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beels-burger-babe · 3 years

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Storm Clouds on a Sunny Day

***Oooooo Teen!MC! Thank you for the request @lovevictoire! Now, although I think I'm technically Gen z??? (I could be a millennial. I have no idea). I have like 0 sense of most pop culture and probably won't be able to write that classic gen z chaotic humour properly, so I'm not going to attempt. What I can do is the hurt/comfort aspect of this which I LOVE! So, let's do this. I hope you enjoy it. ((Oh and before I forget *hugs*))***

Summary: MC has always been a happy positive ray of light that brought joy with them wherever they went; at least that's what the brothers and the other exchange students would tell you. But when they suddenly start getting quiet and begin isolating themselves, everyone is concerned.

TW: descriptions of grief.

In the darkness of the Devildom, you were the sun.

Since arriving in the dark, cruel world of the demons, you had reminded them how to smile, how to laugh, how to love. With you around, it was like the brothers had another sibling again. For the other exchange students, you were a breath of fresh amongst all the horror and despair of the Devildom.

In short, everyone had come to love and be incredibly fond of the teenage human that; which is why they noticed instantly when you weren't acting like yourself.

For starters, you had skipped breakfast, which greatly concerned Beel. The friendly giant had to go up and bring you your food afterwards.

He gently knocked on your door with one hand as he held a plate with way too much food on it in the other. "MC? Are you awake? You missed breakfast."

There was a small curse from the other side before he heard some shuffling. The door cracked open to reveal you wrapped in a bundle of blankets. It wasn't until you looked up that Beel got a good look at your face and his stomach dropped.

Your eyes were tinged red with tear tracks stained onto your cheeks. Your bottom lip was still trembling from the effort of not breaking down into sobs. There was not a trace of the sunshine child that you usually were inside of your stormy sad eyes.

Beel's heart broke as you still attempted to give him a small smile and took the plate from him. "Th-Thanks Beel."

He kept a hand on the door to prevent you from closing it. "MC, are you alright? What happened?"

Your eyes widened a little and you quickly wiped at your cheeks. "I-I'm just not feeling that well. Can...Can you tell Lucifer I'm taking a sick day?"

Beel nodded as concern grew stronger and stronger inside of him. "Of course. Whatever you need."

You weren't actually sick, Beel could tell that much. What you were was heartbroken. Something had reached into your soul and shattered it into pieces. He to ask you what it was. He wanted to reassure you that everything would be okay. But instead, he let you close the door and hurried back to his brothers.

His brothers looked at him skeptically as he arrived, noting the lack of a tiny human alongside him. It was Belphie, however, who noticed the distressed look on Beelzebub's face. "Beel, is everything alright? You look upset."

Beel simply shook his head and looked over to Lucifer. "MC has asked me to tell you that they would like to take a sick day."

Everyone was instantly on their feet in worry.

"Sick? What kind of illness? I can get any medicine they might need and look up the quickest way for them to recover." Satan quickly stated as he began to move towards the kitchen.

Belphie nodded and picked up his pillow. "If they're sick, they'll need rest right? I'll go up there and help them sleep better."

Mammon moved to go with Belphie. "I'll come with ya. They'll feel better with if their favourite's there with them."

Belphie growled and shoved Mammon as Levi spoke up. "I-I mean, I doubt they'd want to spend the entire day with me, but at the very least I can provide them with some movies and games for entertainment. In fact, it might be easier if we just, um, m-move them to my room."

Mammon and Belphie were now snapping at Levi rather than each other.

Asmo scrunched up his nose in disgust and put up his hands. "Yeah, no thanks. I love MC, but I'll leave you guys to handle all the snot and vomit thank you very much. Tell them when they're healthy, I'll give them a spa day, just the two of us."

Lucifer sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Boys, Beel hadn't even told us what is wrong with them yet," everyone froze and turned to Beelzebub. Lucifer nodded and gestured for him to continue. "As you were saying, Beel."

Beel shifted uncomfortably at the attention. "Right. So, I don't think they're actually sick."

Lucifer rose an eyebrow at this as an air of defence grew around him. "You think they would lie?"

Beel huffed in annoyance and shook his head. "No. I don't think they would. But when they answered the door, they didn't look sick. They looked like they were grieving," everyone breathed in sharply at the statement, but Beel continued. "They honestly looked like they had been crying since midnight. I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't get any sleep at all last night."

Lucifer frowned and finally made a move towards the door. "I, and I alone, will go speak with them. We don't want to overcrowd them. In the meantime, someone please contact Simeon just in case they truly are sick and Beel misinterpreted it," he ignored the several shouts of protest as he walked to your room.

He knocked softly on the door twice before carefully opening the door. "MC? Beelzebub informed me that you aren't feeling-"

Lucifer cut himself off as he saw you hugging your knees to your chest in bed, sobbing your heart out. He quickly made his way over and sat down beside you, gently placing a hand on your back. "MC, what's the matter? I've never seen you this upset before."

You didn't answer. You merely turned towards him and buried your face in his chest as you clung to his shirt. Lucifer quickly wrapped his arms around you and held you tight.

It was almost as if he could feel your sorrow within the sounds of your cries. The way they shuttered and cracked with every inhale and vibrated with pure agony on every exhale. You were trembling violently in his arms in a way that he hadn't felt since-

Since he held his brothers after Lilith's death.

Realization came to him as he glanced over and noticed the lightly crumped picture of you and another human on your side table. His breath caught in his throat and he held you tighter. "Oh MC," he whispered softly. "I am so sorry."

He held you there, letting your tears stain his shirt without a single care. He held you as your sobs softened into sniffles. He held you as your head lolled to the side and you finally gave in to sleep.

Lucifer had been about to fall asleep himself when he noticed the door open. Simeon, Luke and Solomon stood there with equal expressions of concern.

Luke took one look at your tear-stained face before a flicker of fury and angelic protectiveness flashed across his face. He opened his mouth to shout at Lucifer, but was stopped as a hand came over his mouth.

Solomon looked down at him sternly. "They're sleeping, Luke, and clearly in need of it. You don't want to wake them."

Luke huffed and slapped Solomon's hand away before going over to the bed and climbing in beside you and Lucifer.

Simeon pulled out a bag that clinked and clattered from the vials within it. "Satan had said that there was a possibility MC was ill?"

Lucifer sighed and continued to rub circles into your back while Luke gently dried your face with a handkerchief. "Unfortunately it seems the only illness they have is a broken heart." He nodded to the picture on the nightstand. "They appear to have lost someone. Today must be an anniversary of some sort that reminded them of it."

Both Solomon and Simeon's faces softened at the explanation. Simeon put the bag away. "I'm afraid I don't have anything that can help with that."

Solomon nodded. "It's a feeling I believe we are all familiar with," he stood in silent thought before snapping his fingers and grinning. "I know what will cheer them up! Some soup! It most certainly cheers me up whenever I'm upset. I'll go make them a pot right away," he smiled proudly as he left the room, missing the look of horror on everyone else's face.

"Oh my," Simeon began, "I better go supervise and make sure he doesn't accidentally poison them. Luke, do you wish to come?"

He shook his head and hugged you. "I'm not leaving them."

Simeon smiled fondly and glanced up to Lucifer who shrugged. "So long as he doesn't mind being the presence of a demon, I suppose he can stay."

Luke grumbled and continued looking at your hand as he held his up to it and compared sizes. "If they were able to fall asleep around you and you were able to comfort them...maybe you're not so bad."

Simeon raised an eyebrow in shock and laughed a little. "Well there you have it," he looked back to Lucifer. "I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything."

He nodded and watched the older angel leave.

@thegrimgrinningghost

Although the day was a rough one for you, there was not a second where you felt alone. There was always someone to hold you, to listen to you, and comfort you when you needed it most.

On days when sadness and despair threatened to cloud over the Devildom's only source of sunshine, the lords of the Devildom and your friends would be there to keep you warm until the sun could shine again.

***I hope you enjoyed this cute little comfort fic! Thanks again for the request @lovevictoire!***

TAGLIST

@henry-and-the-seven-lords

@satans-beloved-riv

@cosmixbun

@sufzku

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cheekygreenty · 3 years

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Little Witch - Part 12

the Darkling x Reader

The hour was late as the stars basked in the darkness and cold winter air. The fire roared in its hearth while your still steaming cup of sleep-aiding tea sat untouched on the small table. Your talk with Alina earlier was the cause of your unrest. You didn't know whether to feel sorry for her or be frustrated with her. She is a lovely girl, most pure and kind and quite literally the definition of sunshine, but something about her irked you and you hated it.

Maybe it was her somewhat unhealthy obsession with her friend, the tracker- Malyen Oretsev, or the sheer denial and lack of understanding of her position. Sure, Mal was the only thing that tied her to her old life, a sense of home, but he didn't belong anywhere near the Little Palace and posed a threat to Alina's true potential. She should understand that, no doubt it's been explained to her many times. She was no longer a random girl from the First Army or a Child of Keramzin, she was the Sun-Summoner and had to act the part.

But there was also a nagging feeling in you since your last words with Aleksander, the ones about the stag. From what you could gather, Alina definitely wasn't power-hungry, not yet anyway, and placing an antler anywhere on her would be against her wishes. You knew deep down that whatever he had planned would go far beyond just giving her an amplifier for her sake.

You sighed and moved around on the armchair again, trying to convince yourself those were the reasons you couldn't sleep, that Alina's position in this mess was why your mind wouldn't shut off, but who were you kidding, it was her and him. For starters, she called Aleksander by his name. The second the word left her mouth, your blood ran cold.

'Is he not here?' Alina looked to you from over her mug, eyes scanning the room.

'Who?'

'Aleksander, is he away at Kribirsk again?' Your smile faltered and your grip on your own mug loosened. But Alina waited for an answer.

'Oh umm, I don't know.' You did but the shock caused your mind to blank completely.

You had known Aleksander for years before he even told you his true name, you had to earn it. She spoke of her General with a fondness, at one point even speaking of him as if he were more than just her commanding officer.

'Do you miss the First Army Alina? I know you left friends behind, not just Mr.Oretsev.'

'I suppose I don't feel at home just yet, it's a lot to take in, this whole division of orders thing doesn't help either... But he assures me I am not alone, that I have an equal in the Palace.'

An equal?

The heat of the fire was doing nothing to calm down your rising rage. Apparently Aleksander was doing more talking with Alina than you'd thought, even sacrificing his own true name, one only spoken by you and his mother, for her to utter as if it was just another name. So what if you were in his chambers, making use of his office and sleeping in his bed, he clearly had his eyes on two prizes or maybe just one.

You felt sick now, be it from the heat or the anger, you got up and opened a window. The cold and dark night was a stark contrast to the licks of the flame. It made you feel at peace, but only momentarily. You heard voices outside, slowly growing louder. You rested your head against the wall, begging for one last moment of stillness, but alas the door was yanked open and his boots echoed throughout the room. You cursed yourself for deciding to spend another night in his quarters. You thought he'd be gone longer than just 4 days.

'I do hope you made yourself comfortable' His voice was as smooth as the kvas you had downed after Alina left. You wanted to turn around, but the anger was still there and all hell would break loose if you let your emotions run wild again.

'I did thank you. At least you have a desk'

'I'll get you one first thing in the morning'

'No need, I already requested one' Your voice was void of any emotion. Don't start a fight.

'Are you alright?'

'Just tired, being diplomatic is hard work' It sure was right now.

'Might I suggest actually getting into bed then?' His hand slowly came around your wrist and pulled you in the direction of the bedroom but ironically at the simple touch, your anger grew, when it usually has the opposite effect. You saw out of the corner of your eye that he had a genuine smile on his face, one that tended to make you melt but not now. You shrugged him off and walked in the direction of the door, leaving him utterly confused.

'Y/N what's going on.

'I'm tired, I'm going to bed' You tried so hard to act normal, not in any way pissed.

'Y/N look at me'

'Goodnight Aleksander' You couldn't help it, the mockery of his name just came out. There goes the diplomacy.

You heard him quickly walk towards you and tried to get to the door first to escape the tense atmosphere you created but he got there first, blocking your way.

'What?' You threw your hands up in exasperation not yet looking at him.

'Did something happen whilst I was away?'

'No'

'Then what is it'

'Nothing'

'Don't lie to me Y/N'

'Oh but it's okay for you to lie to me' Your eyes finally bore into his.

'Excuse me?' His expression read baffled; annoyed; pissed.

'Move away from the door Aleksander'

'No! You're going to be mature and have an actual conversation with me for once' He asked for it.

'Alright fine, Let's start with Alina''

'Y/N'

'I had a lovely little tea party with her today. Sweet thing. She loves to talk once you get her going. She told me a lot of fascinating stuff, including your name! How interesting don't you think.' Your voice was so cold it even made you shiver.

'I can explain'

'I'm not finished.' You felt that pull in you, that pull that comes before you put your fire or shadows to use but crammed it down with all your might. 'Her best friend hasn't been replying to any of her letters and I can recount there are many of them. Guess what I found in one of your drawers? They are all very poetic don't you think? I'm all for helping her adjust, but that's not help, that's manipulation Aleksander.'

'She won't let him go, It's dragging her down.' He said through gritted teeth.

'Dragging her down or away?' The double meaning in your words didn't go unnoticed by him.

'Y/N all I want to do is go to bed right now, I've had a long day, please.' His hand reached out for yours but you scoffed and moved away.

'You wanted to have this conversation, General, don't shy away when your actions are questioned.'

'Fine' He unblocked the door and crossed the room, throwing his cloak and kefta on the floor with a heavy thud. 'Is there anything else you wish to accuse me of Y/N dearest?'

'Look at you, so bitter but I haven't heard you deny any of it'

'You may go now if you like.' He picked up a decanter of whiskey and poured himself a generous glass

'Since when are you this childish Aleksander. Have I missed something in my 100-year absence?' You mocked.

'You left me with all of this' He gestured to the palace. '-That's what happened.'

'Don't turn this around on me, and I told you that wasn't a choice.'

'The Y/N I knew would have come back and not hid like a coward'

You stilled and waited for any sign of apology, but it never came. He meant it even though he knew how much such a simple statement would hurt you. You turned slowly and walked to the door.

'While I'm gone, at least have the common decency to change the sheets before you bring Alina in here' you shut it loudly behind you and heard the breaking of the glass, no doubt thrown at the door as you were leaving.

What a day.

Taglist

@theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @0-artemis @lostysworld @xceafh @fire-in-her-veinz @patdsinner33 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @wizardwheezes @aleksanderwh0r3 @tomhollandisabae @hotleaf-juice @justmesadgirl @exo-1204 @houseofdupree @oberonpascal @eireduchess

Ok so idk if people can see this but I posted this like a week ago and apparently nobody seen it so here it is!!!!

Part 13

Here's my masterlist!!

#shadow and bone #grisha #imagine #the darkling #the darkling x reader #alexander #alexander morozova #ben barnes #fanfic #alina starkov #Alexander morozova x reader #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan #keftas

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ogravensimp · 3 years

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this one is for@mistkissedmoon a lil more Dad!Constantine with a ft. from Jason Blood and John would be so terrible at taking care of ppl but still like really care, so I hope I captured that feeling in this

“This was your big emergency?”

Jason Blood gave a blank stare to the British man across from him.

He didn’t usually just drop everything to attend to someone; especially if that person was John Constantine, but ever since the exorcist decided to take care of the Gem of Scath he proposed it would be a good idea for John to keep him on speed dial.

He didn’t actually expect John to use said number.

Constantine was a demon expert in his own right. Jason believed that he was right to assume that the only reason his help would be sought after was only if the apocalypse had begun.

He felt a nerve in his temple twitch in annoyance (and, ashamedly in disappointment).

It's just that when John rang him and pressed for him to come to the House of Mystery, he had simply been expecting more...destruction. Maybe some blood and fire raining from the sky, the earth itself cracking open to release eldritch horrors of all kinds or even complete ripping of the fabrics of reality.

Anything along those lines would have justified his presence being required, but instead, he was met with-

“achoo!”

Jason looked down at the small form below him.

The spawn of evil incarnate was smaller than he thought it would be. If one ignored the glowing red gem wedged into its forehead, it could easily fool for another harmless 7-year old girl.

Especially as it laid half-dazed in its bed, staring up at the ceiling in a lucid trance. With only half its face poking out from under their star themed blanket, it sniffled pitifully due to the snot dripping out its flushed nose.

The room was perfectly mid-temperature, but the child has so drenched in sweat that even the towel on top of its forehead had over-soaked but yet it still shivered as if it was below -0 degrees.

Was the level of the child’s symptoms extreme? Yes.

Was it worth calling him for? Definitely not.

The daughter of Trigon was sick, yes, but it was obviously just the flu.

“That’s what I‘ve been saying.”

Jason turned to the source of the voice—a young woman stood in the doorway and held a tray of what seemed to be cups and bowls.

John had introduced her as Zed and he had just assumed they were in a relationship— to focused on the assumed threat to try to examine their personal lives.

Maybe he should’ve guessed this excursion would be a waste of time by Zed’s expressions. When he arrived she had shot him nothing but apologetic looks. At first, Jason believed the worst laid behind the doors he was led to but as he now knows, that was not the case.

“That idiot thinks it’s some paranormal curse,”, Zed huffed as she sent a glare at the blond man who began to try and defend himself.

“It's been weeks and she's still under the weather. You think Beelzebub gets the bloody sniffles?!”

“But a child of her age would! Especially one who reads in the tub and doesn't dry her hair before going outside in August,” Zed rolled her eyes as she spoke as if the answer was obvious—and they were, "maybe if you stopped treating her as the destroyer of worlds and instead as a 7-year-old, you won't have wasted the poor guys time."

Jason couldn't help but internally agree with her words.

John continued his defence, "All I'm saying is when I got a cold, I just carried on with my day maybe a bit foggy up there but hardly half-dead like Blackbird over 'ere."

Another eye roll from Zed was the only reply.

Approaching them, she extended the tray towards Jason. He gave a look at the cup of tea and noticed it seemed to be next to another 'sweat towel' in a bowl, he cringed a little before rejecting the offer.

Zed just shrugged before dropping the tray onto a side table and drinking the cup herself. Taking a seat at the edge of the bed, her gaze was soft as she stared down at the child, her hands ran through the child short dark tresses in a comforting manner.

Jason studied how she gently cupped the back of the Gem of Scath’s head and raised it, picking up a cup of water from the side and bringing it to the demon’s mouth and it drank with obedience.

The more Jason watched, the less he could even continue to refer to this child as a demon.

Etrigan was a demon—looked like one too.

How could he use the same term he'd use to describe the bastard in him, to describe this tiny looking thing before him? And though he could sense the hellish magic pouring out of her, for now, she was harmless.

"Alright, summon him out."

John's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. He gave him a perplexed look before asking, "Excuse me?"

"Etrigan. Your demon buddy," the way John looked and spoke, you could tell he saw no issue with his request, "Just wanna confirm from a primary source whether if this is something worse or natural way of life."

Jason was flabbergasted, 'was this why he was called?!'

John sighed.

Actually looking peeved by Jason's confusion.

To the side, he heard Zed's chuckle as she began to switch the towels on the girls head, "told you he wouldn't do it."

"Oh bog off," John retorted back before turning back to him and placing a hand on Jason's shoulder, "Listen, it's either you or I visit ol' Luci and I'm simply not really...eager to have that encounter. So do me a favour here, and just bloody say the rhyme."

Jason looked at the hand on his shoulder like it was a parasite before smacking it off. Taking a breath to compose himself, he turned to the exorcist, " I assure you, there is nothing Etrigan can assist you with that I cannot also offer."

"A huge fuck-off sword?"

Jason glared, "Let me see the child," he spat—obviously ignoring the previous statement.

John put his hands up in surrender before indicating with a turn of his head to the child who had actually risen during their conversation and was now sitting upright—well, slouched and she was staring half-lidded at the wall with the only sign she was awake being her harsh breaths.

He bent down as to be in her level of sight and stuck his hand out, "Hello, my name is Jason Blood, you must be..." "Raven." "-yes, thank you, Zed. They tell me you are a bit under the weather?"

Jason realized halfway that he never learnt the girl's name and had simply just been referring to her as the Gem of Scath. He felt a tinge of guilt for his rudeness, but the dazed stare the girl gave him was confirmation that she was barely conscious enough to even notice.

He also realized it was ridiculous to try to shake a child's hand and was bout to retract it when he felt a pair of smaller ones latch onto his fingers.

Looking up he met a sleepy pair of amethyst eyes trying to focus on him, "N-n-nwot sick...jus-jhwust..uh sleepy and...cwold," with a voice that was softer than a whisper, plus the slurring of her words due to the fever, she was basically incomprehensible.

He was going to try and retract his hand again when he felt something soft come in contact with it. He looked down to see that she had placed her face in the palm of it and wrapped around it like a snake.

With a single muttering of, "...warm...like hellfire", she fell asleep with his hand still under her.

He looked at Constantine.

Not really sure what to do, but the con-man only grinned before giving him a tap on the back, "Good lad Jason, put her to sleep. Even I couldn't do that, let alone Etrigan. Guess I'll leave it to you."

And with that, Zed and John stood up and began to exit the room.

Jason was still in shock to even speak; so before he realized what they were doing, they already switched off the lights and closed the door with a soft click.

He simply stared into the darkness, the only illumination being the moon and stars outside.

Sighing, looked down at the fiend holding his hand prisoner and contemplated yanking her off. She was small. it would incredibly easy to flick her away and then he could simply depart home...but then he felt a squeeze.

As if the girl sensed his thoughts, she clung harder onto his limb like it was a lifeline.

She looked truly at peace right now; her harsh breaths were now nothing but puffs and she was less...sweaty. Demon spawn or not, the girl was no more vulnerable than a newborn fawn at the moment. Jason just didn't have the heart to disturb her peace for his own gain.

Another sigh could be heard in the silent room.

'Maybe an hour longer won't hurt but after that, never accept a favour for John Constantine again.'

hope you like it, feels weird writing characters that aren't just raven and my other faves, hope I didn't make anyone ooc

#raven dc #raven teen titans #john constantine #zed martin #john x zed #dad!constantine #constantine & raven #dc comics #raven fanfiction #jason blood #etrigam the demon

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babylooneytoonz · 4 years

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200 Followers Appreciation Post

I'll be very honest, two months back when I joined Tumblr, I hadn't expected that my writings will be read by many, and the last thing I had expected was to be followed. Now look far we've come, from 0 followers to 200.

A personal thank you and a lot of love to each and every follower of mine.

I think this is the best part of our fandom. We love each other like family.

As a little token of my thank you, I decided to publish two of my requests combined as one today. Hope you like it. 💓

Tommy Shelby x Fem! Reader

Request 1- Prompt "We can’t win. Either I have you and my soul sings but your cries, or we’re apart and your soul rejoices but mine dies."

Request 2- Reader was always in love with Tommy, thinking he can't love her back she starts writing cheap novels as a way to deal with it. Her books become popular and everything is cool until Tommy finds out about her hobby and notices similarities between her writing and real life.

Warnings - Angst

GIF Credits - @thomasshelbyltd thank you. ❤️

A Maid's Diary

You slumped against your desk, letting your head rest against the old wooden table top, your elbows on either side of your face. Your desk was a cluttered mess, with sheets of paper flooded all over. In your hand, you held a pen, as you were just seconds back, scribbling vigorously on a parchment as an idea had just hit you, and just as swiftly, the idea had vanished from your mind.

You couldn't forget and you couldn't forgive your best friend, Linda, for having betrayed you by sharing your diary to a local printing press, who had, without your permission, published your countless feelings that you had penned down in your little diary, without even your consent, although they didn't take the credit for it. You were still the writer, even though the publishers never published your real name on it, just a pen name.

As much as you hated to admit it, the little push made by your friend had worked tremendously and your popularity had grown amongst the lower middle class especially; as that is where you hailed from. They loved your modesty, they loved how humble and down to earth you were, although you were extremely talented.

Little did they know, that the book that had been published, as an act of mistake, was actually based on your life.

"What is it that you are reading?" Tommy pushed his round glasses over his eyes, as he looked through them and fixed his broody stare on his wife.

Grace was sprawled on the couch in his study, shimmering in a beautiful pearl white satin nightgown hanging loosely over her slender frame, her natural blonde hair falling loosely over her shoulders. She seamlessly brought up her ring studded hand to her hair, running her fingers through the locks as her eyes came to rest on her husband.

"Would you look at this Tommy?" She raised a red little book in her hand, showing it to him briefly, before she sat back more comfortably. Their son, Charlie, crawled about on the carpeted floor, playing with a toy train. "I don't know who this woman is, but if you read this book, you would feel like you are a bloody part of it."

"Is it one of those fucking love stories again, Grace?"

"It's much more than that, love. It's complex. It's like reading a person's life, living her memories."

"Right, well, I'm out, I've got a bloody meeting with Arthur at the pub." He stood up, sliding his hand into his waistcoat and pulling out the pocket watch, taking a quick glance at it. He then kissed his wife a goodbye, lifting Charlie up in his arms, "Be good, you cheeky little oaf."

Little did he know, how that would be the last week, that he was spending home with his wife. The next week, Grace Shelby was shot, and she couldn't make it.

As days inched by, Tommy started growing more and more morose. Although he didn't show it, those around him felt it everyday. The snapping and the yelling increased, and Tommy found himself sleeping less and less, and chugging down more and more of that alcohol to keep his mind at rest. There were weeks when Tommy didn't see his son. Although he felt guilty, for neglecting him, as the poor child had lost his mother, just like he had lost his wife, he couldn't bring himself to face him, as he reminded him so much of her.

Soon, weeks turned into months and finally, Tommy's agony subsided to a bit. It wasn't as if it was an overnight process, but somehow, over the course of time, Tommy didn't feel the hurt anymore, as he initially did— or maybe, he learnt to live with it.

One night, when the nightmares crippled him to such an extent that he found himself unable to sleep, he decided to go through Grace's belongings, something he had kept locked up in the attic, afraid to touch them. Holding a lantern in his hand, he walked up the flight of stairs, the old floorboards creaking underneath the weight of his foot as he stepped into the dinghy little room. In a corner, a brown crate was hoarded up, keeping all of Grace's belongings.

Pulling off the the wooden board that was nailed shut, he pried it off and ran his hand through the dust coated silk dresses, his fingers gently brushing against the fabric. He let out a weak, pained exhale, slowly sliding down against the floor, pulling his hand out as he started fumbling around his pockets for a cigarette.

With a lit cigarette in his left hand, he slid his right hand back in, feeling around the box until his palm hit something hard. Pulling it out, he saw a little red book that was now turning a shade of purple at the edges. The book was coated in a sheet of dust, causing Tommy to squint his eyes slightly and scrunch up his nose as he brushed the dust off its cover.

A faint smile, a fond remembrance of Grace reading this book with such enthusiasm brought a weak smile to his lips. He took a drag of his cigarette, pulling himself off the floor and pocketed the book, walking out of the attic.

It was his eyes, eyes that could hold an entire ocean in them, that captivated me. I often found myself looking at him, stealing glances, when no one was looking. A part of me begged for his attention, hoping, yearning that he would atleast give me a glance but he never did.

The more he read through the passages, the more he realized what Grace had meant. This was not just a book, it was someone's life, it was someone's feelings. The words were simple and not at all fancy, the backdrop set was not that of a fine mansion, it was a tiny little house, in a clamoured street, a family of five siblings, four boys and one girl, and the writer, who was just a servant. The writer knew the love she felt for one of the sons of the house was wrong, improper and it was forbidden because she was a servant and they were her employers but she couldn't help how she felt, no matter how hard she tried to forget. Tommy couldn't help but feel drawn— drawn to the writer's pain, her anguish and the feeling of being stuck at the end of a self destructive, one sided love. He knew what it meant to not get to be with the person you loved. He had experienced the pain, although in a different sense but somehow, he could relate. Although Thomas Shelby didn't show any feelings, he had eventually fallen head over heels in love with Grace Burgess and life with her had been a life of roses and poppies, while he was a crown of thorns; that Grace bravely adorned on her head.

It was a cold night, and I was freezing. I could feel my cheeks turning to stone and my hands fervously rubbing against my arms to keep myself warm. I could see them right in front of my eyes; the whole family. They looked happy. They brothers were teasing their sister, who had a look of dismay plastered over her face, and the youngest brother, who was just a toddler, ran about the parlour, sucking on his thumb. I wondered if it was selfishly wrong of me to think of him in this way, to imagine how our little household would have been, had I been bound to him by marriage. I wondered if it was a sin, wondering what I would have named our children if we had a handful of them.

Thomas found himself leaning back comfortably in bed, straining into his glasses, wanting to read more, although his body and his eyes were beyond tired. It was as though he could see a glimpse of his life before the war had been, right through someone else's eyes. He could see little Finn, perched on the carpeted floor, running his toy train all over it, making a weird engine sound with his mouth while John and Arthur teased Ada for something she had probably said. He could picture himself by the window, staring at the dimly lit sky, the illuminating stars, thinking of the moment Greta took her last breath, her frail hand falling limp in his warm one.

How unlucky had he been with women, he had watched the women he loved die, in in his arms.

As I scrubbed the dishes in the kitchen, I could hear the curses in the parlor. He was screaming at himself, bringing the dishes down, breaking them one by one. No one dared stop him, because no one wanted to be slammed against the wall or have to be the one taking a porcelain hit on his face. I wondered if I should step in, maybe give him some tea but I didn't. Maybe, he didn't need it. It was only later that I found out he had lost the love of his life.

He shoved the book aside and sat up straighter, running his palm through his face, his breathing shaky and rushed. He grabbed his cigarette box off the bedside table and lit himself a cigarette. Maybe reading this book had been a mistake, it was opening up all his raw wounds that he had buried away.

He was leaving. I wanted to ask him when he would be back but of course, that would have been such a silly question. And besides, he had a lot more on his plate, why would he want to speak to a servant? I stood behind the kitchen wall, listening to the solemn parting, the shuffling of feet, listening to them leave until finally I could hear them no more— I could hear him no more.

Years after years, I went on with life, with a smile on my face. I did what I always did in the mornings; scrubbing the floors clean, washing the dishes, preparing supper and doing the laundry. At night, though, I thought of him and his blue eyes. I wondered if there was any news, for I hadn't heard anything about him in ages. Maybe my prayers were finally answered, the war ended and they all were back home. Only they weren't themselves. The war had killed a part of them. They were the ghosts of war, left to meander the Earth until they finally died.

"Mr. Shelby?" Tommy sharply looked up, his eyebrows straightened into a visible frown.

"Yes, Mary?"

"Charlie's asleep, the supper's ready. I was wondering if I could get a night off—"

"Mary, you may. You have bloody worked hard enough to earn a night off. Go on then, hurry up, it's pretty dark outside."

He watched her leave, staring at the door before bringing his gaze back to the book, wondering if the writer was out there somewhere. And he wondered, and hoped, that she had finally gotten to be with the man she loved. She deserved it. She deserved all the happiness in the world.

I finally mustered the courage, after what seemed like eternity, to speak my heart out. I was afraid of rejection, but he deserved to know. I deserved to be free of this heavy secret in my heart. I didn't care if he would ask me to leave, stop coming to work from tomorrow but he needed to know I loved him. So, I stepped out into the chilly night, wrapping myself with whatever warm I could find. I walked and walked, until I was at his pub. Of course, he wasn't there. With a heavy heart then, I thought of going back home, through an alley, that was a shorter route. Little did I know, I was never going to get the man I loved for he already had the woman he loved, the woman from the pub; that barmaid. I saw the man I was in love with, from a window, the way I always imagined him to be with me, kissing her and stroking her cheeks. It was as though I heard a devastating sound somewhere close by, but it was nothing but my heart—shattered into two.

Thomas Shelby was many things, but he was not ignorant, or dumb. He slammed the book shut, shoving it on the bedside table. His heart was racing rapidly and he could feel blood rush through his veins. Arching his body forward, placing his elbows on his thighs, he buried his face into his palms. Every single detail in the book, every single piece of writing was something he had experienced before. It couldn't be a mere coincidence, could it? He slid out of bed, stomping through the hallway into his study until he was perched on a stool by the telephone his fingers frivolously moving against it. He knew what he had to do now.

"Pol?" He mumbled into the phone the instant he heard her on the other side.

"Tommy? It's fucking midnight, what's the bloody matter?" Tommy didn't mind he had woken her up. He needed answers.

"Do you remember a maid that worked for us?" He sighed into the receiver.

"Tommy, we have hired a dozen fucking maids, which one are you talking about?"

"She was with us when Greta died, when we went to war—"

On the other side of the telephone, Polly's demeanour softened. She remembered you, she even knew how you loved Thomas, but she could never bring it up to her lips, because she knew that you and Thomas had no future.

"Yes."

"Do you know where she is? And for fucks sake, don't lie."

Your coffee mug lay on the table untouched, smoke bellowing out of it in waves. Outside your window, snow drizzled from the sky, like tiny droplets of fur falling to the ground, your garden sheeted in pristine virgin white.

"Love, you have to bloody see this," your friend Linda's voice echoed through the closed door, loud enough to alert you.

"What is it?" You threw open your window, watching your bestfriend stand at the gate, her eyes fixed to your window, "Just get your bloody arse down here (Y/N), I have to show you something. Come on out, now."

Annoyance.

You practically ran down the flight of stairs, not even stopped to calm your breaths.

"Jesus, Linda, it's fucking snowing, I'm going to freeze to—"

"Sorry love." Linda gave you an apologetic smile, her index finger pointing towards the silhouette of a man leaning by your front gate, slowly sliding out of the periphery of gaze. Neither were you watching her. You were watching a ghost of your past, that stood leaning by the metal gate on your front door, a cap on his head, a long overcoat drawn over his scrawny body. He had gotten weaker than you had last seen him.

"Miss (Y/N)." His voice was curt, yet warm, without a trace of malice in it. After all these years, he was right here, on your doorstep.

"Mr. Shelby? Would you like to come in?"

He shook his head, rather, his eyes and you knew that he didn't want to talk in the confines of your home, under prying eyes. He slowly pulled out a book from his pocket and your eyes widened. Your fingers flew to your lips and you felt a rush of blood in your body, an instant feeling of being in the warmth of a fireplace. You wanted to reply, but you couldn't find the words.

"You read my book, you found me out."

"It wasn't that fucking difficult to figure it out, love."

"Jesus, would you please come in? It's freezing out here, you're going to bloody catch a cold—"

He cut you off as you turned to walk in, grabbing you by your arm, not hard, but firm enough to stop you from walking. He then pulled you towards him, your front hitting his hard chest, to look into his face.

"It was you all along?"

You didn't know what to say anymore. He had found you out. After all these years.

"I don't understand—" You whispered, shaking your head. You couldn't lie, his eyes were making you nervous and all the feelings that had simmered over the course of time were finally lighting up again. "I'm sorry, I didn't know it will get published."

"Do you believe in destiny?" He cut you off.

You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to mentally think where he was going with this, "Perhaps, Mr. Shelby, but you need to be clearer than that."

"I didn't believe in fucking destiny, until this minute. I can't believe I'm fucking saying this—" You could see reluctance in his eyes, an inward fighting. You could see that he was thinking hard, probably having a hard time figuring out what he should say to you. "You remember Greta?"

You were hundred percent sure you weren't smiling, but had you been smiling, it would have withered.

"Yes, Mr. Shelby, the girl that died holding your hand, the girl you loved."

"Good, and what about Grace? The woman you saw at the fucking window."

Your cheeks reddened at the remark with embarassment, making you regret how he had read that part. That was a private thing between Thomas and Grace.

"I didn't mean to pry, I was just passing through the alley and I looked up and I —" You voluntarily bit on your tongue in an attempt to silence yourself because you knew you were babbling and your words were not making much sense. You needed to compose yourself, compose your thoughts.

"I married her, yeah? And do you know what happened then?"

You closed your eyes briefly, hoping he wouldn't see the pain in your eyes. When you blinked your eyes open again, you straightened slightly, almost taking a step away from him. He caught your arm, pulling you back to him.

"We have a lovely boy together, Charlie, he's three almost."

You wondered if Tommy was here to chastise you, to make you apologize, or maybe, your book had caused a rift in their marriage.

"She was shot. Fucking took a bullet that was meant for me. I fucking watched her die. Twice, (Y/N). I think it was my destiny. Will you ask me why?"

"Mr. Shelby—" You hopelessly began, trying to tell him how sorry you were about what had happened. But what could you do? It wasn't as if you had shot Grace.

"Just bloody ask me why."

You stiffened at the harshness of his voice.

"I- Why?"

"Because this fucking destiny had something else in mind for me. Perhaps it was you all along, the one I was maybe meant to be with."

Your eyes widened in surprise at his words, a sudden palpitating feeling in your heart, a sudden throbbing in the back of your mind. You pulled your arm away, wincing slightly at his sudden outburst, instantly moving away.

"Your words make no sense. Will you please stop?"

He parted his lips in an attempt to reply, but all that shot out of his plump lips was foggy winter air and he shut it. His hand flew to the side of your face, but he didn't touch you. He merely took a loose strand of your hair, curling it over his index finger. You could feel the sudden tension, his lips so close to you, you knew if you didn't stop him, he would kiss you. And later regret it.

"Mr. Shelby, this is a mistake. If I was your destiny, I would be the one buried in a grave and not the women you loved. I did love you," you spoke, hopelessly pulling yourself one step away but this time he didn't make an attempt to pull you close, perhaps having sensed your reluctance.

He raised his eyebrow, "Did?"

"I still do, but I don't think we were meant to be."

"I see," he almost stepped closer, reluctantly, fighting for control at the back of his mind. This was a new feeling. He knew he didn't love you yet, but at the same time, he knew he was in love with the woman from the book. The woman who had always loved him.

"Why?"

A single word can hold a vast meaning. A single word can have an answer that you could probably write a book on.

"Because Thomas .. We can’t win. Either I have you and my soul sings but your cries, or we’re apart and your soul rejoices but mine dies," you whispered in a low voice, tears shrouding into your eyes.

"Yet there's a bloody thing that binds us to each other. Something neither you nor I can see," he mumbled under his breath, sliding his hand into his pocket, pulling out a box of cigarettes.

You didn't know what to say to him. Your mind was fervently throbbing through your skull. Your heart leapt with joy but your mind didn't let you be at ease. He waited a few seconds but when he realized you had made up your mind, he decided he will not push you. You had given him the answer. You didn't want him. He nodded softly, letting his eyes wander down to your feet for a bit before giving you a last look as he turned his tail and started walking off, his boots crushing the snow as he started walking away.

And just like that, you realized that history was repeating itself. But this time, it was all your fault. You were letting him walk away when you could finally be happy.

"Thomas stop.." His name flew out of your mouth even before you could clamp your mouth shut. You saw him freeze, but this time, he didn't turn your way, but with his back turned towards you, you missed the hint of a smile that crossed his lips; the way you had stopped him meant that he still had hope.

"I would like to work for you again, does Charlie need a nanny?" You bit your lip.

It was nothing, but yet, it was a start. If destiny really wanted the two of you together then you wanted to try it out from the beginning, maybe make the man fall in love with you and not the woman who wrote the book. You wanted him to love you and not pity you.

"Twenty shillings, you stay at the Arrowe House, no further will be discussed on that, yeah?"

You gave him a weak smile, although you could not see his face.

"I'll see you tomorrow then, Mr. Shelby, first thing in the morning at 9."

He nodded and then, sliding his hands into his pockets, he walked away, his heavy boots crushing the snow underneath, generating a squishing, crunching sound until you could hear him no more. You couldn't wipe that smug smile from your face as you looked up at the sky, scrunching up your nose when you felt something cold; perhaps a snowflake had landed on the tip of your nose. It was a start, a start of a new day and who knew, perhaps a new life for you. Needless to say, you were excited.

#thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #peaky fucking blinders #peaky blinders x reader #200 followers appreciation #thank you for liking my work

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wonglix · 4 years

Text

➺ 𝟒𝟖 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬

⤷ y/n x bestfriend!jisung; f2l!au

⤷ jisung knew that you two couldn’t actually run away. that doesn’t mean that he won’t take you up on your offer when you call him crying, begging to leave with you. even if it’s just for a few hours, he’ll take any chance he gets to run from the energy-draining lifes you two are living

⤷ angst, fluff

⤷ 2.9k words

03:21 AM - 0 hours on the run

jisung's woken up by the excessive ringing of his phone, grumbling quietly to himself while feeling around for his phone on his bedside table. he can't read whos calling him, being blinded by the bright screen. picking up he groaned out an annoyed, "what?" instead of your cheerful voice asking him to go out for some late-night snacks, he is met with excessive sobbing from the other end. sitting up, he rubs his eyes and clears his throat.

"y/n? why are you crying?" he can barely understand a word you're saying, worry building up inside him. "y/n, i know it's hard, but please calm down. i can't understand you when you're crying this much, bun. take a deep breath, yeah?" he can hear your ragged breathing and his heart hurts a bit. no matter how many times he sees or hears you crying, it pulls on his heartstrings every single time and makes him want to wrap you up in his arms and press little kisses to your face until you can't help but let out those precious giggles of yours he loves oh so much.

it took you a few minutes to calm down, jisung silently listening to your breathing and how it gradually started to become regular. "bun, tell me what's wrong now please..." he said gently, his voice helping you calm down a bit more. you took another deep breath, "it's all getting too much, sungie. i feel like i can't breathe anymore, i-....i want to leave. i don't... don't wanna be here anymore jisung." you stammered with a shaky voice. jisung's face turned into a frown when he heard how much you were struggling, his heart breaking a bit. all he wanted to do was to protect you and make sure you're happy, and hearing you so broken and small was too much for him.

"what do you want to do, y/n?" he asked softly, a sigh leaving his lips when you kept quiet for a while. "sungie...i have a favour to ask you", you mumbled. jisung nodded subconsciously, "anything, y/n. you know i'm here for you, always." hearing him talk like that was reassuring and you softly asked, "will you run away with me? not, like actually, just for a few days. i...i need space, sungie. but i don't wanna go alone, so....will you come with me? a few days, just me and you?" jisung swears he felt his heart jump. it was ridiculous, but hearing you say 'just you and me' like that was enough to make his heart rate pick up. almost instantly, he stammered, "y-yes. yes, of course, y/n. get ready, i'll pick you up soon, alright? let's run away."

04:30 AM - 1 hour on the run

you've been out and about for a little bit over an hour now. jisung has picked you up earlier; a small backpack was thrown over his shoulder and a concerned look on his face. he didn't even greet you, instantly pulling you into his arms and keeping you there for a while. you were incredibly thankful for him. he's always been the one you go to with your struggles, ever patient and ready to hold you close to him for hours on end. you know that your relationship to jisung was more than just best friends supporting each other. the line between friendship and love having been blurred a long time ago though neither of you has ever mentioned it.

you walked in silence, no real destination in mind. your hands were hands brushing against each other from time to time, jisung's fingers itching to take your hand in his. "how about we stop by a convenience store? stack up on some snacks, maybe eat something?" jisung recommended, turning to look at you. you nodded and kept walking, jisung sensing that you were still a bit off. heaving out a sigh, he reaches out, taking your hand in his. you look at your joined hands for a second, intertwining your fingers with his. jisung glanced over at you in surprise, a small smile on his lips. he was so in love with you that even holding your hand like this was making his heart race and heat travel to his face.

a little while later you were sitting inside a convenience store, each of you has picked out a few snacks you planned to take with you on your journey. jisung insisted on buying both of you some ramen, since you two needed - according to him, at least - new energy to take on the day. you knew that it was mostly jisung wanting to make sure that you were eating something, the thought making you smile while chewing on your noodles. jisung was done with his noodles earlier than you were, getting up to throw away the container. instead of coming back though he went into a different aisle, picking out a few things and walking over to the cashier. when he came back, he sat down across from you again, throwing a few of the things he just bought on the table. you looked at him with raised eyebrows, confusion apparent on your face. "some dessert for you. it's your favourite too, so you better eat it." having to bite back a smile you nod silently, going back to eating your ramen. it was then that you saw jisung in a bit of a different light, a certain spark igniting something within you that has been there for a while now.

03:10 PM - 11 hours on the run

you spent the majority of your runaway adventure up until now walking through town, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. spending time with jisung always made you feel content, whether you two were getting on each other's nerves just for the sake of it or if you were laying in your bed together, you head nuzzled in his chest while he pressed lingering kisses to the top of your head - not once has his presence made you feel uncomfortable or overwhelmed. you decided to take a detour through a park, the weather luckily lovely enough for a slow walk. jisung was just about to ask you another random question when he looked over at you, only to catch you yawning. he noticed your droopy eyes and smiled a bit.

"how about we sit down for a bit? i'm tired of walking," he stops walking, gesturing at a nearby tree. "there's some shade we can sit in. i promise i'll even let you have a little snooze on my lap." he was teasing you now, the mischievous glint in his eyes making you smile. "sounds good to me." you breathed softly, the emotional exhaustion mixing with the hours of walking finally crashing down on you. jisung gently took your hand under the disguise that he was just leading you over to the tree, his nimble fingers twitching to intertwine your fingers again.

your head was in jisung's lap, his fingers absentmindedly playing with your hair. you were so tired, so exhausted and you wanted nothing more than to just sleep. it would make you feel bad though, jisung sitting there while you were happily resting on his lap. your eyelids became heavier and heavier, your view hazy and mind cloudy. jisung took notice of this, smiling down at you with the most gentle smile you've ever seen. "it's fine, bun. just sleep a bit, i'm here when you wake up. you need your rest," his voice was so incredibly sweet, and you could almost feel yourself tear up in your hazy state. pressing a comforting kiss to your forehead, he starts to stroke your cheek, quietly murmuring, "sleep baby." your heart jumped. you wanted nothing more than to sit up and finally talk about your relationship with jisung. then he started to hum softly, sleep finally taking over your body.

02:43 AM - 23 hours on the run

after your nap you went for dinner, jisung insisting on paying for the both of you. he made sure you ate enough, offering to order more food multiple times and sporting a cute pout on his lips every time you refused. after you were done eating you both just sat there for a bit, neither of you sure of what to do next. it was quiet between you, causing you to look at jisung a bit more intently than you usually would. you felt your heart speed up a bit when he looked up to catch you staring at him, a small smile playing on his lips. your eyes flickered to his lips, and for a split second, you thought about just leaning over, pressing a kiss to his lips. jisung didn't seem to notice though, his own gaze way too fixated on your lips, the same thoughts you were distracted by swirling around his brain.

after a while you decided to leave, the two of you back on the streets. you could see the exhaustion showing on jisung's face, feeling a bit guilty for making him come with you. you were in the outskirts of town by now, and there was no way for you to go back to either of your homes anytime soon. you knew that there was a hotel nearby and you made up your mind right at that exact moment. jisung looked at you with surprise when you suddenly took his hand in yours, pulling him towards the rundown hotel. "y/n?" jisung called out to you in a confused tone while you were leading the way.

stopping in front of the hotel you look at him, a tightlipped smile on your face. "i know you're tired sung, so it's probably best we stay here for the night. our only other options would be a random park bench or some grass. that wouldn't be too comfortable or safe, now would it?", your tone got a bit cheeky towards the end, making a smile creep up on jisung's face. "thank you, y/n.", the sincerity in his voice caught you a bit off guard, your cheeks heating up a bit. "don't worry sungie, i'm the one who made you come with me after all. the least i can do is to make sure you get a proper place to rest."

you decided to share a bed, the both of you sleeping next to each other more often than not. you flopped onto the bed the second you entered the room, jisung chuckling a bit while closing the door. he chucked his bag on the floor and jumped in bed next to you, his arms engulfing you almost out of instinct. you nuzzled into him and closed your eyes, exhaustion taking over your body. you were ready to just fall asleep when you heard a small, "you know that i'm in love with you, right?" jisung's voice was quiet, broken almost. you stayed silent for a while, and even though your silence only lasted for a few seconds, it felt like jisung had to wait for hours. tightly wrapping your arms around his torso, you nuzzle into his neck, placing a few soft kisses along his jaw. you could feel him tense, his heart pounding in his ears and blush spreading over his neck. "i know sungie. but it’s okay, because i'm in love with you too..", you gently whispered, lips ghosting over his neck. "but i'm pretty sure you also already knew that, right sungie?"

11:01 AM - 31 hours on the run

you were woken up by small, chaste kisses being pressed onto your face. your eyes fluttered open and you were met with a pleased jisung, a content smile on his face and an adoring sparkle swirling in his eyes. he softly murmured "good morning," while nuzzling into your neck, the few strands of his hair that were tickling you making you giggle a bit. it went quiet again, both of you just basking in the presence and warmth of each other.

"i really want to call you baby." you couldn't help but burst out into small giggles when you heard jisung's grumble, his brows furrowing and pout forming on his lips. "hey, don't laugh! i'm serious, i've been waiting for this day for years now." he whined while he hid his face in your chest, making you wrap your arms around him and pull him even closer. "sorry sungie, but you're just so cute. call me what you want, baby." the small squeak he let out at the pet name warmed your heart, a goofy smile replacing his previous frown while he looks up at you. "that sounds good, can you repeat it,...baby?"

after countless small pecks and soft giggles, endearing pet names and warm hugs, the two of you finally decided to get up and leave. once you left the hotel, you wandered around a bit, unsure of where to go next. "y/n, are you feeling a bit better?" jisung suddenly asked, his grip on your hand tightening a bit.

"yeah, i am. it's weird, but just being out of that house for a while really helped," you looked up at him and smiled a bit. before jisung could reply you started speaking again; "you coming with me helped me a lot, too. you're always there for me. i couldn't think of anyone else i'd take with me to run away...even if it's just for two days.", you chuckled a bit at the end of your sentence. "honestly? you could've asked me to run away for good and i would've probably said yes. i'm going where you're going, sweetheart." the pet name rolled off his tongue effortlessly, a warm feeling spreading in your chest.

08:49 PM - 42 hours on the run

you were sitting next to each other, your head on jisung's shoulder and one of his arms wrapped around you. you knew that you had to get back soon, and jisung agreed to at least watch the sunset with you after your relentless begging. he knew he couldn't say 'no' to you, he never could. jisung was always a bit too soft for you, hardly ever being able to refuse you anything.

"sung, can i ask you something?" you muttered softly, lightly playing with a loose string on his pants. "anything, baby." you lift your head to look at him, taking in his features that were so perfectly illuminated by the setting sun. he was truly breathtaking, and he was truly yours.

"when did you realise that you love me?" jisung lets out a thoughtful hum at your question, thinking about it for a bit. "probably when you came over to take care of me when i broke my leg a few years ago. you were so stern about me not leaving the bed, and you pampered me so much. i'm pretty sure that's when i went 'wow, i love them' for the first time." you smiled at the memory of jisung laying in his bed with a cast on his leg, him whining about how you had to cuddle with him in order to help him get better. thinking back it was always quite obvious what the two of you felt for each other, neither of you brave enough to confess, though.

"what about you?" you looked up at him, thinking about the moment he first made you realise how deeply in love you were with him. when was it, really? was it the time he came to pick you up from work in the pouring rain with an umbrella because he knows how forgetful you are? or was it the time he stayed on the phone with you for five hours, singing you to sleep because your anxiety had been acting up again? or maybe it was the time he stayed with you for four days straight, making sure you were eating and taking breaks while you were studying for your finals. you don't really know when you realised you were in love with him; perhaps because deep inside you already knew all this time.

03:59 - back home after 48 hours

you and jisung were standing in front of your house, hands intertwined. "you know you can always stay with me, right?", using his free hand to caress your face he looks at you with a mix of concern and love in his eyes. nodding slightly you leaned a bit into his touch, letting out a sigh. "i'm going to be fine, sungie. thank you for coming with me, though." the way you smiled at him made his heart swell, and before he knew it he was cupping your face, pressing a tender kiss to your lips.

you both just stood in front of your house for a while, neither of you wanting to separate now that you finally had each other. lifting his hands to your lips, you press soft kisses onto his knuckles, jisung softly blushing and a shy smile on his lips. "i love you, sungie." you were so sincere, so soft and gentle and it made him want to cry. he doesn't know why, but the thought of parting ways with you now seemed almost cruel to him. he just wanted to hold you, kiss you and tell you all the mushy things he had kept to himself for the last few years. pulling his hands away from you, he immediately crushed you in a hug, taking a deep breath to really take in your scent. "i love you too, y/n. so much. please don't ever forget that."

running away for two days didn't really help your problems or make you feel like a new person. you realised something that not only changed you but also changed your life for the better, though; you loved jisung, and you were lucky enough to know that he loves you too. and maybe, just maybe, the two of you could actually run away one day, only the two of you. until then you were content with where you were, as long as he was beside you.

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mademoiselless · 5 years

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[2/10]

"Hear her every thought, see her every dream."

Literature is that one subject you hated, you find it kind of boring that it makes you sleep most of the time in between discussions and lectures. You were annoyed to the fact that you won't be getting your degree if you dare to skip it on a semester. Apparently, you've never really imagine yourself having a fullblown distaste to that certain subject, not when an annoying, weird guy suddenly pops out of nowhere, asking you to be your partner.

"And what makes you think I'll let you be my pair?" You eyed his side curiously.

"Hmm..let me think," Jaehyun pretends to think hard, stroking his invisible beard under his chin discerning his deep dimples. "There are approximately thirty-two students inside this room which makes sixteen pairs, you see here, all thirty of them finally found their respective partners." He explains as a matter of fact.

"And?" You pressed raising him a doubtful brow.

"And... Only thirty students have been paired except for the remaining two.. hmm basic math I guess, which -"

"Doesn't make sense?" You offered, smirking a bit when you heard him snorted on his stupid reasoning. Truth to be told, there are thirty two students attending the class, twenty of them were girls which means half of the class were basically dreaming and fighting to be paired with him. The last fifteen minutes of the class were wasted with Jaehyun still pestering you to join him for the stupid research paper that you've been silently cursing, plus the annoying sound of his metal chair screeching against the marbled floor when he attempts to sneak near you ain't helping.

"Children, dont forget to pass your research work next week!" The middle-aged proffesor yells. "Get yourselves busy with the papers not with foils. Education before procreation. " she adds tilting her glasses down as she winks. Everyone laughs aloud but you didn't miss to hear the prick beside you snicker, probably finding the innuendo very relatable.

"Listen here Jung." You started, turning towards him as you stood with your notes and binder clutched againts your chest. "I really find you being really weird these days. Honestly, it's making me uncomfortable. " You tried so hard not to sound rude as much as possible but still with a hint of seriousness on your tone. "If you're planning to pull those damn tricks on me, please don't. I'm not one of them." Well, that stings a bit. He went slightly agape when you glanced up at him like he's going to speak but no words were coming out. "Please leave me alone." With that, you left the room earning curious and envy glares from random girls along the hall.

And that's how you basically tell someone to fuck off, short and nicely.

It was already 2 a. m and he can't find himself to sleep. He spent the whole day on classes and went home at ten from basketball practice, his body was dead tired but he couldn't help him self but to fidget and roll over the duvet, again and again. When he tossed to his side, that's when he finally discovered that thing on his night stand called phone were he could browse hundred of girls' numbers to call whenever he needs them, just like his old routine. He plops on his stomach, grinning from the idea and started to scan his cell, roughly running his thumb all over some random names that can distract him only to halt when he finally reached the bottom of his contacts, staring on it blankly and he's still thinking about you.

So many things were running in his head, first, his hurted ego. Not even once he received a rejection especially from a woman. Second, never in his entire life he become this so annoyed to his own surname. "Why does she even call me Jung when I have a first name?" he asked exasperately as his stirs in bed. why Jung off all the names? Third, why you? When there's so many other girls in the line waiting, ready to throw themselves at him. And fourth, what the hell is wrong with him? To answer his question, he doesn't know either. You were a sudden change to his life. There's something in you that's very unlikely that he didn't notice his strange interest will develop this far. That night, Jaehyun didn't sleep.

The weekend and Jaehyun's dilemma drifted fast at the same time. He woke up and get himself ready to college on a Monday morning with all his guts and charm. He seems like he got this renewed energy, but not really, the truth is he's just really stubborn, persistent. Right, speaking of being stubborn, the young lad cannot and will not admit of being one. He says it was out of his character and context. Competitive, that's what he is as for him and nobody can convince him otherwise.

Jaehyun arrives at the hall a little earlier than usual for that certain subject you two shared and had a quick scan for your familiar face but sadly found your chair empty. He sat down, this time near at your usual spot. The lecture already started, he checks the time and about fifteen minutes has already passed but you were still nowhere in sight, Jaehyun started to think.

The class ended lately due to some lessons that your prof decided to cram. He was the last one to exit the room when someone patted him in the shoulder, startling him. "Jae, cmon practice is about to start." One of his teammates call. Suddenly, he recalls you basically telling him to get out of your sight which made him cringe inwardly making him question himself more why you're still running in his head not mention that lowkey insult that you spew which is most likely true, but damn it wounded his manwhore image. "That girl is something." He mumbles to himself. Jaehyun isn't saying his worried, but he really is.

"She's not joining the summer tournament." Jaehyun faintly hears as he walks along the side of the court from the lockers, already on his basketball jersey. He was about to take another long stride when he caught your name being mentioned gaining his full attention. "Heard she's dropping out of varsity. I don't know." He silently evesdrops on the corner pretending to play on his phone. "But she's one of the aces, Tine. We can't lose her." The other girl sighed deeply.

For a long time, Jaehyun didn't felt any sense of care and overwrought to somebody else, he was a selfish, happy-go-lucky guy after all, but on that brief period he felt something break, drop and quiver inside him. He can not really decipher the feeling of it, it was warm and at the same time, it burns deep down. Of course the unloving jerk was still oblivious, but on that moment, for the very first time, Jung Jaehyun's heart started to beat.

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>> [3/10]

#jung jaehyun #nct jaehyun #jaehyun #nct127 #jaehyun scenario

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toomanygirlfriends-archive · 5 years

Text

Love Birds - Chapter Two

A/N: Alma and I may be married now, but I want to keep writing our story together, and posting it. At least we know there’s a happy ending.....right?

Tw: mentions of past trauma, AMOD SPOILERS

"Are you sure you want to go?" Max asked, her voice quiet. She had been helping Alma pack for her small adventure. Her now dual year companion was going on a trip that not only Maxiene herself had advised against, but Miss Avocet has spoken negatively on.

"Yes. It's been two years, Maxxie. They've got to have come around to me. I'm their daughter!" She reassured the ginger haired Ymbryn in training. Who continued to look unconvinced.

"Alms. I don't want you to get hurt."

"I won't be. I'll be fine." Alma closed her suitcase and looked at Max with a smile, "They're my mother and Father, Maxiene. They love me."

"But we love you too. So please don't go making us miss you, alright?"

Alma walked to take Max's hands in hers and pulled the slightly smaller woman in for a kiss, "I promise."

-0-0-0-

Alma was back three days later.

She had been shattered it seemed, unable to speak more than a few words before falling silent, or bursting into Tears. Max stayed faithfully by her side and held her when the tears broke through. She had no idea what her closest friend had been though, but she imagined it was similar to her own experience. She hadn't been much better after Miss. Avocet saved her from being burned alive. Max knew Alma would recall the story when she was ready, whether it took days or decades, Max was willing to wait.

It was almost a month before Alma would talk about what happened, and only to Max and The Headmistress. Max's heart had broken for her friend, such treatment from the very people who were supposed to love and protect their child was atrocious and disgusting. Sadly it was a common even for Peculiars. Especially those who changed in ways unexpected.

After Miss Avocet had left Maxiene and Alma's shared dormitories, Max helped get the sobbing dark haired girl into her bed, tucking her in gently, brushing along the angle of her cheekbones.

One thing that always mystified the ginger girl was how beautiful Alma always looked. She was a dark and mystic kind of stunning. It sometimes seemed like Alma was made by gods in an old age of marble and magic. Her pale form and bright eyes, dark almost navy tinted hair that came from her peculiarity making contrasts like ink on parchment. She felt her heart swell as she took in the way Alma's face was shaped. She had seen her so many times, drawn her, memorized every feature from her nose to her soft lips, to the sharp natural brows. Where Max had studied herself to be round and wide, Alma was sharp and slender, angular like the bird she could become.

Max hummed softly as the sobbing slowly became hiccups which became steady sleep dusted breaths. Max kissed her forehead as her eyes gently closed and moved to stand but Alma's hand locked fingers with hers, keeping her in place. Max looked down at her sleeping friend and met her alert, steely blue gaze, "Please stay with me." Her voice was hoarse and weak. The sound of it alone making every cell in Max's body yeild. The ginger paused, before nodding and moving to sit back down, "No." Alma's voice stopped her again, "Here."

Alma moved herself back so there was space in the bed for another body. Max felt the color rise to her cheeks as the thought of sharing a bed with the girl who gave her such wonderful and deep feelings with a single touch made her a lump rise in her throat. She swallowed it down and climbed into the small bed. There was only just enough room, for both of them and without Hesitation, Alma's arms wrapped around Max's waist and the other let an arm wrap under Alma's own waist and the other went to hold her head close to the crook in Max's neck.

The pair fit together like long-lost puzzle pieces, so naturally it felt like they had always been that way. Destined to remain settled here in this moment, this place. It almost felt like it had happened before, maybe another life time. Her mind traveled to that day in the meadow, the sunlight, Alma's lips against her own. They hadn't talked about that day since it happened almost a year ago. But the memory surfaced many times in Max's dreams. Alma was cool and smooth like water, or Ice on a pond. Max was the opposite, heated, brash, loud, some would say destructive, like Fire through a dry forest. They were the other’s greatest weakness and greatest strength.

The pair of them just...made sense.

Two clusters of matter meant to exist side by side, neither one without the other.

Max kissed Alma's temple, who mumbled something and shifted closer, tangling their legs together and content, that Alma was falling asleep as well, she let her eyes close and her mind drift away.

-0-0-0-

Miss Avocet knew the only person the young Bentham girl would want to be around was Maxiene. The pair of them had been inseparable from the moment her Owlish Pupil had opened the door for Alma upon her arrival. Partners in Crime, Joy and Misery. She knew the way Maxiene looked at the darker haired one. She had looked at her partner in just the same way when she was young and in love with Miss. Bunting.

She crept carefully to the door that lead to the younglings shared room and cautiously opened the door, peering in.

The sight that met her eyes brought a smile to her cheeks. Alma was resting gently in the arms of Maxiene, both of them fast asleep, breathing peacefully, Maxine holding the other tightly. With a soft sigh she retreated, closing the door behind her and heading upstairs to cuddle up with her own soulmate.

#max and alma #ship: Lovebirds

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broomswept-thoughts · 2 years

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Hm I've become infatuated way too fast over Ephraim. I... Sigh. It's hard for me to stop obsessing and waiting for his words, which is going to hurt when he inevitably stops or becomes bored and/or clarifies that he's only looking for a friend/ random internet stranger to talk or flirt with. I feel hurt and it's partially because I know I'm going to be disappointed by this stranger that I don't even know or will meet. I wonder if part of why my feelings escalated so quick was because of the impossibility of ever meeting him or anything actually happening. Its safe because the possibility of being totally friendzoned/ not seriously involved is so high.

I remain waiting and hung over this person. Who's busy with life and his post even said he wanted just someone to talk with during free time/ when both people are bored. I need to let go of holding attachments like this on people who are increasingly distant from me and will cost $0 to break it off or just stop wanting to be around me. Its all just entertainment anyway, the second it's serious it will be one sided and impossible. I know I might get FOMO anyway maybe in med school with a whole bunch of people around me. I'll just learn whatever I can from this relationship, and float through the feelings rather than desperately latching down on something that won't ever happen. I don't want to willingly walk into open pain again because it feels safe. It's not safe, it's a danger zone where I continue to hurt myself because hurting myself feels safe. I need to protect myself more, and I need to hold my own safety over my own comfort. I'm so eager to fall in love with someone, but I just want to experience the high and fall to feel something again.

What to do with these feelings. I guess they exist, but just runnjng away from Ephraim (or others) is just going to exacerbate this fear of attachment. The ideal is to have a platonic attachment that will not hurt me. I will not be in love anymore with people who are extremely unavailable realistically. It's not that everyone who I fall for are going to be unavailable like that, but this person is literally across the ocean in another country and continent. We can flirt because that's fun and also teaches me how to be chill with noncommittal flirting without placing heavy meaning on it (just flirting to compliment and have fun with the other person). I can't control what I find attractive even if it's not healthy. But I can control how much of these feelings I let control my everyday actions and feelings. I don't have to be neurotic or to tolerate highs and lows dependent on some stranger across the sea. I don't have go concoct this magical impression of the other person in my head who will be everything that I ever wanted or something, and who I ~have to~ be with to be happy. If he doesn't or can't respond, then I can let it go because what can you expect from an internet stranger who has a job? Things are busy often, and this relationship was built on the idea of it being chill and fun rather than serious and a drag to people. This is just talking and light flirting to pass the days and to make work feel less oppressive. There's nothing serious that's going to come of this, so i best just return to my everyday life where I enjoy things like music and dance and being warm in bed. This person is likely going to pass in and out of my life like a shade, and I should learn whatever I can from him to benefit me in the long term before he leaves from my life. I've learned a great deal about the UK already, and I'm glad if I can gain more knowledge too. I can see this as just purely what will self serve my life best, and I don't think being hung up on someone (after 1 week lmfao) makes any beneficial sense to me. I would just be alllwing myself to be emotionally tied down to someone who doesn't and prob shouldn't have any strong attachment or hold on me. It's not fair to anyone, and I think it's best to just let it be. People can be fun to talk to, and I've realized that guys have a lot on their minds about things that are worth hearing too even if nothing romantic ever comes out of it. I've learned a lot from Quey and also from other people Ive flirted or chatted with online. I'm gradually getting more comfortable with it all, and I think if anyone irl ever flirted with me, I wouldn't be or feel so threatened as much anymore. I still need to work on it though to be able to reciprocate it and not think too hard on it. This is why we practice on people who also just want harmless flirting. My feelings will probably ebb away as he stops talking to me or ghosts me or forgets or whatever. I'm sure even if he doesn't do those things, he'll probably make his friend intentions clear or whateverand. It'll be completely fine and expected. I'll just continhe to focus on myself and med school apps rather than romance in any serious way. I'll just use this experience as a way to learn hoe to harmlessly flirt with a nice person.

Gain what subjective experiences are useful to me as I can, try not to get attached to someone who doesn't really care or have an obligation to care, and continue living up my life doing what I want. These are what are important now.

#reflections

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