searching for a door that was unlocked in order to hide.
Jiggling several handles, you found they were all locked. You just about gave up hope when you saw a door at the end of the hallway that was cracked open. Quietly running towards the door, the boots crept closer. Just as you slid your body through the crack of the door and shut it all but a sliver so you could peek through, did the mystery predator reveal themselves.
Your breath caught in your throat, eyes collecting pools of liquid that trailed down your face as you tried your damndest not to make a sound as they inched closer and closer to your hideout.
They were wearing all black clothing, the only pop of color coming from the hideous stark white mask that was littered with specks of something you couldn’t quite make out due to the distance, the mask that covered their face successfully hiding their true identity. As they came within a yard away from the door, did you come to the grim conclusion that this person had what looked to be dark, red splatters of an unknown substance all over their clothes and mask.
Something that was scarily akin to blood.
Closing your eyes, your hands covered your mouth in a fruitless attempt to stifle the whimpering that wanted to come out from the sheer terror that coursed through your veins. Every passing moment felt eternal. And you couldn’t tell if closing your eyes made it better or worse.
You didn’t know if hiding would be the ultimate factor in you getting out alive or not, but it was the only idea you had left. As you pushed yourself further into the corner of the room, your back slid down the wall in relief once the footsteps faded.
Taking a deep breath, your head fell on your knees. With a shaky exhale you let out a minuscule puff of laughter. You were tired, your body was tired. It wasn’t till you felt you had a moment of safety did your body wind down from its adrenaline rush and now all you felt was the crash that comes after it. You allowed this feeling for only a fleeting second, then hoisted your body up and out the door, but not before cautiously poking your head out to be sure the mystery figure was truly gone.
They were. For now.
You stepped out from your safe haven and attempted to make your way back down the hallway from whence you came, hoping you’ll get dumb luck down another corridor and find the exit. Your heart pounded this time, but not from fear. This time, it was pumping with liquid courage through your veins.
Despite your earlier declaration of being the secondary comedic relief, you decided with renewed vigor that you would be the final girl.
Oh, how wrong you were.
There was a sharp pain in the back of your head, your mouth opened in a silent scream that would never come as your body collapsed on the cold, tile floor and you were down for the count. Your body no longer having the energy to fight back, that liquid courage seemingly sucked up in a matter of seconds you just lay there – still. Your eyes struggled to stay open as you blinked them, trying to focus on the white mask that was within your line of sight as the figure knelt down and stroked your forehead, gently pushing the clump of hair that fell in your face away and tucking it behind your ear. The very same ear where you could feel a trickle of liquid slither down the side of your face and off your nose. The last thing you see being red before you closed your eyes for what you thought would be the last time.
Jungkook’s POV ~ The Same Night
He sniffed the air, smelling the faint metallic odor of ‘crimson crack’ as he liked to call it. Tilting his head back, he closed his eyes and honed in on it, letting it take over every one of his senses in order to conclude where the source is coming from. Opening his eyes, they flashed a deep red, before returning back to their usual brown state.
In a flash, he was gone.
When he reappeared, he was standing in front of an abandoned building. His head tilted in confusion, ears perking when they hear the tall tale sign of a human heartbeat. Faint, but there. And it seemed to be getting closer, even a hint louder in its desperate attempt to keep pumping blood, oxygen, life to its human shell.
Interesting.
His hand reached for the door handle, which he promptly brought back to his side and took a step back when he realized the handle was turning on its own and the door began to open. He clasped his hands together in front of his abdomen and waited for the grand reveal of his next meal.
With his centuries of life, he would’ve thought that he saw it all. Apparently, that wasn’t the case. This night, he would have another first.
Seeing you. Smelling you.
Your blood alone caused the saliva in his mouth to pool, the scent making him feel dizzy in a state of euphoria. Body vibrating with the need to get closer to you, to taste you. He nearly pounced, if not for the minor inconvenient detail of your limp body being carried over the shoulder by an all black clothed human male. The mask this male chose was displeasing to the eyes in a sense of it was so gaudy and fake.
The male stiffened upon seeing Jungkook, the hand that clenched the knife that he used to both knock you out and engrave his alias initials into the length of your neck gripped the handle, his knuckles becoming more pronounce as they strained against the leather material of black gloves he was wearing.
“Who the fuck are you?”
Jungkook could tell that the male had anger issues. His voice was devoid of emotion, cold. It made Jungkook chuckle with a deep laugh that had the masked assailant stepping forward in hopes of scaring Jungkook. It only spurred on the laughter more, and made the male even more angry.
“Shut the fuck up, you freak! You wanna die?”
“Do you?” The laughter ceased as if by a flip of a switch. The wind blew between the two males where only one couldn’t suppress the shiver that went down their spine. The masked male thoughtlessly threw your unconscious body onto the ground next to him, a loud ‘thump’ followed shortly after your weighted body hit the solid dirt of the woods. He then poised himself with the bloodied knife raised in front of him, ready to strike with the intent to kill.
Jungkook tsked sardonically.
“Give me the girl and I’ll let you go.”
He thought the deal was good. The masked man did not.
“Fuck you. She’s mine. Get your own, the night’s young.”
“True, it is. But I’m not. And I’m easily annoyed. So, I’ll give you one more chance, human. Give me the girl.”
The masked male blamed his obscured sight from the small holes that the mask granted him, the material only making it harder for him to see Jungkook clearly. Though, he swears he sees his eyes flash red, but it’s gone within the next blink of his eyes. His gut tells him to run, but his pride prevents him from doing so.
The masked male makes his move, and his knife impales into Jungkook’s chest — directly where his beating heart should’ve been. Except, it wasn’t.
“My turn.”
Jungkook grips the male by his arm and yanks his body until it’s pressed tightly against his, using his other arm to encase the squirming male and prevent him from escaping. The mask falls off to reveal a young face, barely hitting his mid 20s. The amount of fear that is on his face gives Jungkook a sick sense of satisfaction.
“What are you?”
The male whispers fearfully. Jungkook doesn’t answer, and instead grins widely. Both fangs twinkled in the faint moonlight as the male’s eyes widened in horror, only to close moments later as Jungkook sinks his fangs into the male’s neck and begins to drain him of every drop of blood in his body.
Y/N’s POV ~ Moment’s Later
When you come to, you find yourself laying on the dirty earth floor as your nails dig into the soil and it gets stuck underneath. Inhaling a breath – it’s crisp, cool, autumn air. You let out a broken whimper when you realize that you’re alive, but it hurts to move. Your head is at an awkward angle, but you can make out two blurry figures out of your peripheral. One looks limp, and the other looks as if they’re embracing the other in order to keep them standing.
In a way, you were right. Your eyes then dart to the fallen off mask that’s settled a few yards in front of you, and you wonder what exactly happened to your perpetrator for them to let you go. You don’t have time to dwell on it for too long, as the next thing you see is the back of your eyelids as you pass back out. It seems like your mind was awake, but your body still needed some recovering.
The next time you open your eyes you’re laying in a huge bed, in a huge room that looks like you’ve been transported into Dracula’s castle, but you were still in a modern home. The decor and looked ancient and worn, yet surprisingly still in good condition. As you sat up, your body no longer felt drained of energy, and in fact, you felt refreshed and reinvigorated.
Your bare feet hit the cool flooring as you stand up straight. A knock on the closed bedroom door has you flinching back to your previously scared state and you hold your breath as the door slowly opens.
In the threshold of the door stands a very attractive male, who looks like along with this castle, he’s from the world of Dracula. His skin is almost sickly pale, yet his eyes held a natural warmth to them. He just stands there, and doesn’t attempt to step inside once he notices your scared expression.
“I’m not going to hurt you.”
His voice is smooth and velvety. Despite not knowing this person and going through the ordeal you were just in, your gut tells you that you can trust them. So, either stupidly or —no, just stupidly — you do.
“I know.”
When he hears your voice for the first time, his stomach does flips. It was in that moment a kind of bond was formed, and you’ve been inseparable since.
‿෴🦇෴‿
Now ~ Monday, October 31st, 2022 7:50PM
His hand can’t help but trace the faint scarring of initials that still resides on your neck to this day. A constant reminder to him and you of the horrific, yet fateful, night you met.
Your eyes close reflexively upon contact and you let out a sigh of discontent, knowing where his mind just wandered to, as does yours.
“Koo, I’m still here. It’s okay.”
Your eyes open to meet his. There’s a pinch inbetween his brows that you just want to rub away with your finger, so you do. He chuckles, the vibration flowing through your own body in waves that has you giving him a warm smile.
“I was doing it again, wasn’t I?”
“You were.”
He clicks his tongue, shaking his head to rid of the intruding and unpleasant thoughts and regain focus on the mission for tonight – going out with you on Halloween night to a frat party you were invited to by a brainless jock that Jungkook already hates with a burning passion for catching your attention.
“Shall we go?”
Your eyes narrow into his and you pat his chest, before turning and walking away from him to reach into your bag and pull out an outfit you brought just for him. It wasn’t so much a costume as it was an outfit you just really wanted to see him in.
“Nice try, buddy. But I didn’t forget.” You make your way back over to him with the outfit held out in front of you. “Wear this. No objections.”
He groaned, but resigned to his fate and took the outfit from your outstretched hand. He waves his hand as a motion for you to turn around while he changes. You lift a lone brow at his sudden shyness.
“It’s not like I haven’t seen you nude before.”
He rolls his eyes, then narrows them at yours. You throw your hands up in defeat and make a show of slowly turning around until your back is to him. As you bring your hands back down, one subconsciously falls to the scarred initials on their own and just like Jungkook, some aspects of that night fog the forefront of your mind.
You let out a chortle that catches Jungkook’s attention, his eyes fall immediately to where your hand resides as he zips up the black pants you wanted him to wear, but he doesn’t say anything. He knows he doesn’t have too, you always tend to speak your mind.
“Remember when I thought for a second that you were actually going to hold me captive?”
He does. As does his body, even moreso as he flexes the muscles of his back to shrug on the crimson red bomber jacket that covers the plain, black shirt he’s wearing underneath. Tugging the cuffs of the sleeves down into a comfortable position.
“Yeah. I gave you the benefit of the doubt to just walk out the door, and as soon as I turn my back to you, you stab me.”
You throw your head back in laughter, and he can’t help the quirk of his lip that occurs at the sight and sound of it. There’s no blood pumping through his veins, no warmth to his skin, but still he felt a unique glow when it came to you that was within the depths of his soul. It was hard to describe, and he couldn’t say exactly how it was possible, but it happened. Only when it ever came to you. And for a moment, he felt a sliver of being human again.
“Can you blame me though?” He doesn’t. “Are you almost done?”
“Impatience will be the death of you.”
“I think knives will be the death of me, actually. Maybe some poison.”
He folds his arms across his chest.
“Funny.”
“I thought so.”
“You can turn around now.”
“I still don’t understand why you didn’t want me to wat–,” your words die in your throat as you turn around and take Jungkook in in all his glory. Jesus. You changed your mind. This outfit would be the death of you. Your thighs rub together without your knowing, it makes Jungkook’s nostrils flare for a second, and he stiffens, clearing his throat.
“That bad, huh?” He tries to break the tension that came out of nowhere as you continued to stare at him. It’s like your brain stopped computing he looked that good.
“Oh, shut up. Don’t pretend that you don’t know how sexy and amazing you are.”
The words flew out of your mouth unfiltered, unfaltering, and you weren’t even ashamed. It baffles him how a human could be so truthful. So unabashed.
“Let’s just go.” He’s still stiff as he brushes past you and you catch the whiff of the earthy and musky scent that is just naturally him, it only made the want for him that much more prominent and you trail behind him like a lost puppy.
‿෴🦇෴‿
Frat House ~ 8:24PM
Even though you two are early, the party is already in full swing. The music is loud, so damn loud, it makes Jungkook’s sensitivity to sound a hinderence in his opinion - but he does his best not to let it ruin the night. Before you even stepped inside, the porch was littered with bodies as a couple seemed to be making out not too far from the entrance of the house. Red solo cups, beer cans and bottles alike were thrown haphazardly in the bushes surrounding the porch.
How could humans be so careless? Jungkook thought with a grimace. Back in his day it was frowned upon, but now it was the new normal. How the times have changed.
His nose crinkled in disgust at the public display of affection that should be withheld for closed quarters, and you just walked by like it was second nature. The front door wasn’t even fully closed, so all you had to do was push it open to gain access. From what you heard, you thought it was going to be a ‘limited access’ party, apparently you heard wrong. It felt like the entirety of the school was present and upon the door shutting behind you two, the cluster of body heat was more than prominent, triggering your slight case of claustrophobia.
Jungkook could sense your distress, his open palm rested securely on your lower back as his thumb rubbed circles in hopes of easing your anxiety. He could feel you tense, then relax. Bending down so his head was next to yours he asked you a question.
“Want to head to the back?”
You nod your head in answer and he guides you both through the crowd. You do your best to smile and wave at those you know so as not to be rude, but in truth, you just wanted to get the hell out of there for now.
“Empty handed? Here!”
A random guy pops up next to you both as you almost make it to the back door from the kitchen, and shoved two red solo cups of an unknown liquid into your hands. He salutes with a dopey smile and saunters off. You presume he’s going to fill more cups for other random guests. He looked familiar now that you thought about it, and you think it has to do with his two different colored eyes, it always wowed you.
Before you know it, you’re both back outside in the night air and it’s easier to breathe. Jungkook swiftly grabs the cup from your hands and dumps it into a bush nearby. You give him a quizzical look as he dumps his as well.
When he focuses his attention back onto your puzzled one, does he explain his reasoning.
“Never drink from a cup that you didn’t pour yourself, you don’t know what could be in it.”
Your mouth forms an ‘O’ shape and you heart palpitates from the level of protectiveness he’s showing. It never fails to get your heart racing.
He smirks knowingly, and opens his mouth to make a flirtatious comment.
“I love how your heart races for–,”
He’s cut off by a letterman jacket and he wonders what the big deal with them are while the guy pulls you into a tight hug with a big grin.
“Y/N! You made it!” His enthusiasm seems genuine as he tightens his hold on you. Not seeming to care in the least bit that he has to bend over awkwardly to accommodate your obvious height difference. It causes a snarl to build within Jungkook’s chest that he fights to suppress so as not to bring unwanted attention to himself.
“Joonie! Thanks for the invite!” Your tone is light and airy, a soft puff a laughter escapes your lips at the death grip he has on you. You savor the hug, returning it in earnest before you mutually let each other go. His hands are on your shoulders as he takes in your costume of choice.
“Little red, hm?” His brow raises and he lets out a bellowing laugh that you can’t help but join in on. You forgot about the inside joke that was made back in your freshman year of college and he makes a playful jeer.
“Am I still the big bad wolf?” He waggles his eyebrows feigning being seductive, and you snort in embarrassment that causes the natural flush in your cheeks to make a show. It was a one time misjudgement when you decided to listen to the gossip of those around you, rather than form your own opinion. Everyone described Kim Namjoon as a heartless, hard headed, quick to temper and pessimistic jock. You would learn, in fact, he was very much the opposite and those who said otherwise just never had the courage to even try and befriend the tall, lovable, giant you now consider a good friend. Their loss.
Jungkook hates it. He hates all of it. What was this talk of being a wolf? He wasn’t one. He was normal. Jungkook would be able to tell otherwise. And why are you acting as if you completely erased his presence from your side like he wasn’t even there. Anger began to rise, and he closed his eyes in order to prevent the red from showing to the humans around him. He should’ve worn his contacts, but you encouraged him to just ‘be himself’ whatever that means.
Jealousy. A ridiculous human emotion that unfortunately can still occur with vampires.
He loathed it. Like he loathed this human boy.
He began to mimic the timing of breathing as a form of meditation, regaining his sanity and self back just in time for you to acknowledge him and introduce him to your male companion.
“Joon, I’d like you to meet my good friend Jungkook. Jungkook, this is Namjoon. He’s the host, and my science partner.”
Namjoon scoffs at your introduction of him.
“Just your science partner, huh? Is that all I am to you? A lab partner that makes sure you pass the class in order to graduate this year?”
You give a feigned moment of silence as if in thought, your finger resting on your bottom lip that slightly parts them in the process. Jungkook doesn’t miss the way Namjoon’s eyes flicker to them upon the innocent action, but you do. All you do is give an over exaggerated wink in reply. He places a hand over his heart and acts hurt.
Seems like this human boy has taken an interest in you. He wonders if you feel the same.
Again. He feels the jealousy build and stiffens, then relaxes though his fists stay clenched tightly behind him. He plasters a fake smile on and interrupts your little flirtatious banter.
“Pleasure.” His hand is outstretched, waiting.
Namjoon just sees it as a polite gesture and takes it with a soft, yet firm grip. He realizes that there’s even a slight height difference with the jock himself as he steps forward towards Jungkook, leaning into the handshake. It takes everything that Jungkook has not to crush every bone in his hand as he relays what is considered normal strength for a human during a handshake.
You watch the two with wary eyes, but inwardly sigh with relief when their hands part and nothing else happens. Maybe they could be friends after all, or so that’s what you hoped.
“Please, by all means. Feel free to take advantage of the beverages and food. Mi casa es su casa, and all that jazz!” Another female party goer slides into Namjoon’s side and places a hand on his chest. Jungkook is surprised when you greet the female with even more excitement. He assumed you would be upset, furious even.
“Natalie! I thought you said you weren’t going to be able to make it?” You gave the girl a mock glare, and she gave a twinkling laugh in return. Namjoon stared down at this ‘Natalie’ with love and adoration. Jungkook was confused.
“I was able to convince my family to postpone leaving until tomorrow so I could congratulate–,” Natalie pats his chest and looks up into Namjoon’s eyes with just as much love, if not more, before continuing. “this guy on his big scholarship!”
Namjoon’s face flushes from the admission. Your mouth drops open in bewilderment. You punch Namjoon hard in the shoulder and he winces.
“Geez! Ow!”
“You jerk! How could you not tell me?!”
“I was going to, tonight!”
You side-hug Namjoon and Natalie and make promises to catch up. Jungkook pretends not to hear when Natalie whispers in your ear about a ‘double date’ and instead acts like the sight of people gyrating against each other is more appealing. It’s not. But something does transcribe whilst he’s staring at the couples that actually know how to dance properly.
Nostalgia washes over Jungkook, like the gentle sway of a tide pulling his conscience to another time, another place. He felt the phantom stirrings of movement where his heart would’ve still been beating back then, the desire to grin and to dance, but could only place the grainiest of images to memory. He couldn’t quite remember what it was that brought him a feeling of such warmth and fondness, but he felt enchanted to stay within that feeling.
Natalie and Namjoon have long since departed, but Jungkook was still stuck in a time long passed. You cautiously place a hand on his cheek, caressing it while gently rubbing your thumb against his sharp jawbone.
“Jungkook? You still with me?”
The glaze in his eyes disperses upon your call of his name, and his eyes instantly lock with your concerned ones. He gives you a faint smile, sucking in a breath to release it and then answers you.
“I’m still here.”
This isn’t the first time this has happened. Jungkook getting lost in the past. He was never afraid to answer any questions you had for him back when he was human, or even when he was turned by a rogue vampire and left to learn the consequences and rewards of being a vampire and immortal all on his own. His life was hard, but it was still life. Something he didn’t treasure until he was no longer alive, and rather just living — existing.
He realizes that he never had a reason to feel alive, until now.
Until you.
He had tried to do what he could to keep you at arm’s length. Your smile was so disarming, you were so genuine, that he couldn’t help but get close to you. Even when knowing it was a bad idea. He didn’t want to fall in love with you. He kept ignoring the intruding bloom in his chest, telling himself that it would wither on its own.
It never did. It just grew.
It grew a forest of flowers within him, the colors so vibrant and the aroma so intoxicating that it was hard not to fall in love with you when it was you who consumed his entire being, his entire soul, or what was left of it.
And you didn’t even know.
‿෴🦇෴‿
You had been at the party for hours now. Talking, mingling, even dancing a little. Much to your amusement and Jungkook’s displeasure.
His hands rested politely on your waist, never once faltering into the danger zone. Your arms were wrapped loosely around his shoulders, hands dangling. A slow song was on, one you never listened to fully due to how slow it was, seeing as you usually only heard it when you were driving your car and as soon as it would come on you would change the station to a more upbeat option to keep you awake. But, you’ll admit, it was growing on you.
Much like the vampire in front of you has over the years of knowing him. His mannerisms, his personality, his way of talking, his way of dressing. You kept every minute detail locked away inside your head, and your unspoken feelings locked inside your heart. Though, as you both stared into each other’s eyes in a way that should’ve been saved for lover’s, you wonder briefly, albeit hopeless romantically – if he might, just might, feel the same way.
Your body is buzzing with all the alcohol you’ve consumed throughout the night, and as you sway to the song, do you realize how much it’s him who is actually holding you up discreetly and leading you. It’s only when he suddenly stops, does your wobbly figure collapse into his taught chest. Your ear lays against where his heart would be, yet you hear nothing. Another stark reminder of the difference between you two, as your heart raced at how close you two were.
He doesn’t say anything, standing still. When you look up from his chest, his gaze is no longer on you, but something in the distance behind you. Following his line of sight, your puzzled expression turns into one of forlorn.
It was another girl, dressed ironically as a female version of Dracula. You nearly scoffed at the coincidence, though you know it can’t be the costume that’s caught his attention, rather – it’s her blood.
“It’s that time of the night, hm?”
Your question lingers, his focus still caught. You can see the red tint begin to take hold, his grip on your waist tightening into a bruising one. Your heart jumps at the sudden sensation, and it’s only then that Jungkook regains his bearings and gives you a look of regret, his hands parting from your waist instantly as if being burned.
“I’m so sorry, y/n. I just need–,” his nostrils flare of their own accord, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. He closes his eyes and when they reopen you know for sure the night is over.
They’re blood red. He needs to feed, or risk losing control and slaughtering literally everyone here, including you. And he won’t have that, he refuses to let that happen. He’d sooner throw himself into the sunlight’s blazing rays and turn into nothing but dust than be the reason you die.
For a split second, you almost gain enough courage to tell him to just use you, but you know he’ll say no. He’s never directly stated that you couldn’t be an option, moreso does he just announce when it’s time he needs to leave you to feed. He swears he never kills those he chooses to feed on, having enough control over his emotions and hunger enough to only drink what’s needed and then heal the bite wound with a solid lick of his tongue. After he’s done feeding, he makes sure to leave their body in a safe place until they come to, waking up from what they believe to be just a blacked out moment and they’re on their way back home.
He steps in the direction of the ‘lady of the night’, and your face twists into one of sadness as you say your parting words, doing your best not to slip up as you speak and let the lump in your throat win over.
“Be careful, okay? I guess I’ll—,”you awkwardly looked away and locked eyes with another classmate of yours — Jimin — giving him a tight smile and small wave, before turning back towards Jungkook to finish your statement and are meant with nothing but an empty space.
He was gone.
Surveying the area, do you catch a glimpse of his back, his hand that was once on the small of your back only a couple hours ago, are now on the mystery girl’s as he leads her around the corner and out the side gate, into the night.
“Y/N, hey! Are you by yourself? Want to hang out with me and Yoongi?”
Jimin’s smiling face appears in front of yours. If he notices the way your eyes are rimmed red with unshed tears, he doesn’t comment on it. Just throws a friendly arm around your shoulders to guide you towards his friends. His excited rambling tickles the shell of your ear as he tries to talk over the blaring music, it having changed to a catchy k-pop song that you love cause it reminded you of Jungkook.
The very person you currently wanted to forget, if only for the rest of the night. As you walk up, Yoongi gives you a silent nod in greeting and you reciprocate the action with a small smile.
They don’t leave your side for the rest of the party, and, dare you say, you actually had a good time. The next morning, you realize, maybe too much of a good time.
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geronimomo-spd · 5 months
Text
and there we go! the full Confidential Archive!
here are all the episodes, according to tardis wiki list, including all of the mini specials and chrismas specials and most if not all in good quality! the full list of everything is under the cut because yeah, its a longgg list!
all in order, including some youtube videos and dvd rips hehe, all according the the tardis wiki list
SERIES 1 -
1x00 - A New Dimension (a prolog to season one, narrated by David Tennant)
1x01 - (rose)
1x03 - (the unquiet dead)
1x04 - (aliens of london)
1x05 - (world war 3)
1x06 - (dalek)
1x07 - (the long game)
1x08 - (father's day)
1x09 - (the empty child)
1x10 - (the doctor dances)
1x11 - (boom town)
1x12 - (bad wolf)
1x13.1 - The Ultimate Guide (another little documentary right before
parting of the ways, about key aspects about filming the season)
1x13.2 - (parting of the ways)
1x14 - Backstage at Christmas (the nine minutes they gave us from some of behind the scenes of The Christmas Invasion)
SEIRES 2 -
2x00 - One Year On (a general preview for season 2, including the series 2 press launch, a lot more behind the scenes of The Christmas Invasion and some Torchwood stuff)
2x01 - (new earth)
2x02 - (tooth and claw)
2x03 - (school reunion)
2x04 - (the girl in the fireplace)
2x05 - (rise of the cyberman)
2x06 - (the age of steel)
2x07 - (the idiot's lantern)
2x08 - (the impossible planet)
2x09 - (the satan pit)
2x10 - (love & monsters) - (featuring the winning of the contest of designing a monster)
2x11 - (fear her)
2x12 - (army of ghosts)
2x13 - (doomsday)
2x14 - Music and Monsters (the behind the scenes of doctor who's first music show, including some behind the scenes stuff of The Runaway Bride)
SERIES 3 -
3x01 - (smith and jones)
3x02 - (the shakespear code)
3x03 - (gridlock)
3x04 - (daleks in manhattan)
3x05 - (evolution of the daleks)
3x06 - (the lazarus experiment)
3x05 - (42)
3x06 - (human nature)
3x07 - (the family of blood)
3x08 - (blink)
3x11 - (utopia)
3x12 - (the sound of drums)
3x13.1 - (last of the time lords)
3x13.2 - Children in Need Special (the behind the scenes of the special where 10 meets 5, really cute stuff)
3x14.1 - Kylie Special (series 3 christmas special. version 1 - the full version in less of a good quality i found on youtube, bless this youtube channel honestly)
3x14.2 - Kylie Special (series 3 christmas special. version 2 - the shorter version that was up on iplayer)
3x14.3 - Kylie Special (series 3 christmas special. version 3 - the version i edited to include the low quality parts that were missing with the good quality shorter version)
SERIES 4 (INCLUDING THE SPECIALS) -
4x01 - (partners in crime)
4x02 - (the fiers of pompaii)
4x03 - (planet of the ood)
4x04 - (the sontaran stratagem)
4x05 - (the doctor's daughter)
4x06 - (the posion sky)
4x07 - (the unicorn and the wasp)
4x08 - (silence in the library)
4x09 - (forest of the dead)
4x10 - (midnight)
4x11 - (turn left)
4x12 - (the stolen earth)
4x13 - (journey's end)
4x14.1 - The Journey (So Far) (a documentary about the entire show so far)
4x14.2 - Confidential Christmas 2008 (behind the scenes of The Next Doctor christmas special)
4x14.3 - Doctor Who: Top 5 Christmas Moments (a sort of confidential behind the scenes clip show of all of the episodes set at christmas)
4x15.1 - At the Proms 2008 (behind the scenes of doctor who at the proms 2008)
4x15.2 - The Eleventh Doctor (the special they used to announce Matt Smith as the new doctor who)
4x15.3 - Desert Storm (behind the scenes of Planet Of The Dead)
4x16 - Is There Life on Mars? (behind the scenes of The Waters Of Mars)
4x17 - Lords and Masters (behind the scenes of The End Of Time, Part One)
4x18 - Allons-y! (behind the scenes of The End Of Time, Part Two. version 1 - full dvd version)
4x18 - Allons-y! (behind the scenes of The End Of Time, Part Two. version 2 - shortend higher quality version from iplayer, this version has a song in the soundtrack that is diffrent from the dvd version, this is the most accurate version to what aired on tv at the time)
SERIES 5-
5x01 - (the eleventh hour)
5x02 - (the beast below)
5x03 - (victory of the daleks)
5x04 - (the time of angels)
5x05 - (flesh and stone)
5x06 - (the vampires of venice)
5x07 - (amy's choice)
5x08 - (the hungry earth)
5x09 - (cold blood)
5x10.1 - (vincent and the doctor)
5x10.2 Monster Files: The Daleks (a little documentary about victory of the daleks/daleks in general)
5x11 - (the lodger)
5x12 - (the pandorica opens)
5x13 - (the big bang)
5x14.1 - Monster Files: The Weeping Angels (a little documentary about the weeping angels episodes this season)
5x14.2 - Monster Files: The Silurians (a little documentary about the silurian episodes)
5x14.3.1 - Monster Files: The Alliance (a little documentary about the alliance of monsters from the pandoica opens)
5x14.3.2 - Backstage at the Doctor Who Prom 2010 (behind the scenes of doctor who at the proms 2010)
5x14.4.1 - Charlie McDonnell - Runner (the first Charlle behind the scenes videos, pretty quiet - Currently not up on the archives as Charlie has expressed the need to remove her old videos)
5.14.4.2 - Charlie McDonnell - TARDIS (another Charlie video, she explores the tardis set this time -Currently not up on the archives as Charlie has expressed the need to remove her old videos)
5x14.4.3 - Charlie McDonnell - Decorating Bus (another Charlie video, she decorates the food place with christmas decorations, i liked them Charlie - Currently not up on the archives as Charlie has expressed the need to remove her old videos)
5x14.4.4 - Charlie McDonnell - Christmas Presents (badger) (the famus Charlie video where she brings the cast and crew presents! this is where Matt gets his badger puppet - Currently not up on the archives as Charlie has expressed the need to remove her old videos)
5x14.5 - Christmas Special 2010 (behind the scenes of A Christmas Carol)
SERIES 6 -
6x01.1 - (the impossible astronaut)
6x01.2 - My Sarah Jane: A Tribute to Elisabeth Sladen (a special memorial for the late Elisabth Sladen 😭😭)
6x02 - (day of the moon)
6x03 - (the curse of the black spot)
6x04 - (the doctor's wife)
6x05 - (the rebel flesh)
6x06 - (the almost people)
6x07.1 - Charlie McDonnell interviews Neil Gaiman (Charlie interviews Neil Gaiman, appewrently causing some ruckes on Charlie's blog at the time hehe - Currently not up on the archives as Charlie has expressed the need to remove her old videos)
6x07.2 - (a good man goes to war)
6x07.3 - The Monster Files: The Silence (a little documentary on the silence, thank god because i needed that)
6x07.4 - The Monster Files: The Gangers (a little documentary on the gangers, my beloveds)
6x07.5 - Charlie McDonnell Becomes A Dalek (the last Charlie video, released late because it had the 1-4 tardis set, also she gets to ride a dalek in this one - Currently not up on the archives as Charlie has expressed the need to remove her old videos)
6x08 - (lets kill hitler)
6x09 - (night terrors)
6x10 - (the girl who waited)
6x11 - (the god complex)
6x12 - (closing time)
6x13.1 - (the wedding of river song)
6x13.2 - The Monster Files: The Antibodies (a little documentary on the antibodies from lets kill hitler)
6x13.3 - The Monster Files: The Cybermats (a little documentary on the little adorable cybermates because awww)
6x14 - The Nights' Tale (a little documentary on on the nights mini episodes! the last confidential stuff ever made rip)
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stsgooo · 3 months
Text
Love, Hate, Love.
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✩࿐ summary: shoko reminisces.
warning(s): death, description of gore, angst, hurt no comfort, depression, bit of a character study(?), sad yuri. wc; 3.2k
pairing(s): ieiri shoko/fem!gojo!reader.
a/n: this is kinda messy, but i love shoko and wanted to write something for her so :3 excuse anything that just
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SHOKO STARED DOWN AT THE BODY OF ITADORI YUJI AND SHE FELT AN ARRAY OF EMOTIONS.
Disdain. Anger. Frustration. Confusion. Exhaustion. Slight, slight sadness. Emptiness.
She didn’t know Itadori Yuji well. She had only met him for a few minutes when he was passed out and thrown onto one of the many medical bay beds by Gojo. Had patched up the rather small cuts and bruises, listened as the tall teacher described the King of Curses. Then sent him on his way.
Shoko hadn’t seen Itadori again until he was a corpse on her table.
It wasn’t that Shoko was sadden by this strange boy’s loss. Not entirely. She had no attachments or thoughts on the boy. Even when he had gotten everyone talking.
No, it was more about what Itadori Yuji represented in that moment.
Death was a common thing to happen within their world. Every day it was something new. Whether it be non-sorcerer, sorcerer, or a random animal, there was death to be following. Random at most, but there were few instances where it was intentional. Where the grapevine of gossip lead to something catastrophic. That it lead to the death of a young sorcerer with great potential.
Itadori hadn’t been the first to die. And he certainly wasn’t the last.
No. No, Shoko could recall her first vividly.
First, it had been Yomada Han in their first year. A third year that had been the last of his class. He’d run into a trouble, died messily. It’d been the first time she dissected a body. The first time she threw up over it too. It’d been the first time she had a cigarette too.
He’d been sent off to slaughter because of his hand in some clan mess. They thought it was justification enough for his murder death.
Dissecting and seeing death got a little easier from then. Shoko didn’t throw up anymore. She didn’t get angry or question why someone was on her slab. It was just what happened. She came to accept it.
The second had been… well, Gojo Y/N.
Shoko was still unclear on what exactly happened that day. She can just recall the dread and sickness that flushed over her when she saw her sprawled out on the cot. The way Gojo’s voice shook and pleaded with her— desperately trying to appease to Shoko’s good side as if she hadn’t wanted to save her. As if that’s the only thing Shoko wanted to do.
She’d seen a lot by then. Geto’s chest wide open, the insides of various students and curses, bloody limbs. But she had never seen something quite like that.
It was so surreal to have been speaking to someone a day before, smiling and laughing, sharing touches and secrets. Then have half of their brains scattered on your table the next.
Still and silent. The entire time she had been still and silent.
It was all so sickening.
Shoko hadn’t even been able to take a step towards her before she was throwing up the food she’d consumed in the last 24 hours. Tears flushing down her cheeks and bile rising in her throat. Brains trailed into the room and blood dripped from the end of the table onto the ground like a leaky faucet.
She was sick. She was sick. Shoko couldn’t stop being sick.
Then, she hadn’t been sure what to do as the white haired boy pleaded and cried. As his twin remained limp in his hold. Shoko had just watched with trembling lips, shaking hands pressed against her mouth.
She was dead before she was even found.
Shoko had concluded such during the autopsy. As she pushed tears away behind her protective goggles, cutting into her… her….(what? Her friend? Her friend.) As she cut into her friend’s bones and body. Gojo Y/N had been dead the moment the curse made contact and dealt the blow. The moment her skull cracked open and her brain turned to mush, she was gone.
At least, that’s what she reassured Gojo and Geto (and herself) with.
"They said it was a Grade Two," Gojo had said in a whisper, slumped in his seat, eyes uncharacteristically vacant as he stared at the ground. A hollowness that embraced them all was evident and clear. "They sent her with Nanami and Haibara because it was a Grade Two. So why are they both dead? Why is my sister dead? Why was it a fucking Local Deity? It was a Special Grade!"
Gojo had broken down then. A mess of rage full tears as he uttered on about how it was a mistake. One that costed his other half, since birth, to die. It was surreal to see the Strongest reduced to this. A bumbling mess. While he tried to piece together the puzzle of death. As he questioned the justification behind his sister’s death.
Shoko had wished she was afforded the same.
"Satoru," Geto had whispered, oddly blank and hollow himself. As he always had been back then. For a year he’d been a husk of who he once was. Body always tense, always frail and alert. Tired and withering. "You know how she is… was. She would’ve tried saving Haibara no matter the grade."
Haibara had been the third.
He held out longer than her. Given that she’d jumped in front of the curse to save him. Still, he’d been split in half. Nanami only retrieving his upper half with a pale face and hollow eyes. Still, he died.
What was the point of her dying if the one she saved died too?
Shoko wasn’t sure
And neither was Gojo.
"Yeah, and now there two dead sorcerers!" Gojo had shot from his chair. Fast enough that it bounced off the wall and made a horrible sound throughout the empty hallway. Shoko could recall the way she flinched back the moment she felt Gojo's technique fire up. A barrier between him and the people he cared about. An unrelenting and unchecked power that kept his rage contained. "W-Who even cares about Haibara—?"
"Satoru." Geto's tone had darkened considerably. His face shadowed under the flickering fluorescent lights. Any other time Shoko would've ran away. She would've made some comment about them being annoying trash, then stalk off with her in her shadow.
Not now. Not ever again.
Gojo's face crumbled, he grew desperate at Geto's call, "I... Why does it have to be her?" His eyes split to Shoko, narrowed and angry. "I thought you could do something."
Shoko, taken aback, had tensed. "Half of her brain—"
"You love her, right?" Gojo had continued, ruthlessly, "Right?"
A nod.
"Then you should've saved her!"
"Satoru!" Geto's hand wrapped around Gojo's arm, pulling him away. "What the fuck are you doing?"
"I'm wrong?"
"Yes!"
"What the fuck do you know, Suguru?"
"What do I know? I know that you're..."
Their voices had faded away as Shoko stared endlessly at Gojo's previous spot. A well of tears collecting in her eyes as her hands buried deep within her pockets, clenched and shaking. Her technique was great, it was amazing. She'd done a lot even before she was 18.
So why couldn't she save her?
It stuck around with her for a long time. Well after Gojo had stomped off with tears flowing down his face. Well after Geto had conjured up the last bits of his fake kindness and apologized, tried to comfort Shoko. Well after she was alone in her dorm, holding onto the pieces of her that were suddenly all Shoko had left.
Death was sudden. It was the last curtain call. In their line of work, there was usually no time for goodbyes or last words. Much like this situation. It was inevitable and everyone would meet their making sooner or later— it was only a matter of when. It was better to accept you wouldn't get nice little bows in at the end of your life instead of constantly thinking about it.
Still, Shoko had wondered if there was a possibility she could've saved her. Wondered what she would've said in her last moments if she had the chance to say goodbye.
It was a bad downward spiral to commit herself to. Especially when she was alone in the dark, laying in her bed, staring endlessly at the ceiling above.
It was flat-out dangerous to wonder when she was wrist deep in her chest cavity.
Shoko was best for it. Allegedly. She was the best bet to tell them all exactly what happened to her technique and body as she died.
Originally, Shoko had been tempted to just write that Gojo Y/N lost her brain. What else was there to report? What else could her family possibly want to know?
But then bitter curiosity got the best of her. She needed to know everything. She didn't even care about what the Gojo's wanted to know. Shoko herself had to know if her soul— if the technique just... vanished.
She wasn't really sure what she expected when she stood over her in the morgue. How she would possibly cut her open and scoop out her organs as if she hadn't been speaking to her two days ago. Had been engaged in conversations. Blushing when their hands brushed against one another. As if she hadn't—
"Shoko, what do you want while we're gone?" She had stopped by before they were to be sent off, lightly sprinkled white H/C hair. Expression light, but serious, as it usually was. "Treats, shirt, another body for you to pick around in? Ew, by the way."
Usually, a girl wouldn't think anything of it. But Shoko, elbow deep within a curse, blushed like she was an elementary girl. "Sorry"
She leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, smile small yet tender, "So? What does sweet, sweet Shoko-chan want as a souvenir?"
Shoko always had a hard time believing Y/N was a Gojo. Especially the same product line of Gojo Satoru, who was just... the opposite of her. This girl was intelligent and kind, beautiful and timid. Self-aware, selfless, and She wasn't anything like the boy she shared the womb with, or birthday, or name. A twin. Same blood, same name, everything them. But so distinctly different.
"I'm not really interested in anything." Shoko had replied with a tilt of her lips and a shrug of her shoulders, pulling away from the curse corpse to face her fully.
Y/N's eyebrows raised, "Really? You're not interested in a single thing?"
"Not really," She walked closer, "What did the others get?"
"Oh, uh, I'm not entirely sure—"
"Gojo-senpai!" Haibara had barreled around the corner, loud and grinning, his hair flopping as he bounced around. "Geto-senpai would like something sweet for himself and your brother!"
She had released a bitter sound, fond and amused, but bitter all the same, "Of course he'd be thinking about Satoru." She turned back to Shoko with a small tilt of her lips. "You sure you don't want anything, Shoko?"
Shoko wondered if things would be different if she said anything else than what she had. If she asked for some ridiculous sweet or a stupid shirt, would things have ended differently? If she kept her around for a little longer, would someone realize the misclassification of the curse? Could Shoko have done something?
Who knows. All she said was, "Just come back. That's enough for me."
Her face had scrunched up, a light laugh leaving her as she turned, waving a hand, "Just for you, Shoko! See you around."
It wasn't anything special. Her goodbye had been a teasing promise. A nonchalant wave. Nothing special. Another day. It wasn't anything special.
So why did it have to be the last?
The autopsy ended abruptly. As Shoko held onto a trash bin, sobbing and throwing up the little food she had in the past two days, Yaga put it in the hands of someone much older. Much more detatched.
Gojo Y/N had died almost instantly. Before she could even activate her technique.
That sparked up a chatter at her funeral.
If the affair wasn't sickening and horribly in the first place, the conversation that took place most certainly was.
The people that attended outside of Shoko and Geto where just some old clan members either from the "Big Three" or some lowly ones. They all kind of just loitered around as they ate food and conversated. Nothing exciting, nothing entirely too telling of their grief either.
She couldn't ever recall Gojo or Y/N talking much about the other clans. If only to drag them through the mud, express their great distaste, or general displeasure. Shoko just knew that an occasion like this, filled with old people and terribly traditional things, was something that the girl nor her brother wanted. She knew that they all like the Gojo's about as much as the Gojo's liked them. Which was not very much.
It was only as Shoko was using the bathroom that she overheard what they truly thought.
"I heard that she didn't even have the time to activate her technique before it killed her."
"It's not like her technique would've done much against a Special Grade anyway. The Six Eyes got all the potential. If anything, that boy that got killed alongside her had more skill."
"I thought she had some type of power?"
"That's just a lie the family put out to calm their egos. They gave birth to the Six Eyes while giving birth to a useless girl right after."
"Poor thing."
"I wouldn't worry. The girl was a bit airheaded, she probably didn't even know she was boring."
It took everything in Shoko not to snap. To not ruin their gossip with her petulant cries of anger. It was just wrong. What they thought of her. There's never been something so wrong.
Y/n was different and amazing, magnificent and interesting. She was strong in ways that Gojo wasn't. She could hold her own. She was intelligent on things outside of jujutsu just as much as she was in things regarding jujutsu. Shoko wasn't sure where they got their information but it was wrong. It'd always been wrong.
Seven days later, Geto killed an entire village.
Thought about her and Haibara the whole time. The mountain of bodies that came with being a sorcerer. Killed 112 people just because he was angry and sad. At least, that's what Geto had said to her.
Shoko wished she could've destroy a whole village in her grief.
Those are all the things Shoko thought as she slips on her gloves, glancing back at where Gojo and Ijichi were standing in the corner.
"Hey, you guys, I'm gonna get started," Shoko says flatly, with her usual detachment. It'd been years since she felt uncomfortable or disgusted with this job. Just a normal routine now. "You gonna just sit there and watch?"
She snaps her glove into place at the same time Ijichi's face visibly pales and his jaw drops, Gojo's own face screwing up into something akin to shock. She was about to ask what was wrong, but—
"Whoa! Full frontal!"
Shoko whirls around to look at Itadori Yuji who looks, shockingly, fine.
Well, Shoko's never had someone come back to life in her morgue before. (No matter how much she's begged.)
She tugs down her mask, staring at the boy with disappointment, "Well, this is too bad."
Itadori blinks, a faint blush on his cheeks, "Um... who are you?"
"Yuji!" Gojo stands, a beaming grin on his lips as he walks forward, hand extended. "Welcome back!"
The teen lets out a loud laugh, clapping his hand against his teacher's for a loud slap that almost makes Shoko wince.
"I'm back!" Itadori cheers, smiling back.
"You sure are!" Gojo then tucks his hands into his jacket, turning around to face Shoko and Ijichi. "Hey, can I speak to you outside for a minute? Ijichi, get Yuji something to change into."
"O-Of course, Gojo-san!"
Shoko doesn't even dignify Gojo a response, lazily making her way out of the room with bored eyes. There went an afternoon of digging through Sukuna's vessel's organs and finding out what made him so different from the others. What allowed him to inhabit the King of Curses while so many others had died trying. It would make for perfect research. Fun and interesting.
But the kid just had to wake up. From death.
(She tired to ignore how many times she'd imagined her waking up on her table too.)
"Ugh, now I have to go back and change the report." Shoko utters bitterly once the two adults are outside.
"No, leave it as is." Shoko snaps her eyes to Gojo, who keeps his carefree smile on his face. "Before he's targeted again, I'd like to at least give Yuji some basic training. Please leave him listed as deceased in the report."
Shoko frowns, tucking her hands into her pockets, "Then Yuji will have to go into hiding for good."
"Nah, I'll have him ready in time for the Goodwill Event."
The Goodwill Event. Now, that was something she wasn't entirely concerned with. Something she didn't think Gojo was either.
"Why?" Shoko utters.
"Easy. I refuse to keep that kid from losing the best years of his life. Not just him, but everyone."
The way he says it is tender and true. Said with his heart and his soul. Despite how childish Gojo has always been, he's been terribly aware of when kids should be kids. Something he'd been keenly aware of when he was a kid himself.
Gojo suddenly tilts his head, smile distant and incredibly sad, "Not to mention... he kind of reminds me of Y/N, y'know?"
Shoko's steps falter. They've never really engaged in a conversation about her before. Never really a chance or reason to. Shoko figured they always had their own thoughts and opinions about what happened. Their own grief pushed down to be ignored. Never addressed.
But he—
"Bit of an airhead, but he means well. Smart when it calls for it. Wants to do the right thing no matter if it's his life on the line." Gojo stops a few feet ahead of Shoko, back stiff and, unfortunately, unreadable to her. "I wonder what she'd think of all this."
Shoko draws in a breath, inching closer to lean on the railing overlooking the courtyard. "She'd be disgusted to learn you're a teacher."
"Disgusted?" Gojo repeats with a pout. Shoko just knows that his eyes are narrowed behind his blindfold. "And she wouldn't judge you for cheating your way through med school?"
"She would, but I wouldn't care." Shoko rolls her eyes.
Gojo presses his lips together, leaning on the railing next to her, "I don't think I would either... as long as she was here."
Shoko tenses and her eyes grow distant as she watches leaves twirl and fall in the distance. Her ears begin to ring and she thinks, for one single moment, that Gojo is right. If she just had her right next to her. Breathing, talking— living. Then Shoko might be one of the happiest people alive. She wouldn't care about any of this. She wouldn't worry about anyone leaving or dying. She would just—
What was the point of think about something not possible?
11 years. They needed to let go already.
"I'll make sure Itadori is, in all the official ways, dead." Shoko pushes away from the railing and begins to make her way back to her office (ignoring the soft snort Gojo gave). "Make sure he doesn't die again before you can train him."
"I'll do my absolute best."
11 years. What's a few more minutes with her memory.
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