#there are a handful of black characters but only 4 or so get a speaking role and the episode like before the MLK one was The first time 2 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jester089 · 6 months

Note

Gotta say, massive fan of the work you’ve pumped out, especially for TADC (it came out two weeks or so ago and there’s this much already what?!)

That said, could you write for the gang (separately, I’m sorry l know it’s a lot) who’s s/o resisted abstraction? Like, they were halfway through but turned back through sheer will? *Insert John Wick reference* This has been ping ponging in my head for a while. Thanks for listening! XO

Glitchy pain

I've written for something like this before. And I wasn't sure if you wanted angst or fluff. But since what I wrote before was angst I'm gonna just donna do my ideas on this one. Also to anyone else who feels like requesting don't be afraid to ask for a lot of characters. My max is like 10 and only because Tumblr doesn't like super long posts. I honestly don't think I would have a max if not for that. But really from like 7 pm to 4 am I got a lot of free time and the want to write. So ask to your hearts content. TADC crew x (kind of) abstracted reader

Caine

Caine was floating around when he heard what sounded like a pained and glitchy scream? He quickly floats over to where he heard it from only to find you clutching your head crumpled up into a ball on the floor. He was about to float down and ask you what happened before he noticed the random glitches, black spiky flesh, and randomly colored eye balls all appearing and disappearing in the blink of an eye. So he backed off, a little sad over the fact you were abstracting but life goes on. Until you let out another pained scream, it was almost like the abstraction reacted as the second you screamed it reverted a bit and slowed down. It continues like that for who knows how long. You in a mental and physical battle with abstraction. Caine just staring completely taken back by what he was witnessing. After enough time you vomit a nasty and seemingly living blob of black goo onto the floor and pass out. Caine stares at your motionless body for a few seconds before snapping out of it. He puts the weird goo blob into the cellar and takes you back to your room. He doesn't even know how to react, so he sits there at your bedside waiting for you to wake up. Once you do he is relived to find it's still you, speaking in full sentences and everything. Sure your voice and body have the occasional glitch but overall you're ok. So he leaves you be, mostly. He still needs to study your code for how you did that. But past that and him being a bit more "walking on egg shells" around you, but nothing really changes. And not wanting the others to think your a threat, you and Caine don't tell anyone.

Gangle

Gangle was wandering around looking for you. Her comedy mask broke again and you were the only one who knew how to fix it properly. She could patch it up sure but it never lasted long. Much like Caine she heard you scream out, only difference being she recognized your voice. She quickly changed from casual and aimless stroll to sprint with reason finding you leaned against a wall holding your stomach looking like your about to throw up. She runs up to you and places a hand(?) on each side of your head staring into your eyes. She in a panicked voice asks "Are you ok?! What happened?!" You half shove her away a garbled and messy version of your voice half screaming out that it isn't safe. You quickly regret taking the energy to speak and move as a giant surge of pain jolts up your digital spine forcing you onto your knees. You let out another pained groan/scream as black goo starts oozing out of your mouth. It's only then that Gangle realizes your glitching! She panics and tells you to stay calm while she gets Caine. Gangle sprints off with a mission luckily finding Caine rather quickly. She especially screams at him to help her/follow her. He listens and follows her. When she gets back to where she left you, your passed out. But you aren't glitching anymore. And your not fully abstracted. She carefully walks over to you and sets a gentle hand (ribbon) on your face feeling a whole lot of relief when you half swat at her hand in your sleep. She'll watch you while you sleep making sure you aren't disturbed but when you're awake and she's sure you're ok you are going to be getting a whole lot of cuddles from her. Her comedy mask can wait.

Zooble

Zooble was missing a leg and was hobbling/jumping her way towards your room to ask if you'd seen it. She knocked on your door only to receive no response. She knocks again. Nothing. So she unlocks it with the spare key you gave her. She is stunned by what she sees. Obsessive scribbles covering your walls. Wall paper torn and dirtied. She takes a few cautious steps before finally hearing you say in a horrible sounding voice "P̵̛̣̤̪̑̈́̄͆̚p̴̹͇̆̑̐͠ṕ̷͔̼͙̅̀͐̿͋͜͝P̵̢͚̩̱̮̭̉͜͠l̵͔̟̰̘̼̹̼̯͉͆ḛ̴̣͈̖͛̈́̏̏͌̕͜a̴̢͇̣̮̠͕̮͆̾s̸̡͉̣̺̯͚̾̈́͋̃̑͊͘s̵̼͛̃͛̄̏̊̊͜͠ͅs̷̨̯̬̯͊e̵̢̪̜̗͙̞͈̠͌̔͠s̸̢͔̝̳̞͈̭̲͂͆̇̄͛́́͗ͅͅ ̴̗̻̳̗̜̙̹̘͒̒̑̅̂̎̚͘w̴̰̘͂͊̌̒͘w̸̢̦̑̍̈́͊W̷̨̄̑̌̂̚͝W̵̦̙͇̝̲̪̝̫̜̰̄͑̚w̶̮͐̏̀͊͠h̴̬̤̠̩̰͋͗̾̓̈́̍̅ó̴͍̭͇̯͚̮͔̽̓̔̈́ ̶̥̑͋͒̿̀Ê̶̼͎͇͍̳̯͌͋͐̓̋v̸̢͓̩͗͜͝v̴͇͇̮̻͖̪͕̰̹̫̔̌̎̇̑́ë̷̪̤̫̪͌͂̓̕͘e̵̢̨̱̘̗͙̘̱̱̩̎̾̀v̸͍̄͠ë̶̡̙̠̣̰̠́͜r̸͇̰͖̍͑͌̆̌ ̷̯̼͕͍̭̭̲͙̰̽̈́͝y̷̪͉͓͗̿̀̐̈̃̆õ̷̢̜̮̬͒̈́͒̿̀̽̈́͂̈́ǘ̸̡̟̭̩̠̜̬͙̃ṵ̴̭̮̹̯̺̜̤̈͂̽u̸̬̠͉̺͍̰͉̦͌̋́̃͌̊͘͜ ̵̲͖̩̹̲̊̐͂͝͝a̵̰̩̻̗͕͎̮͈̥̫͂̂̌̆̆̎̑a̴̭͒͐̏̎́́͝à̶̛̘̮͍̟̻͕̰̽̍͛̽̈́̃͛͝r̴͎͚͇̻̞̬͑̂̅̿͋̅̂͊̔ą̴̛̱̱̗̔̈́̈́̔͒̆̌͘͠r̵̺̰̬̹̮̬̘̜̈́̊͗͛̅̌͌͘͜ę̸̛̺̞͚̹̘̱̥̲̒̍̏̔͛̌̚ȇ̴̩.̶̛̖̙̦̝̹̰͔̉͂̆̉̐̾̐͠͝ ̵̘̙͎̼̻̩̬͖͌̉̾̂̄͜J̵͐̏̇̈́̑̃͜͝͝j̶̛̠̬̟̓͗͗͆̆̀̈́̿̂͜j̴̢͍̦͉̯͑̍̓J̷̨̧̢̳̟̠̯͖͖͚̐̈̏̓̈͐̎̐͝j̶̫̞̬͖̯̯̹̺̩͆̾̽́̈́̄ͅJ̵͖̘̫̓u̷̡̧͔̥͇͕͔̞̠̇͛̈́̎͂̌͂͘̕ş̶͕̫̎ṫ̷͈͖̲̩͉͌̅̍̈́́̿ ̷̠͕͕̖̜̻̯̻̖̃̏̀͂͑́l̷̳̣̼̓̈́̊̈́̈̎̀́̋̚͜L̶̡̜̣͔͔̼̠̗̎̇̈́̕Ļ̴̞̟̱̹͓̹̪͖͚̂̐͐̑̂͆̐̓̚͠ḽ̶̢̧̙̺̯͖̰͓͐͗̽̈́̃̔̀̾̕l̴̢̢̳̜̣̦̎́́̔̕̚e̷͔̫͉̘͉̓̓͋͊̀̿̄̕͝ͅã̷̡̢̝̮͔̮̰̱͒͌̈͊̾͂͠ͅͅv̷̗̼͎̠̝̋̓͒͛̂͐͜͜è̶̪̟̲̘̃̓ ̴̺̊̉͑̉̽̅́̕̕m̸̧̦͔̙͍̘̭̲̄͂m̸̧̫͎͌̀̃͜ͅM̴̚��͍͍̫͚̺͚̪̺́̒͋̂͐̿͗͘m̴̛̘̼͔͑̿̏̅͌̊̾̕e̴̩̟͈̙͑̏͐̆̓͆̏̚͠͝ ̵̳̤͉͉͙̬̥̉̓́̀̓̃̀̌̊͜ͅḁ̶̧̗͈͍͍̉͂̀͆͗̾̆́̚͜͝l̴̜͓͈̄͌̓̈́̉͊͊̍͝a̵̲͒̋̂͐́̊̕̚͝â̶̢͕̫̘̮͈̻͕͙̩͑̂ḹ̵̨̮̓̓̊̍̕̚͝o̵͖͔̥̳̊̐̀͠n̵̺̥̲͔͔̿͋̊ë̶̯̤̻́̌̎̎́̾͋̄̄̋.̵̪̑͆̀̎" (Please whoever you are. Just leave me alone.) She cautiously walks over to your bed and peaks over it. Your laying there curled up into a ball torn and broken items surrounding you. Y-your abstracting?! B-but... Zooble doesn't even really register the fact. She's in shock from seeing you like this. (I mean I would be too) You let out an ear piercing scream and claw at your own face with enough force to tear the skin, if you weren't digital at least. The glitching gets much much worse for a few seconds before just, stopping. No rhyme or reason that she can see. But you can bet your a&$ that after like 5 seconds pass and you stop showing signs of abstraction she's going to huddle near your spitting out so many questions. Mainly ones like "ARE YOU OK!?!" and "Your still with me right?! RIGHT!?!"

Kinger

Kinger would more likely then not be there when your first started glitching. And that might make him officially lose it. Your the second person in this hell (Queener) who he felt close too. And he outlived you too. Still you aren't abstracted yet. Maybe their's still a chance! So he sprints off screaming out for Caine in a voice that is loud enough to make you go deaf if you were too close to him. When he finds Caine. And he will find Caine he grabs him by the shoulders and sprints towards where he last saw you. He basically throws Caine at your glitching form and yells at him to fix you! In that second you stop glitching Caine did nothing and Kinger will basically tackle you. He'll pick you up and hold you over his head like a spear and sprint towards your rooms. Once there he will set up the comfiest coziest pillow fort possible then get you all comfy inside. Once he's sure your at least mostly safe and he's at least mostly calmed down he'll ask you about what happened. (Despite him being pretty crazy I really do feel like out of everyone he would be the best at communication in a friend or relationship. I mean he's that crazy and yet he still has manners and knowledge about a lot. Tbh he might become my fav. Idk it's possible.)

Ragatha

You were helping out Ragatha with a surprise she was making for everyone to lighten their moods when you said that you feel kind of sick so you were going to call it a night. She nods thanks you for the help you gave then gives you a quick peck to the lips as a send off. Not to much to her surprise you choose to lay in her bed instead of yours. Just something you do when you don't wanna be alone. She shrugs it off and keeps working actually quite grateful that you decided to not leave, not fully at least. She keeps working but stops when she hears some very concerning noises coming from your sleeping body. She turns around to see you tossing and turning an abnormal amount in your sleep, as well as making a lot of noises that sound like when someone is choking on their own blood. Concerned she carefully walks over to check on you only to recoil when she notices the glitching. She trips over her own foot and falls over onto her back. She quickly but clumsily gets up and gets back to you. She shakes you a bit trying to wake you up, but you don't only concerning her more. She yells calls out for Pomni who pokes her head through Ragatha's door a second later. Ragatha nearly screams at her to go get Caine. Pomni startled by Ragatha's tone turns heel and runs off to look for Caine while Ragatha stays with you. She keeps whispering things like "You're gonna be ok" and "Pomni's getting Caine just hang in there". Always keeping a hand on you not caring when it starts glitching out too. When Pomni returns with Caine, Ragatha full on yells at him to help you. He looks at you, then back at her, then with a apologetic tone says their isn't anything he can do as abstraction is one of those things he doesn't have control over. Ragatha breaks into tears. So she's gonna lose you, she was even there. BUT SHE CAN'T F@%#&$* HELP?! She holds onto you like you're her last tether to reality. And you seem to get better. Your at the very least don't seem to be in pain anymore! So she squeezes you, really f&$%@#* hard happier then should be possible that your improving.

Jax

Jax found you in his room voice glitching you huddled over in pain. At first he thought it was a revenge prank and acted accordingly. "Haha, very funny Y/N. Now get out of my room I need to do something." That is until you vomited up a ton of pitch black goo. Then he started taking it more seriously. He quickly crouches down and wraps an arm around you to try and provide some support. He freaks out and quickly pulls his arm back when you vomit up more goo and starts visibly glitching. He panics and quickly looks around his room locking onto a like 3 day old unopened water bottle. He opens it and hands it to you as well as a thing to squeeze that half yells to just hang in there he'll be right back. He sprints around not even knowing who to get. He sees Ragatha and half tackles her. He shouts directly into her face that you need help and that you in his room. He tosses her in the direction of his room then continues sprinting around not long after finding Caine. He grabs Caine ignoring his protests and runs back to his room where he fins Ragatha sitting next to his bed you tucked in. Your not vomiting anything and you aren't glitching. You're just shivering. He hears you mumble his name and literally kicks Ragatha and Caine out quickly getting to your side. After he feels he wont get hurt he quickly gets into bed holding you close "If you ever do that again I'm going to take back my vow to not tease you." He falls asleep with his chin resting on your head.

Pomni

At first when you started glitching Pomni didn't really know it was abstraction. She's never seen someone abstract after all, only seeing the finished product. But when you keep getting worse and worse she realizes that something is wrong. So she leaves you with a quick kiss then runs off to the communication thing Caine made after the whole Kaufmo incident. She calls him and when he picks up she screams into the phone that your glitching out. When Caine appears next to her she runs back over to where you are not even checking if Caine is following. When she gets back to you, you're still in really bad shape. She turns back to Caine and yells at him to help you. When he tells her that he can't she starts hyperventilating, then she sees him pick you up and the cellar hole open?! OH F&#$ NO! She basically punches Caine then clings to you protectively, ready to throw hands with Caine if she has to. Caine tries and pull her off when she starts glitching but she has the grip of a professional rock climber. So Caine has to keep curing her glitches at they appear. Cause in his mind your beyond help but she isn't. Then you start to improve. No more coughing and the glitching has slowed down! Pomni glares at Caine then turns back to you with a scared and tired smile on her face. Once your ok enough to talk you are going to get an earful. WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL HER YOU WERE FEELING BAG ENOUGH TO ABSTRACT?!?!?! (Sorry this was so long. I got a little carried away. And surprisingly I'm pretty proud of this one. I hope you enjoyed it!)

xoxo, Jester

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #caine x reader #gangle x reader #zooble x reader #kinger x reader #ragatha x reader #jax x reader #pomni x reader #noob author #not beta'd

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lo1k-diamonds · 2 months

Text

How to Choose a Valentine 💜

PAIRING: idol!Jungkook x You (You can also read it on AO3)

SUMMARY: Who knew the best company for Valentine's Day would be a lovely Doberman? And who knew he'd get you a Valentine? Well, sort of.

WORD COUNT: 4.3k

GENRE: fluff and light angst

RATING: Teen (for cussing and drinking)

WARNINGS: drinking, kissing and making out while drunk (consensual), hangover, lapses of memory, misunderstandings, JK handles everything well, Bam is the center of this story, the cutest baby, and maybe a cupid, should fill your 💜 with fluff but wdik

A.N. I wasn't even supposed to write this. This is what happens when I wake up at 4 AM and can't sleep. Then I think, Hmm, I read lots of lovely fics yesterday about Valentine's Day. What would I do if I wrote one? X hours later, here we are. I just roll with it at this point, it's almost a way to deal with writer's block 😅 Enjoy 💜

You snorted at the reel playing on your phone while your hand petted gently between the black Doberman’s ears. One girl smashed the phone camera while repeating ‘Girls don’t want flowers for Valentine’s Day’, while another immediately shyly said that yes, she’d like flowers. You scrolled; another of a guy guiding his significant other over a trail of petals; you scrolled, another of a guy explaining how he asked a girl to become his Valentine. Another, with the type of girls on Valentine’s Day and you smirked. Which one were you? Definitely not the spoiled girlfriend, you were single. Not heartbroken, you hadn’t dated for a while, or a heartbreaker. You chuckled; the only guy in your life at the moment was that sweet Doberman sleeping on your lap and you weren’t about to break his darling heart.

The next options were single and fine with it, anti-Valentine’s Day, and Galentine’s Girl. You supposed you were fine with it but had hoped not to spend it alone, hence why you were at your best friend’s apartment. What you thought could be a day of eating and having fun together turned into dog-sitting because she needed that favor. Something along the lines of the usual sitter being ill and her needing to find someone to do it, and you were available.

You could think of more depressing ways of spending your day. You put your phone down and petted the short fur between the dog’s closed eyes, knowing he was utterly relaxed under your touch. He was the cutest thing and you had a blast walking and playing with him all day. You checked his training and he was responsive, though testy of the limits, and you made sure he understood that he had to listen to you. During your second walk, he behaved so well and was rewarded so much that you thought he wouldn’t have an appetite for dinner, but he surprised you. And now he was sleeping soundly and you didn’t want to get up, but it was time for your own dinner. Maybe you could cook something up for you and—

Your phone buzzed and you checked it; speaking of the devil.

[It’s taking longer than expected so I’ll eat here. Treat yourself sorry see you soon! 💜]

You sighed. In the end, you were going to spend it with that cutie as your Valentine. You stretched your arms and shoulders, pressing your fingers to your neck before gaining the courage to slide under the Doberman. He wasn’t pleased and adjusted his head to get back on your thigh.

“No, Bamie. I gotta eat something, come on.”

You slid again and turned on the TV as background noise before getting to the kitchen and checking your best friend’s fridge. You decided to eat a bit of everything that you could find and got set to eat on the sofa in front of the TV. Not even five minutes in, you became sort of annoyed — stupid Valentine’s Day ads. You told Bam firmly not to even think about snatching your food before you focused on streaming something instead. A corny and sweet romcom should be fun.

And you had dinner as you laughed and cried with it until a scene came up where the main character cried her sorrows over a bottle of soju and you thought, Why not? You had nothing planned the next day, at least you could have a drink.

You started with a single soju bottle, but as the episodes played and the night passed, you didn’t stop. Eventually, there were empty bottles of beer and soju and you were feeling dizzy, despite being sat down on the couch. Your last reasonable thought was to turn off the TV, the only source of light in the room, before holding on to Bam as if he were a pillow and falling asleep.

It was the sound of bottles clicking that disturbed your sleep, and your instinct was to wrap your arms closer around the fluffy dog, “Bam.”

He was wiggling his tail like crazy, and in your haze, you connected that to the bottles falling over. Not to the extra dip on the other side of the chaise longue.

Perhaps it was the fact that you heard your best friend’s voice in the distance that relaxed you, not quite registering that it disappeared after the front door closed. It was only when a different scent hit your nose that you started connecting the pieces: Bam was squeezed between you and someone else, their hand touched your arm ever so slightly while they petted him, and that musky scent was from a man.

You opened your eyes, confused by your conclusions, but not at the top of your game — a quick nap was not enough to make you sober.

“Who are you?”

Bam’s tail kept wiggling as he seemed busy facing opposite from you, looking at the person who answered you, “Who are you?”

He sounded sleepy and you couldn’t see him properly. The city lights from the window were enough but you were still too hazy.

“I asked first,” you voiced, rubbing your eyes. He didn’t seem willing to respond quickly enough, but you could feel him still petting Bam, so you sulked. You wrapped your arms around the pet harder, “Bamie is mine!”

Instantly, a new set of arms did the same and tried to steal him away, “No, he’s not! I’m his dad!”

“And I’m his mom!” The man scoffed and you raised your chin proudly. “Don’t believe me? Look.”

You let go of Bam and scanned around, seeing where you could put your feet safely in between the bottles. Then you got up and walked a bit unsteadily across the living room, standing next to the window. You could see the shape of the man all in black, including his hair, looking at you from his comfortable position with the sweet Bam happily smelling around.

He could see your expression, your baggy tee shirt falling over you and covered with cartoons, but he only cared about Bam staying in his arms. Because of course, he would.

“Bam!”

He gasped when Bam jumped from his embrace to get to you, frantically wiggling his whole body before lying on his back over your feet. He gaped as his Doberman showed his belly, happily licking your face and squirming under your belly rubs.

“Such a good boy,” you cooed, grinning from ear to ear.

Then you straightened up and snapped your fingers and Bam got up too, easily following you back on the couch and splaying himself belly up in between you and the man.

“There you go,” you murmured, scratching his belly and up his chest much to Bam’s delight.

It was when Bam squirmed that his snout ended up under the man’s chin and you saw him clearly for the first time. Then he spoke and you smiled.

You woke up with a groan, drool all over the pillow, and a headache to make you want to run for the hills. But then you sat up, confusion still scrambling your brain as you eyed the bedroom.

“Bam?”

You waited but the sound of paws scratching the floor didn't grace your ears, so you got up from bed and searched for him. You looked everywhere, calling for him every few seconds, but he didn’t come out and you couldn’t seem to find him. In fact, there was no one else at home but you, which made you befuddled — where was your best friend?

Your hangover was deadly, it was trying to pull you down with a headache the size of the world. And so you beelined to the bathroom and stripped hastily to get your head under the water and try to wake up gently.

But there was no gentleness to be found when suddenly you remember something — there was a man. Yes, but— You— kissed?

Suddenly, you were flooded with the memories of you kissing, his gentle hand cupping your jaw, your trembling breath when your tongues touched. The foreign thing that ended up being a lip ring that you felt with your tongue. The way the kiss deepened, and your legs got tangled even beyond sweet Bam lying in between you.

You were hyperventilating, “What?!”

You did what?!

Did you kiss a random man? On your best friend’s couch in the middle of the night? Or did you hallucinate him because of the alcohol?

Suddenly, it came to you — he tasted of beer, and you told him as much.

You felt him smile against your lips, “And you taste of strawberry soju.”

You remembered chuckling before kissing him again, burying your fingers into slightly overgrown strands of hair that curled around your hand.

You rubbed your face under the water; you kissed him. You were both drunk, and you couldn’t remember everything, but you pressed your lips to—

You stopped breathing.

You were feeling his shoulders and pulling him close when Bam started licking both your faces, which made you both break away and laugh.

“I have to pee,” you had said, getting up.

Before you could be mortified about having said that to a random guy, you recognized that after you went to the bathroom, you forgot about getting back to the couch. Instead, you went to bed on autopilot and fell asleep. Because you were that drunk.

Well, thankfully. Otherwise, what could have ended up happening? You were not in your right mind, you could barely remember his face aside from his eyes and lip ring. You were crazy, nuts, and shouldn’t drink that much again.

You got out of the shower and got dressed quickly with more lenient thoughts. Since only kissing happened, it was okay. No harm no foul.

Your stomach was adding to the problem, but you still decided to take headache medicine before your phone buzzed and you grabbed it.

[Meet me at work and have breakfast with me?]

You agreed and got your stuff to go to her. The subway trip was twenty minutes but it was alright at that hour. The HYBE building was in a very busy area, so to already have a direct line there was a blessing.

You gave your name at the reception to get a visitor pass and went to the floor she indicated, smiling when you saw it was a cafeteria with breakfast all around.

She met you at the door and walked you through it before sitting down and watching you eat your broth carefully.

“Lots of people need caring for this morning. Funny what Valentine’s Day does to some people,” she was amused, though her expression screamed exhaustion. “If they’re in couple they drink together, if they’re single they drink alone. There’s no escape, is there?”

You were looking down apologetically until you could talk, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me. I… raided your fridge.”

She sighed, “I know, I saw the bottles on the floor. Hence why you’re here, to have a power breakfast.”

“What happened yesterday? Why didn’t you come home?”

Your best friend heaved a deep breath, her spirit hanging on by a thread, “My artist went to a friend's dinner last night and got drunk. I got his driver to get him home but they had an accident,” she sighed. Your eyes widened in alarm, but she raised her hand swiftly, “They’re both alright. This all to say that after my meeting got lost into late hours, instead of going home, I had to go and manage that situation.”

“That sucks…” You thought back to the previous night, unsure of how to introduce the topic.

“By the way, thank you for taking care of Bam. My artist and I really appreciated it—”

She was interrupted when a spot of black dashed for you, barking the instant you took a second to acknowledge his presence. You instantly smiled despite the horrid headache the noise was making and reached to pet him.

“No, Bam! No eating!”

“It’s not the food,” your best friend pointed out jokingly, dismissing the manager nearby who tried to admonish the pet.

You were happy to give him all the cuddles that were making him go crazy and whiny; you were happy to see him again too. It instantly pulled memories from the previous night into your mind and you wondered again how to bring it up with your best friend when a voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Bam.”

Bam was licking your hand happily, yet instantly darted away at the call, and you knew before you looked up. It was him. You recognized the longer hair you had gripped, the lip ring, and the eyes. The sweet yet searing eyes.

He got near your table and bowed to you both before starting a light talk with your best friend about the schedule for the day.

And you blinked, wondering why his eyes set on your best friend’s face, or rather why the whole situation felt like a gut punch. He must have been the artist your best friend was referring to, the one she managed. You wouldn’t know, she was secretive about who it was. But the way he was ignoring you couldn’t be mistaken. He didn’t acknowledge you more than that bow, but why would he? You knew who he was.

The moment your lips grazed in a slow kiss while his hand gently supported your jaw came to mind and you blinked in astonishment. You couldn't believe it happened. Even as you remembered opening your eyes the moment he pulled away a few inches to breathe and looked straight into your eyes. It was impossible. Even if you were both drunk, how—

“Excuse me.” The three of you turned to the lady in uniform. “No pets are allowed in the cafeteria,” she bowed respectfully.

It was easy for you to get up, “I’ll take Bam to the rooftop garden.”

You grabbed his leash from the man’s hand without touching him and he let it go, a bit startled. Not that you noticed; you stepped away and called for Bam, who followed you swiftly.

Jungkook stayed behind, eyes still on you leaving with his dog until you were out of sight.

“She’ll take good care of him.”

He turned back to his manager and nodded, “I know.”

His manager was ready to use every argument she had to convince him, so she chuckled, “Funny how yesterday you were borderline going nuts over a stranger taking care of him and now you’re so relaxed.”

He nodded and looked back at where you disappeared with his Bam. You were not a stranger.

“What’s that look?” She asked, eyebrows furrowing ever so lightly.

He pressed his lips and nibbled a bit on his lip ring, but then looked back at her, “When you left me at your place… something happened.”

A mix of fear and ‘oh no’ crossed his manager's face and he sat across from her where you had sat before, ignoring your tray and half-eaten food.

“We were both drunk,” he started, expecting her not to believe him, but she just nodded. “And Bam loves her. We just—” He filled his lungs with air, pushing it back out anxiously as his tattooed hand ran across his hair, “We joked around that I was Bam’s dad and she was his mom. Then, that we were both alone, nowhere close to having a Valentine, and that maybe Bam was our cupid. Instead of meeting and making a baby, the baby— made us—” He became crimson and hid his eyes for a second, then he faced her again, “We were drunk!”

“You said that,” she deadpanned firmly. She was his manager, she needed to know things in black and white. He knew that.

“So we joked. Maybe we should get together, and we kissed.”

Her eyes doubled in size, “Oh no, you didn’t!”

“We just kissed!”

Her features hardened, “Tell me right now. Tell me the truth.”

“It’s the truth! I swear, we kissed— for a while—” His ears were becoming red, “And then she went to the bathroom and I fell asleep.” His manager’s expression had not changed a millimeter, and his eyes became pleading. “You have to believe me. You woke me up and I was alone with Bam.”

“That’s true,” she acknowledged, finally heaving a breath. “Shit, this is my fault. Leave two drunk people alone, and see what happens.”

He frowned, “I don’t just go around kissing people, even when I’m drunk.”

She faced him, “That is also true.” It seemed clear to her, so he relaxed. “So what happened? Why did you kiss her?”

He blinked with wide eyes, startled by the question. “I… I don’t know.”

He looked down, containing the urge to look back at where you had left with his pet. He didn’t even know your name, he knew nothing except that Bam loved you and you tasted sweet.

His manager waited for a proper response, for any additional information. But when none came, she knew what she had to do. She sighed, “Well. I’ll have to contact our lawyers and draft an NDA. She’s my best friend”, she confessed, rubbing her eyes for a second. “Shit,” was all she expressed before getting up and rushing out.

Jungkook pressed his lips and let her leave. He was confused about the situation, about his actions. He knew so little… Why did he think it was enough?

He put away the trays you and his manager had used while he pondered this. In a way, Bam’s heart meant everything to him. The way Jungkook loved him was unexplainable, he was the only soul in the world he could ever love in such a way. His innocence and instinct were enough, and he listened to you like he only ever listened to Jungkook himself. That shouldn’t have been enough, but it was.

And he was drunk, he sighed, leaving the room. It was his fault, he knew that. He shouldn’t kiss people irresponsibly like that, and now his manager was in a tough spot.

He decided to head for the rooftop and sort this out with you. He didn’t know what to say, but he thought maybe it didn’t have to be a big deal. You two just did it and it was… freeing. There were no inhibitions or second thoughts. It was playful and innocent, and then your lips touched. He didn’t know it would feel like that, he hadn’t thought it through. But it felt so good. It created shivers, made him hot, curious, awake, alive. He had no questions, no doubts, it was like jumping out of an airplane and freefalling. It was like the wind was guiding him to fit together with you, there was nothing in him telling him to fight it.

He got to the rooftop and immediately saw you across the garden sitting on a bench with his manager, and your best friend, next to you. Bam saw him too and raised his head and ears, but he was busy grabbing a stick that had just fallen on the floor and bringing it back to you. Jungkook could have expected him to drop everything to greet him, but Bam didn’t.

His manager was explaining something to you and your eyes were glued to the floor, expression closed except for the line between your eyebrows. Only when Bam brought you back the stick and you threw it again, did you look up. Jungkook was walking closer yet slowly, not meaning to intrude, and you had thrown the stick almost right into his path. That was why Bam happily gave it to him instead, and he crouched to pet his baby while his eyes stayed on you.

Your eyes turned away when you said something. He couldn’t hear it from there, but he knew the words out of your mouth were cold. He recognized his manager trying to have you reconsider or change your mind, but your eyebrows drew closer as you bit something back and just got up and away.

You didn’t look at him as you walked in his direction towards the exit. You planned to pass by him without a word, a mix of emotions inside you that you preferred not to address. And yet Bam was what forced you to change your mind when he lit up at your presence. He looked for a pet from your hand and you immediately halted, unable to punish that sweet pup because of his dad.

Still, the words slipped the seam of your lips somewhat bitterly, “Are you a baby?”

“What?” He blinked, eyes wide as he straightened up.

“You kiss someone and your first instinct is to threaten them with NDAs?” You were frowning with a hint of contempt, but your eyes were glistening. You continued before he could say anything, “I won’t sign it. I don’t care what any of you think, this isn’t normal. You regret it? Fine, but then act like a fucking adult.”

He was at a loss for words and movement behind you had him glancing, and so you turned. Your best friend had a serious expression on her, something you imagined was her work persona. Well, too bad you had no sympathy for it.

“No,” you raised a hand before she could say something. “You’re doing your job, and I’m standing up for my principles. I’ll go to your place and get my stuff.”

You passed by him at a hastened pace and the second he turned to say, “Wait!”, the heavy glass door was already closing behind you, muffling every trace of a sound.

He turned to his manager then, seeing the tiredness, sadness, and frustration all over her face as she heaved a deep sigh and hid the tears in her eyes.

His lips twitched with a question, but she spoke instead, “She thinks I’m choosing my job over her.”

“But you’re not,” he instantly said, confused. “This isn’t necessary.”

She sighed, “I’ll deal with this, ok? Get to your shoot.”

She also passed by him quickly inside and Jungkook looked at Bam, who was lying on the floor chewing on the stick with a hard focus. Why were they so eager to get anything done without a proper conversation?

He took Bam with him across HYBE and got inside the car with other managers and assistants. They were waiting for him to continue his schedule, chatting about Bam. It would be difficult to have him on the set, but they’d contact a sitter on the way—

“Take me to Manager Kim’s place.”

“What?” His manager frowned, “Now?”

“Yes, now. To drop off Bam,” he offered, though he knew it was a lie. His manager agreed though because he knew Bam had stayed there the previous day, and being late to the shoot was fixed with a simple call giving them a warning and an apology.

Jungkook left the car first, saying that he’d go and come back quickly, and the team agreed, to his relief. He was upstairs in a beat in front of the right door, yet before he could ring the doorbell, the door opened in front of him and something crashed into his chest. His heart jumped and his hands darted to support your arms as you recoiled back, and then you looked up at him. Such beautiful big and expressive eyes, and he knew then he would have wanted to kiss you anyway.

You broke away from his arms and moved to go around him. He didn’t miss your frown, but he didn’t hesitate, “Can we talk?”

“I’m not going to sign it,” you insisted as you turned to him, adjusting your backpack over your shoulder. “But you don’t need to worry, that doesn’t mean I’ll talk about it. I’m not like that.”

He nodded once, “Okay. But that’s not what I want to talk about.”

You paused, “Oh.”

Your features smoothed in confusion and he was happy he caught your attention, “Can we go inside?”

You shrugged but walked back inside. You petted Bam gently between his ears then put your backpack down on the floor. By then, Jungkook had released Bam’s leash and closed the door. The sweet baby darted to the water bowl and your lips curved before his dad drew your attention away.

“I don’t regret it,” he said, and your eyebrows jumped. “You keep saying that, but I don’t. And I didn’t ask Manager Kim to do this either, I suppose it’s standard procedure or something. I wouldn’t know. But she’s just doing her best because she feels responsible.”

You were skeptical, “You wouldn’t know?”

“No.”

You found that hard to believe, but you didn’t insist. It had nothing to do with you. “Why would she feel responsible?”

“Because she’s in charge of me, I guess. Managers tend to feel like that even when we are, in fact, not babies.”

Your lips twitched at his choice of words.

“So don’t get mad at her. After this, I’m going to tell her to stop it. I don’t want this NDA thing, and neither do you. It’s not necessary,” he sighed. He had told his manager that before, but maybe if he insisted, she’d get it.

You nodded.

“And thank you for looking after Bam,” he finished with a smile. The Doberman had jumped on the couch a bit carelessly, but he was calm. “He’s usually nervous around strangers, but he loves you. You might really be his Mom for all he cares,” he smirked, watching as you stepped to the side to pet Bam. “And I wouldn’t… separate him from a person he loves. If you’d like to see him again.”

Your cheeks instantly caught fire as you looked at him. He held your gaze calmly, the only hint of nervousness in his fingers fidgeting. You didn’t think you were misunderstanding him, then.

“I can make time.”

He smiled, “Good.”

528 notes · View notes

munson-blurbs · 11 months

Text

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

Summary: It's finally time for your coffee date with Eddie, leading the two of you to fall even harder for each other.

Warnings: brief mention of drug dealing, Reader's grandma has dementia, character death

WC: 6.5k

Chapter 9/20

Divider credit to @saradika

The lime green numbers of the microwave clock reads 11:57, which means that Eddie will be here any minute. You drag your palms on the thighs of your boot-cut jeans, triple-checking that your perspiration hasn’t left a visible stain on the light-wash fabric.

“Okay, her lunch is in the fridge. And the number of the coffee shop is on the counter,” you tell Jess, pointing to the scrap of notebook paper in front of her. “If you need something, just call, and I’ll come home.”

Jess waves away your concern with a kind smile. She’d been pleading with you to get out there and date for ages now, and she was just glad you’d finally taken her advice. Though, you note wryly, she would not be happy if she knew who that date was.

“We’ll be fine,” she reassures you, bracing a hand on your shoulder. “If anything, we’ll need to check on you. Who is this mystery date, anyway?”

“Just a guy,” you say, trying to remain light and casual while simultaneously fighting down the barrage of nerves in your stomach.

Jess takes a step back, wrinkling her nose and crossing her arms over her chest. “Oh, God, it’s not one of those creeps from a dating hotline, is it? Because I’ve never heard of one of those that didn’t end up on 48 Hours.”

“No, no, don’t worry,” you shake your head, spotting a piece of lint on your cable knit sweater and plucking it off carefully. You flick it off of your finger, silently berating yourself when you remember that you’ll have to vacuum it later. “It’s a guy from around here.”

Your friend wipes imaginary sweat from her brow as the buzzer rings. You race to the intercom to let him in before he can say anything, but your reflexes are too slow.

“Hey, it’s me.” The sound of his voice has your body pulsing, an eager grin tugging at your lips despite your intentions to keep calm. His slight rasp has you craving the sting of tobacco just to flatten your nerves.

You clear your throat before speaking. “Okay, I’ll be right down.” Grabbing your jacket from where you’ve haphazardly thrown it over the back of the couch, you’ve almost made it to the door, when—

“No. No.” You cringe at the way Jess’s words bite into your excitement. “Please tell me that your date is not Eddie Munson.” You can only offer her a sheepish grin, and she rolls her eyes. “Seriously?!”

You huff out a sigh, both impatient to go on the date and flustered at being caught. “Look, he’s changed. A lot.”

“Oh, you mean he stopped calling you a bitch and making shitty comments about your grandma?” Jess snorts. “How chivalrous.”

There’s no time to explain everything that’s happened, so you simply say, “I’ll be back in two hours,” before closing the door behind you, making sure that it latches before you start down the hallway.

Eddie is waiting in the tiny lobby. He’s leaned up against the double doors, tapping one Reebok-clad foot and examining his fingernails anxiously. A memory crashes over you; one where his nails are painted jet black, though there hasn’t been any polish on them in some time.

He smiles as soon as he spots you, standing up straighter and walking to meet you before you can get to the door. “Hey,” he says softly, letting his hand brush yours as he kisses your cheek.

“Hey, yourself.” You want to kiss him back, but not on his cheek. Your lips yearn to crash against his once more; this time, anchored in belonging rather than lust. Instead, you manage a compliment. “You clean up nice.”

It’s the truth. His gray jeans are free of any holes, sometimes intentional but often the result of overwearing. The sleeves of his red sweater are pushed up slightly, exposing the litany of tattoos on his arms, and it occurs to you that you want to know each of their origins.

“Can’t lie, Harris helped pick out my clothes today,” he admits. “He caught me trying to figure out what to wear and we finally agreed on this.” He sweeps a hand down his side to emphasize his point.

“Was the ponytail his idea, too?” His curls are pulled back and rest at the nape of his neck.

Eddie shakes his head with a laugh as his cheeks tinge pink. “Nah, that was all me.” He pauses, gaze briefly landing on your mouth before his eyes are drawn back to yours. “You’re…you’re beautiful.”

You try to shrug off the compliment, still caught off-guard by his kindness. You wonder when—or if—that unease will dissipate. “I think you’re just used to seeing me with Play-Doh stuck to my shirt,” you tease, but he doesn’t break his trance.

“You’re always beautiful.” The sincerity of his statement clings to a silence that should be awkward, but is somehow comforting. After a few seconds, he clears his throat, lifting the fog of budding romance that clouds the lobby. “Let’s go get some coffee, yeah?”

Eddie takes your hand in his when you nod, leading you to his car and opening the passenger door for you. He sweeps his hand in the direction of the seat, and you giggle.

“Such a gentleman.”

He doesn’t divulge that Wayne reminded him to open doors for you when he’d come over to the apartment for dinner last night, or that the older man had slipped him a crumpled ten dollar bill and whispered, “get her something to eat, too,” punctuating his statement with a wink.

His left leg bounces as he starts the engine and he grates his teeth over his lower lip. He doesn’t even realize that he’s doing either of these things until you timidly rest a hand on his right knee and ask, “You okay?”

“Mhm,” he mumbles, gliding the gear shift from ‘park’ to ‘reverse’ as he backs out of his spot. “Just, uh, been a long time since I’ve gone on a date.” And never with someone so goddamn perfect, he wants to add, but he’s stopped by the fear of coming on too strong.

You graze your thumb over the gray denim and smile at him. “Well, you’re doing great so far.”

“Yeah?” Eddie grins at your reassurance, the soft dimples at the corners of his mouth deepening.

“Yeah.”

He turns on the radio with a slight snap of his wrist, shifting the skull ring that wraps around his middle finger. A metal song comes on that you don’t recognize, drumbeats thumping through the old speakers. Eddie winces, nudging the volume down so he can hear himself speak over the impending guitar solo. “You can change it to something you like better.”

“Nah, this is fine,” you shake your head. “Kinda warming up to heavier music since someone gave me a Guns ‘N Roses tape.”

Eddie’s eyebrows brush the edge of his tousled bangs in surprise. “You really listen to it?”

“All the time,” you confirm truthfully. It’s quickly become one of your favorites; each time you play it, you’re reminded of Harris dressed as a miniature Axl Rose, drawing a picture of you and Eddie holding hands. Not to mention the way that Eddie adoringly gazed at you while you calmed his son down, quickly throwing together an art project and saving the day.

“How’s Grandma?” he asks now, pressing on the brake as he approaches a stop sign.

“Same as always. Her aid had to take her to the hospital the other day because she fell, and she’s been losing more language.” You try to play it off like it doesn’t bother you, but your heart pangs as you speak. When she was initially diagnosed, you’d known that she’d forget who people were, but you hadn’t realized that she would eventually forget how to talk. “Good news is, she hasn’t lost her appetite for Oreos. I have to keep the package you brought over hidden away so she doesn’t eat them all.”

Eddie laughs at this. “Told you; there’s nothing Oreos can’t fix.” He pulls into the cafe parking lot and snags the first available spot he sees. “I really am sorry that you have to see that, though. It can’t be easy.”

You keep your eyes trained on the dashboard, knowing that you’ll tear up if you catch a glance of his sympathetic expression. “‘S just par for the course with dementia, I guess.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything else–he isn’t sure what to say–as he kills the engine. He clicks off his seatbelt to scramble to your door, but it gets snagged in the crook of his elbow, yanking him back.

“Jesus, shit,” he grumbles, untangling himself from the trap he’d inadvertently created. “Don’t move; I’m not done being a gentleman.”

You put your hands up in surrender, watching as he walks to your side and opens the door. “Wow, that was such a surprising gesture,” you mock him, letting out a breathless scoff when he flips you the bird. “Giving me the middle finger kinda negates the whole ‘gentleman’ thing, dontcha think?”

Eddie pretends to consider this, crossing his arms over his chest while shifting his weight to one leg, bringing his hand to his freshly-shaved chin. “Mm, nope.” He helps you out of the seat, still not letting go of your hand once you’re standing next to his car. He holds it tighter, so you can feel every etch of the lifelines across his palm.

The mouth-watering scent of warm pastries and freshly brewed coffee swirls throughout the cafe, wafting to your nose as soon as you open the door. Or, more precisely, as soon as Eddie opens the door for you. You assume he’ll slip his fingers back through yours after you’re both inside, but he hesitates before letting his palm hover on the small of your back. You can barely feel the pads of his fingertips through your thick sweater, but as soon as you give him a smile, he allows himself to hold you a bit closer.

A chipper, twenty-something barista whose name tag reads Stephanie greets you as you approach the counter. “Hi! What can I get you folks?”

Eddie nudges you to place your order, which you give with a polite smile. “Just a coffee with room for milk,” you tell her.

You turn to Eddie so he can give his order, but he says softly, “Get something to eat, too.” He points to the display of baked goods before you, and you peer into the case. The prices are listed next to each item, and you furrow your brow at the $2 brownie.

“Oh, s’okay,” you murmur, trying to play it off. The last thing you need is for Eddie to think you’re pitying him, which, okay, maybe you are. He just doesn’t have to know that. “You can get something, though.”

He shakes his head with a grin. “I’m not falling for that trick, Sweetheart.” It’s odd to hear the nickname without the prefix Ms. in front of it, or without a sneer in his voice. It’s kind, comforting, dare you even venture…a term of endearment? “You tell me you don’t want anything, and then you end up eating half of what I pick. Nope, you’re getting your own.”

“Fine, fine,” you roll your eyes playfully, eventually settling on a blueberry muffin. Eddie’s coffee order is the same as yours, but he gets a chocolate chunk cookie with his. He digs into his back pocket for his wallet, worn and frayed around the edges, and pulls out a ten-dollar bill, leaving a remaining dollar in the colorful jar marked ‘Tips’.

You grab the plated pastries and Eddie shuffles behind with the coffee mugs, gently placing them on the counter next to the silver thermoses and baskets of sugar packets. You pour a bit of milk into yours, watching in amusement as Eddie dumps some of the coffee into the trashcan, filling the mug with half & half and tearing open three Domino packets.

“You want some coffee with that sugar bomb?” you gently tease, and he flicks your shoulder with a dramatic pout on his lips.

“I’d rather this than whatever bitter concoction you’re drinking,” he retorts, taking an exaggerated sip from his mug and punctuating it with an aaaahhh.

You roll your eyes. “You really should be grateful that I like bitter things. If I didn’t, then I wouldn’t like you.” Your response earns you another flick to the shoulder before Eddie brings the drinks to a table tucked away in the corner.

You set the cookie in front of him and the muffin at your spot across from him, pulling a crumb from the side and popping it in your mouth. The sweetness of the pastry with the slightly sour berry is heaven on your tongue.

“‘S good?” Eddie asks, smiling brightly when you nod your head. “Wanna try a bite of mine?” He breaks off a piece, and a smattering of crumbs fall to the table. You expect him to place the piece in your hand; instead, he leans over and brings it to your lips. His fingertips brush against them, parting them ever-so-slightly. An electric buzz hums down your spine, and you wonder if he feels it, too.

You’re careful not to let your tongue graze his fingers as you take the chocolate-flecked dessert into your mouth. Eddie, however, is in no rush. He lingers, slowly moving the rough pads of his fingers across your soft lips. In doing so, he wipes away rogue remnants of the cookie he just fed you, though you strongly doubt that that was his intention.

“Here, try mine.” You pinch off a piece of the muffin, a bit bigger than the piece you took for yourself, and bring it to him. His lips close around the very tips of your thumb and forefinger where you’re holding the bite of muffin. You feel the brief flicker of his tongue, gone before you can even process it, taking the muffin piece with it.

“Not bad,” Eddie says with a grin. “I don’t usually like fruit in my dessert, but I’d make an exception for that. Could definitely use some more chocolate, though.” As if to illustrate his sentiment, he takes a comically large bite of his cookie.

“One of these days, I’ll get you to eat a vegetable.” You mean it as a joke, a ribbing towards his poor eating habits, but it implies that you’ll stick around. That you care about him. You’re unclear about how he interpreted your statement, so you quickly change the subject before he can think about it. “I do have a question for you. Completely unrelated to the lack of nutrients in your diet.”

Eddie ignores the teasing jab and takes another bite of cookie. “Shoot.”

“The, uh, lock-picking kit,” you start, biting the inside of your cheek to keep your nerves calm. “Do you just keep them laying around?” You hate the idea of him using it to commit break-ins. If that was the truth, would he even admit it to you?

But Eddie just laughs, sipping his barely-coffee with a knowing smirk. “When Harris was about two, Wayne was watching him. He left for a second to grab the mail and the little stinker locked him out.”

“Out of the trailer?!” you ask incredulously, jaw dropping in shock.

“Out of the trailer,” Eddie confirms, shaking his head as though he still can’t believe it himself. “So, yeah. Ever since that happened, I’ve kept a lock-picking kit in my car.” He takes a deep breath, looking into your eyes with a gaze that makes your heart skip a beat. He drums his fingertips on the table as he says, “Tell me about you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you,” Eddie accentuates his request with a quick poke of your hand before returning his grip to the mug handle. “Like, how did you end up being the one schlepping out to Hawkins to take care of Grandma?”

You shrug and bring the hot cup to your lips, letting the steam tickle your nose before you drink. “She and I were always really close, and teaching is a job that’s everywhere. It was just easier for me to pick up and move, I guess.”

Eddie pauses, nodding as he considers his next question. He rubs his palm back and forth on the side of his mug; there’s an air of nervousness around him. “Tell me about her. Grandma, I mean. Like, how she was before she got sick.”

“Where do I start?” It’s strange, you think, the way memories work. Sometimes it seems like the more Grandma forgets, the more you remember. You’ll just be lesson planning, or hurriedly making photocopies at work, or heating up leftovers in the microwave, and a memory will crash over you. Suddenly, you’re plucked from reality and transported to Benny’s Diner where you and she used to split a giant stack of pancakes. Or to the shoe store where she’d buy you a new pair of sneakers every August before the start of the new school year. “She just loved taking care of people. Cooking for them or cheering them up. She wasn’t the type of person to tell you to stop crying when you’d get upset, y’know? She’d sit there with you, rub your back, and let you get all the tears out.” You muster a wistful smile in a paltry attempt to hide the shame blooming in your chest. “It’s all so fucked, the way I talk about her like she’s gone when she’s still here.”

“No.” Eddie’s voice is soft yet adamant. “I don’t think it’s fucked at all. Because, I dunno, it’s like she’s not here, in a way. Physically, yeah; but almost like…” He stops himself to avoid speaking out of turn and making a fool of himself.

“Like she’s a shell of who she used to be,” you finish for him, and relief floods his body when you understand the point he’s trying to make.

He nods. “Exactly.” He smooths his ponytail reflexively. “I think you’re a lot like her. How she was, anyway. The way you’re always looking out for people, like…let’s say…a bitter wannabe rockstar and his adorable yet mischievous son?”

“That’s the best compliment I’ve gotten in a long time.” It’s all you want, really–to spread joy and kindness to others, filling in gaps that have remained empty for so long that they seemingly go unnoticed. “Maybe ever, actually.”

Good, Eddie wants to say. He wants to whisper sweet nothings into your ear, each one kinder than the last, until you’re utterly flustered. Instead, he abruptly changes the subject and asks, “What made you wanna be a teacher?”

This is a much easier question for you to answer. “I just love seeing kids learn,” you beam. “Being able to do things they couldn’t do before; things they never thought they’d be able to do.”

He returns your smile easily; something about hearing you speak about your profession with such gratification has him buzzing.“Speaking of which,” he says, sneaking a mouthful of cookie between words, “I took Harris to the supermarket yesterday. And when we passed by the seafood section, he points to a sign, sounds out cuh-ahh-d, and goes, ‘that says cod!’”

“That’s incredible! Look at our little reader go!” You could jump out of your seat with excitement, held back only by the desire to not go overboard in your display of enthusiasm.

Eddie nods in agreement. “I was so proud, I damn near bought all of the candy in the store.” He cocks his head, amusement tugging the corners of his lips upwards. “Any idea where he learned how to read like that?”

“Not a clue.” You try to force a deadpan expression to reinforce the sarcasm in your remark, but your happiness betrays you in the form of a giggle. You clap a hand over your mouth, but he reaches out to pull it down, keeping your fingers clasped with his.

He strokes his thumb over your knuckles, watching the digit sweep back and forth for a moment. “You really are pretty, y’know.” The admission feels like a weight has been both removed from and added to his shoulders. Now you know how he feels, but now you know how he feels.

You, meanwhile, are far less fixated on his vulnerability and focus instead on his phrasing. The opportunity has presented itself so perfectly, and you have to seize it.

“Like a princess?” Your eyes gleam with playfulness.

“Wha–oh, Christ.” Eddie’s features shift from confusion to embarrassment over the span of a second. “What did that kid tell you?”

“Not a lot,” you say nonchalantly, taking an innocent swig of coffee. It’s cooled down considerably, but you’ve never been one to let a drop of caffeine go to waste. “Just that you think I’m ‘pretty like a princess.’”

Eddie uses his free hand to rub his eyes, swiping his thumb and forefinger across the lids. “What a little snitch.”

“It’s true, then?” You perch your chin in your hand, batting your eyelashes and reveling in his awkwardness. His cheeks flush red and a nervous chuckle splices the silence between you.

“To be fair,” he finally counters, trying to gather his thoughts before they scatter again, “I was asked if I thought you were pretty like a princess. I didn’t, like, come up with that on my own.”

You purse your lips into a pout, feigning disappointment. “So you don’t think I’m pretty like a princess?”

“N-No, you are!” He takes a deep breath and composes himself as he notices you trying to hold in your laughter. “All right, which would you prefer? We talking trading your fins for legs or losing your glass slipper at a ball?”

“Neither,” you chide, scratching at the base of your neck absentmindedly. “More like…bookworm who rescues people in need no matter what the personal cost and captures the heart of the town outcast.” You hope that he doesn’t take offense to that last part, as true as it might be.

“So…Belle?” Eddie chuckles when you raise your eyebrows at him. “What? I have a little ankle biter, I know Disney movies.”

“Harris would never bite your ankles,” you scoff, grinning at the mere thought of the littlest Munson gnawing at the bottom of his dad’s legs mid-tantrum. “He’d just lock you out of the house until he gets what he wants.”

Eddie lifts his half-drank cup of coffee. “I’ll drink to that,” he agrees, and you gently knock your mug into his. The porcelain rims make a slight clink as they touch, echoes muffled by the chipped edges.

“So,” you start, allowing yourself to swim in his deep brown eyes for a beautiful moment before you pivot the conversation. “Why did you move to Chicago? Why not, like, LA or New York?”

He shrugs, wiping the residue of a coffee mustache from his upper lip. “Guess I wanted to stay kinda close to home. In case something happened to Wayne, or the music thing didn’t work out, or,” he smiles wryly, “if I knocked up a groupie and needed help raising a newborn.”

You press your lips together to stifle a giggle of your own, careful not to smudge whatever’s left of the lipstick you meticulously applied earlier. “So you moved back after Harris was born?”

“Yeah, when he was about…” Eddie silently does the math in his head, “a month old? Six weeks, maybe? When I realized that the whole ‘parenting’ thing is a hell of a lot harder than I thought. Especially doing it alone.” He drops his voice to a whisper as though he’s about to divulge a great secret. “Did you know that babies wake up, like, every half hour?”

“You don’t say?” Sarcasm is thickly woven into your tone. “Tell me more, Dr. Spock.”

Eddie snatches the muffin from your plate and takes an unprompted bite in retaliation. He chews like a cow on cud, slow and deliberate, relishing in his baked good thievery. You watch, unblinking, as a smirk crosses his face. “All right, smartass,” he snorts once he finally swallows, “not all of us specialize in taking care of kids.” He breaks off a hunk of his cookie and leaves it on your plate, a delicious peace offering that you gladly accept. “Anyway, Wayne let us stay with him until I found a place. Took a while to build up some funds, but I finally managed.”

“Where were you working?”

His face blanches at your question, and he finds himself inclined to bunch the paper napkin into a ball and shove it in his mouth to avoid answering. “Wh-What?”

“You said you had to build up some funds,” you explain, as though it were a convoluted construct. “Were you at the music store back then?”

“Oh, um. No.” Quicksand. Volcano eruption. A piano falling from the sky like in a classic Roadrunner and Wile E. Coyote showdown. Eddie would’ve taken any of these options over giving you an answer. “I went back to my old high school gig of, uh, dealing.” His cheeks are beet red, the heat radiating from them is the only distraction from the shame curdling in his lungs.

He keeps his eyes on the floor; to his surprise, your feet remain planted on the ground. You’re not leaving. “Oh.” Your voice draws him back to reality. “But you don’t…”

“Nope.” Eddie shakes his head. “I’m totally done with that scene. It’s just minimum wage, on-the-books bullshit for me now. I even pay taxes.” He laughs when you roll your eyes. “Although…the manager is transferring to another store soon.”

You slam your hands on the table in excitement, eyes alight with joy at this new opportunity for him. “Eddie, you have to apply!” Your eagerness fades when you notice the frown on his face. Shit, did he think you were telling him what to do? “I’m sorry if–”

“Nah, you’re good.” He bites his thumbnail without thinking, withdrawing it from between his front teeth when he sees you watching him. “‘S not like I haven’t considered it. Just feels like…if I do that, I’m officially giving up on the whole rockstar dream. Like I’m closing that chapter of my life.”

This time, you’re the one who holds onto him. His palm is pressed flat on the Formica table, and you bring your fingers underneath it to scoop his hand into yours. You give it a quick squeeze, watching a delicate smile develop across his lips. “Is that necessarily a bad thing, though? You’re not giving up on anything; you’re just shifting your priorities to make sure that Harris is always number one.” He nods halfheartedly, but you continue. “And you can always get back into music, find another band, or…maybe even make up with the Corroded Coffin guys?”

Eddie sighs, taking a strand of hair that’s fallen from its rubber band enclosure and tucking it behind his right ear. “Yeah. Maybe.” He doesn’t quite believe it; not after the terrible things he said to Jeff. Not after Gareth said he doesn’t look up to him anymore. A Corroded Coffin reunion seems about as likely as Wayne becoming a Radio City Rockette. He clears his throat and shifts his gaze back to you. “This is, uh, not first date conversation.”

You laugh at this, nodding in agreement. “No, it most certainly isn’t.” You use your free hand to take a final swig of coffee, now on the cooler side of lukewarm. “But I don’t think you and I have done anything conventionally, so it seems to be par for the course.”

Eddie shifts in his seat to lean in closer. He’s heard your response, but he’s not accepting it. Just because things began backwards didn’t mean they had to continue that way. “Tell me about you,” he says. “What do you like to do for fun? Like, hobbies and stuff.”

Your mind goes blank, as though you’ve never enjoyed any activity in your life. “Hmm,” you ponder, trying to remember a moment that wasn’t spent lesson planning or breaking up big arguments between small humans or taking care of an elderly woman who couldn’t stand you half the time. “I really love to cook,” you finally manage, thinking of the hours when you and Grandma stood in her kitchen, preparing meals or snacks or baked goods to munch on.

“No shit!” Eddie blurts out, eyes widening. “I really love to eat.”

“I’ll have to cook for you sometime,” you tell him. Surprisingly, you’re not shy when you say it. The image of you standing before the stove, stirring a pot on a burner or taking a tray of roasted vegetables from the oven while Eddie and Harris set the kitchen table, warms you from the inside out. You express your love by making meals for others, just like Grandma does. Did. “Your favorite food is olives, right?”

Eddie rolls his eyes playfully, crossing his arms over his chest and sitting back in his seat. He opens his legs slightly as he bites the inside of his lower lip to hide his smile. “I hate you sometimes, y’know that?”

“Yeah, I hate you, too.”

As soon as you and Eddie step out of the little cafe hand in hand, the bitter slap of winter is all-consuming. Snow flurries flutter to the ground, melting as soon as they touch the faded green grass. The coldness of the flakes stings the tip of your nose, and you wiggle it to try to ward off the impending numbness.

Eddie breaks the connection to dig out a crumpled pack of cigarettes from one pocket and his lighter from the other. He flicks the switch a few times before it finally catches as he shields the flame from the harsh winds. As soon as it does, he tucks the lighter away and immediately re-laces his left fingers with your right, taking a long drag and offering it out to you with a grin.

“Since you’re just a social smoker and don’t keep any on you,” he says with a twinkle in his eyes. You wonder how he could possibly know this until memories of that fateful night at the Hideout come roaring back to you. You and Eddie standing outside, making painfully awkward small talk while you figured out how to initiate a sexual encounter.

You inhale, letting the tobacco mingle with the taste of coffee and muffin already saturating your tongue, and pass the cigarette back to him. It’s a slow walk to his car; the two of you take your time as you breathe in smoke and each other’s closeness. Eddie lets you kill out the cigarette, eyes never leaving your body as you stub it into a nearby ashtray.

“I have a little confession to make,” he begins, quickly amending his statement when he catches the horrified expression on your face. “No, nothing bad; I swear!” He laughs lightly when you exhale, pressing your hand to your heart in relief. “Okay, the reason I took you out for coffee is because, well, I figured if things went well, I’d know your coffee order and could bring it to you at work or something? Like when I drop Harris off in the morning.”

The early December chill dissipates at his offer. Just the thought of Eddie memorizing your coffee order, handing you the styrofoam cup with a chaste kiss to your cheek so that none of your students or co-workers can catch you, fills you with a buzzing warmth. “I’d really like that.”

“Good,” Eddie nods, stopping at his parked car. You spot Harris’s carseat in the back, reminding you of the night Eddie drove you to his place after his show. The way he tried to hide the existence of his son from you, as though it would deter you from pursuing anything further. You can’t help but wonder how many women had turned him down after learning that he’s a dad. It has to be a decent amount, a pattern that developed, for him to become so jaded and guarded over it.

His calloused thumb ghosts over your cheek, though you can hardly feel it after being exposed to the stinging air. His gaze meets yours and he holds it, chocolate orbs fueling the fire within you.

“Feels weird asking to kiss you after we’ve already…” he trails off with a chuckle, tone laced with ambivalence. The last time he’d pressed his lips to yours, he didn’t want to stop, which scared the living shit out of him. And that was under the pretense of casual sex, not intended to go any farther than a one-night stand. But now? Now he was about to kiss you after a date, after telling you that you look pretty, after admitting that planned to get you coffee in the mornings.

If he kisses you now, there’s no going back.He’s sealing the deal, opening himself up to heartbreak, the potential to be crushed when the relationship comes to a screeching halt.

But, he reminds himself silently, it also means someone to watch movies with. Someone to buy flowers–or coffee–for. Someone to hold, to touch. Someone to share stories with, from the mundane tasks of the day to big, exciting news. Someone who I could love, who could love me and my boy.

“Eddie?” Your voice breaks into his mind, overrun with racing thoughts about the good, the bad, and the ugly of falling in–

You bring your lips to his, effectively silencing his inner monologue. His right hand stays on your face as his left grips your waist to return the kiss, deepening it with a gentle prod of his tongue. It’s wanting, but not hungry, like he’s savoring every last bite of a long-time craving. He wants this, he wants you, forever. He swears he’d never let you go if he didn’t have an oversugared, overtired four-year-old to attend to.

“You are…” he murmurs, nudging his nose with yours, but he has no idea how to end the sentence. Perfect? Mine? The one for me? “...the best.” It feels like a cop-out, but he doesn’t want to come on too strong. The irony is not lost on him that he had no problem spewing insults at you, but hesitates when it comes to affection.

“The best coffee date?” you tease, resting your hands on his chest. The sweater’s scratchy wool itches your palms, and you can’t imagine he’ll make it ten steps through the door before changing into one of his signature band tees.

“Yes. No. Yes.” He kisses your nose, an electric spark flying between you. “But also just…the best.” His fingers clasp around the door handle as he begrudgingly opens your door, not wanting the date to end. “Shall I take you home?”

No, you think, biting back your protest. No, take me to your place. Kiss me more, kiss me deeper, kiss me where the curve of my hips meets the plush of my thighs. Let me help you with your sweater; you’ll be so much more comfortable without it, Eddie.

“Okay,” you manage, sliding into your seat. He closes the door once you’re inside, jogging around to his side with a breathy chuckle.

“Gotta keep warm,” he says, turning the key in the ignition. The car rumbles to life, and as soon as he’s out of his parking spot, he takes your hand once again. Your intertwined fingers rest atop the gearshift for the entire drive to your building.

He turns off the car and faces you. “Let me walk you in.” Five simple words that ordinarily would preface sex; Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever uttered them in that order without at least the anticipation of getting laid. But there’s none of that now. He just wants to spend as much time with you as he can, before the spell is broken and he turns back into a pumpkin. Could the prince turn back into the Beast? he wonders wryly.

You cock your brow. “You sure about that? What if Grandma’s gotten herself into more trouble?”

“I’m willing to take that risk.” And he is. He’d risk everything, and for the first time in a long while, he’s not running from that feeling.

Luckily, there’s no crisis when you and Eddie arrive on your doorstep. You trade a few more giggle-laced kisses before you finally part.

The stars align on Monday morning, with Harris actually cooperating and getting ready with enough time for Eddie to stop off at the cafe to get your coffee. Okay, letting him have a Pop-Tart for breakfast instead of cereal definitely helped the situation, but it was a special occasion! And it’s not like he could tell Harris that he needed to pick up coffee for Ms. Sweetheart; the kid would be hiring caterers for a wedding if he knew.

Eddie had wanted to call you on Sunday, maybe see if you wanted to go to the playground with him and Harris and get some ice cream afterwards, but he’d ultimately decided against it. Give it some time; don’t be too eager.

It occurs to him that bringing you coffee is something that a boyfriend would do, and he hasn’t actually asked you to be his girlfriend yet. Do adults do that? Or is it just kinda implied? Shit, maybe I can take her out again this weekend and ask, just to be sure.

He gives Harris a hug and a kiss goodbye, careful not to spill any of the hot beverage as he crouches down to his height. Jitters course through his veins as he approaches your classroom, but he knows that the joy on your face–either from his kind gesture or the prospect of caffeine–will make it all worth it.

When he gets there, he only sees Will. He can’t stick around long; he doubts his boss will accept trying to impress my maybe-girlfriend as a valid excuse for tardiness.

“Hey, Byers,” Eddie calls out with a wave, pointing to the cup. “I’m just gonna leave this on her desk, if that’s cool.” He spots a black Sharpie and is about to use it to write Date night on Friday? when he catches Will’s expression. It’s a combination of confusion and sadness, with his brows pinching together as he walks over to Eddie.

Will shoves his hands in his pants pockets. “Um, she’s not coming in today. Probably not for the rest of the week.”

“Is she okay?” Worry mars Eddie’s confidence, and the sense of dread only worsens when Will quietly ushers him to the corner of the room away from the kids. “Is she sick or something?” he adds once the students are out of earshot. Will looks up at Eddie, though the height gap has decreased considerably since he was a freshman and Eddie was working through his third senior year. His eyes are shiny with tears, and he blinks them back and clears his throat. “Eddie…” he says softly, “her grandma died last night.”

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flowerandblood · 5 months

Text

The Man in the Black Mask

[ Amor • Aemond x Psyche • female ]

[ warnings: angst, violence, assassination attempt, mention of the murder of multiple people, descriptions of murders ]

[ description: After she is attacked in a fair by a strange man and narrowly avoids death, her father the king decides that from now on she will be watched over by one of his 'ghosts', a assassin acting on his orders, wearing a black mask. The man follows her like a shadow, accompanied by their past, which keeps her awake at night. Gothic horror love story, angst, sexual tension, very dark Aemond. ]

This story is several requests combined into one: sworn protector x female; Amor x Psyche; Phantom of the Opera! Aemond x female. I took the liberty of creating a completely new story from this, having only elements of each of these requests.

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* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Her father, the King, only realised how many enemies he had after a man dared to attack her while she was strolling around the fair during one of her walks. He wanted to get closer to her and slipped a dagger out from behind his cloak − if it hadn't been for the woman selling fish and her shouting, she wouldn't have noticed him or the steel gleaming in his hand.

She did what any other person in her position would have done, which is to say, she screamed in terror, stepping back, bumping into a wooden makeshift table full of vegetables, which toppled over with her − the assassin gave up at the last moment, terrified by the sudden outbreak of panic, and disappeared among the crowd.

Some elderly man helped her up, the knights of her father's guard rode up on horseback, alarmed by these frightened noises. One of them, Ser Lucas, her father's friend from his youth and the great rebellion furrowed his brow as he saw her face.

"Princess?"

She wasn't sure if her father was more furious with her or with the man who had tried to attack her. He commented on her irresponsibility and disobedience, her recklessness, and expressed outrage that her guards had not even noticed how she had escaped them.

"I just wanted to see the fair, my King." She said in a trembling voice without looking at him; she stood before him with her hair loose, wearing a beautiful navy blue gown with sleeves that reached to the ground − her shoulders were bare, on her hips a delicate golden belt made up of tiny eyes in which sapphires were framed.

"That's enough." He said agitated and impatient, raising his hand in a gesture of frustration, his dark hair and beard adding to his seriousness, his brow furrowed in anger. "Until you learn prudence, one of my ghosts will not leave your side."

She looked at him, horrified, and then turned her gaze to the man standing beside him, a few steps behind his throne, his figure hidden completely in shadow. He was dressed all in black, a hood over his head and a black mask on which a single tear was outlined under his right eye.

It was said that it was molded so that the people they were killing would have the feeling that they had compassion for them, that they were just a tool used by someone else.

People called them ghosts because they weren't seen on a daily basis – or at least that's what it was believed. They were forbidden to take off their mask or speak to anyone but her father, and were his principal emissaries that found his enemies, invigilated them and killed them.

Since the days of the rebellion and the overthrow of the earlier king, her father was perpetually in fear of an attempt on his or his children's lives, so he found, she supposed, people desperate or fond of killing, those who owed him everything and had no reason to betray them.

She passed and saw them extremely rarely, only during sumptuous feasts in the company of guests or gatherings of magnates from all over the country.

They stood then by her father's side, as always in the shadows, though invisible, constantly reminding her of their presence with their very posture, menacing and stony, the people around them afraid to look at them.

She didn't know how many of them there were in total; they were almost identical and differed only in height, besides that they wore the same clothes, masks, hoods and black leather gloves, probably to avoid staining their skin with blood.

The thought that someone like that was to accompany and guard her sent shivers down her spine − she had feared that her father would now know of her every move, that she would never leave the fortress again.

She lowered her gaze, saying no more, listening to his orders to find the man who had attacked her, whom she had described in detail to the other ghosts.

She left, feeling that if she stayed there another moment she would vomit.

It seemed to her that these black hooded figures were sucking the life out of everyone around them, that they were a walking harbinger of death and misery.

That night she heard his voice for the first time.

Her guards were outraged when he dismissed them.

"You are not a King, by what right do you command us?" Asked one of them, a cold, deep, mocking voice answered them.

"Shall I inform the King that not only are you incapable of guarding his daughter, but you refuse to obey his orders?"

She heard someone's growl and an unclear voice full of impatience, the clack of steel and armour proving that they had walked away − she was left alone with the cold murderer outside her door.

She pressed her lips together, felt her eyes burning due to the gathering tears at the realization that she had never felt more alone and abandoned than she did now.

She wriggled in bed, as she did every day, unable to fall asleep. It was raining loudly outside and she looked towards the window, seeing nothing but darkness. She felt small and even though she was lying under several thick furs, she was cold.

She rose slowly, putting a soft cashmere shawl over her shoulders, lighting a candle that illuminated her chamber with a pleasant, warm glow.

There is a man behind that mask, she thought.

He was not a ghost.

If she made any kind of bond with him, she would stop being afraid of him.

She walked to her door and stood in front of it for a long moment, feeling her heart pounding hard and fast. She swallowed hard and opened it with a loud creak of old wood.

Her candle instantly illuminated his figure − he was standing exactly opposite her door, leaning against the wall with his hands clasped in front of him. She wondered if he was asleep in that position, but after a moment she noticed something behind the translucent black material in the area cut out for his eyes, a blue iris staring at her.

She looked at him for a moment, wondering if he would move, but he stood like a statue − it seemed to her as if he were made of stone.

Was he supposed to stand like that all the time?

Her father had told her that he would gift her his one ghost.

Would they be exchanging? After all, he had to sleep at some point.

"What's your name?" She asked uncertainly, softly, wanting to sound as open and honest as possible.

Silence.

A long one.

"How am I supposed to address you if I don't know what your name is?" She asked again, looking at him pleadingly, asking him to let her at least get a little closer to him, to be able to give him humanity.

Silence.

She pressed her lips together and thought something else would make him speak.

"Should I complain to the king about you not answering my questions?" She asked lowly, wrinkling her eyebrows, wondering where she had got the courage to speak to this man in this way. A shudder went through her when she heard him let out a breath, as if he had given up, resigned.

"Call me any name you see fit." He said in a low, deep, indifferent tone, as if the fact that he had to speak to her frustrated him incredibly and he didn't understand what she wanted from him.

She felt a tightening in her throat at the thought that there was no more human thing than being given a name − it was the first thing given to a child at birth, and he renounced it.

"Shall I name you?" She asked shaking her head, not understanding what he was implying − he turned his face to the side, despite the mask she could feel the growing impatience beating from him.

"Yes. My Princess." He added after a moment, his words razor-sharp, cool, angry, mocking. She had the impression that he treated her interest as something completely unnecessary − apparently it suited him to remain in the shadows and he had no intention of coming out of it.

She looked at him with pain mixed with disappointment and thought he reminded her of one of the horrific mythological beasts her mother had once read to her about before bed, a great mighty dragon that sowed death and destruction.

"Vhagar."

She heard the word she had spoken echoed, followed only by the sound of rain, and felt that there was something final in what she had done.

"I will always treat you with respect and I will never make you do anything to humiliate you or offend your good name." She choked out with difficulty, wanting him to understand that they were condemned to each other and that this in itself was a misfortune, however, it would be even more so if they both pretended that he didn't exist, that he was just her shadow that followed her everywhere.

He did not respond.

She closed herself back into her chamber only walking towards her bed feeling that her legs were trembling. She lay down on her bed covering herself with thick furs, frozen and terrified, closing her eyes, praying to the gods to show her mercy.

That they would not lock her away in this cold, stone fortress forever until her father claimed to have found a suitable candidate for her to marry.

As she did every day, she also prayed for someone else.

Someone who had lived in this chamber before her.

The next day she got up awake, a terrible headache accompanying her from the moment she opened her eyes. She sat down at the table, covering herself with her shawl − overnight the wood in her fireplace had burned out.

She lifted her gaze as she heard the door to her chamber open, her servants entering with golden trays on which they served her breakfast.

She saw Vhagar follow them inside, his hands entwined behind his back − it seemed to her that his footsteps made no sound, that he could sneak up on someone silently.

"You're supposed to taste everything first." He said to one of them dryly and emotionlessly − the girl looked at him apprehensively, clearly already knowing stories of men of his ilk and what they did.

"My Lord?" She choked out, clearly not understanding what he was asking her.

"Anything the Princess wants to eat or drink − you are to taste it first. This is how it will be from now on with everything you bring her. Do you understand?" He asked coolly and insistently, and she nodded, lowering her gaze, pale.

"Is this necessary, Vhagar?" She asked looking at him with a furrowed brow − he turned his face towards her but answered nothing. He looked back at her servant after a moment.

"Begin."

"I've lost my appetite. Take this away. You can eat it all, let it not go to waste." She said raising her hand, allowing them to leave turning her head to the side, looking blankly at her wardrobe standing on the other side of the chamber.

She saw out of the corner of her eye that he hadn't moved from his spot, that he was looking at her, his aura giving her shivers.

She knew he was about to say something.

"My Princess…" He started and she turned her face towards him. "…are you going to eat your meal, or do I have to shove it down your throat?"

She looked at him with huge eyes, feeling her heart pounding fast.

She thought with horror that he was mad.

"That is all, Vhagar. You may leave." She said in an unobjectionable voice, clasping her hands in her lap, trying to hide how much they were trembling.

He stared at her, his black tear-streaked mask seeming even more frightening and mocking to her, cold and lifeless.

"Mmm." He hummed, though it sounded more like a purr, bowed barely visibly and left her chamber.

She let out a loud breath, burying her face in her hands, feeling a desperate burbling in her stomach from hunger, thinking that she would not give him the satisfaction of letting him dominate her life, ordering her servants around, locking her in a cage.

She asked her servants to help her dress − she put on this time a light-coloured gown with a fine gold belt around her hips made up of tiny chains, some of her hair pinned back in a bun, some falling down her bare back, her sleeves reaching all the way to the ground.

She walked out of her chamber without looking at him, without telling him where she was going, hearing that he immediately moved to follow her.

Her shadow.

She saw the ladies of the court looking at her, terrified of who was accompanying her, as if she were being followed by death itself − people turned their faces away and froze in silence, not knowing what to do, how to react to this unwanted sight.

She headed for the main castle library hearing him enter behind her − he stopped at the door when it slammed behind them, standing in front of it with his hands folded behind his back.

She was starving and decided to distract her mind with some reading. She picked up a few books on the history of her kingdom, sitting down at one of the large oak tables right by the window to get more light. She opened one of the books in front of her, looking for the chapter that interested her.

"You may sit down, Vhagar." She said dispassionately, not wanting him to think she expected him to stand there like some stone pillar, but he didn't move from his place.

An hour passed before he spoke to her, snapping her out of her reverie.

"You need to eat." He communicated a little more softly than before − she felt him looking at her, but she did not lift her gaze to him, uninterested.

"My servants will not taste my food. You yourself watch the cooks and what they put on my platters." She replied with reserve, answered by a long silence.

"Very well."

She looked up at him, sighing quietly, his face turned towards her − she knew what was the reason for his impatience, what he was afraid of.

What would the King think if it turned out that under his watch she had begun to refuse food and starve herself? How would that reflect on him as her protector?

She rose from her seat, putting her books slowly back on the shelf, returning to her chamber without changing another word with him.

As she sat down to supper with her father, her younger brother, and his closest associates, the King immediately asked her what she thought of her new sworn protector, who stood behind her chair right next to the wall, as usual, hidden completely in the shadows.

She swallowed loudly a piece of the roast she had just had in her mouth, noticing with a kind of discomfort that her father spoke of him as if he had given her a thing, not a man.

"Thank you, Father, I do indeed feel safer in his presence." She lied, clutching the wine cup in her hand and taking a loud sip from it, wanting to end the subject quickly.

The King nodded, looking impatiently to his confidant secretary, a companion to all the major battles won during the rebellion.

"Has Prince Aemond's body been found at last? It's been eight years, for goodness sake." He said sternly, impatient; as far as she understood, only his body of the entire Targaryen family had not been found after the great massacre that had taken place in the fortress where they were now feasting.

Lord Ronan grunted loudly, shifting in his seat, blinking rapidly as if thinking of what to answer.

"We are getting closer, my King. We're searching the city's underground, likely to find his corpse soon. The cut of the sword fell right on his face, he couldn't have survived that." He said with a certainty that was filled with the need to sound as convincing as possible, which did not escape her or her father attention.

She lowered her gaze, setting down her cup with a loud clang of metal on the wooden tabletop, looking down at her plate, losing her appetite completely.

The entire royal family slaughtered in their beds after her father at the head of the army stormed into the fortress, elected by the people to rule after the inept reign of King Viserys.

"With apologies, I will retire to my chamber. My King. My Prince. My Lords." She said bowing in turn and moved ahead, not waiting for her father's permission − she heard rustling behind her, she knew her ghost had not left her side.

They walked in silence through the dark corridors of the fortress illuminated only by the warm light of torches − she knew the way to her chamber by heart. Her mind, however, was elsewhere, wondering what would happen if Prince Aemond lived.

If he came in with his army and slit their throats as her father had done to his family.

She stood in front of the door to her chamber, glancing up at his tall black figure towering over her like a cold shadow.

"Thank you for your devotion, Vhagar. Rest now." She said turning her head and opened the door, but stood in half step, surprised to hear his voice behind her.

"How does it feel to sleep where she slept?" He asked with a kind of excitement, as if the thought of it gave him satisfaction.

She felt her heart start pounding like mad, a cold sweat on her back at the thought of Princess Helaena bleeding to death in the bed she was now sleeping in.

She looked up at him − in the light of the torch she could see through the black fabric his blue irises, his pupil looking at her in such a way that she had the impression that he was a predator who was looking at his prey, whose entrails he was about to tear apart.

She was silent for a long moment.

"Horrible." She said dispassionately lowering her gaze.

"I imagine her lying in my place and all I can think about is that the same thing will happen to me one day." She muttered, feeling his heavy gaze on her − there was some kind of tension between them, though she didn't know why. "I pray every day for her forgiveness."

"Ghosts do not forgive." He said coldly, as if stating some foreboding, indisputable fact − she looked at him with a pained expression, furrowing her brow.

"What else can I do?" She asked in a trembling voice, but got no answer, his black mask with a tear running down his cheek looked at her indifferently.

"Sleep well, Princess."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

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twstfanblog · 8 months

Text

*~Period Drama~*

A/N: This was a funny idea I had and Now I'm gonna do another series with my Yuu OC. Note that I write most of the cast in a platonic sense with my OC because that's how their story formed. I'm fully open to doing requests with characters in a romantic sense. Word Count: 4.7K Warnings: Period mentions, allusions to sexual assault (They are assumed, nothing actually happens), She/They OC Pronouns Pairings: Azul/Reader (Poly), Jamil/Reader (Poly) Enjoy! Start (Here), Part 2 (Octavinelle), Part 3 (Heartslabyul), Part 4 (Savanaclaw), Part 4.5 (Diasomnia pt.1), Part 5 (Diasomnia pt2)

Yuu was forgetting something, she knew she was. But sitting in her pjs on a Saturday morning, an over-filled bowl of sugary cereal in hand, she couldn't be bothered to really care.

It was shaping up to be a good day too. None of the staff needed her help with anything, her friends all had their club meetings, and the kitchen was stocked with easy-to-grab snacks for Grim. the cat monster himself had even started his homework on Friday night with minimal fighting. Literally, nothing could be wrong, but she still felt uneasy. They woke up feeling weary and oddly bloated.

With an inquisitive expression, she taps her spoon against her bowl. They really hoped they weren't going to spend all day in a strange sense of deja vu…

Then she sneezed and everything made sense. Yuu blinks, moving back to pull the seam of their pj pants, looking down as they groan, "Ah, shit…"

Azul loved Saturdays, they were his biggest money-maker days. Students came to the Mostro Lounge either to get a head start on homework, grab a drink after practice or clubs, or merely have a freshly cooked meal. It also was the day he had most of his workforce available so he could spare the time to walk around campus or catch up on his own paperwork.

But, what he's trying to do was gather his courage and think up a plausible enough reason for him to go visit his date-mate. Not that he usually needed one, they were very vocal about how he was always a welcomed presence in their company.

But, Yuu had been…easily irked? Prickly? Upset. Yuu had been upset for most of the week but anyone who questioned their mood was quickly shot down. The prefect would then tensely state they weren’t mad and then questioned why people thought they were mad. Sure they had a very intense resting bitch face but who didn't at Night Raven? (He's fairly certain you needed to either be handsome or have the most terrifying resting bitch face to be admitted to this school).

So he wasn't too pressed about his date-mate's mood until Floyd said something. He had come into the back office pouting of all things, saying 'Shrimpy smelled off'. They had also punched him when the eel merman attempted to pick them up, which wasn't normal.

Jade handled his twin, trying to cull Floyd’s decreasing mood, while Azul opened a few text chats to ask if anyone had caused Yuu reason to want to kill someone. The genuine confusion and concern that answered back only made him more uneasy.

Now, on a sunny Saturday, Azul made the long journey toward Ramshackle. With an obscure board game tucked under his arm and a bag of exclusive gummy candy in hand, he was on a mission to improve his dear pearl’s mood.

Or he was until he was suddenly being dragged down the dirt road in a different direction. He yelped and shouted, trying to angle himself to see what was pulling him through the mud and sticks. The answer was Sam’s shadows, the black willowy wisps quickly yanking him into the shop and setting him on his feet. Azul looks down at his outfit, scowling at seeing the dirt and grass stains. Sevens, did he rip his slacks?

“Lil fish.”

Azul jolts, eyes wide and semi-fearful at Sam’s echoing tone. The man stood behind the counter, a number of medical supplies laying across the surface as his nails gripped at the wood. Sam’s eyes were wide, pupils pinprick as his amethyst orbs almost glowed under all the shadows. Speaking of shadows…Azul looks around the shop, feeling actual fear stir in him. The shadows were everywhere, zipping through the aisles, slithering in and out of the back room, and some were even racing out of the shop, “Uh…Yes, Sam? H-how can I be of assistance?” He didn’t stutter, he refuses to admit he stuttered.

“Do you know what a pad is?”

…

“Like…Like a notepad or-”

“NO!” Sam slams his fist onto the counter, the lights of the near-endless shop flickering wildly at the force of it. He rests his face in his hands, paying no mind to his makeup and hat that fell to the counter. Looking up, his intense stare was replaced with one of desperation, “You’re killing me here, kid. Look, if you know what a damn pad is, just tell me where to get one! I know you and the lil pup talk!”

“I swear, I have no clue what you’re talking about, sir.” Sevens, had Azul ever felt scared of Sam? He didn’t like this, why was his fellow businessman so frazzled? What kind of pad was he talking about? Why couldn’t he find it and assumed Azul would know where and what the damn thing was?

Sam groans, hands running furiously through purple-tinted lock braids. With a snap of his fingers, the wisps all stop. Either quickly entering the shop or bleeding into the shadows to hide once more, “Look just…Go see the prefect. They called me asking for sanitation pads? That’s the business name they told me anyway…That and just…a lot of pain potions.”

Azul clicked out of his confusion, growing nervous at the potions request, “I…wait are they hurt? Shouldn’t they be in the infirmary?”

“I suggested that, but they insisted they didn’t need to go, just the potions. I’m sending them over soon, Crewel is due to deliver my order in an hour or two. I’ll send him over after ya once he gets here.” Sam grumbles under his breath as Azul rushes out of the store. ‘Primadonna dog hates when I call him while he’s brewing…’

Azul pulls his phone from his pocket, sending a text to both Jade and Floyd. Yuu was in pain, they had requested something called a ‘sanitation pad’? Whatever those were. By the name he could only guess they were used for cleaning of some kind. He sent the twins a message to meet him at Ramshackle ASAP, potentially 119 status. Yuu had always joked about the Octavinelle trio being the first ones they’d call if they needed to hide a body. But, it seemed when it came time for them to actually make the call, the poor thing must have been overwhelmed. He could only think they had done it in self-defense, but the cause didn’t matter. There wasn’t going to be a body in a few hours.

Halfway through the woods to Ramshackle, he hears other footsteps hurrying to catch him. Looking over his shoulder, he raises an eyebrow at the extra amount of people, “Why are they here?”

Ace, Deuce, and Jamil all kept a quick jog behind Floyd and Jade’s long-legged walk. Floyd rolled his eyes, pointing behind him with his thumb, “I was at practice. Crabby and Sea Snake saw the text and wanna help lil Shrimpy too…”

Deuce raises a hand, "I saw them leaving the gym on my way to track practice. Yuu's my classmate and friend, it's only right I help them."

Jamil hisses under his breath, side-eyeing Azul as he sped up to walk beside him, “Plus, they’re my date-mate too, asshole…”

Rolling his eyes, Azul sighed, waving Jamil’s attitude off, “Yes, yes. We can meet with Draconia later about our timeshare lover's crimes. But for now, we need to go and assist them with the dead body I’m sure is on their property.”

Ace sighs, relaxing more as he leans back, arms folding behind his head, “Yuu finally did it, huh?”

“I mean…They can only threaten to murder someone so many times before they’d snap…” Deuce pipes up, rubbing the back of his head, almost dreading getting blood on his uniform again.

Floyd giggled, “I can’t wait to see who Shrimpy squeezed~. I bet they made it real messy!”

“Hmm…I wouldn’t put it past Yuu to kill someone via strangulation. But their MO seems to lean more toward bludgeoning.” Jade smiles to the group, eyes closing in barely hidden glee, “If anything clean up will at least be interesting if we’re just dealing with some blood splatter and a puddle!”

Ace and Deuce wince, watching Floyd, Azul, and Jamil simply nod at Jade’s examination.

The mood was instantly broken once they came into view of Ramshakle. Floyd and Jade tensed, their smiles dropping off their faces before racing toward the dorm as two teal-colored blurs. Azul shouted, only to choke on his tongue at the smell. Blood. His nose wasn’t anywhere as sensitive as Floyd's or Jade’s but even at this distance, he could smell the sharp iron smell. He jogged to catch up with his dormmates, his expression of panic causing the other three to speed up as well.

All he could smell was Yuu’s blood. Sharp and salty, but spiced and sweet because of their diet. A hint of some type of alien fragrance that no one could place and Yuu couldn’t name mixing it all together perfectly. And that was all he was smelling, not even a hint of another person’s blood.

When the rest of the group had made it to the front porch, Floyd was pounding on the door, eyebrows creased while Jade searched the bushes for the hidden key, “Shrimpy! Open up! Shrimpy!”

Jade’s fingers had just grazed the false rock when the door’s locks clicked open. Floyd swung the door so hard it nearly sent Grim into the hallway wall. The feline monster kept to the ground, eyes wide and teary with fear, “Yuu’s bleeding all over everything and they won’t tell me why!”

Deuce was the only one who had the mindset to scoop Grim into his arms, the rest of them instantly rushing up the stairs toward Yuu’s bedroom. The sound of their footsteps pounding on the floor echoing in the house, each of them calling out in panicked voices. Azul could only grow increasingly worried, the scent of blood growing stronger and stronger.

Jade slams the door open, Ace instantly diving into the bed and startling Yuu awake.

“The-The fuck- hello?”

Ace cupped their face, using what medical lessons Riddle had drilled into his head to see if they had a visible injury, “Yuu! Can you hear me? We were calling you all the way downstairs- Ay!” He tumbles off the bed when Yuu shoves him aside, dark eyes glaring down at the redhead.

“Yeah, I was sleeping. Why are all of you in my house?”

“We smelled blood shrimpy!” Floyd kneeled onto the bed, sniffing around trying to find the main source of blood. Ignoring or nipping at Yuu’s hands trying to shove his face away from her body.

Azul stepped forward, eyes roaming in barely concealed haste, “Sam sent me over. He was worried by a request you had called him about? It’s sent him positively spiraling.”

Yuu raises an eyebrow, having given up on getting Floyd off their bed and wrapping an arm around him instead, “Yeah I was about to ask. Octobaby, what truck did you get dragged behind and did you at least get the license plate?”

Whatever positive flow of atmosphere that was building ended, Floyd grasping the duvet covering them and pulling, “Shrimpy, where are you bleeding-”

A single tug was all it took for Yuu’s bottom half to be flashed. They all look in stunned silence. Fresh red blood on a series of towels under them, a smear on the inside of their bare legs. Yuu shouts but none of them respond, minds spiraling at what could have possibly happened.

“Floyd! By the Seven, I’m not wearing any pants!” Yuu snatches the blanket back, draping it over their legs with a huff. They turn to Floyd only to have their face gripped harshly. Floyd stared at them with a dead expression, his single golden eye almost glowing with the force of his anger, “Floyd?”

“Who?”

“Wha-”

“Who?”

“Floyd.” Jade’s hands come into view, pulling Floyd’s grip off of their face and his brother off the bed. Jade was no better, a pleasant smile on his face but eyes wide and void of any emotion, “It’ll do no good to pressure them into telling us. Let us let our two professionals deal with this. The two of us can brainstorm methods of...disposing of the unsavory culprit once we have a name or description.”

Yuu watched them slowly leave the room. Floyd just barely letting Jade pull him along as his expression started to finally morph into a look of anger. His fists clenched as he gritted his teeth, body so tense his movements were more shaky than his normal loose glide.

Looking beside them, Yuu catches eyes with Ace and Deuce. Ace quickly turned away, a hand covering his mouth as a single tear slid down his cheek and his shoulders shook. Deuce was no better, gripping Grim in his arms as he hiccuped softly with just barely contained sobs. He looked like he was fighting back the urge to go into 'delinquent mode'.

Jamil finally moves, a hand on each of Ace's and Deuce's shoulders, guiding them to the door. Softly pushing them out too once Jade had managed to pull Floyd out of the room, “Let us talk to them…We’ll…we’re gonna figure this out…”

Yuu watches stunned as Azul walks toward them as though he was approaching a wounded animal; softly, with just a hint of fear and pity, “Azul…What’s-?”

“It’s ok.” Jamil closed the door, still facing it so Yuu wasn’t sure if he was saying it to them or mumbling to himself, “It's…It’s ok, you’re gonna be fine…”

Azul had finally reached them and they could clearly see the unshed tears in his eyes, “It’s not your fault. This is not your fault, do you hear me?” He ran his fingers through their hair, his other hand gently cupping against her cheek as his thumb shakingly caressed their skin. He opens his mouth, closing his eyes while he sighs a shuddering sob. Gathering his wits again he opens his eyes, a fiery determination glowing in them, “We’re here for you, my pearl.”

“Wha…?” Yuu could only wrap their arms around Azul, the merman diving to embrace her in what had to be the most protective hold he could do with just his two arms. It felt safe and sturdy, like a cool blanket was wrapped around their body. While it was welcomed, Yuu only grew more confused feeling a wet spot start to form on their shoulder where Azul’s face had snuggled into, “I’m…very confused…”

“Yuu.”

If Azul wasn’t holding them, they would have jumped off the bed. Jamil stood right next to them with a blank expression. His face pulled into a mask of neutrality, but his eyes were steely, an ice-cold fire in them waiting to find a victim.

“Who. You can tell me, you can trust me. We’ll handle everything, you won't even have to look at the bastard unless you want to beat him to death yourself.” He kneels on the bed, his hand moving to touch her covered thigh before retreating, a pinched expression breaking his mask before it was back in place, “You have to tell us who did this to you, hayati.”

Did what to them?

Yuu stared at Jamil, blinking when he finally had to look away to bite his lip. He looked to be holding back tears, fully turning around to put his face in his hands to mutter under his breath. ‘How could he let this happen? Why couldn’t he have just one thing with nothing to ruin it?’ a teary sob of ‘Do they not trust him?’

“My pearl?” Azul pulls his face away from their shoulder, sniffling before he removes his glasses briefly to wipe his tears, “Do you…Would you like me to draw you a bath? This can’t be comfortable-”

“Azul!” Jamil whipped around, glaring at the merman, sparing them a worried glance before turning back to Azul and whispering heatedly, “They can’t take a bath until they get checked, you moron!”

“What’s there to check Jamil!? We can all clearly see what happened! Why put them through the extra…extra poking and defilement when we know what happened!?”

“Because we need evidence!”

“What we need is a name! Or a description! I’m not even going to entertain the idea of bringing this to a court. We have plenty of manpower on campus to bury whoever did this 12 times over.”

“Excuse me, what the fuck are you guys talking about?” Yuu spoke up, eyes glancing between the two of them, “Because if you mean the bleeding, that’s pretty standard at this point.” Maybe they just…forgot they had a vagina? Boys normally didn’t react well to period talk in the first place, but this was an all-boy school and Yuu was more non-gendered than female-gendered. Maybe they just honestly forgot.

But, what they said had only made things worse, both Azul and Jamil looking at them in absolute horror. Standard. This was normal. This had happened multiple times already.

Azul starts to openly sob, wrapping himself around them in a way to keep everything else away, nuzzling his head into her neck and whimpering out apologies. Jamil covered his mouth, a look that Yuu could only call devastation on his face before he stood from the bed to pace the room. Mutters grew in volume and speed before Yuu finally realized what they thought had happened.

“Oh. OH!” They quickly pull Azul from their neck, hands pressed to both his cheeks to keep him looking into their eyes, “Sevens! Guys no! That isn’t what this is, I promise! No one hurt me like that!”

“You expect us to believe that!?” Jamil turns on them, eyes wild and red with held-back tears. He gestures to the bed, alluding to the mess of blood under the covers, “What else could this possibly be!? Why are you trying to defend them!?”

“Jamil, I’m on my period!” Yuu looked back at Azul once her words seemed to hit Jamil, “It’s just my period. No one hurt me. I’m…well, not fine. Periods are a bitch. But not that…I swear it wasn’t that.”

No one made a sound past Azul’s labored breathing, the merman’s expression slowly morphing from one of despair into confusion. Once his breathing was finally under control, he pulled Yuu’s hands from his face, a single brow raised, “Your…your period?”

“Yeah…It’s just my period.”

Jamil pulls a face, eyes looking down as his brain worked to understand what Yuu was saying, “...Like the punctuation?”

Yuu frowned, turning to Jamil, “Don’t you act fucking dumb with me.” They press a kiss to Azul’s forehead, letting him slump against their chest, not seeing the gears turning in his head, “You and your sister are basically the same petty soul shared between two bodies. You know what a period is Jamil.”

The two mages catch eyes across the room, both…so painfully confused. Azul takes his time to finally untangle from Yuu, giving a small smile and patting hesitantly at the blanket, “O-okay…A period…right?”

At Yuu’s annoyed nod, Jamil sniffs, checking that he hadn’t cried before looking over to the door, “And…Najma will know. You’re sure she will?”

“I mean basically every girl gets a period so I would think so Jamil…”

The two boys share another look, communicating in a way Yuu hadn’t learned to do with them yet before they turn back to them with those soft, weak smiles. Azul caresses their face again, saying they should go back to sleep and that someone will bring up something to eat later on. It was slow, they clearly didn’t want to leave, but they both closed the door behind them. They share another look in the hallway, nodding before moving to regroup with the others.

The contained chaos they walk in on was almost comical if the reason wasn’t so mortifying. Jade had a hand gripped on each of Floyd’s shoulders while they took up the loveseat, whispering to the taller eel as he held him back. The whispers growing in intensity as his eyes widened in manic glee every time Floyd growled and moved to pull out of his brother’s hold. Ace was leaning against the wall, anger clear on his face as his nails bit into his forearms. He was the only one who looked up when they walked into the room. Deuce sat on the couch, curled around who they could only think was Grim, his shoulders shaking with barely contained cries.

Ace speaks up first, calling everyone else’s attention to their entry, “Well? Who’s the bastard we’re hunting down?”

Jamil and Azul pause, Jamil looking to the side and sighing, “They say nothing happened-”

“They’re lying!” Grim cries from Deuce’s arms.

The spade Heartslabyul soldier sniffles, raising his head to look from over the couch, “Grim said they’ve been bleeding since this morning. From before he woke up…”

Jamil pulled out his phone, already dialing his sister, “They said Najma would know what’s going on…They were…so sure nothing…happened…”

Ace opened his mouth to yell only to be cut off at the sound of Najma picking up the line on speakerphone.

“Jamil? What’s wrong, you never call me?”

“...” Jamil gulped, gripping his phone before speaking, “Najma, I need you to be completely honest with me. Swear on your life levels of seriousness. Do you know what a period is?”

“...Like the punctuation?”

Azul bit his lip, a hand moving to cover his mouth and start to pace around the room. He walks closer to Jade and Floyd to explain, the two eels listening to his quick words in clear confusion.

“I…Najma, something happened. Is it…normal to…” He let out another sigh, almost wishing it would take his soul with it, “Is it normal to bleed…out of your vagina?”

The beat of silence almost gave Jamil hope. Maybe it was some super secret girl thing that no male was allowed to ever know about. Maybe everyone in the room would have to be killed once Najma confirmed its existence. He knows he would at least prefer that over the alternative.

“Jamil, what the fuck? No!? No, that's not normal!? Jamil who do you know that’s bleeding out of their-”

“Don’t have time, I’ll call you back once this is all settled.” He’s never hung a phone up so fast. It quickly rings again, but he just declines Najma’s call and silences his phone. Now looking around, everyone else in the room is just as confused if not more so than he and Azul were.

“...What?” Jade tilts his head to the same degree his brother does while they both study Jamil, each trying to find…something in the conversation they just heard.

Azul spoke up, leaning his elbow against the fireplace, a hand coming up to rub at his temple, “They said they were simply on their period and that this was normal. They were also very certain Najma would confirm this sentiment, claiming it was a natural thing girls did.”

Deuce sat in thought, his brain working overtime to try and piece together the information they had, “Maybe…Uh…Wait, I can ask my mom!”

“What is your mom gonna know, Deuce!?” Ace hissed, more frustrated than actually angry.

“I don’t know, she’s like...an older girl? Maybe she knows more about it than Najma would?”

“...” Jade looks toward Azul with a shrug, “It’s another source of information. We’re literally going in blind with this.” He looks down in worry, feeling Floyd relax in his arms. His brother wasn’t calm by any means, more so his mood had finally reached so low that his homicidal urges couldn’t properly latch onto it. He just kept Floyd in his arms, holding his taller brother under his arms as though he was a cat.

Deuce pulls out his phone with one hand, the other keeping a grip on Grim as the monster whines. It only took a very rings before the phone was answered again.

“Hi, Deuce! I was just about to send you a text. I found this new cafe and they make the cutest parfaits-”

“Mom, that’s cool. Send me a picture later but. Um…I got a really weird and private question to ask you-”

“Deuce, we talked about this sweetie. There’s nothing wrong with liking certain things-”

“NOT THAT, NOT THAT!” He blushes, quickly cupping his phone away from view of the others. He whispers his question into the receiver, waiting with bated breath when the other line was quiet.

“Sweetie. Am I on speaker?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“That isn’t…that isn’t something that should be happening. Is this…Deuce, is this about your friend Yuu?” At the affirmative, she continued, “I know you said they weren’t from around…anywhere really. But you boys need to tell your teachers about this. Whoever told them this was normal lied to them.”

The nervousness returns, everyone sharing a look, Deuce thanking his mom before hanging up the phone. Pass the stray sigh or muffled rambles no one spoke, each one of them was scared to voice their theories. Everything easily pointed toward…assault. But Yuu was such a level of certain that it was hard to deny the doubt that grew at the idea. There were magical ways of getting the truth out of people, they had Jade and Jamil, so it wouldn't be hard. But none of them wanted to break the trust Yuu had given to them. Not to mention the small chance that something did happen, and forcing Yuu to recount the horrible situation was cruel even by Night Raven standards if they were trying to actively suppress it.

It seemed like they sat in silence for hours before they all heard the front door slam open, footsteps quickly stepping through the hall before a signature black and white coat filled the doorway. Crewel stood with one hand on his hip, the other impatiently tapping his crop against his leg.

“Ok, what’s going on? I’ve had students running around terrified from Sam’s shadows. I go to see Sam to ask about it and he informs me that he sent you runts to check on my puppy.” Crewel looks around the room, his frown turning into a scowl before he schools his expression again, “And there's no sign of my puppy in this pack of dogs, so what’s happened?”

After a prolonged silence, Ace groaned, deciding to bite the bullet since no one else wanted to, “Yuu’s bleeding from…from their vag and won't tell us why.”

…

“...” Crewel stepped to the side, light gray eyes seeming to look past all of them while he used his crop to point down the hall, “Get out.”

“Sensei-”

“Get. Out.”

The scramble they did out of the room was like a pack of dogs released into the wild, each of them refusing to meet the glacier-level stare of their teacher as they ran past. They didn’t leave Ramshackle property, choosing to instead stand outside and wait to be fully dismissed.

Crewel took the stairs two at a time, flinging Yuu’s bedroom door open. The sound of it slamming into the wall made Yuu groan in protest. He walks to the bed and sits, a hand instantly brushing their bangs back to alert them to his presence. He couldn't tell through his gloves, but they had seemed flushed, “Puppy? Puppy, talk to me. What's happening? I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Yuu hums, just barely getting back to sleep before Crewel woke them up again. A hand pressed to their lower stomach and grumbled, “Hmmmm….Period…” “...Pup. What’s a period, explain it to me.” He keeps his hand in their hair, petting in a way to soothe both of them if needed. Period, Yuu clearly wasn’t talking about punctuation. All his mind could reach then was that period was speaking of a state of time. Meaning this was something that happened on some type of schedule.

Groaning, Yuu sits up, letting her head rest against Crewel’s shoulder, “Period, monthly bleed and all that. It’s girl stuff, you know biology, Crewel…”

Taking her in his arms, Crewel rubs at their back. Monthly…It’s at times Crewel is made painfully aware of how lacking he and the rest of Night Raven College were in knowledge about Yuu’s biology. “Yuu…That’s not a thing in Twisted Wonderland.” He can feel the moment they tense up, letting them pull back to look at him.

Yuu stares at their pseudo-father, eyes searching for some sign of the past hour being nothing but a really bad joke. Seeing none, they feel a cold realization hit, “Oh…Well, this is gonna be a real interesting time…”

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #yuu oc #twst azul #twst jamil #twst deuce #twst jade #twst floyd #azul x reader #jamil x reader #jamil x yuu #jamil x mc #azul x yuu #azul x mc

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nyasiaaaaa · 3 months

Text

In the Bleak Mid-Winter

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Fem reader (Nurse) Fem reader x Arthur ( platonic )

Summary: This is a story about two people who become constants in each others lives, and eventually fall for each. While one learns to love again, the other learns the cost of loving a man like him.

Word count: 5k

Warnings: Cursing, angst, fluff ,Tommy Shelby, y/n eats ( If I missed anything or you think something should be added please tell me.) Major character death from season 4 episode like 1/2

A/N: part 1 takes place during season two, part 2/3 season 3 and 4/5/6 season 4. This is a Slow burn there will be smut eventually.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 part 5

********************

It's been a year.

A lot of things have changed since then; you've changed.

You're not the same person you were a year ago; you're still a nurse and still work in the hospital, but in London now.

You know the other nurse in hospital like the last, you eat lunch together but never go out. They always ask, but you always have the same excuse.

It's not like you're lying. You really don't have anyone to watch her, but if you wanted to, you could find someone, but don't. Honestly, though, you prefer the company of a bottle of whiskey over anyone else.

You also never have the energy to do anything anymore; you wake up throughout the night, then wake up to go to work, come home tired from a 12-hour shift, and go to sleep to do it all over again.

You barely eat, you barely sleep.

When you look in the mirror, you're just a hollow version of yourself, like you don't have control over your body. You're just sitting back as it goes through the motions, as someone else controls you.

She's not the only reason you can't sleep; if she's not waking you up because of her screams, you're waking yourself up with your own.

These nightmares are so haunting that most times, after you wake up, you just stay up.

And that's where you're at now, waking up from a dream like every other night.

You thrash around in your bed and suddenly wake up coughing as you grab hold of your throat. You get up from your bed, covered in sweat, and walk downstairs to the kitchen, rubbing your chest as you catch your breath.

You walk around the corner to the kitchen and instantly jump when you see someone sitting at your table in the dark. The old you would've freaked, grabbed your gun and threatened them.

But you now couldn't care less; you just grabbed two glasses and a bottle of whiskey off the drink table. You bring it over and set it down, pouring the whiskey into each cup, filling it halfway, and then sliding one over to your companion.

You then sit down and take a swing of your drink before reaching for your pack of cigarettes.

"Want one," you ask, holding a cig out to them.

They take it, and you pull out one more for yourself; you then strike up a match, reaching towards them to light theirs first; once they got closer to the flame, it became clear who was sitting at this table with you.

You light the cigarette, then pull the match to light your own; you take a drag, hold it in, and then blow it out. You do this action a couple more times, and neither of you says a word as you smoke; you both just sit there in silence.

You finish up your cig, put it out in the ashtray, then proceed to light another. Again, you smoke in silence, but this time, as you're almost finished with your cig, you speak up.

"I thought you would've sent Micheal," You say as you reach to ash your cig in the ashtray.

He finishes up his cig, putting it out before responding to you. "He was busy," he shrugs.

"'M honestly, I would've preferred Micheal." You put your cig out and then took a sip of your drink.

"Well, looks like you're out of luck 'cause I'm here."

"Yes, you are; please do tell me why it is that you're here after all this time."

"We got served a black hand," he spoke with such seriousness, but you were confused.

"Ok, am I supposed to know what that means or what it has to do with me"

He took a deep breath and said, "We have to tighten house. We killed one of theirs way back, and now they're coming to get even."

You pursed your lips and turned your head to the side, slightly shrugging your shoulders. "And what does that have to do with me."

"They killed John."

"May he rest in peace? "even though you didn't mean for it to, it had come out more like a question than a statement.

"But again, what does this have to do with me," you asked

He let out a dry laugh, licking his lips, then got up and got in your face. He took hold of your wrist and bent down to your height.

"Because the Italian Mafia doesn't care if you don't fuck with me, they are going to kill everyone that has ever spoken to me, anyone who's ever been close to me to hurt me to break me down before killing me."

Even though he tried to seem calm and collected, you couldn't see it in his eyes or face, but you could hear it in his voice.

He was hurting.

You ripped your wrist from his grip and stood up, moving closer to him and getting in his face.

"Well, Tommy, it seems like you have a real problem on your hands; best of luck to you." You smiled at him, then stood up and began to walk away

Suddenly, you were pushed against the wall and turned to face him.

"Look, I—"his speech was cut short once he heard a cry coming from upstairs; his eyes darted down to you, his head tilted as he looked at you.

"Tommy, I-"you start but stop once Tommy pushes off you.

You tried to get past him to go up the steps first, but he pulled out a gun on you and pushed you back into the kitchen. He slowly took a step back as you took steps forward.

"Do it, Do it, Tommy. Be a man. Do it," You said as you walked forward; you held your head high as you spoke so there was no room for doubt on Tommy's part.

He looked at you, puzzled, then shut the door in your face. You immediately rushed to the door, but it was too late. He locked it. You tightened your grip on the door knob as you jiggled it relentlessly,

"Tommy…. Fuck— Tommy, please" You were starting to panic; you had to get to her first.

You dashed over to the drawers and started to throw everything out and slam it shut as you moved on to the next one. The key was in one of these drawers; it had to be you had remembered putting it in here you—

You found it in the last drawer; you ran over to the door but slipped on the things you had thrown on the floor and fell on your back, making the key fall out of your hand. You hop on your knees, ignoring the pain in your back that grew with every move you made as you searched the now messy floor for the key; you can already barely see because of the darkness, but the tears that start to build only make it worse.

Your hand brushed against something sharp, and you turned your head in its direction as you stretched your hand out again, patting it around. Your hand instantly comes in contact with the cold metal key. You grab it, rushing to the door. You try to place the key in the door, but it keeps brushing past the hole.

You stopped, took a deep breath, and tried again, and despite your shaking hand, you were able to place the key in and unlock the door. As soon as the door opens, you ran up the step to her room.

It's too late.

You walk into the room and see Tommy holding your daughter in his hands.

Without thinking, you say, "She's not yours."

It's a lie, you know it, and so does he. Anyone could see from a mile away that she was his, and it's not like she looked like him or you even; she was still too young to look like anyone. But she had those eyes, the same eyes her father had.

You look up at Tommy and know you are in trouble. He had just met her, and already he was in love. He was already hell-bent on taking you with him, but now that he knew of her, there was no way he was letting y'all go.

You're about to speak up but get cut off by some men behind you.

"We're here, Mr.Shebly. What do you want us to do?"

You didn't turn around to see if you knew the men; you just kept your eyes forced ahead on Tommy.

"Pack up the house, everything; we'll go through it later and see what we want." He barely spoke above a whisper and never looked up as he slowly rocked your baby back and forth.

"Oi sir and your car is ready when you are."

"Thank you, curly."

They left, leaving you and Tommy alone.

You opened your mouth to speak but didn't know what to say, so you stood there like a gaping fish as you struggled to find words.

"It doesn't matter what you say; tonight, you will leave here with me, and so will the baby. You can put up a fight, but we will drug you if we must." The way he spoke, you knew he meant it; there would not be a fight, you couldn't take on Tommy, let alone all the men downstairs.

So you just nodded your head, ok.

Satisfied with your answer, he proceeded to exit the room but then stopped and turned towards you.

"What's her name," he asks.

"Ruby"

"Ruby," He whispers, "Hi. Ruby, grab what you want and meet me in the car," He says, then leaves and goes downstairs.

You want to cry, tear the room to pieces, throw a fit, and just sit there and cry. But you can't, so you make yourself and your daughter a travel bag, packing only what you need and leaving the rest for the guys to pack up.

You finish packing and head upstairs; you walk past the men packing up your kitchen and head straight for the car. Once you're outside, you see a man waiting for you by the backseat door; he opens it for you as you approach it. You walk up to him, handing off your luggage, giving him a smile, and thanking him before sliding in next to Tommy, who's still holding your daughter tight to his chest.

The driver places your stuff in the trunk, runs over to the driver's side, and hops in, wasting no time. He takes off instantly, driving to a destination unknown to you.

You glance over at Tommy, who is still in awe at seeing your daughter. You don't even try to take your baby away from Tommy, knowing that he will hold her as long as he can.

So you sit there staring out the window, saying goodbye to the place you've called home for the past year, and try not to cry.

************************

For a long time, you were confused; you knew this wasn't the way to Tommy's house. It was east, and you had been heading west. You were about to ask where you were going, but then you started to recognize your surroundings, the shops you've walked past hundreds if not thousands of times. You even saw some people you knew past patients.

You were back in Birmingham.

Soon after you cross the line into Birmingham, it doesn't take long for you to reach your destination; you pull up next to many small townhomes.

Before you get the chance, your door is opened for you, thanking the driver as you step out and observe your surroundings.

"Where are we, Tommy," you ask.

"We're home," he says simply, then starts making his way into one of the homes.

You follow closely behind him as he steps into the house; you take in your new surroundings as you follow him; there are steps directly in front of you and a living room to your right that leads Into a kitchen. As soon as you step into the living room following Tommy, you're greeted by a maid who cut you off as you are about to ask Tommy another question.

"Welcome back, Mr. Shebly. I set Charlie down for a nap upstairs a few minutes ago and just put dinner in the oven. Do you need anything else from me before I go"

"No, Mary, that will be all thank you."

"It's not a problem, Mr.Shelby," she said, then went to leave but suddenly stopped at the door. "Oh, and I've had a bassinet put upstairs per your request." She gave both of you a tight smile, shutting the door as she exits, leaving you and Tommy alone.

Tommy doesn't say a word as he turns away from you and walks upstairs; you're about to start looking around when a knock comes at the door. You get to the front to open it and is greeted by the driver, who has your bags in hand. You reach out, taking them from his hands and setting them to the side before giving him a smile.

"Thank you so much; hold on, let me find my purse to pay you," you say as you step away from him in search of your bags.

The driver quickly stops you in your tracks when he calls after you using a name you've never heard associated with you.

"Oi, that's quite alright, Mrs.Shebly; Tommy pays me good," he said, giving you a smile, then shuts the door before you could even correct him.

"Ok," you say yourself as you shrug it off; you turn around just in time to see Tommy walking down the step, and you notice that your daughter is no longer in his hand. You assumed he must've put her down upstairs in the crib Mary set up.

Once he gets down the steps, he immediately makes his way toward the Living room. He sits down in one of the chairs, and you decide to take a seat across from him.

He pulls out his pack of cigs, offers you one, which you accept, and then takes one for himself. His lights yours first, then his own. You take a couple drags of your cig, then begin asking him a million questions you have swimming around in your head.

"How long do we have to stay here," you ask as you blow out smoke and then take another drag.

He shrugs his shoulders as he waves his hand around in no particular manner, "for however long it takes."

You press your lips tightly and roll your eyes; you take a deep breath and let it out as you speak again, "Are we staying here with you."

"Yeah"

"Is it safe?"

"Yeah, you will have two guards stationed outside 24/7."

"And where will you be?"

"Out"

"So Tommy, let me get this straight: I'm supposed to stay here for who knows how long, under constant surveillance from your men, and I'm assuming I'm not allowed to leave." You paused, waiting for an answer, to which he gave you a slight nod back. "Right, so basically, I'm a prisoner; I'm your prisoner. I'm not ok with that, Tommy. I-"

Arthur suddenly burst through your door, calling out for Tommy.

"Oi Tommy, I- "Arthur paused once his eyes landed on you; a big smile slowly crept up his face as he started making his way towards you.

"Sista, it's good to see you," Arthur said as he hugged you, picking you up slightly.

"It's good to see you too...... I'm so sorry about John," you said as you hugged him back, and you were being honest. You didn't miss anything from your old life, but Arthur. After all the years, y'all were around each other. He truly started to feel like the brother you never had.

Arthur pulled back from you slightly and looked you in the eyes; you gave him a tight smile, then pulled him back closer and hugged him tighter.

Arthur pulled back again as he asked you a question, "Oi, I heard I had a niece. Where she."

Before you were able to answer his question, Tommy interrupted you.

"Are you two finished yet" You heard Tommy ask from behind you, making Arthur drop you.

"Sorry, Tommy," he chuckled as he stepped further from you. "There's been an incident down at the boat house; we need you down there."

"Thank you, Arthur; I'll meet you outside," Tommy said, then went into the kitchen to gather his things.

Arthur gave you a small smile and whispered a quick bye before heading outside.

You turn to face Tommy, who is putting on his coat; you see his collar sticking up, so you go over to him to help him fix it. You grab onto the jacket and pull him in close to you.

"When will you be back?" You ask as you pat down his collar.

"When I'm finished"

"That's not cool, Tommy; we have things we need to talk about." You grab on his collar and tighten.

He gave you a look that you could only describe as assumed, then pulled you off him, holding your wrist in his hands.

"And we will when I get back," he said, dropping your wrist and walking away. He suddenly stopped and turned around to face you. "Watch Charlie for me," He said with a tight smile, then reached for the door.

You are so fed up with his bullshit that you pick up the first thing your hands touched and throw it at him.

"Fuck you, Tommy" You screamed at him as the glass cup left your hands.

Your aim is ass, so the cup smashed against the wall next to him, missing him by a couple feet. But still, it stopped him in his tracks; he stood there for a second, then turned around to face you, gave you a smug smile, then said

"You already did love."

He quickly went to the door, leaving you there standing there stunned.

You're so mad at him for coming into your life (again), picking you up, and dragging you into his mess (again). He constantly treats you like gum on the bottom of his shoe, and you're tired of it.

You have this anger building up inside you; you're so mad, so you do the only thing you can think of.

You scream.

You stand there and scream; you yell out towards the ceiling; you scream till your lungs start to burn. And then you collapse onto the floor.

How did you end up here again? You thought you finally got away from this life.

Before you had a chance to wallow in your self-pity, you heard a cry come from upstairs. You get slowly and make your way up the narrow stairs. Once you get upstairs, you notice there are only two rooms upstairs, one the bathroom and the other the bedroom.

You enter the bedroom and see Charlie still fast asleep on the bed, the only bed, you might add. Your baby cried from her bassinet, and you went over, picking her up and rocked her back and forth in her arms. She must've heard your scream and got startled. You were really loud; you're shocked that Charlie didn't wake up.

You were able to get her back to sleep quite quickly; you placed her back in her bassinet and walked out the door back downstairs.

As you walked down the steps, you started to sniff the air around you; it smelled like something was burning.

You took off sprinting towards the kitchen once you remembered the dinner Mary said she had placed in the oven. You yanked the oven open and reached in to take the pan out.

You jump back, saying a million curse words as you immediately pull your thumb in your mouth. You are so out of it that you forgot an oven mitt. You suck on your thumb for a couple of more seconds as you glance around the kitchen till your eyes land on the oven mitt. You grab them off the counter, head back to the oven, and pull the pot, placing it on the top of the stove.

You open the pot, and to your surprise, it's a chicken roast dinner, and it's not that burnt, only a bit; really, it just looks extra crispy.

You place the top back on and glance down at the clock next to the stove; it's barely a quarter past three.

You decide to let the meal cool down, you get your bag from the door, and put it up where you see best upstairs.

After you finished unpacking what you had on hand, you pre-made a couple of bottles for your daughter and then joined Charlie in the bed for a little nap after scooting him over a bit.

That boy sleeps wild.

***********************

You felt yourself being shaken back and forth softly as if it was too hard for the person to push you. You open your eyes slowly and squint as they try to adjust to the dark; you look around the room in search of the person who worked you up, and soon, your eyes land on the smaller version of Thomas Shelby.

The little boy turned his head to the side as she looked at you curiously.

You sat up on your elbows and took a quick glance over to the clock next to you; it was seven on the dot. You turned back and looked over at Charlie, who was still looking at you.

"Yes, Charlie," you asked.

"I'm hungry; where, Da," he asked, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands.

"He's out right now; I'm here. Is that ok," you asked; he nodded slowly in response.

"Ok, good, I have some food downstairs for you; we just have to get the baby up and well go, ok."

"Baby?"

"Yeah, come look." You stood up, grabbed him, placed him on your hip, and showed him the baby below.

"Who that"

You thought about your answer before you responded to him. You didn't see the harm in telling him the truth, so you said, "She's your sister; her name is Ruby."

He turned up to look at you so quick that you thought he gave himself whiplash.

"My sista," he gasped and then tried to reach down to touch her.

"Yep, but wait, be careful, I'll put you down, and I'll grab her and show you."

You put him down softly and then pick up your little girl; she begins to stir as you gently pick her up. You turned to see Charlie sitting waiting patiently with his feet swinging off the side of the bed.

You sat down next to him and turned your body to face him; he glanced down at the baby, up at you, and down at the baby again.

"Wow!" He said, then jumped down from the bed and took hold of your hand.

"Come on, me and baby hungry," he said, leading you downstairs.

Once you got downstairs, you had him sit at the small table in the kitchen, and you kept Ruby in your arms as you fixed him a plate and then yourself. You warmed both plates on the stove and grabbed a pre-made bottle from the fridge while you waited.

You sat down next to Charlie and offered him a proposition: "You want to feed her with me."

He shook his head up and down so fast and tried to reach out to her.

You pulled away from him slightly. "Wait, I'll hold her, and you hold the bottle, ok?"

He nodded and waited for you to give him the bottle; you showed him how to hold the bottle at an angle best for the baby and then let him take over.

He reached over you slightly as he held the bottle to Ruby, and she took it instantly, drinking fast.

After she was finished, you took her back upstairs to sleep; when you came back down, your food was finished warming, so you took both your plates out and cut up the food for him before handing it to him.

Together, y'all both sat at the table and ate in silence.

"Are you my new ma"

The piece of chicken you placed in your mouth instantly went down the wrong pipe, and you started to cough, your eyes began to water as your chest tightened. You reach for your glass of water on the table as you beat against your chest.

As you drank your water, you glanced over at Charlie, who had started playing with his food. You cleared your throat a couple of times as you rubbed against it and drank more water, then set the cut back down next to your plate.

You smack your lips against your teeth as you begin to speak. "Umm, w-what makes you uhhh what makes you say that."

Charlie shrugged his causal shoulders, still glancing down at his food. "You're staying here with me and da; you sleep in the same bed as me and da and your baby’s ma."

You tilted your head to the side, a puzzled look dancing across your face; you leaned down closer to Charlie and asked him a question, "You're four right."

"Yep," he said, popping a piece of chicken in his mouth.

"Um, yeah, no, Charlie, I'm not your "new" ma, and if I was, I wouldn't be your new ma, just another one, ok. Cause you ma Grace will always be your ma."

He didn't say anything back to you, just nodded back slowly; it was clear that he was full now and probably was sleepy again. You assumed that you both had a long day of travel and these significant changes would take a second to get used to.

You took both plates away, deciding that you were also finished eating; you quickly cleaned the plates and placed them in the drying rack. After you put the pot of food in the fridge, you pick Charlie up, take him upstairs with you.

By the time your foot hit the last step, Charlie was somehow fast asleep; you brought him into the bedroom and carefully placed him down in the middle of the bed. You grab the covers, bring them over his body, and tuck him in slightly.

After you check on your baby and find her still fast asleep. You decide to go back downstairs and sit in the living room to wait for Tommy; he should be home soon; he has been gone for hours now. Whatever he had to work on should be done by now……. Right?

You feel your oxygen supply getting cut off, and you start to struggle to breathe; you try to turn your head but to no avail because whatever's is on top of you is keeping you in place.

You begin to panic as you realize that you are asleep and have to force yourself away to be able to deal with whatever is keeping you from breathing.

You feel your fingers begin twitching, then your eyes, and finally, after what seems like forever, you're able to open your eyes.

You squint your eyes as you try to help them adjust to the darkness, but it's still pitch black; you soon realize that the reason you can't see isn't because it's dark but because something lays on top of you.

You lift your hand cautiously as you slowly lift Charlie's body off your head and back into the middle.

You lay there for a second as you try to catch your breath, then slowly, you sit up to check on your daughter, seeing as she has yet to wake you for a bottle tonight. You take a quick peek over into her bassinet.

She's not there.

You quickly shoot up in a panic, thinking your eyes are playing jokes on you, but once you get closer to the bassinet, you can confirm that she is not in there.

You try to take deep to calm yourself down, but it gets caught in your throat as you slowly begin to spiral, and your mind starts to race with a million questions.

Where is she?

How could I not hear someone take her?

When did I get up here?

Wait, you pause for a second and try to think back to tonight. You didn't get in the bed. You remember waiting on the couch for Tommy; you must've fallen asleep, but how did you get up here?

Your head quickly pans over your shoulder, and in the bed next to Charlie, you see Tommy and your daughter lying on his chest and a half-empty bottle on the nightstand next to him.

Relief floods your body as you slowly sit back down on the bed; you look back over at Tommy. The sight before you is truly something; if Tommy wasn't the devil reincarnated, it might make your heart swell. But instead, you're sitting there contemplating whether or not to get her off him and place her back in her bed.

She seems fine, and there isn't much room for her or Tommy to roll around plus the risk of having to deal with her waking up in a sour mood if you move her isn't something you feel like doing right now.

You lay back in bed next to Charlie, deciding to leave them be.

As you fall back to sleep, instead of counting sheep, you tell yourself repeatedly.

That this is just for now and that

Thomas Shelby is in your past and not your future.

***********************

Tag list:

@thhriller@macchiadinchiostro @naevisct @johnmurphys-sass @fannibalsrule @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @sis7890

I apologize if y/n having a kid is a huge turn-off for some people, mainly because there isn't any warning, and we're so deep into the story. I wanted it to be a surprise, but again, I'm sorry. Also, this isn't the last part. There are two more, and then that's it; I broke it down because I felt like having everything In one or two parts would've made it seem like Y/n and Tommy's end result would become too quick and not in a organic way. Also, I've been told this story gives dead doves don't cry or something like that; it's not, I promise, a happy end or as happy as person can be with Thomas Shelby. Anyways, thanks for reading. The story should be finished and fully uploaded all parts by Friday, Feb 9th.

P.S: I can't tell if this chapter is shitty or not I was just trying to get it out for yall so I'm sorry if it is.

#cillian murphy #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders #tommy shelby fanfic #thomas shelby fanfic #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #arthur shelby #john shelby #michael gray #polly gray #ada shelby #thomas shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x y/n

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rootbeerworshiper · 3 months

Text

Normal (part 1)

pairing: fem!character + matt sturniolo

summery: Abigail and Matt have been best friends for years and practically grew up together. the two hiding their feelings for one another, until one stupid drunken dare changes things.

warnings: swearing, suggestive parts, drinking, slight mention of abuse but not too much detail.

this is the first fic i’ve ever written but i actually like it a lot and @sturnswrites convinced me to post it

no idea where this story is going but for now, enjoy!

pt 2 pt 3

love, sienna <3

the first time i saw him was my first day of grade 4. i was new and incredibly anxious. i had always been an anti social child and for the most part i was okay with it, preferring reading books over introducing myself to others. but for whatever reason, it no longer felt okay. i struggled to see all the groups of girls laughing and eating lunch together, for whatever reason it stung.

i was fully prepared to sit by myself, walking over to an empty table with my lunch bag, but that’s when i heard something. well, heard someone.

“hey!” a boy yelled from behind me. after pausing for a moment, i assumed he wasn’t talking to me and picked up where i left off, back to the empty table.

“Chris you’re so dumb how is she meant to know you’re talking to her” another boy said, this one wearing a power rangers shirt

“oh… right” the boy with the longest hair replied, thinking momentarily

i finally arrived at the table and began opening my lunch kit, also looking for my headphones. i liked to drown out the voices of others, focusing on the lyrics of my favourite artists. i grabbed the wired headphones and untangled them before beginning to eat my sandwich.

i thought about how lonely i felt, how stupid i probably looked, eating the sandwich my older sister packed for me in a room surrounded my kids with food from the cafeteria. these thoughts consumed me until all of a sudden i felt a little less lonely.

looking to my left, my brows furrowed. a boy. sitting next to me.

he didn’t say anything at first, opening his lunch kit simply and taking out his snacks for the day. eventually though, he mustered up the courage to speak. “are you listening to black eyed peas?”

i shift in my seat, stomach immediately filling with anxiety “oh um yeah i am” i said quietly biting my lip, looking at the boy for any sort of emotion “im sorry i’ll turn it down i-“

“can i have a headphone?” he says. i wasn’t sure what to do in this moment, is this how you make friends? would he hate my music? did he think i was a loser? i try to shake the thoughts out of my head and focus on the boy facing me, who is now opening up a bag of my favourite fruit snacks.

“only if you give me a fruit snack” i smile, taking out a headphone from my ear and holding my hand out.

“deal” the boy replies placing two orange fruit snacks into my palm and grabbing the headphone. “what’s your name? i haven’t seen you before”

i cant believe this is happening, like at all. “my names Abigail but most people call me Abi” i reply, tilting my head back and throwing the two fruit snacks in my mouth.

“i like that name. Abigail. it has a good ring to it” he says before thinking for a moment. the feeling in my stomach is replaced by butterflies. i place my hands on my cheeks, attempting to hide the blush that’s tinting them “i think i have a better nickname then Abi, how do you feel about Bee?”

a confused look makes it’s way to my face. “like the bug?” he nods his head excitedly. “sure, you can call me Bee” i smile. “what’s your name? you haven’t told me yet” oh god that sounds weird, i’m so awkward i should just get up and go while i can-

“i’m Matt. well technically i’m Matthew but no one calls me that, it’s too formal” he smiles back, taking a bite into the sandwich that his mom made for him.

“well now i need a special nickname for you” i say, biting my lip as i try and think of something. i fidget with my fingers for a moment before i think of something. “how do you feel about Matty?”

“hm it’s okay.” he replies, mouth half full. i feel so stupid he probably hates it “but only you can call me that” this immediately brings a smile back to my lips.

“sounds like we have a deal Matty”

“sounds like we do, Bee”

since that fateful day, i had a friend and well, unbeknownst to me, the friend i made came with two others, Chris and Nick.

the three boys made me feel so much better about starting at a new school, made me feel seen at times where i’d normally feel invisible.

my home life wasn’t great, to put it bluntly it was shit. my mom was working all the time and i barely ever saw her and my dad, well i saw him more than i’d like. he was never physically abusive, and it took me many years to refer to anything he did to me as abuse, but really that’s what it was.

he would constantly remind me that i wasn’t good enough, saying that him and my mom wished i was never born. as you can imagine, it hurt like a bitch. but i always had my older sister there to pack me lunches and write me notes of encouragement. looking back on it, i feel more bad for her than i do myself because she had to endure all that shit and she didn’t have an older sister to cry out to.

when she went off to college i was heartbroken, not that i would ever show it to her.

the sudden absence of a family figure in my life made me closer to the triplets then i has been before.

i was always close to Chris and Nick and they were like family to me, really. but something about Matt always set him apart.

every time he’d ask me to hangout my heart beat would speed up, or when he puts his arm around me and i suddenly feel the same feelings in my stomach that i did in grade 4.

him and i understood each other on a different level, we helped one another in many ways. whenever i had a problem, i always had someone to turn to, and he had the same.

another important thing to mention about Matt is that he was my first kiss.

it was in sophomore year, and Chris had gotten us invited to our first real party, although there wasn’t more than 15 teenagers there, it was still a big deal.

Matt never liked the idea of drinking, said he didn’t wanna lose control. i didn’t like it either, my dad did most of his yelling under the influence of beer, and every time i smell it it’s like he‘a breathing down my neck all over again.

everyone else at the party drank, but it didn’t bother me because i had Matt by my side.

“we should play spin the bottle!” Chris suggests, already 3 drinks in and somehow more confident than ever before. i knew he only wanted to play because his crush was there, so i went along with it.

“sure, could be fun right?” i look to Matt who is internally freaking out. he just nods so i grab his hand and we head to the middle of the dim lit basement.

the drunk teenagers all eventually form a circle on the rug and place an empty beer bottle in the middle.

“who’s going first?” Nick asks, sipping on the random sweet cooler in his hand. “dibs out” he laughs with Alahna, another friend brought to me through Matt.

“i’ll go” the long haired triplet says, running his hand through his hair and leaning into the middle of the circle to spin the bottle

i just laugh and whisper to Matt “i wonder why that is?” Matt just shoots me a shocked look but ultimately joins in on my laughing

Chris ignores us and spins the bottle, landing on Alahna. “bro” he groans, placing his hands over his face

“wow you really know how to compliment a girl Christopher, i’m so flattered” she jokes, earning a snort from me across the circle

“no not like that-“ he begins to defend himself but ultimately gives up “whatever” he sits up and leans across the rug, giving the girl a peck on the lips, both of their faces becoming engulfed in disgust.

“Matt you’re next” a random guy from across the circle says, causing Matt to rub his hands over his face

i put my hand on his knee and speak just loud enough for him to hear “you got it Matty” he just groans and leans forward to spin the bottle

it feels like an eternity has gone by when the bottle finally lands.

on me.

it’s not like i haven’t thought about kissing him before, but this was so… real.

a blush creeps it’s way onto my face which i cover with both of my palms, internally freaking the fuck out.

Chris had his fun teasing us, but eventually something needed to happen. i looked up from the floor to the boy next to me. “we don’t have to if you don’t want to, it’s just a dumb game” i explain, trying to avoid the awkward feeling forming in my stomach from the way he looks at me.

he thinks for a moment before shrugging. “i’m down if you’re down, just a game right?” he doesn’t know how that sentence makes me feel, my heart doing literal backflips inside my chest.

“okay” is all i say when he suddenly leans in, finger making its way to my chin to guide my lips to his.

the kiss is short lasting, but sweet. i didn’t realize i was craving the feeling of his lips on mine until i experienced it.

he pulls his lips off of mine but keeps his hand on my chin for a moment longer, remaining eye contact with me until Nick speaks again.

“okay that made everyone uncomfortable please get a room” he jokes and the game continues on for a while, drunken kisses being shared throughout the group.

but i can’t get my mind off of the way my best friends lips felt on mine, how right it felt. at least to me, it was just a dumb game to him, right?

After that night, Matt and i never mentioned kissing each other again, and everything went back to normal.

other than my feelings for him that i gained that night. i couldn’t get my mind off of his lips, how soft they were, how they fit like a puzzle piece onto my own. it felt like a dream.

but again, we decided to go back to normal.

however, normal, became well, not normal.

stolen stares became more common, and soft touches were now intentional.

unfortunately this didn’t stop him from dating other girls, and i mean why wouldn’t he? he kissed me once in some strangers basement, it’s not like he fell in love with me on the spot.

as his best friend i helped him get girls, telling him all the right things to say and do, constantly wishing he would do those things for me.

i knew i was torturing myself but he was my best friend and losing him was not worth telling him how i felt. so i kept it to myself. for years.

it wasn’t too bad at first. somehow i was able to keep him off my mind for the most part and i tried my best to find other potential suitors, but as you can probably imagine, nothing clicked.

when nick came out to me in junior year i was obviously thrilled, because it meant he trusted me and it was something that brought us together. but i also couldn’t help but feel guilty for not being honest about how i felt about his brother.

so i told him.

“no fucking way” he says, hands rubbing his eyes as if he just saw something traumatizing. i bit my lip, a bad habit i haven’t been able to shake, as i looked to him, awaiting a reaction. “you’re in love with my brother and i’m just now finding out?” he didn’t sound overly mad but he certainly wasn’t happy.

“i wouldn’t say in love” he just rolls his eyes. “i’m sorry! i just didn’t want you to be mad at me and it’s not like it’s ever gonna happen anyways so i didn’t think it was relevant” i ramble, fidgeting with my fingers anxiously. if Matt were here his hand would be placed in mine to calm me down.

“i’m not mad, i don’t think.” he thinks for a second, furrowing his eyebrows before speaking again “when did it start?” he asks

“sophomore year. in the basement” i feel so incredibly uncomfortable but i know that it’s only fair for Nick to know.

he’s confused for a moment before realizing “well shit” he contemplates in his head for a moment longer “i actually see it” he’s smiling now as he looks to me

“see what?” that’s all i can muster up the courage to say, still incredibly awkward saying these things out loud

“well like, i see it. like you guys together, i never thought about it before but it actually makes so much sense” the last thing i needed was Nick feeding into my delusions.

“yeah right, you don’t have to lie to me, i can live in peace knowing it’s a one sided thing that’s going nowhere” i reply, and it’s true. i came to terms with Matt not liking me back a long time ago.

“i’m not lying, i mean he’s definitely too stupid to realize what’s there but i fully believe that there is something there” nick says and i don’t really reply, now fidgeting with the ring Matt got me in freshman year. “but i’m glad you told me, now we can help each other, you find me a boyfriend and i get my brother to like you back”

i audibly laugh “i’ll definitely find you a boyfriend but you don’t have to worry about Matt and i, i’ll move on eventually”

3 years later and i still hadn’t moved on.

i mean it was definitely more of a repressed feeling, but still a feeling nonetheless. at this point it was a little embarrassing.

i tried dating around, but usually i got bored and gave up. i also tried casual hookups but it gets pretty boring having bad sex all the time.

and all of that brings me to tonight, at yet another “get together” with the all of the triplets friends and i can’t help but feel extremely out of place.

other than Nate and the triplets, i’m not actually friends with anyone here, and it doesn’t help that majority of them are influencers. so although i normally don’t drink, i needed to do something to get rid of the anxious feeling in my stomach that brews the longer i stay sober.

some rap song that i’ve never heard of is blasting in the back round and i get lost in my own thoughts for a moment. “you’re drinking?” Chris asks, now standing next to me as i lean against the kitchen counter. before he gets an answer he grabs the solo cup from my hand and takes a sip.

i roll my eyes and take the cup back. “you could not be less obnoxious if you tried Chris” i take another sip, if i could leave now i would, but i promised Nick that i’d stay.

“wow aren’t you just a bundle of joy right now” Chris fake smiles and goes to the island to pour himself a drink. “what’s got you in a bad mood?” he yells just loud enough to be heard over the music.

i’m not entirely sure how to answer the question. oh you know I’m just in love with your brother and he’s talking to three girls at once in the corner! yeah not happening. “nothing really, i just don’t love parties” i say, finishing my drink now to make room in my cup for another.

“mmm sure” Chris rubs my head and messes up my hair, same thing he’s been doing for years and it pisses me off every time, well except for now. i’m too preoccupied with literally anything else to care. “i think they’re starting a drinking game over there now if you care to join”

i look to the group of people who are now in the living room. normally i’d say no right away, especially with what happened last time i played a drinking game, but the alcohol is getting to me and the triplets are definitely not the only attractive guys at this party. “sure why not”

“that’s my girl” Chris smiles, dapping me up and we walk towards the living room together. i try my best to avoid looking at the girls drooling over Matt on the couch.

i’ve never drank before i definitely feel more confident as i sit next to some “influencer” i don’t know the name of, but he’s hot and Matt currently-

has his hand on some girls lap.

awesome!

“okay i think what we’re gonna do is like, truth or dare but if you don’t do either, then you take a shot” Nick explains “any objections?” he looks to me subtly but i choose to ignore him “alright, hm.. Nate truth or dare?”

the boy just smiles and sits up from his previously comfortable position on the couch. “i’ll do truth for now, i’m not drunk enough yet for dare” he jokes, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

“okay let me think” Nick replies, eyes darting upwards as if he’s looking into his head. “where was the weirdest place you’ve had sex?”

the room is filled with laughter and cheers momentarily before he answers. “alright i don’t even have a weird place because i’m not a freak like Chris over there but probably just the car” Nate explains

“i feel targeted right now” Chris says, holding his hands to his heart as if he’s been shot.

i continue to sip on the drink in my hand for a few more rounds before my own name is called by Chris. “okay Abi truth or dare?” he smirks, assuming I’m going to play it safe.

“dare”

my thoughts are confirmed when everyone in the room shares the same shocked expression as Chris. “alrighty then i need to pick a good one” the long hair boy rubs his head, attempting to think of something good. “oh i have one” he smiles and i know it’s gonna be something crazy by the way his eyes glimmer. “i dare you to give a hickey to the hottest person in this room”

my jaw literally drops. as much as i’d rather not suck on someone’s neck in a room full of people, i know that if i take the shot now i’ll never live it down. “bet” i smile, trying to come off as confident although i am literally shitting myself. i look around and of course i make eye contact with Matt.

normally, i wouldn’t do something so irrational, but i’m 4 drinks in and feeling the need to prove myself.

i make eye contact with him again after looking around and i swallow my pride and place myself on his lap. “this good?” i ask him quietly. he just nods and well i get to work, placing a few teasing kisses along his jaw before picking a spot and sucking until i pull away and see a mark. “there all done” i pat him on the head and sit back in my original spot.

“well fuck okay then” Madi laughs with Nick from across the room, a few more rounds go by, some of them literally causing me to piss myself laughing, when abruptly, Matt stands up and literally b lines to his room. everyone makes their remarks on “tuff guy” Matt but i can’t help but feel bad. i’m not sure why i feel guilty, i don’t think i did anything wrong, but i can tell he’s upset and i’d hate to be the cause of it.

just as i’m about to get up Chris’s hand places itself on my leg. “don’t worry about him, trust me he’s fine. you deserve to have fun” he looks at me with a sort of seriousness in his eyes that causes me to slouch back down into my seat.

the rest of the night is filled with my own thoughts about Matt.

was it something i did? was he angry? sad? why didn’t he say anything? where is he? what is he doing right now?

as his best friend i know i should be in there comforting him the way he had done to me countless times but for whatever reason, what Chris said stuck with me, so instead i sat and watched a bunch of dumb 20 something-year olds play truth or dare at 1am. not my idea of a fun time.

authors note: next chapter will be very similar to this one but by chapter 3 there will be fun angst trust🤞

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo edit #matt girl #nicolas sturniolo

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cher-rei · 4 months

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afterglow- pt.1 [ T.A.A ]

pairings: trent alexander arnold x femreader

summary: young and aspiring marketing and business major jamie carter (you) is privileged with working alongside the liverpool marketing and public relations team while also getting entangled with their star player and right back, trent alexander arnold.

[wc: 2.6k] [part 2] [part 3 ] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8]

genre(s): friends?? to lovers, work romance, fluff

notes: I've had this idea on my mind for months but I had no idea how to execute it at all. also instead of using the y/n insert, I gave the character a name even though it is read from your pov. It just made it easier to write lmao

"ms carter?"

your heart dropped at the sound of your name being called by an unfamiliar voice, which was something you were going to have to get used to. nonetheless, you turned around to see an older man approaching you with a warm smile and something in his hand.

when he got close enough he put out his hand and you politely shook it as a greeting, still not sure who you were talking to. before you could speak up however, you were interrupted by something being put in your hand.

"this is your staff id," the older man said and you took a closer look at the lanyard in your hand. the picture you had taken less than a few weeks ago was set neatly inside with your name, and position.

carter, jaime

[public relations manager- social media and marketing department]

public relations manager. those three words were enough to make you feel light headed.

you liked to think that your employment on liverpool fc's marketing team was nothing but pure luck. from the moment you handed in your resume for your university final year internship out of pure whim, then to you getting accepted for whatever reason until you got the email no less than a month after graduation asking you to come in for an interview.

all that lead up to the moment you were currently in. standing in the middle of the empty anfield stadium that you had visited for nearly every home game since you were a child. it was nothing but pure luck.

you were broken out of your daze by the older man chuckling about something, which showed that you hadn't heard a single word he said during the past five minutes. you mustered up a smile regardless to play it off and proceeded to follow him for what you thought was a building tour.

"I just realised that I never properly introduced myself," he laughed dryly and gestured for you to step into the tunnel before him. "I'm billy hogan- chief executive officer and I'm ever so sorry for being in a rush right now but I'd like you to be at the training center within the next 30 minutes."

your eyes widened in shock, your feet absentmindedly picking up its pace while hogan continued to speed through the building tour, leaving no room for questions but you decided to make a mental note to ask someone else when you got the chance.

you were escorted to the black s.u.v along with hogan immediately, running through the hundreds of questions you had at the moment. you know you only had room for one though before he was on another phone call.

"uhm sir-"

"yes ms carter?" the older man addressed without trailing his gaze from his cellphone screen or the pile of documents in front of him.

oh gosh.

you managed to clear your throat. "I'm not too sure why I'll be needed at the training center. shouldn't I be in the office or..."

when he heard you start to trail off, hogan shut the folder in his lap and turned to look at you with an expression you couldn't quite read. there was a moment of awkward silence that passed between the two of you in the backseat of the s.u.v, the driver not paying any mind to the conversation.

"our last marketing manager had to be fired because we found out that he was leaking information out to reporters and news broadcasters along with four other employees."

oh shit.

you shuffled in your seat as you tried to think of a response to the news but whenever you parted your lips to say something hogan would raise his finger as a sign that he wasn't done talking. so you swallowed the bitter taste in your mouth along with any comments and listened intently.

did it sound like he was targeting you and bordelined threatening you? yes, yes it did. but you were sure he meant well and was only trying to bring his point across.

"we're low on staff and that's why you were handed two very crucial roles and are expected to make up for the losses. you'll be working alongside the team as you read in the contract," he began once again with a knowing look which made your stomach drop.

because you didn't read the contract. not fully at least. your older sister was the one who urged you to sign it the second it was sent to your house. hell, it could've stated that you were required to donate an organ and you wouldn't have known all because your were too excited and didn't spare anything a second glance.

"but why didn't you just promote people that were already in the department instead of giving me the position straight away?"

hogan let out a dry chuckle and tended to his phone once again, not looking back at you. "because nobody else wanted the position. it's dangerous up there ms carter. so you may feel important right now, but if you can't handle the workload and expectations it's going to get messy."

well this is news to me.

to sum up hogan's lecture and recital of the contract off by heart, you were in fact set up to be working alongside the team as a higher ranking media representative because there needed to be more field work done. no pun intended.

but the fact that nobody else was up for the position didn't sit right with you.

"just make sure they look good for the camera and keep everyone entertained. you're an influencer yourself, so I'm entrusting you to keep everything in order. you were hired because you are young and are in the game already. so keep yourself level-headed and do your best."

no pressure I guess??

deciding to wear sneakers instead of heels today was by the far the best decision you've made in weeks. the weather in liverpool during september was nothing short of horrid. when you stepped out of the car your face was immediately hit with the harsh and crisp air that reminded you why you spent majority of your time indoors.

"welcome to our axa training center," hogan gestured to the building in front of you, it's ceiling to floor windows having you gawking in awe. "this is where you'll be spending a good amount of your time, but it's not as bad as it seems I promise."

what's so bad about watching a bunch of professional football players train half naked?

unlike your last building tour, hogan actually took his time showing you around this time. from the lobby, breakroom, staff rooms, gym and finally to the field where the team was out practicing-- or at least that's what you thought was happening judging by all the screaming.

the second you stepped foot out onto the field, klopp turned to look at you with a welcoming smile.

did he just sense my presence??

you felt frozen in your spot, the world had practically stopped spinning the second he called you and hogan over. when you made it over he halted his conversation with the person beside him to shake your hand.

"it's lovely to finally meet you ms carter," the team's manager politely greeted and it took every single nerve in your body for you to not do something stupid.

you bashfully laughed and brushed his comment off, "if anything, the pleasure is mine. I am extremely honoured to be working in this position."

after a few moments of getting to know each other and klopp giving you a bit of an idea of what he expected media-wise, you realised that you had work cut out for you, judging by klopp saying, "think of this as your second family. the team needs something different, and you ms carter, are exactly the home improvement that we need."

you felt like the weight of the world had just been put on your shoulders again, and his tone of utter sincerity wasn't making it any less pressurising. of course you wanted to do well and give your all into this role but it was going to take a bit of time getting used to.

I should have read that damn contract.

"would you like to meet the team?" klopp asked with a smile and lightly patted your shoulder.

the gesture alone was enough to render you speechless, and you weren't quite sure if you heard him correctly. "would I like to do what?"

"boys!"

your eyes widened in shock as he called the team over. you didn't know what to do or say, your fight or flight mode had nearly been activated and you swore you were about to sprint out of the training center, all the way back home.

you anxiously fiddled with your fingers, not knowing what to do with your hands as you watched the group of soccer players head your way with little to no care to which klopp gave you a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "don't worry, they won't bite."

you mustered up an awkward laugh, muttering under your breath as you mentally prepared yourself for the moment. you obviously hadn't met any of them before, the closest you had gotten was going to the stadium to watch their matches.

the closest you had gotten to any interaction with any professional soccer player in general however, would be at the beginning of the year when jude bellingham followed you back on Instagram. which was still the best day of your life up to date.

you were awestruck, words unable to form as they all huddled up in front of you. you could see the sweat beading on their foreheads which caused a shiver to travel down your spine.

"boys this is ms jaime carter." klopp gestured to you and you managed a small wave, trying to ignore the sound of your heart beating in your ears. "she'll be working with us from now on, as manager of the pr manager for both the marketing and social media departments."

you were greeted with a choir of 'hello's' and listened to klopp give everyone the run-down and a little enlightenment into the situation regarding the last bundle of staff that had to be cut off so abruptly.

"pfft, snitches."

you head turned to look in the direction of the comment, that was immediately reprimanded.

"curtis," klopp started and the soccer player pursed his lips apologetically.

"sorry boss."

"aren't you a little too young to be the manager of two departments?"

your eyebrows raised at the question from harvey. klopp and hogan had to attend to a last minute call from the clubs directors so you were left with the team to "get to know each other", but most of them got back to training which left you with harvey, curtis and trent.

you shifted your weight to your right leg, your head tilting to the side challengingly as you eyed the boy. "well you're younger than i am and playing professional football. what does me being a pr manager make any difference?"

trent and curtis couldn't help but snicker at your counter, jokingly mocking their younger teammate until he got visibly irritated.

"you can't deny us the right to laugh at you," trent said jokingly and kicked the ball to harvey, who passed it to cutis again.

their banter went on for a few minutes as you watched the ball pass between the three of them until harvey spoke up again.

"you're straight out of university though so--"

his sentence was cut off by someone yelling, "ball!", to which you all instinctively looked up only to realise a little to late that it was headed in your direction.

shit.

you backed away just in time to get the ball before it hit the ground. the second it came into contact with your foot, you sent it back virgil's way to which he gave you a smile.

a familiar feeling stired up in your stomach after, but you pushed it aside and for back to your train of thought. "and you're straight out of high-school. so i rest my case."

a moment of silence took over, trent and curtis both shifting their gazes from you and all the way over to virgil who was over at the goal post.

harvey was taking the moment to recollect your high school comment. it was because he was short wasn't it? that's all people had to throw at him these days.

it was trent's turn to speak up, his eyebrows raised while curtis muttered to himself about the distance or something like that. "have you played before?"

before you could answer, your name was being called by hogan since it was time to get back to the office building. you huffed out a breath and sent the three boys a smile.

"looks like today's 'q and a' was cut short." you took a few steps back, stuffing your hands into the pockets of your puffer jacket. "you might as well stock them up for next time. I'll be more than happy to feed your curious minds."

#trent alexander arnold fluff #footballer x reader #trent alexander arnold x reader #liverpoolfc x reader #trent alexander arnold fanfic #footballer imagine #cherrei writes

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saintvainglorious · 3 months

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10 Best Black Sails Fics I Read in 2023

In honor of Black Sails' 10th anniversary, here's a list of my top 10 favorite Black Sails fics I read in 2023, in order from shortest to longest. Most Black Sails fic rec posts I've seen are now around 2 or 3 years old (though not all, bless @jaynovz and your #jay's esoteric rec lists tag) so nearly half of the recs in this list spotlight newer fics. It's amazing to see fantastic fics still being written and updated years after the show ended - y'all are keeping this fandom alive!

I didn't read that much Black Sails fic this year, comparatively speaking, so I'm sure there's plenty of newer gems that I missed. All the fics in this rec list are Silverflint unless otherwise stated.

1 - Gone To Port Royal by Apetslife (G, 3k) - a delightful oneshot from Gates' POV where they all go to a pirate afterlife. every scene is perfect. endlessly re-readable and never fails to make me smile.

Definition of Valhalla 1: the great hall in Norse mythology where heroes slain in battle are received 2 : a place of honor, glory, or happiness: heaven

2 - i’ll be seeing you by youatemytailor/@annevbonny (NR, 19k) - this is THEE post-canon Silverflint reunion fic. the anguish, the rage, the quiet jokes, the tenderness, it's all devastatingly in-character. particularly the chapter 5 climactic unspooling leaves me in awe upon every reread.

Silver is out of his chair and across the room before he knows it. He has a grip on the barkeep’s shirt before he knows it, and he’s pulling him up, hauling him eye-level, only to head-butt him to the ground again. The barkeep’s mouth is thrown open in a wail, but there’s no sound, Silver thinks, no sound at all, save for the blood rushing in his ears as he looks at the other man on the ground, watches him roll to his side with a groan. Flint, Silver thinks, and nothing else. It beats around the knife in his gut like a drum. Flint. And then Flint is looking at him.

3 - The Dark Lord Proprietor by Amiril/@runawaymarbles (M, 19k, Silverflintham) - a fuckin hysterical supervillain AU. Thomas has amnesia, Flint is pining, Silver tries to get them back together. what could go wrong? could not stop cackling.

A year ago, James Flint was in a stable relationship and was within spitting distance of taking over London. Now he’s single, with a dubiously loyal henchman, a lairmate determined to learn his every weakness, and a Secret Past with the new supervillain on the scene. And thanks to a new government program, it’s all a race to the bottom.

4 - the cross dimensional nassau bar of getting izzy hands laid by FortinbrasFTW/@fortinbrasftw (E, 19k ~WIP~, Flint/OFMD Izzy Hands) - a Black Sails OFMD Flint/Izzy Hands crossover. the very best kind of smut-as-character study. funny, gripping, and endlessly re-readable.

The first thing Izzy realizes is he looks absolutely fucking furious — which yeah, alright, fair enough. He’s got shorter ginger hair. A beard like Izzy’s but kept neater. Earrings like Izzy’s but worn simpler. Bleeding like Izzy but, well, maybe a bit less. And he’s handsome. Izzy realizes it suddenly and slowly somehow all at once. Bit like a bloody painting even. The kind you saw up on walls in rich folk’s houses. Only, well, no painting had eyes like that, did it? You’d have to be mad to keep a painting with eyes like that in your home. They were bright and clear and looked — honest-to-fucking-Christ — ready to set the whole damned world on fire. Izzy's terrible, horrible, no good, very bad night takes an interesting turn thanks to a completely different sort of pirate captain.

5 - frail and fragile bars by Ajaxthegreat/@francisthegreat (E, 21k) - Silver realizes, post-shark date, that he's in love with Flint. an instant, iconic fave fic. SO many delicious scenes and quotes that live rent free in my head. just read it, you won't regret it.

“I think you fuck,” Silver says. By which he means, with great intent: I think you are human. I know you are human. I see you.

6 - the whole estate of mortal man by Amiril/@runawaymarbles (T, 43k) - Creature Silver AU where he'll grant wishes in exchange for souls. first read this fic in 2020 and cried. reread it this year and cried again. the nature of the AU intersects so cleverly with Black Sails' themes, and the end result is devastating.

Silver has a limited memory, an unlimited lifespan, and a need for human souls. He spends months trying to buy Flint’s.

7 - our feast is but beginning by x_etoile_x/@etoilesombre (E, 55k) - Flint teaches season 1 Silver how to cook. they're definitely not dating. no, really. this writer writes dialogue so in-character that it cuts like a knife. features sensual cooking, Flint being a queer mentor for Silver, fun genderfuckery, and Them Being Real Tender.

Flint should walk away. Silver can figure out how to feed the men, it isn’t his problem. But roasting a pig is so easy, and when was the last time he had a hand in creating something rather than destroying it? Anyway, what else is he doing, with Billy taking the crew in hand with such annoying competency? He absolutely does not think about why he is reluctant for this interaction with Silver to end. “Go get another pig,” he says before he can reconsider. “Do exactly as I say.”

8 - With Strange Aeons by Amiril/@runawaymarbles (M, 60k, Silverflint + Flinthamilton + Jackanne) - Came for the Silverflint, stayed for the Silverflint but also for holy fuck Jack and Anne are sent to Savannah and break out of there with Thomas to battle literal Cthulhu. How can you NOT read this. I don't typically read Flinthamilton, but by god Thomas is amazing in this.

After the disappearance and presumed death of Captain Flint and Long John Silver, Max smuggles Jack and Anne to Oglethorpe’s plantation. Thomas learns that not only do the three of them have a friend in common, but he is not the only one whose dreams are haunted by a strange city and a terrifying name. Meanwhile, Flint and Silver try to escape an island trapped in time, impossibly built and impossibly old. Along the way they’re forced question reality, each other, and themselves. And in his house in R’lyeh, dead Cthulhu waits dreaming.

9 - The Salt and the Sea by x_etoile_x/@etoilesombre (E, 60k) - a between season 2 and 3 recovery fic. i still remembered months after reading that chapter 4 in particular left me undone. a harrowing journey into the ruins of post-leg loss Silver's mind, plus exquisite hurt/comfort.

John Silver was always able to make the best of a situation. If this particular situation had started to feel complicated, well, a vast fortune ought to prove clarifying. Whatever he might have imagined he’d seen in Flint, the reality was they had used each other. And he had been set to walk away on top. Except now he couldn’t. Now he was trapped.

10 - the straight walk home by vowelinthug/@vowel-in-thug (E, 73k, Silverflint + Jackanne + Maxanne + Billy/Vane) - A western AU and one of the best long fics in the fandom. Excellent comedy, amazing AU twists on our favorite characters, found family vibes, nail-biting action, and a fucking fantastic climax. Also, I can't believe this fic got me invested in Billy/Vane.

Let me tell you a story, about a vaquero named Vasquez...

#black sails #black sails fic recs #silverflint #fanfiction #fic recs #bsanniversary #10yearsblacksails #10bsfest

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creatingblackcharacters · 2 months

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FAQs!

I go by Ice, she/her pronouns 💕. In case you had any of these questions, here you go:

1. "Why'd you make this page?"

I want to make the creation space- fandom to professional- more inclusive for people that look like me.

It is very disheartening when you really like something, and you see that oh! It's going to include a Black character! And then you get that character and... They're subpar. Especially in comparison to the usually white characters that have so much thought put into them. You accept them because you REALLY want that rep, but... We deserve to wholeheartedly accept our characters too, no ehhs about it.

I wanted to challenge myself, using my amateur art skills and my teaching skills, to convey to creators how that makes us feel, and little things they can do to more intentionally create their Black characters. There's more to us than adding to a diversity quota.

2. "So you aren't even a professional?"

I got 27.5 years of being a Black person on my resume 🤣 jokes aside, I am a self teaching artist. It's only been about a year for me. My more specific goal here is to use my skills to convey a perspective change towards Blackness, not necessarily a "how to do". If you want to learn the specific how-to's of drawing Black characters, there are Black artists all over Tumblr and the web that can show you. I actively encourage you to go check them out and support them, it's a great way to learn as well as to support our community!

3. "But if you're not a professional, why should I trust you?"

Well, again, because I don't have to be a professional to recognize when supposedly Black characters... Don't look like me 😅. Or, in writing, don't have any thought about me behind them. I could show my 87 year old Grandma some art and she'd recognize the issues.

But also, I personally believe that if you start from the foundations thinking about intentionally creating your Black characters, it'll make it much easier for you moving into the future. I am holding my hand out as a Black peer to HELP YOU! There are professional video games and art pieces and projects out there with poorly designed Black characters. The concept clearly needs to be introduced to the people somewhere before a million dollar project is release 🤣 But I can't talk to the people at the AAA studios. I can talk to you!

4. "I don't think race matters/should matter."

Alas, it does, everything we do is affected by our beliefs unconsciously or not- but I'm not going to waste my time and argue with you. This blog isn't for you 🤷🏾‍♀️ this blog is for those who want to take that first step to be better, both as creators and as people. 👍🏾

5. "Do you support AI?"

Not in the arts. Learn how to draw and/or write, it's very fulfilling.

6. "Do you answer asks?"

I do! However, this is a lesson based page, more than an ask based page. If I think your ask can be answered by one of my lessons, I'll refer you to that lesson. If it's an ask that's relevant to something coming up, I will answer it, but you will find more detail in the lesson coming up! I'm only one person doing this, and I can't answer every singular scenario. Also, keep in mind, if you ask me my opinion on something, I will be fair, but honest!

7. Will you be turning on anons?

Okay: right now, we've earned Anon Office Hours Wednesday thru Friday 12:30-6:30pm EST!

Most of this is due to the nature of what I'm discussing. Historically, these topics (and how race is relevant) upset some people, and it can get unsafe. Personally, I have no intention of allowing racists, or those who will take my advice in bad faith, to hide their faces. If you want to hate me, speak with your chest 😤👍🏾

The other part is that it is not a bad thing to ask questions! I did create this blog to be a learning opportunity. So long as you are kind to me and send me asks in good faith, I will be kind to you and reply in good faith. I'm also pretty sure I have the option to answer privately, so if you don't want your question posted publicly, You can say that.

If I get more questions, I'll update this!

#FAQs

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tired-teacher-blog · 5 months

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Characters : Tattoo artist Aizawa/ Florist fem reader

Featuring : Eri/ Hizashi Yamada/ Nemuri Kayama/ Oboro Shirakumo/ Emi Fukukado

Warnings and Genre : Fluff/ Romance/ Smut and Angst in future chapters/ Multi Chaptered Story

Summary : In a desperate attempt to get closer to the tattoo artist dominating every speck of your brain, you decide to pay him a visit one evening as a client seeking his service. This encounter will prove to be the beginning of something much bigger between you two, but will this new found passion be enough to stand against the difficulties your future holds?

Notes : Loosely inspired by this/ Art below is by the wonderful @/ael-draw who gifted me this gorgeous piece.

Masterlist|Second Masterlist|Third Masterlist

Chapter Count : Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6 • Part 7 • Part 8 • Part 9 • Part 10 • Part 11

_ "Nothing looks good damnit!" you whine frustratedly at your reflection in the mirror after trying out the nth outfit and hating everything that has touched your skin.

It's Saturday, the day you and Aizawa agreed upon for your dinner date, but the butterflies in your stomach are clouding your judgement and making you doubt yourself.

You look up the wall clock hanging opposite of your bed and bite down on your lip as you only have twenty minutes left until he's on your doorstep, definitely not enough time for you to dress up, fix your hair and makeup but you have to hurry, and you have to look beautiful, for him..

You glance at yourself one last time before taking a deep breath while many questions race through your mind, will he like this dress on you? Should you have kept it a bit more casual instead? Are you wearing too much makeup? Or maybe too little of it?

You jump up suddenly as the piercing sound of the doorbell reaches you, it must be him..

_ "Good evening, Mr Aizawa," it is him, in all his glory, clad in a pair of expensive looking black pants that hugged his slender legs marvelously, and an elegant white dress shirt with the top two buttons undone, giving you a glimpse of his lean chest. He looks breathtaking, "I hope it wasn't too hard finding my apartment."

_ "It wasn't, you described it perfectly," he replies with a smile before adding, "you look beautiful."

_ "Thank you, that's so sweet of you," you look down at your feet, striving to conceal the deep blush warming up your cheeks, "and you look.. really handsome."

_ "Thanks," he chuckles softly while extending his hand to you, "shall we go?"

You did not expect yourself to be comfortable enough while sharing your life stories with someone you wished to impress, but something about him is making you put your guard down and speak freely even about the silliest and most embarrassing of tidbits.

He is charming, gentle, and an amazing listener, and between the delicious food in front of you and his pleasant company, you're feeling like you've known him for years, and you wish the night would never end.

You're learning a lot about him already, things you have never known before, or expected, things which are making you feel much closer to him.

Your eyes are fixed on the alluring man before you, listening to him eagerly while he tells you about once being a high school teacher for a few years along with his profession of a tattooist and owner of the studio facing your shop.

You now also know that Mr Yamada, Mr Shirakumo and Ms Kayama are his best friends since high school, they've been working with him since day one and made it easier for him to juggle two jobs.

_ "I never expected you to have had such an ordinary job before, and with kids no less!" you're trying your best to control your excitement at this new discovery, "somehow, this makes you sound even cooler than I thought."

He clears his throat and looks away from your blinding smile with evident bashfulness in his demeanor, "it does? Well, thanks."

He's cute, extremely so, and you've never thought the day would come when you would be describing him as such, but here you are, and it's making you fall for him harder each second that passes.

_ "Was there a reason why you had to quit your teaching job? I mean, I can imagine how tiresome it must've been for you to work day and night."

_ "You're right, but that's not the reason why I left school, it was because.." he smiles again, a bit differently than before, as if recalling a sweet memory, "I haven't told you this yet, but I have a daughter from a previous relationship, her name is Eri and she's seven.

A daughter? He's a father? You would have never expected this, it's even more surprising than learning about him being a teacher in the past, but it's adding to his charm and making you eager to know more.

He takes a sip of his drink before carrying on, "I didn't even know I had her until a few years ago, her mom kept the whole thing from me."

_ "Eri.. that's a cute name," you giggle softly while imagining him with his little girl, he is full of surprises, "was it serious between you and your ex?"

_ "It wasn't, we were young and stupid, and broke up after a few weeks of dating, and I didn't see her after that until she knocked on my door one day with Eri in her arms, she told me she was getting married and that I had to take care of our daughter because her to be husband didn't want kids."

_ "It must've been a lot to take huh? Was this the reason why you quit school?" you've been too invested in his story that you failed to notice your face inching closer to his.

_ "I was given a chance to make up for all the time I couldn't be there for her, so I had to make a choice, I owed her at least that much." he traces a finger along the back of your hand, and you almost shiver at the electrifying sensation of his touch.

_ "Is she home now? Who's keeping her company?"

_ "Her babysitter is, a wonderful woman with years of experience and kids of her own who are in their twenties now, so she knows exactly how to take care of Eri when I'm not home or working."

_ "you're an amazing person Mr Aizawa, and Eri will grow up to be a wonderful woman because she has a father like you." the warmth spreading throughout your veins is reaching your fingertips, this man sitting across from you is beautiful, inside and out, he is simply perfect.

_ "You're the one who's amazing," he finally holds your hand in his, squeezing it lightly for emphasis, "you know, I've never really cared about having a partner, and none of my previous encounters were serious because I was afraid of somehow hurting Eri or making her feel neglected, so I was fine just being a father, and promised myself that I will only expose her to people I can trust," he brings your hand to his lips, planting a soft peck there, and lingering for a moment, before meeting your eyes again, "and then you moved in across from me, and I haven't been able to take you out of my mind since."

You bite down on your lip to keep from squealing, as the feeling of his words and his kiss is driving you insane.

His words take you back to that day, when you opened the doors of your shop for the first time ever, almost seven months ago, you were both excited and anxious at the same time, you have put every last penny you owned into it and you were determined to succeed.

It was then when you met this handsome man, the one who has since made your days more exciting as you counted the seconds each day until seeing him for those mere moments that made up for hours of waiting, and here he says that he has noticed you? How come you have been so oblivious to that?

_ "How?" you have to know.

_ "Well, I found it cute when you froze in place the first time you saw me but tried your hardest to look nonchalant as you greeted me, it was obvious you were pretending and I found it endearing." your hand is still in his, and your eyes are following the invisible pattern he's drawing on your skin, because you're not confident enough to look him in the eye just yet.

_ "Tha.. that's not true." and you're pouting now, not for being upset, but rather for being embarrassed to be found out.

_ "I love that your reactions are always too honest," he chuckles heartily, "it shows how pure you are, and makes being with you very comforting."

The heat in your face is raising remarkably as you pull your hand from his so you could lace your fingers together in a rare moment of boldness.

_ "I was right about you all along," you start after a minute of silence, "you are too kind hearted Mr Aizawa."

Your time with him has been magical, the best night of your life, and the bright smile is refusing to leave your face as he drives you home.

_ "I had a wonderful time Mr Aizawa, thank you for asking me out." and your eyes are fixed on the ground as he walks you to your doorstep.

_ "Thank you for saying yes," he doesn't miss a beat as he replies, smiling softly while you both come to a halt facing each other and surrounded by the night's fresh air that's casting a pleasant atmosphere around you, "I wanted to ask you out for a while now actually, but didn't want to make things awkward in case you said no."

_ "Yo.. you really mean that? Then, what made you change your mind?"

_ "It was the moment you barged in and asked for a tattoo, you were nervous, but also quite brave, I was blown away and.." he breathes in deeply, "somehow I thought that maybe a part of the reason why you showed up that day, was because you wanted to see me."

_ "It was, it actually was.." you look into his eyes as you speak, suddenly all bashfulness and hesitation are leaving you, "I nearly gave up on all hope, but I'm glad I didn't."

His shoulders visibly relax as he gets even closer to you that your breaths are now mingling, his hand comes up to cradle your cheek and the cool feeling of it against your heated skin coaxes you into nuzzling it, "can I kiss you?" he requests cautiously, and you nod fervently.

He leans in slowly, pecking your parted lips once and pulling back to gaze into your longing eyes before connecting your lips again.

It's slow and gentle, and the feeling of his surprisingly soft lips is weakening your knees.

You are kissing him, truly, unlike the countless days and nights you spent imagining it, this is actually happening and it's so much better than all your fantasies.

His arms are on your waist, holding you securely and pulling you flush against his toned chest, as you reach yours around his neck to bring him closer and deepen the kiss.

Your lips are moving together in rhyme, and you fight the urge to whimper against him, he's stealing your breath away but you don't mind, you don't have to breathe, you don't want to pull away, you just need to feel him a bit longer.. just a little bit more..

Sadly though, a gush of air slaps your face as he parts from you, and your lips are suddenly feeling lonely without him.

_ "Sweet," he breathes out, half lidded eyes studying your flushed face, "tonight was perfect."

_ "It was." your arms slide down his neck to rest against his chest, and you can feel his thundering heartbeat under your touch.

_ "I'll see you Monday." and he finally releases you from his warm embrace.

_ "Oh, yeah.. right, Monday." it's impossible for you to hide your gloom, Monday seems far away, and that little moment you're used to share every evening as you close your shop and he opens his, doesn't seem enough anymore.

_ "Unless.." he interrupts your thoughts and your ears prick up as you listen eagerly, "I'm taking Eri to the park tomorrow afternoon, do you want to join us?"

_ "Can I really come?" you are overwhelmed with emotions, looking up at him with shine in your eyes and a wide smile on your lips.

You haven't forgotten what he said earlier, about being careful whom he allows near his daughter, and hearing his invitation to share the day with them is more than you can dream of happening.

He takes your hand in his, planting a soft kiss on your skin before speaking, "I'd love that."

_ "Then I won't miss it for the world!"

To be continued..

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bluginkgo · 5 months

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I haven't seen this brought up often. Maybe I'm just not looking in the right places, but... in the teaser for episodes 7 and 8, something doesn't make sense.

It's the Absolute Solver's laughter.

Spoiler, duh

Up until now, when we see Absolute Solver doing something, it sounded it out. For example:

When "N" attacked eldrich J, it said, "Claw swipe. Snarl." As it did those motions.

Then, "Climbing, criss cross apple sauce." As Cyn climbed up.

Even doing, in my opinion, one of the best lines: "Tantrum. Brain blast."

And of course the classic "Well-timed giggle."

All of these instances, the Absolute Solver accompanied its motions with dialogue as it did that movement.

So I'm confused as to why in the teaser (0:33 roughly) the Absolute Solver says: "Hahahaha, thanks for giving me the planet. Fricking idiot."

I actually wanna dissect that single line quite a lot.

First and foremost, why is it "Hahaha" instead of say "Evil laughter." I could only come up with a handful of ideas.

1. It's the Absolute Solver. Somehow it evolved to the point where it now can express emotions instead of just sounding it out.

2. It's the Absolute Solver. But it's possessing something (AHEM- Tessa- AHEM) that allows it to express emotions better than Cyn could allow it.

3. It's not the Absolute Solver. Instead, it's something or someone completely new/or perhaps someone we already know from the show but is only now revealing their identity.

4. It's just a trailer, you're looking in too deep. That could also be a possibility. Given that we see only black screen when the line happens, glitchproductions might have thought that it would be better for us to hear laughter instead of a bland line of just "insert evil laughter." Issue here for me is... I don't think that's the case cause Liam is very detailed. Every d*mn frame in this show is a foreshadowing. That has to apply to voice lines, too. (AHEM, looking at you "robo-satan, robo-Jesus, and robo-god.")

There is a similar sounding laughter at 1:01, just after N yells "V, come on!" But it's highly likely that was not Absolute Solver, and instead some other character we've already heard- be it V, Uzi, J, etc.

Then next question would be: who is the fricking idiot? Once again, I've got some (unhinged) ideas.

1. Uzi, would make sense. She's slowly succumbing to the Absolute Solver's control. If she makes one miss step, it's all over. So Absolute Solver could be directly speaking to Uzi in her mind, like a little shoulder robo-satan/demon.

2. N, could also be him. On the bad ending trend, Uzi could lose herself and Absolute Solver. And just like Tessa said, N would have to choose between one little drone and the universe. If N chooses Uzi, the Absolute Solver could easily speak through Uzi and mock him for giving up the planet and the universe.

3. Tessa, here I'll have to branch out. It could be the current Tessa. Her actions might lead to Copper-9's fall and the Absolute Solver will rub it in her face. OR, this could be another flashback. The Absolute Solver could be talking to a younger Tessa back at the mansion, as some past action made the Absolute Solver start taking control over universes and not just the Elliot mansion.

4. Nori. Omg, Ginkgo you're getting out of hand. Yup, welcome nothing new here. We did get this shot from glitchproductions right after we got the teaser.

Many are speculating that Yeva and Nori are not dead and could be coming back to help our gang out. Thaaaaat'll have to be a separate rant on my side. But with this image, I'm taking Nori into the group of possible "fricking idiot"s.

Given how confident Nori looks here, she must have had excellent control over the Absolute Solver before being completely possessed. Perhaps the screenshot of Yeva and Nori that we're given is a flashback scene. Nori might have done something that essentially doomed Copper-9 from the start.

Anyways, thanks for coming to my rant. Let me know if you guys have some other thoughts. Cause personally, I'm pretty stumped on the laughter part.

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yourlocaltreesimp · 4 months

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All Chained Up

All chained up Masterlist

Last chapter *ੈ✩‧₊˚ Next chapter

Tw: It gets a bit existential

Chapter 4: Nothing gives way to nothing

Your dreams were met with the black void again. It’s hollow and empty, so encompassing that it seeps through your skin, leaving a chill across your skin. It’s hard to move again, your limbs surrounded by what feels like molasses. Your mind feels so incredibly loud with its silence, and yet you feel like you are supposed to be this empty. Made to be nothing.

“It’s you-“ “You're back a-” “Why did you le-” The shadows speak, so many voices layered overtop one another that they press against your skull.

“Where am I?” Your voice is so loud here. Crystal clear and commanding despite your intent of a whisper. You flinch away from your own voice, unfamiliar with its power.

“Home.” All of the shadows unanimously agreed, nipping at your skin. You shouldn’t feel pain in a dream. And yet you feel regardless. The nothingness you were made to express was tarnished by the world that surrounds you until you’re no longer a creation that represents what it was meant to. And your creator turned their back on you, leaving you to rot in a world where you could not possibly flourish. These feelings fester and rot until you’re soft and weak. “She’ll be coming to get you soon” One voice whispers right next to your ear, and even then it sounds like a collage of voices pieced together. The words strike fear and yet you do not know why. Shouldn’t the hands of your maker be warm as they mould you back to the form you were intended? You feel as if you know this connection you yearn for with your creator is one you may never have. “We won’t let her take you away again” It puts its hands over your eyes despite there not being much to cover. One darkness simply gave way to another. The empty feeling falling into another until something changes. You feel the energy shift, a low hum filling your senses and buzzing at your limbs. The blood in your veins burns and your organs push against your bones in an effort to escape. Now you were as she intended. Now, you no longer feel like a person. Were you ever really to begin with?

You awake fully sat up, the sun hardly dousing the land with its light. Time watched, silent as ever. Silent as always, and yet your head was filled with chatter. Noise you could not shut out. Wind’s words played back through your head, how Time has given them orders to not speak with you. Caution was good in moderation of course, but that struck you as odd. His gaze was far off, looking far through you. You pop your sore joints and that light of recognition lights in his eyes.

“Rough night?” His voice was different. It’s still hard and commanding as it always had been, but where you were once met with stiffness, there was give. You found it in yourself to nod, not questioning why your nerves still stood on their ends. Why that harrowing emptiness that gave you comfort was stripped away. “Are you usually visited by bad dreams?” Now that, that struck you as odd. Time had given explicit orders to the others to only talk to you as needed (and even then they’ve broken that rule) and he went to great lengths to ignore you himself. But this genuine concern was a jarring shift of character. The shift of his words breaking you down, isolating you, to his words striving to stave off the darkness that infected your mind.

“More recently, I guess” He nods. You feel uncomfortable, despite the fact this concern should be comforting. Much the way you felt about- you cut that thought short. This would all be over soon. It has to be. You’ve fallen into the labyrinth of your mind and would soon find the exit. Or maybe your old life was the labyrinth. Both thoughts now felt sickeningly cruel. Eventually, that awkwardness is broken up by others waking up, Wild making breakfast and Legend’s begrudging return. You felt the urge to reach out, to apologise to the both of them. You hadn’t seen any man look as haunted as Wild did for the rest of that evening, and judging by the bags under his eyes, you guessed he did not sleep well either. And Legend seemed nice enough. Abrasive, sure, but he was the first to actively try and talk to you. Call it clingy, but you weren’t going to let him burn that bridge. So many things flew under your radar. Wind sat glued to your side, silent and still, much unlike the bright and unruly character he normally was. Legend passed you several looks over breakfast, trying to gauge your reaction to his outburst, trying to see if you were still so forgiving of him. Time’s face paint was slightly more vibrant than it usually was, the rich crimson and azure bright and bold against his skin.

As it turned out, both were similarly stubborn in not admitting anything was wrong. Wild was simply unwilling to talk much on the matter, saying that Legend gets heated sometimes, and assured you to ignore it. He made an effort to at least look unbothered, but no person talks with that much strain in their voice about something their unbothered but. Meanwhile, Legend was unwilling to even acknowledge that he spoke to you at all yesterday. So, all things totalled, You’ve broken Time both the person and the concept, pissed of Legend to the point he refuses your existence and possibly started a whole new conflict. And almost met god on a few occasions, but it hasn't happened yet. At least the forests were more forgiving. The trail was quiet, but filled with ambient noise. Birds whistled their song into the wind as it rustled the leaves to the left of you as water ran to your right. You fell in pace with Wild and Twilight, who’s conversation carried on despite you standing there- you felt a little sad that it was an achievement.

“You seem to be enjoyin’ yerself there, care to enlighten us?” Twilight looked over to you and you found yourself panicked. Mainly because you did not know these people well enough to know what dignified as a good response, and the actual response of ‘I’m just glad you didn’t stop talking when I was walking next to you’ was incredibly incriminating.

“I- uh It’s just been a while since I’ve been able to walk around y’know?” They’re both looking at you know, prompting you to continue. “Between work and school and- well everything, it’s been a minute since i’ve just enjoyed the world around me.” They both nod and you’re grateful for the silence that covers you.

“I get that” Wild concedes, nodding his head. “Before I started travelling I always worked too hard to ever really acknowledge the world until-“ His eyes darted to the trees, his hands caught one of the leaves from a bush and peels it apart with his nails. “One day, The world was the only company I had. And I got to see it for what it’s worth. He smiles at you with understanding, warm and unrestrained unlike how he had been earlier. The closeness of the moment is striking, like it’s the ripple of something already passed. Silence falls between the three of you again, but this time, it’s not nearly as harming. It’s comfortable in embracing the world as it is.

#fir’s library #linked universe #legend of zelda #linkeduniverse #link x reader #yandere linked universe #linked universe x reader #link x you #yandere linked universe x reader #x reader #yandere link x reader #all chained up

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peterman-spideyparker · 8 months

Text

Seven Years (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader) (Horses and Zebras 3/4)

Author’s Note: So I wanted to post this earlier in the month, but my phone just decided it wasn't having it anymore and stopped working, and that old phone was where I had a lot of WIPs, and it's just taken me a bit to find the energy to move it from one phone to another and then edit it, but, it's here! This one is angsty, so strap on your sad pants. Enjoy! :)

Summary: It's been seven years since Matt Murdock broke your heart, and it's taken seven years to push all of the feelings for him away. So when he comes to your apartment out of the blue, it tears those wounds right open again--not to mention the huge secret he brings with him.

Warnings: Angst (seven years of bottle up emotion, hurt, tears, emotional conflict/fighting/shouting, sobbing, two broken hearts breaking) canon typical violence (Matt getting seriously beat up in the black suit and passing out on Reader's floor), sweet delicious tension, swearing

Other Characters: OFC

Word Count: 2,955

You tighten the grip on your bat as you carefully walk from your bedroom down the hall to your main living space. You don’t see anyone, and part of you only thinks you were dreaming of it, but the distinct sound of labored breathing confirms that your was right.

Someone’s in your apartment.

Rounding the corner around your sofa, you see a masked man dressed in all black on your floor. As you raise your bat, ready to swing down on him, he speaks to you.

“Wait!” he pants, feebly holding up a bloody hand in surrender. “It’s me. It’s Matt.”

Matt . . . Columbia Matt?

He grunts and groans as he pulls off his black mask, revealing a face that you worked day after day to forget about. You are beyond confused, but you drop your bat, using all your strength and adrenaline to pick him up and place him on the couch. Once he’s settled, you rush over to where you keep your first aid kit, immediately cutting his shirt open and working to take care of him.

“How did this happen?” you breathe after a long while of concentrated work.

“It’s a long story,” he grunts, his face twisting in pain.

You swallow hard, nervous as you think of my next question. “H-How did you find me?”

“That might be a bit of a longer story.”

“Matt.”

“Just . . . I’ll tell you. I swear. But maybe not while you have a needle in your hand.”

Your lips pull into a tight line as you start to suture a large wound, feeling as if he’s just dodging the question. Doing the best you can to keep down all of the old hurt feelings from college, you finish patching him up and cleaning him.

“Rest here for a while,” you say as you take off your gloves and tie off the bag of supplies waste. “I’ll be back in a few hours to changes some of the bandages.”

“(Y/N), wait,” he starts, but you don’t do as he asks, throwing the bag into your kitchen trash before you rush into your room. Once your door is closed, you start to cry quietly, running your fingers through your hair as you try and figure everything out. Why is he here? What’s going on? Why . . . Why did you help him without a second thought? You’re a doctor, that’s why! But that’s not the whole story, you know that. You helped him so readily because he’s Matt. He’s Matt, for God’s sake. No one ever made you feel like how he did back in college. He was kind, compassionate, warm . . . and a two-timer. But is it two-timing if you weren’t even just a couple but more of a hookup?

“What the fuck?” you whisper, whimpering slightly before you collapse on your bed, tears starting to stream down your cheeks.

As you lie in bed, your mind racing a million miles a minute, something urges you to wipe your eyes dry and sit up, moving back to the living room when you hear him grunt in pain.

“You’re pulling at your stitches,” you say quietly, but it’s clear you’ve been crying. “Lie back down so I can change out the gauze.”

“(Y/N)—.”

“Please.”

He swallows, his eyes blinking fast to fight tears as he does what you ask. Carefully, you pull the paper tape back, using clean gauze and cotton balls to soak up the blood seeping through his wounds. He air is charged with seven years of things unsaid and unresolved feelings, but neither of you dare speak it into existence.

“The stubble is a nice look,” you say quietly as you prepare a needle and some sutures to help reinforce what he’s pulled. “There was something endearing about the smooth baby face, though.”

A small smile pulls at the corners of his mouth. “You’re still using that hand lotion. That special one with the mastic in it your aunt sends you from Greece.”

You’re shocked that he remembers that, but you’re even more taken aback that he can smell it on your skin— you put a little of it on your hands early this morning before your shift today.

“Y-Yeah,” you swallow, doing your best to push down the bubble of emotion ready to burst in your chest. “So . . . Is this a recent hobby of yours? Dressing in black with a mask and getting brutally beat up?”

“(Y/N), you wouldn’t understand.”

“Sure,” you scoff. “What’s another secret, right?”

“Huh?”

You finish tying up his wounds as his brow scrunches.

“Is this . . . This that why you ended things?” he asks quietly. “You thought I was lying to you about something?”

“That’s not a simple question to ask, Matt.”

“But I deserve to know. There were two people in that relationship.”

“I left when there were still two, yeah. It was almost three.”

“What?” he asks with furrowed brows. “Were . . . Were you—?”

“No, Matt, not that,” you say softly, discarding your supplies as you sit down and lean froward, your elbows on your knees whalebone of your thumbs gently strokes the back of your other hand. “There was a girl, she had a really unique rich name . . .”

“Elektra?” Of course he knows. But as soon as the name leaves his lips, his demeanor changes. “What did she do to you?”

“Nothing,” you lie. “I saw the end coming, and I left before I could get burned.”

“You left and you never told me why. Maybe you didn’t get burned, but I did.”

“No, Matt, you didn’t. You didn’t notice. Yes, I completely cut you out, and yes, I stopped talking to you. I didn’t stop talking to Foggy. I heard how you were out gallivanting everywhere with her, throwing everything away for her and the thrill of it. You didn’t miss me for a damn second after I left because I was just a way for you to get an A. You couldn’t have cared less, and I sat and suffered the biggest heartbreak of my life.”

The silence is so thick it could be cut with a butcher’s knife. But you’re not prepared for how fragile Matt sounds when he speaks next.

“You . . . You talked to Foggy?” he cracks.

“I did.”

“Do you still talk to him?”

“S-Sometimes,” you stutter, and you sound just ask broken as he does. “We get coffee now and then.”

You watch as tears glisten in his eyes. “What happened?” he begs softly. “Please, what happened?”

“I told you—.”

“That was a lie, (Y/N). I know it was. Something happened.”

You sigh, wrapping your arms around yourself. “That night, after we slept together, I woke up in the middle of the night. I was so happy, Matt. I was over the moon. Then I saw something out of the corner of my eye, and it was a bright red thong with a note from Elektra for your ‘next adventure’. It was dated two days before we were together.”

Matt’s tongue peaks out over his lips as he works to processes everything you’ve told him. “If . . . if she wrote a note . . .”

“It was in braille, Matt.”

“You . . . You can read braille?”

“We spent so much time together, I learned it for you. You were important to me, Matt, I wanted to be able to be able to share that with you.”

“(Y/N) . . . “

“Please, Matt—.”

“Elektra wasn’t in the picture while we were together. I promise you. After you left, after I couldn’t get in touch with you, that’s when I met Elektra. That’s when that part of my life started.”

“Then how did those panties and note get in your room?”

“I don’t know. But I swear on my life, my law firm, and my vigilante secret that I didn’t know her while we were together and I don’t know how those got into my room.” He takes one of your hands and places it directly over his heart. “I swear. I could never lie to you.”

“But it didn’t take long for you to start seeing her after we—after I left,” you say pulling your hand back. “How can you say you cared about me that much if you went right into her arms?”

His face contorts in pain. “I was heartbroken! I didn’t know what to do! You switched sections of health law, you wouldn’t answer my calls, I couldn’t find you! I thought something awful happened to you! I thought . . .” He starts to cry in frustration. “I was lost, and Elektra was at least something to focus on, because I had an awful feeling in my stomach that I’d never see you again!”

Hurt and rage mix in you as you listen to his words, how he tries to explain it—how he tries to justify it. “You could have tried to find me! You knew where I lived! Hell, you found me tonight, didn’t you? If you could do it tonight, you could’ve done it then! You could have tried to explain things! You would have fought for me if you actually cared about me!”

The silence is deafening, and you shatter as Matt’s face falls with your last sentence. “Sit here and rest,” you say quietly, your tone far different than what it was seconds ago. “Please, don’t move. I’ll be back in a few hours to change the dressing. I don’t want you pulling at more of your stitches. Anymore than you already have, at least.”

Before you can move away, Matt takes your hand in his. Every last function in your body freezes as you stare down at your hand, completely wrapped in his. It’s warm and comforting, and even with the calloused and scars on his hands, they’re so incredibly soft. His face is fragile and vulnerable as he tilts his head toward you.

“This isn’t . . . I-I have a boyfriend,” you breathe as you pull from his touch. “I have a boyfriend.”

“(Y/N)—.”

“I have a boyfriend,” you repeat, but it doesn’t sound like you're trying to tell him a fact. It’s like you’re repeating it to yourself to remind you that you’re seeing someone so you don’t do anything with Matt.

“Do you feel about him how you did about me?”

“That’s not a fair question.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Matt—.”

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“No what? You won’t answer, or you don’t feel that same?”

“I could never feel the same about anyone like I did for you.” You finally pull your hand from his as you wipe away the hot tears that fall from your lashes. “You were the love of my life, and I was a notch in your belt.”

“That’s not true.”

“Don’t tell me how to feel.”

“No—you’re saying I didn’t love you. I loved you more than anything.”

“So you loved me so much you waited seven years to get this all out?”

“(Y/N), I told you, I didn’t know what to do when you weren’t with me in the morning. And then after . . . I didn’t know how to go about it all, and the more time passed, the more it felt like I couldn’t do anything. Stop trying to put this just on me.”

“I’m not trying to, I’m trying to figure this out. Words and actions don’t match up. You’re telling me you were broken and lost when you couldn’t find me. Four days later, Foggy tells me you and him crash a party and then you start doing God knows what with Elektra. I could see you on campus, how you acted with each other. How she looked at you and how you leaned into her. There was affection and tenderness and passion—things that I wanted to have with you. I felt every last strand of my soul shatter when I saw you because every time I did, it told me that I wasn’t enough. That there was someone better suited for you than me. Matt, you have to understand where I’m coming with this.”

He closes his eyes and dips his head. “I do. I . . . I wish I could do it all over. But . . . (Y/N), it’s all so complicated. I want you in my life, and I’ve wanted that since the day we met, but I know the reality. My life—even then—if I kept you in it, you would be hurt far worse than a broken heart. I mean, you saw how I came through your window.”

Your throat is thick as you swallow. “So even then, even in Columbia . . .?”

“No. But my past . . . My past followed me to Columbia. I didn’t know it then, but it’s why Elektra came into the picture. It’s why I’m Daredevil now. If you had been with me for any of that—for a second of that, (Y/N)—you would’ve gotten hurt, I’m sure of it. And if you got hurt . . .” It’s his turn to wipe away tears. “I couldn’t live with myself if you got hurt.”

“But what if you had told me?”

“It’s not that simple, and I know you know that.”

“I don’t mean a casual sentence drop in a conversation, Matt, I mean an actual discussion where we get to talk everything out, and where you can explain things.”

“Even if I had done that—.”

“I swear if you say it’s more complicated that that, I will slap you.”

His eyes flutter shut as he lets out a sigh. “I’ve already told you, though. I’d expose you to the possibility of getting hurt if we did that.”

“How would that be different than what we’re doing right now, Matt?”

He opens his mouth to respond, but his jaw just hangs, unable to form a sentence because he knows you’re right. He lets out a breath, his eyes blinking rapidly as his tongue pokes out to wet his lips.

“I can count on one hand the things in this world that are most precious to me,” he starts softly, holding up the hand on his good arm. “Foggy, helping others, my faith, and you. If I did something to jeopardize any of those in any way . . . I’d be questioning who I am as a person.” He grunts in pain as he sits up, his labored breathing evidence of his determination to get it all out, and for once in his life be vulnerable to someone that matters to him. “I thought that when you left, maybe it was good, you know? That you could see my red flags before . . . Fuck, I don’t know. And then when I started doing this . . . one night, I just remember thinking over and over, ‘I’m so glad (Y/N) can’t see me like this now. It would kill her.’ Not just my bruises and cuts and scars, but what I became—what I am. Part of myself disappeared after you left. The happiness, the light . . . it started to disappear when I woke up without you in my arms one morning, and I’ve never been able to find it since.”

“Matt,” you breathe.

“I want to find it again. I want to find that happiness I had with you in college. But I can’t find it without you. Being here talking with you, I know that, now. I need you. Don’t go,” he say softly as your noses rest together, your lips extremely close together. “Please don’t go.”

As your brain misfires with his words spinning in your head, his touch intoxicating your senses, he squeezes your hand and pulls you close, pressing a deep, tender, urgent kiss to your lips. He’s begging you not to go, silently pleading for you to change your mind about whatever you’re thinking of that doesn’t involve him.

“I can’t loose you again,” he says against your lips. “Please. I can’t survive that again.”

“Matt . . . This isn’t the right time.”

“It’ll never be the right time. But there’s a reason that I got hurt near you home. There’s a reason why you helped when you could’ve turned me away. There’s a reason that we’re still talking. Please, please don’t go. Stay with me. Let’s . . . Let’s figure this out. Please.”

“You said that you can’t survive loosing me again. But I gain survive getting hurt like that again.”

“I won’t. I swear I’ll never hurt you like that, I’ll never let you get hurt like that again. I just need you.”

It breaks your heart how the tears stain his face, his eyes even puffier from the drops he refuses to let fall, telling you that you hold the last glimmer of hope he has.

“I . . . I—,” you start when your phone begins to ring. Glancing over, you see your phone light up with your boyfriend’s name on the screen. Pulling your hand from Matt’s, you go into the kitchen and pick up.

“Hey,” you say softly.

“Hey, baby,” he says, his words laced with exhaustion. “ER is short staffed.”

“What else is new?”

He lets out a soft chuckle. “I’m not getting out of here for a long while. I’ll probably be leaving the ER when you walk into the lobby in the morning, in all honesty. But I’ll see you tomorrow night, okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you,” you hum. “Remember to try and take a rest if there’s a lull.”

“Always looking out for me. Get some rest yourself, babe. I’ll see you.”

“Night, Chris.”

When you turn around, you see that your couch vacant, Matt absolutely no where to be found. Feeling your lip quiver uncontrollably, you drop your phone and fall to your knees, absolutely blubbering, your heart shattering to pieces just like it did all those years ago. Only this time, you’re the one who is left behind.

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