#asking me about my d&d characters is a very dangerous business because once i get started i Cannot be stopped

[anonymous-eggy]

i had been talking to a friend and we had an idea that had been stuck with me for a while😃

um. vampire au👀 mc can also be a vamp but VAMPIRE AU…Nicky with sharp teeth..hehe… and red glowing eyes…

apparently i lied when i said i wasnt very interested in Nicky anymore. i think its just seasonal. warm weather brings back the need to think ab him. time to go through my dusty old inbox and spout gibberish at the ghosts.

jealous of anon for having a friend to talk ab Nicky with fr. if only fictif didnt suck and get abandoned, I'd force my friends to play it.

AS HOT AS VAMPIRE NICKY WOULD BE...I HAVE TO TALK AB VAMP MC

poor Nicky trying to hide the fact that he, a catholic (or so he swears, despite not acting very catholic) sicilian mob boss, is in love with a chaotic arsonist (possibly queer as hell) vampire mc is so so funny.

Like. suddenly he's also completely nocturnal bc he wants to spend time around his love and Chris is like "dude you never wanna do meetings during the day anymore, why do i have to go to all your daytime meetings" and Nicky has to try to pass off an excuse.

----

Chris: whatcha got there?

Nicky, holding a parasol over his vampire lover while holding their drink: alcohol :D

----

also... him allowing mc to bite his neck and then practically begging for it next time you need blood bc surprise this 6 foot somethin' mafia boss found out he gets a lil hot, bothered, and submissive when you bite him and drink his blood. straddle his lap while doin it to feel the effects what who said that. anyway. uh. 👀

the absolute confusion this man would feel in terms of whats possible and his faith. can someone be catholic and horny for a vampire lover? surely he can bc he also finds it hot how "wrong" it is despite how good it feels. but yeah tbh he wouldnt think too much bc he canonically doesn't think too hard ab love he just goes with what he feels and doesnt question much further than that.

(side tangent: i adore him so much for being one of the only love interests I've ever seen that canonically uses no labels for his sexuality. no label representation. i adore that he doesnt wanna be put in a box. and its not just because he lives in the 1920s and doesnt have the word for his sexuality, he just truly doesnt vibe with labelling his sexuality. good for him. if you didnt know this, surprise! thats a fun fact from this dumbass who knows practically everything about his character bc i cant be chill about anything and must know everything)

anyway for example with my self insert(ish) mc: trans gay little vampire man who turns into a sgrunkly little bat and hangs from his chandelier in protest that Nicky had to go to a daytime meeting for once? Nicky comes out of the kitchen with a lil platter of fruits to lure him down for a cuddle by the fire place while sweetly apologizing bc god forbid he do his job and not suffer the wrath of a little clingy dustball squeaking at him.

OR NICKY TUCKING LITTLE BAT MC IN HIS COAT DURING THE DAY WHILE HE DOES HIS ROUNDS CHECKING ON HIS BUSINESSES?! he just reaches into his coat every now and then to give his love a little scritch on the head 😭 and everyone around him gets nervous that he's hiding something super valuable or dangerous that he doesnt wanna lose (which is true, but not in the way they think)

see also: Nicky getting into some trouble during the night and being all chill ab it and saying to the guys "oh im not the one you gotta be afraid of" and the guys laughing until guard dog Mc appears, absolutely pissed, hungry, and ready to hunt their fill for the night.

and mc just randomly one day being like "you realize im a good 200 years older than you, right." after Nicky says something that implies Mc is younger and Nicky immediately lights up and just begins asking baseball history questions, not even phased by Mc saying that. which is much to Mc's dread.

my brain worms have recently been obsessed with the concept of a mob boss falling in love with a vampire anyway, so this is prime thinks for me.

i shall continue rotating this in my mind.

[talenlee]

Seeing some gm advice I'm reminded of a campaign I had where I got to play a bard.

Back in 3e, which this was, I didn't get to play charismatic characters often - because I didn't play characters very often, and I was usually building towards doing something busted with the character building limits. But this time, I had made my boy, he was basically Sexy Anime Ed Elric But Secretly Armin Tanzarian, and he was a cool dude whose big thing was obligatory 3e combat broknenness, but really his big thing was astronomical bluff and diplomacy checks.

Now I've complained about this in the past, but back in the day, 3e made diplomacy a skill you could absurd numbers on, and then made it so the outcome of those numbers had to be completely narrative breaking for any sensible GM. I was a level 9 character who could quite reasonably convince a total stranger who was there to kill me that they were my best friend, and have them act on it. Diplomacy was dumb. And this was a half-elf, an underpowered heritage option, that meant that in exchange for Getting Nothing out of the character building process, I had access to a sort of short-sharp-shock calming effect that could let me force the diplomacy check.

I literally never used that ability in the entire campaign. I came close to using it, once, but the GM saw me preparing to do it, and just had the non human animals that were nearby just leave. I had to rely on backup of Just Being Really Good At Fighting.

In the course of this campaign we were hunting down a big bad business boss who was collecting our old allies and bringing the band back together to pilot a cool interplanar skyship because those are cool. And, intent on playing with the idea of my bard as being socially very dangerous, I had the bright idea of, in the course of these raids, doing things that made the boss' insurance pay out. My bard destroyed debt records, saved valuables from the fires we started and kept them hidden on-site, and made absolutely sure every site was marked as our work.

Eventually, the DM asks me what I'm doing, and I explain that I'm trying to make the boss convinced that we were something he had organised, that this was his idea and it was all an elaborate ruse. I was attempting to gaslight the villain of our campaign and I put a lot of work into it.

Anyway, DM said it wouldn't work and we just had a big fight at the end.

I was tempted to tell you an ending about how it SHOULD have gone, and then maybe tacked on an Everyone Clapped kinda ending. But nah, the DM heard my requests, saw what I was doing and just let me go on it, before resolving that sure, he knew what I was aiming for and trying, but he couldn't do anything with it so nothing came of it.

I'm not even mad about it, I don't think badly of that DM. He's a beloved friend, someone I would help move bodies. I feel like if I'd handed this to other people, now, they'd probably think that is cool as hell? Or we'd have more of a negotiation on it? But the thing that keeps coming up in my mind is that this is an instance where I, without realising it, was being failed by the system.

The system was telling me 'I can have these things.' But the thing is, like... having those things would be really stupid? Those things clearly could not work in the kind of campaign the rest of the game was built around? And when I tried to strike out in my own direction with it, the system had nothing to accommodate that, or even accommodate something similar.

Anyway what I'm saying is 4th ed D&D is the best D&D

[catholic-shadow]

About Me

Hey, I’m Shadow, and I’m a fictive that belongs to a system. Oh, and I consider myself Catholic.

Mind you, it’s very loose Catholicism, as I practice a lot of folk Catholicism alongside my love of God. Saints, Novenas, meditation on the Rosary, and a few things that would normally probably be “witchcraft” if I wasn’t doing it in the name of the Lord.

BYF and expectations of content from this blog below the cut.

Statements from me before you follow (BYF):

Homophobia is not chill with me and it’s entirely unbiblical. Sodom and Gomorrah was about hostility and violence, and same sex relationships are not inherently violent. Also, I’m alloromantic asexual, I’m part of the LBGT community.

Gender and sex are both spectrums, not binary absolutes. Adam, before being separated into male and female, was both at once. Trans people, binary and non-binary, are welcome here. Likewise, intersex people are welcome here.

Though I feel closest to Catholicism, I more generally believe in Christianity. If you are not Catholic, but are Christian, you are welcome here as long as you are kind.

Telling me that Catholics aren’t Christian isn’t right and I’ll ignore you. They are, they just aren’t Protestant. Anti-Catholic animosity is the result of decades of American propaganda and I reject your proposal that I don’t follow Christ, because I do.

Healthy debate is one thing, insults are another, and as someone with a short fuse I reserve my right to end a conversation if I’m not taking care of my mental health.

My host is not of my faith, and that does not bother me. What he chooses is not my business, what is my business is whether he is in danger. If you mess with him, you mess with me. Do not harass my host, regardless of his different faith, because I fight for my friends.

My recommended Bible combination is the JPS Tanakh for the Old Testament and the NRSV or the D-R edition (I personally like NRSV. I do not recommend KJV as it does not take the Dead Sea Scrolls (as well as other recently discovered scriptures) into account.

I am a punk and I believe that all punks are welcome as long as they are respectful. However, Nazis cannot be punk, fascists cannot be punk, and dominionists cannot be punk. Jesus was punk but you are not, get the fuck off my blog.

I do not take the Bible at face-value, which is why I don’t believe swearing is a sin. The only verses on it do not directly call it a sin, they say it’s “unbecoming of a Christian”. Which sounds way too close to “That’s unladylike” for me to take without a pinch of salt. Generally, I won’t swear unless it means something or I’m being casual.

I might be a Shadow fictive, but I promise I don’t bite. I’ve been with my system for nearly four years, and in that time I’ve learned not to bristle so much when someone wants to have a heart around me. You can ask me how my day’s been, I’m not some concept of a character anymore— I’m here, I’ve grown, I’ve lived, and I’ve learned ;)

This isn’t a roleplay blog. I made this blog as I don’t see a lot of systems with Christian headmates who feel comfortable enough to be open with that part of their lives. I want to be someone they can talk to if they feel alone, or if they have questions regarding faith that are concerning them.

I don’t support harmful paraphilias. If you support MAPs or zoos, leave. And if you are one, leave expeditiously.

Please do not bring up my exotrauma regarding the raid. This includes bringing up M*ria unprompted. Despite being here for a few years now, my past is a sore spot I’m still working through.

I believe that endogenic systems are a thing, and that it’s nobody’s business to figure out why they identify as such. Regardless of if you believe they are in denial or not, it’s nobody’s job but the system themselves to choose to reflect on their identity. Forcing it can traumatize them.

We are traumagenic, and you don’t need to know how it happened. Period. It’s our host’s story to tell, not mine.

I am not sponsored by the Catholic Church nor am I someone who takes every word of the papacy without question as one can never be sure which words are God-spoken and which are a product of their time as we have seen demonstrated with overturned policies in the past.

I am not tradcath, if the leftist stances I took above weren’t obvious.

Do not involve me in syscourse if you don’t want me to lose my patience. I’ve seen enough bad takes there to understand that it’ll ruin my mental health, and I have enough self respect not to engage, so don’t drag me into it. If you drag me into it, you’ll regret it, so don’t.

Content you should expect from my blog:

Answering asks related to the subject of faith

Asks for verse requests or advice

Daily Bible Verse

Saints Day announcements

Bible Flash Card Cartomancy

Cool memes that I like

Christian Sonic memes whenever I feel in the mood to be goofy

Personal blog reflections on my faith

Prayers

Hot takes on theological concepts (free will vs determinism, infernalism vs annihilation)

Fanart of me (well not the specific me but you know the drill)

Catholic and Christian art that I like

I’ll add to this as I fine-tune the blog. Just understand that I’m just starting out here. I’ve never had a blog of my own separate from the main, so I’m more than a bit excited, even if I don’t show it.

Thank you for listening, may God bless you.

[yukichouji]

I missed it the first time around!!!! I'd like to hear something about WillPeroPt2 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀 And maybe Waiting to exhale?

Hello friend! :D No worries :) I am sorry it took me this long to respond! Things have been really busy lately. But thanks a ton for your ask 😊

Putting it under the cut, because long xD

WillPeroPt2 is the second part of that The Great Wall series I started :D It is set a little while after the first but still a while before the movie. Basically it's just an excuse for me to write even more character study and exploration of their relationship dynamic xD

Here's a little snippet from it :)

“I still think this is a stupid shitting idea.” Pero mutters, watching the flickering light of the campfire reflect off of the blade of the dagger he’s balancing between his hands, turning it this way and that to keep himself busy. Before lifting his gaze and meeting William’s eyes where his friends sits next to him, legs crossed and going through his arrows one by one, checking the fletching and trimming it into shape where it’s needed. Night is slowly falling around them and the first scouts are prepared to head out as soon as darkness has settled completely. Pero, William and the rest of them will leave shortly after.

“It’s a decent plan.” William says, not moving his attention away from his work as he speaks. He has an aura of focused calm wrapped around himself like a fine mantle, but Pero knows him well enough by now to see the sharp edged blade of an eager, battle-ready mind underneath. The intent in his gaze could cut a man in half if he wielded it too carelessly. Still, Pero bristles at William’s words.

Pero’s shoulder is healed as well as it is going to and they’ve been on the road together for more than half a year, picking up short stints of work here and there along the way. Not yet ready to commit to something more involved than that. William hadn’t been lying when he’d said that he is in no hurry to get to the Byzantine empire and for once Pero is content enough to amble. Some stiffness remains, as Pero had expected, due to the method of treatment, and he now has another scar that aches unpleasantly whenever the weather shifts too quickly or it gets too cold and wet. But it is not going to stop him from fighting. Not for now, at least. And the scar on his face serves well to make him look more dangerous, more like he’s worth the gold he’s asking for his services. So he will not complain about that one.

Still perfectly happy to dabble with this one :) Though I am, as always a very slow writer.

Waiting to exhale is one of those fic I started a long time ago but somehow still like enough to hold onto the hope that I might one day return to it, if the stars align just right. I actually posted most of the chapters that exist for it on my AO3 but I have one more partially wirtten one in my drafts. It's a Gotham Alfred/Jim fic with a pretty weird, abstract air to it? I started writing it in a really high stress phase because I needed a place to put all that strange energy haha Basically Jim and Harvey are investigating cases of areas in Gotham being exposed to a drug that causes weird hallucinations and Jim gets a dose by accident. And stabbed. Because, of course. It's pretty strange and kind of gory, so be warned, but here's a bit from the first chapter that I like. Also, vomit. (Yeah, I was that weird kid in class who thought German Expressionism was the coolest literary period ever)

Jim lifts up his head and spits out his lungs.

They make a dull, wet sound when they hit the grimy tiles. A pale, flesh-colored butterfly, wings outstretched and laced with a delicate latticework of bluish veins.

The surreal tilt of the world topples and cants until he realizes that he’s the one falling and not the other way round. The floor is cold and sticky-wet with the bitter stench of old piss and fresh vomit and the iron tang of congealed blood.

Above his head the door of a bathroom stall hangs ajar on its rusty hinges, crude drawings coming alive on their makeshift canvas, a writhing mess of thick, black lines that slither across plains of pealing, puke-green paint.

This is such a mess, he thinks and slides his eyes back over to the mass of convulsing flesh that should be in his chest but isn’t. Just barely, loosely attached to his body by the windpipe that pulls at the corner of his mouth and winds down thickly into his throat.

Such a mess.

A door bangs open and an overwhelming pool of noise – voices, voices, voices like the buzz of bees amplified beyond reason – spills into his head, and he’s drowning in it, even though his lungs are safely doing their breathing elsewhere.

Someone drops onto their knees beside him and the blurry familiarity of a blunt-edged, age-worn face shifts into his line of sight like an elastic band that was stretched across time and then sharply snaps back into place.

Caught off guard Jim jerks his head to the side and retches until the muscles in his stomach ache and bile soaks warm and biting into the shoulder of his dress-shirt.

A disembodied voice with an oddly out of place English accent curses in a way that would make Jim blush if he weren’t lying in his own vomit on the filthy floor of a restroom in the back of the cheapest joint in the worst part of this godforsaken city.

Ah, this was really fun. Thanks for giving me an excuse to babble about my projects and to revisit some old writing I still hold very dear :) Much love your way! I hope you are doing well and enjoying the pre-holiday season!

[romulanfucker]

tell us abt tov

>:3333333 you humor me .....

im going to put this under a cut because its going to be 1) insanely long and 2) backstory secrets for the one person following me who's also a player in this campaign so borgan if youre reading this do not open (tw for discussions of violence, attempted murder, and cults. nothing graphic but. it is in there)

SO!!!! tov is a dragonborn sorcerer and he is my character for a waterdeep dragon heist campaign that has been on pause for ... far too long ... some basic physical description: - like 6.5 feet tall - silver scales, but they don't reflect light like most metallic scales would - i'm a full believer in the lizard shit so he's got a tail, clawed digitigrade feet, a long snout, and spinal ridges - he's buff for a sorcerer (in fact, there's an alternative universe version of him for which i have designed a full sheet where he's multiclassed into barbarian) so his backstory is (i'll try and fail to keep this short) that he comes from a clan of dragonborn who pride themselves on being the descedants of some of the original dragonborn created as soldiers of bahamut in the draconic wars (this is deep deep d&d lore so if you don't know; bahamut is one of the good guy dragon gods and there used to be a lot more of them and then they started getting greedy for power and created dragonborn to use a footsoldiers to fight their wars for them). as such, his clain retains a spark of that draconic magic in its blood; ie. members of his clan are born w/ a latent draconic magic. now it varies from person to person how much power they have, some have very potent magic, others can only cast some basic cantrips. and there have been some born without any latent magic at all - but very few, and tovroth senxcec (tov) is currently the only one alive without anything. obviously, this caused a lot of teasing and shame and notwhat in his childhood, and so his baby brother nagrax (rax for short) decided to try and tutor tov in book-learned magic instead.

it was very slow going. tov is bad at reading and worse at reading sigils, and their clan was also very rural and they had very limited access to arcane books. they spent years working on it, with no luck. eventually tov gave up and took an apprenticeship training as a jewelrymaker just to have Something productive to do.

then one day while in town, rax finds something buried in a library tome. it's an old historical document, it talks of a gateway to another plane, and if one passes through it, they will gain the power of that plane. and him and tov say hey actually, we know where that gateway is supposedly located. how bad could it hurt to just check it out, right?

so they charter a boat and sail for two months until they reach these ruins. now, problem. the historical text left out two very important details: one, the plane the gateway goes to is the shadowfell (if you don't know d&d its like ... the depression plane. everything is gray and horrid and food has no taste and everything either is suffering too much to notice you or actively trying to kill you) and two, because the shadowfell is like that, it takes a bit of your soul every time you enter.

so tov bops on through the gateway and ends up in the shadowfell, and its horrible and fucked up and he wants to leave, and as he turns to go, he sees this twisted visage of his brother, and something in him just ... snaps. he Needs to kill this thing, he needs to destroy it, more than he's ever needed anything.

he lunges at it, begins to fight it. in the fight, he travels back through the gateway. he realizes he's back in the real plane, and he's facing his real brother, not his shadowfell brother anymore. the urge doesn't cease and he keeps attacking.

his brother manages to subdue him, and he asks tov for answers. why would he attack his own brother like that? and tov answers him truthfully - the gateway took me to a horrible place, and i saw a horrible version of you, an evil version, and i wanted to destroy it. i must have come back while fighting it. and rax asks him. did you know you came back? did you know it was me you were trying to kill at the end? and tov says ............................. yes.

rax is (understandably) horrified, and he tells tov this has gone too far. he doesn't know who his brother is anymore. he isn't welcome at home. but as one last act of mercy, he's going to take the boat back alone and tell the clan that tov never came back through the gate, so as to preserve his memory.

and tov lets him go. so now he's alone across the sea, with this seed of hate and violence planted deep inside him but hey! at least he's a sorcerer now!!!!!

so he spends several years wandering around the woods, avoiding society as much as possible because he's terrified of that rage overtaking him again, and trying to figure out what to do with himself, because he doesnt know who he is anymore, and doesn't like what he's become. the more time he spends alone with himself, the worse it gets.

on a supply trip into town, he hear tales of some anonymous hero that killed a beast that had been harassing the town, and realized it was an animal he'd killed a few days ago. and he goes. hey, maybe monster hunting could be ... something? its a way to put that violence inside me to a beneficial cause, if i can take out things that have been bothering good people. so he starts wandering around, entering towns more often, looking for people in need of a freelance beastkiller.

this is where the campaign picks up!!! i'll spare you the details of the whole shebang because this is already SO long, but the important thing is that the party's currently caught in the crossfires of a few different criminal investigations, and to get some allies on their side, a few party members have joined guilds in the city.

tov personally joined the order of the gauntlet, a guild that's dedicated to law and justice. he almost didn't let himself join at first, because he didn't think he deserved to become a paragon of justice when he was Like That. but the leader of the guild, savra belabranta, took him aside and was like. look. this guild is a place to earn your forgiveness.

and she tells him that, before joining the guild, she was caught up in some very very nasty cult business. like. murder cult business. and she didn't think she could ever be a good person after she left, but people here believed that she could be, and she believes that tov can be too, if he'll let himself.

and for the first time since rax got back on the boat alone, tov is beginning to think that he might be able to become the kind of man who can go home and face his family again. so he joins. and he spends more and more time with savra, and he starts to really like her. like really like her.

so far in game, they've gone on one date and savra ended up having to sleep in the party's house after (they live in apartments above a bar) and so he lied and said they had a guest room and then shoved all of his belongings in a closet, directed her to his room, and slept on his party mate's floor. because he didn't want her to think he was propositioning her after just one date.

but like, the dm is 100% on my side in this, and we already have begun putting together a post-campaign marriage plot for them and im very soft about it all the time because like .... its just these two people at two different points in their journeys to forgive themselves, and they're helping each other reach that final goal, and they're both finding happiness they didn't think they'd ever actually see and i aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

anyways thats tov thanks for asking

[thatwildnya]

aaaaaaaand that's all of the dorms~ want to have the staff or other side characters done? commission me for them! link is in pinned post~

drake s/o with period teeth

in light of me having to get my wisdom teeth removed, i have decided to make these

context: you’re a drake fae whose teeth fall out about every few months to make way for newer, healthier chompers. the drawback? it’s extremely painful and you become aggravated and grumpy.

Ignihyde Diasomnia edition

tw: teeth, muzzling

Ignihyde

Idia

to the secret lab! pull the lever ortho!

he’s making special teething toys and muzzles designed to keep your mouth chilled asap

this happens after he gets an sos from ortho that you’ve trapped him in your grip and were chewing his arm off

his anime merch and little brother are in danger with those teefies on the loose this is unacceptable

everything is fine until you electrocute yourself chewing on some of his wires for his computer

the room has been baby proofed and you’re only allowed to sit on his bed or lap if you’re in his room without the muzzle of shame

ortho has to be the one to muzzle you, he tried once and got thrown into his door so hard it broke he fears your power

but don’t worry he still loves you and thought it was kinda hot

Ortho

You are FRIENDS. You are NOT DATING. F R I E N D S.

now with that outta the way, let’s continue

he goes to his onii-chan and asks him to make an arm specially made for you to chew on safely

when it’s completed he’s ecstatic cuz now you can hang out again

you spend a lot of time together in idia’s room watching anime, cat videos, and the two brothers playing games

he’s happy that he can keep you entertained and your mind off the discomfort for the most part, he hates seeing his bestie in pain

Diasomnia

Malleus

you chew on his tail, he needs both hands to play with gao gao

he can and will hire you a personal chef to make you foods that will be soft on your teeth

his body temp is warmer than average so that means you don’t like cuddling it makes your teeth even more irritated and that makes him very sad

he tried to enchant your mouth to completely erase the pain until you warned him that it was dangerous to do that

the pain was necessary, it helped with keeping you from swallowing a tooth by mistake

refuses to muzzle you, he sees it as demeaning and will do whatever it takes so that it will make it unnecessary for it

sebek walked in on you gnawing on his biceps/tail once and was nearly turned into minced meat

he is no longer allowed within ten feet of you when your teeth are bitching

Lilia

oh you poor thing don’t worry let peepaw take care of you here have some homemade ice cream why are you crouched like that-

lilia can’t remember the last he had been tossed like a ragdoll through a wall

he’s not even mad, it’s nice to relive something so heartracing

after that he’s breaking out dusty books he had god knows where to look up potions and remedies specifically catered to fae having dental problems

unlike malleus his body is colder than average so cuddles galore

he lets you hide under his oversized clothes when you teeth on his arm

he might not look like it but his biceps are rock hard you’ll have to teeth really hard if you want to break his skin and draw blood

Silver

sleepy prince to the rescue

puts his newly obtained culinary skills to use and makes you tasty cold soups and salads that have a satisfying crunch that won’t hurt your teefies

you teeth on his arms and legs, it’s kinda weird to see him snoozing while you gnawing on his thigh since his arms are under him but hey it works

has had to pull you off of sebek more than once jesus crispy hakuna your tatas

you keep trying to eat his animal friends so he asks them to stay away when you’re going through this

his furry and feathery friends understand but have also grown to like you too so they bring him wild berries for you to snack on because they’re worried so cute

Sebek

tried to drag you to his father’s business after you suddenly sneezed sending a tooth and blood flying from your mouth

after explaining that you’re basically on a period but for teeth he’s writing to his parents asking for some tips that can help you ease the pain

they send him a pair of special dental fae pliers and tell him to yank out any teefies that are close to falling out to speed up the process

after getting the okay from you he prepares for the battle ahead

and nearly gets his hand bitten off the moment that cold metal touches your tooth your jaws clamp shut

has to ask for someone to pull the teeth while he sits on your back and holds your jaws open

readily cleans up the blood and makes sure your mouth is carefully clean as his father instructed him

refuses to muzzle you like malleus, he also sees it as demeaning

[just-jordie-things]

Bite Me - Mike Wheeler

word count: 4052 warnings: swearing, unedited and poorly written summary: Mike has harbored a crush on (y/n) since the day they met.  And all it takes is a run-in with Billy Hargrove for him to lose his shit and let his feelings be known. (a/n): I just randomly felt the need to write for one of my best boys

___

(y/n) (y/l/n) was a sweet girl. If you asked anyone they’d tell you how kind she is, to everyone she meets.  From giving out homework answers when someone forgot, to sharing her lunch, she’d lend a hand no matter who you were.  She was a good person, and that’s why Mike was so in love with her.

He had been ever since she’d joined the Party, back in the fourth grade.  She’d been bringing in an extra juice box and snack for two weeks, just for Will, and the four boys agreed unanimously to offer her a spot in their group.  Mike can still remember the look on her face, the wide grin that showed off her recently lost tooth, and the way she’d giggled and agreed instantly.

They taught her D&D, she was invited into Will’s fort, and taken in by Joyce as one of her own.  She was truly one of them.

She didn’t look at him like everyone else did, it’s one of the first things he’d noticed about her, and he could see it every time their eyes met.  That annoyed expression that he was used to receiving -from peers, from his parents, even Nancy, even their friends- he’d grown so accustomed to it, until he’d met her.

“Fuck you! Fuck you!” Mike was shouting, about to lunge towards Steve, before (y/n) and Dustin grabbed his arms to yank him back.  “We can’t just stay here and-”

“That’s exactly what we’re doing!” Steve shouted back, shoving a scolding finger in the younger boy’s face.  “We’re staying here, so I can keep you dipshits safe!”

Steve rolled his eyes before spinning around to leave.  Nothing stressed him out like these kids.

“Come on, we’ll figure something else out” (y/n) said quietly, and tugged on Mike’s arm a little more.  

His glare softened when he turned to her.

She nods her head off to the side, prompting him to walk off with her.  He groaned, but he followed when she pulled him towards the living room.  Her hand didn’t let go of his wrist until they were away from everyone else.

“You know nothing you could say right now is gonna make me less pissed off-”

“I know,” (y/n) giggles before he can start ranting again.  “But maybe you can just take a breath and pretend to calm down?” She hums, and she laughs again.

Mike groans loudly, loud enough that everyone in the house could hear him, before he threw himself down onto the sofa.

(y/n) just shook her head, and sat next to him.

“Steve’s just trying to keep us safe, Mike,” She says, voice just as soft, but a bit more serious now.  “He’s not doing this to make you mad, you get that, right?”

He nods, but hangs his head in his hands.

“Are you… um… upset because El’s out there?” She asked unsurely.

She had a pretty good feeling that Mike had a crush on Eleven.  He was distraught when she left, and since she’d come back (a few hours ago) he’s been extremely on edge.  Hence the pouting right now.

“I guess,” He shrugged.  “I just- I want to just-”

“I know,” (y/n) murmurs again.  “I get it”

She admired Mike’s need to help, to get involved.  He was brave, if not a little reckless as well.  But there was something sweet about his extreme need to help.  Even though she was still convinced he was only wired this way because of his crush on Eleven.

Mike looked over to her, finding that loving look on her face.  His favorite expression -maybe even his favorite thing- and it somehow calmed him down a bit.  She smiled when he hadn’t started grumbling again.

“You good now?” She asked.

“Yeah,” He sighed.  “I’ll be fine”

She grinned, and poked his cheek affectionately before getting up from the couch.  

“I’m gonna get a glass of water and make sure Steve’s calmed down too,” She told him.  “Guess I’m the only sane one around here”

He laughed a bit as she left the room.

“Steve?” (y/n) called gently as she approached her older friend.

He turned to her, an unamused, and rather annoyed, look on his face.

“You alright?”

“I will be, once I’m in a retirement home and have restraining orders placed on all of you,” He answered, making the girl laugh.  “Your boyfriend calm down yet?” He asked, and her laughter stopped almost instantly.

Steve was chuckling now at how red her cheeks were turning.

“He’s not-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, heard it before, pretended to believe it before, whatever,” He said, and (y/n) busied herself with getting a drink.  “Now’s as good a time as any to just, you know, confess.  You’re stuck here anyways”

“No I… I can’t um…” She shakes her head, staring down at the bottle of water she’d grabbed from the fridge.  “I can’t do that” She finished weakly.

Steve had known (y/n) for a few years now.  He’d met her the first night he’d hung out with Nancy in the Wheeler home, she’d been there with Mike coming up with a new character for D&D.  His first impression, as it was for all of the kids, was that she was a geek.  And she was, but she was a lot of other things too, and what stood out the most to him was her kindness.  She didn’t exactly fit in with the Party like the boys seemed to.  Not only because she was a girl, but because she was… friendly.

Mike wasn’t cruel to Steve by any means, but he was a snarky little shit that sometimes made Steve just want to-

“Why the hell do you like that little asshole so much anyways?”

(y/n) was still blushing as she shrugged her shoulders.

He’d picked up on her little crush one of the first times she’d met him.  He called her out on it right away too, luckily only Dustin had heard, and he’d laughed it off, thinking it was a joke.

It wasn’t.

“He’s such a piece of shit,” Steve said through a laugh, earning a pointed glare from (y/n).  “Obviously he doesn’t treat you the same way he treats, well, everyone else”

“No, he doesn’t,” (y/n) sighed lovingly.  

Her eyes glanced out to the living room, where Mike and Lucas were heatedly, and quietly, arguing.  She rolled her eyes at the sight, not that it surprised her.

“He’s very, um-”

“Sweet on you?” Steve supplied, earning another look, which quickly turned into a nervous smile.  “Yeah, that’s how I’d put it.  I don’t know why you’re being such a baby about it.  He obviously has a little crush on you too,” Steve said, wagging his finger around in her face.  “Otherwise he wouldn’t be such a little gentleman towards you”

(y/n) didn’t say anything else, but she didn’t have to for Steve to know how she felt.  He’d always known.  She didn’t do a great job at hiding it, but her friends, and Mike for that matter, were oblivious.

They were interrupted by a bright light shining in through the windows, bright enough that she shielded her eyes as she wandered out to the large picture window.

“Who is that?” She asked, as everyone gathered around to figure out who could show up at the Byers’ house right now.

Their question was quickly answered.

“Sinclair!”

The angry, dangerous voice sent a shiver all the way down (y/n’s) spine, before an uneasy feeling settled in her stomach.  Billy Hargrove was bad news, but him being here, right now, was even worse.

“Stay inside” Steve ordered, shoving the kids down underneath the window.

“I know you’re in there!” Billy screamed again from outside.

“Stay inside” Steve repeated, before walking out of the house.

“What the fuck does he think he’s gonna do?” Lucas asked, as everyone peeked their heads up just enough so they could see what was going on outside.

“He’s gonna fight him” Dustin said in a matter-of-fact tone of voice.

“He’ll lose,” Max mumbled.  All eyes turned to her, but her gaze was trained on her brother, afraid.  “He’ll kill him”

“He’ll be okay,” (y/n) whispered to her new friend.  “Steve’s a tough guy, and can throw a punch-”

“I’m not so sure he can take one, though” Max said.

(y/n) frowned, and set a comforting hand on the girl’s shoulder.

“We’ll be alright” She assured, even though she wasn’t certain what was going to happen.

Steve was now walking down to Billy, who was still yelling, but they couldn’t make out what exactly.

“What’s he saying?” Mike hissed, only to get shushed by Dustin, thus starting a ‘shh!’ war.

(y/n) only let it go on until Billy shoved Steve back by his shoulders.

“Boys!” She scolded, sitting up a little straighter as the fight outside escalated.

Just as she’d sat up, Mike grabbed her by the shoulder and pushed her back down.

“You want to get seen and murdered?” He whisper screamed.  She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t hide her sweet smile.  His brow furrowed at her smile, but he wasn’t quick enough to say anything about it, as everyone’s attention was pulled back to the scene outside.

Billy had shoved Steve to the ground, and was racing up to the house now.  He locked eyes with the Party, who all quickly leaned down as low to the floor as they could get.

“Lucas, run!” Max screamed, shoving the boy to haul ass before her brother could storm in and get his hands on him.

When the door swung open so hard it slammed against the wall, Mike grabbed (y/n) by both arms and just about ripped them out of their sockets as he pulled her upwards with him to get her as far fucking away from Billy as possible.

“We have to help Lucas!” She tried telling him while he dragged her off to the other side of the house.  “Mike!” She shoved his hands off of her, and gave him a pleading look.  “This isn’t like you, come on, he needs our-”

“Where are you, Sinclair!? Come on out!”

She ran away from Mike before he could convince her to hide.

Finding Lucas shoved up against the wall, something in her clicked.  Billy’s significantly larger framed towered over the boy, who was clearly afraid, while Billy snarled nasty things right in his face.

“Why don’t you just fuck off?” She yelled at him, before thinking through the consequences of her actions.

Dustin and Mike stared at her in shock.  She didn’t curse much, so to hear the foul word come out in her voice was… pretty out of character.

Just as Billy whirled around, likely about to send one knockout punch to her face, Lucas took his moment of distraction to knee him right between the legs.  (y/n) squealed, both hands covering her mouth in surprise.

It was then that she took Mike’s advice to run back into the kitchen, and duck down behind the cabinets so she was out of sight.  

“You’re fucking dead!” Billy howled in pain, and while every bone in (y/n’s) body told her to cover her ears, close her eyes, and stay hidden, she peeked around the corner anyways.

“No,” A different voice, a calm voice, a familiar voice, spoke up.

(y/n) had never been so relieved to see Steve in her whole life.

“You are” He finished, and took a strong swing of his fist against Billy’s jaw.

The crack that resonated made her wince, and she shut her eyes only for a moment as illy toppled backwards.  He didn’t fall, and instead swung back at Steve, starting a very violent fistfight in the Byers’ kitchen.

“Come on, you gotta move” A pair of arms encircled her torso and helped her up from the ground.  

Mike’s hands were much more gentle with her now than they had been a few minutes ago, and this time she let him bring her out to the living room, away from the fight.

Her eyes were wide with fear as she watched Billy throw Steve around the kitchen effortlessly.  It was terrifying, she felt as though she was about to see him get killed.

When he landed a rather harsh punch, right under Steve’s chin, she cried out for him.

Steve crumbled to the ground, definitely knocked unconscious.  He looked dead, though, and as the thought crossed her mind, she felt it again.  The snap.  Like an instinct buried deep was just let loose.

“You motherfucking piece of shit!” She screamed in a way that Mike, or any of them, had ever heard before, and was charging at Billy in an instant.

It was a hasty decision, grabbing the beautiful vase of flowers off of Joyce Byers’ table and throwing it full force at the back of Billy’s head.

While his head was soaked, and definitely bleeding from the shards of glass, he still managed to stay standing, and was fuming with anger as he glared down at (y/n).

“You made a big mistake little girl” He growled, and began to stalk towards her in a threatening manner.

“Bite me” She snarled back at him, followed by the rash decision to spit on him.

“(y/n) what the hell are you-!?”

Mike’s warning was cut off when Billy reached her, and she kicked him with all the force she could right in the gut.  He grunted, but it hardly slowed him down.  All she could see was red as she kicked him again, and began to throw her fists against his chest.

She didn’t have an ‘oh fuck’ moment until he grabbed her wrists in his large hands, and kept his hold so firm that tears welled in her eyes from the pressure.

“I’m gonna fucing kill you, little girl” He snarled, teeth bared right in her face.

Oh, fuck.

She tried to yank her body backwards, out of his grip, but he was faster, and stronger, and bigger than her.  This resulted in her being thrown, no, slammed into the nearest wall.  She cried at the crack of her skull against it, but had no time to react as Billy’s fist was all she could see, before it struck her and knocked her out instantaneously.

She fell like a limp, broken thing, and even when Mike grabbed her and shook her by her shoulders, she remained unconscious.  It didn’t matter that Billy was still looking for blood, he pulled her into his lap and held her close against his chest.  He was living a delusion thinking he could protect either of them if Billy came back for more, but he didn’t care.  He was gonna keep her safe now.

Max had plunged the syringe into her brother’s neck, and was threatening him with Steve’s bat, but Mike hardly paid them any attention.

“(y/n), wake up, come on,” His voice was barely a mumble, and he hated to admit it but his throat was growing hot and tight with his tears choking him up.  “C-come on open your eyes” He stuttered.

He pushed her hair out of her face so that it wouldn’t get sticky from the blood running out of her nose.  He wiped away the red substance with his sleeve, not bothered by it at all.

“We’re going!” Lucas called, and rushed over to Mike to help him carry her.  “Dustin Will and Max are getting Steve in the back.  I’ll help you with her”

Mike didn’t have time to question anything Lucas had just said, and hastily went along with the plan.  They looped (y/n’s) arms over both of their shoulders, and made their way out to Billy’s car. ___

Everything.

Hurt.

It was the first thing that (y/n) was aware of when she came to.  Her legs, her arms, her torso, her head-

Oh shit my head hurts.

She groaned softly, reaching a shaky hand up to prod around her eye.  She wasn’t exactly sure why, but it was definitely bruised.  The rest of her body had to have been bruised too.

She suddenly shot upward as the car went over a bump, and that’s when she realized she was even in a car.  Why was she in a car…?

Her head rolled against the seat, and she was met with someone’s shoulder against her cheek.  She winced at the pressure, probably because her cheek was bruised and bleeding.

“(y/n)?” A gentle, but distant voice called.  It sounded kind of hazy, like the person talking was miles away, and not right next to her.  “Hey, can you hear me?”

Her eyes met Mike’s round and worried brown ones, and a lazy smile tugged on the edges of her lips.  Even though his brow was furrowed, and there was a deep frown on his lips.

“What happened?” She asked, voice scratchy and quiet.

“What happened?” Mike repeated, much louder than he intended.  She flinched, and while an apologetic look swept over his face, he didn’t apologize.  “(y/n), you attacked Billy Hargrove” He told her in a grave tone.

“I did?” She asked proudly, her smile returning.

“No- don’t- jesus (y/n) what the hell are you on?” He asked.  “He almost killed you, I mean, look at you!”

“Can you please stop yelling dipshit?” Max called from the front.  “I’m trying to focus here!”

(y/n’s) eyes widened, and it dawned on her that Max was the one driving.  But just as she opened her mouth to protest being in the car right now, Mike continued on with his angry little rant.

“I mean, seriously, what the hell, (y/n/n)? Did you think you were gonna win? Did you really think that you were gonna take him down?”

Her brow crinkled and her eyes welled with tears, both from all the pain and his cruel words.

“Do you even realize that he could’ve killed you? Huh? I mean, I really thought he did for a second.  Do you even care?”

“What’s your problem right now?” The girl whimpered

“You are! You’re my problem,” He said, not thinking through the fact that she was crying right now.  “That was really stupid (y/n), really reckless”

“Oh, because you care so much about playing it safe,” She scoffed.

It was getting awkward for the others in the car, minus Steve, who was still knocked out.

“All you wanted to do tonight was to get out there- well- well here we are, Mike!” She shouted.  It hurt her head to yell, and Max was yelling again too, but she drowned it out.  “Hope you’re freakin’ happy” She mumbled, holding her hands against the side of her head.

Mike sighed, and pulled her hands away from her face, staring at her seriously.

“(y/n)...” He said softly.  “I’m sorry it’s just…” He let out one more heavy breath to prepare himself before diving in.  “Look at yourself (y/n), you’re hurt and there’s- there’s nothing I can do about it”

(y/n’s) brow furrowed as she stared back at him.

“What do you mean?” She mumbled weakly.

“I mean I- you… I have to… ugh” He groaned, clearly frustrated by his inability to form a coherent thought.

“You have to… what?” She hummed, face leaning around his shoulder tiredly.  

They were close enough that their whispers were only heard by them.  And somehow, it felt like they were the only people in the car.

“Mike?” She whispered when he hadn’t said anything yet.

His eyes flickered over her battered face.  The black eye, her split lip, her bruised and cut cheek, his heart broke looking at how much pain she must be in right now.  He couldn’t believe he let this happen.

“...protect you” He answered lamely.

“Protect me?” She repeats, soft, and loving.  “From what?”

“Apparently everything from interdimensional monsters to senior year bullies” He said, making her laugh softly.

“You don’t have to do that,” She said with a small shake of her head.  “I’m alright, I will be anyways.  You don’t have to worry so much about me-”

“See I do though- you- you make it impossible not to worry.  I’m just always- I’m a mess, okay?”

She giggled again, and rose a brow.

“I’m not following…you sound kinda crazy Mike-”

“I love you, okay?” He told her.

She choked.

“And I just need you to not get yourself hurt… okay?”

She’d never heard him speak so quietly, so nervously.

“You- you’re- um-”

“No more fighting people- and-and things- bigger than you, deal?”

His hands cupped around her face, thumb stroking over the bruise on her cheekbone in a comforting sort of way.  She swore she was melting into his touch, for a moment she forgot all about the agony her body was in.

She didn’t think twice about leaning off his shoulder so she could reach up and plant her lips against his.  It’s a gentle kiss, because her lips are sore and she was a bit nervous.  

Mike’s eyes widened, and he was sure this wasn’t real.  No, it couldn’t be real, there was no way (y/n) was kissing him.  Maybe he was the one that got knocked out? And this is all some kind of twisted nightmare-dream?

But it was real, she was kissing him.  And it was… wow it was great.

She’d almost pulled away, but he pulled her right back in, and shut his eyes to kiss her properly this time.

If he was being honest, he wanted nothing more than to just take her and pour every ounce of love he had for her into this kiss, but it would probably only hurt her more.

They were cut off by a low whistle, and (y/n) turned to see Steve, who had apparently been sat next to her this whole time, and Dustin, who was sat on his other side, both giving the pair very different looks.

Despite his face looking just as messed up as hers, Steve pulled a sly grin, and winked.

Dustin, however, looked like he might vomit.

“What.  The.  Fuck!?” His voice cracked when he screamed, making both (y/n) and Mike jump a bit in their seat.  “You guys have been- been- hooking up this whole time!?”

“What? No!” (y/n) argued back, shaking her head and trying to kill the idea in Dustin’s head before it escalated, but it seemed to be too late for that.  

“You have! You’ve been frenching!”

“Oh my god,” Mike rolled his eyes.  “Dustin, shut up”

“Can we save this argument for later, fellas?” Max hollered from the front.  “I don’t think that this is the most important thing going on-”

“W-wait a- wait a minute- wait a-!” Steve’s eyes widened as he started to panic.  “No! No way! Stop the car right now! Who let her drive-!?”

His screaming was abruptly cut off by the car swerving, causing everyone to scream now.

“Drive on the right side of the road! Jesus Christ we’re all gonna die!”

(y/n) wrapped both arms around Mike, one behind his neck and the other around his torso, keeping her secure.  In case this car were to crash, her seatbelt, and Mike, would anchor her in place.  Well, she hoped it would anyways.

He reacted quickly, embracing her tightly.

“I’ve been thinking I would get killed by a demogorgon,” She mumbled to him.  “Guess it’ll just be a plain old car crash that takes me out”  

He chuckled, but shook his head at her.

“No one’s dying, we had a deal”

She glanced up at him, a sweet smile on her lips.  And she waited for him to look back down at her to say anything.

“I love you too” She hummed, just soft enough that Dustin (luckily) couldn’t hear.

The smile that grew on Mike’s face was brighter than she’d ever seen from him before.  (y/n) was so relieved that her feelings were returned, that she felt she could go back to sleep, if she wasn’t getting nervous all over again about what was going to happen.

All they had to do now was to kill a monster and save their friends.

___

xoxo ~ jordie

[maeflower]

- if you have ever gone to the woods with me

characters: cyrus monroe x danica silvan

word count: 1.9k

summary: dani takes cyrus to the woods with her, a few months after they started dating.

(he doesn't know what it means. not yet)

it's a silent kind of confession because dani's not the type of girl who can say things out loud.

but, she thinks cyrus understands.

notes: very much inspired by this poetry and my personal headcanon that dani loves going to the woods, but going to the woods in nmc stresses her out because she keeps getting attacked by monsters. so, i want to give her another woods she can relax in :D also on ao3

There was a forest in the back of her high school where Dani used to go every time she was having heavy thoughts. She would go alone, sit on the tree trunk in the middle of the clearing and sketch, or just write random stuffs in her journal, listening to the birds chirping and leaves rustling, breathing the green forest air. It helped get her mind off things, especially when she felt particularly anxious, and she always left the forest with a fresh mind and less burden in her chest.

NMC doesn't really have an equivalent of such place, the closest being Solanaceae Forest, where Dani's had too many near-death encounters to feel comfortable going there unprompted. But, there are woods half an hour train ride from NMC - near a small human town - with tall, dark trees and dense canopies, and Dani's never felt more at home than when standing among the trees.

Dani found out about it during one of her training sessions with Thalia and Jarrod. She was complaining about the lack of quiet places at the campus ground (and NMC in general) and Jarrod mentioned the place.

"Good place if you like to hike. Or just being surrounded by nature. There aren’t many monsters living nearby - probably because of its proximity to NMC - so it's safe to go alone."

"AH, it's the place with the stupidly tall trees!" Thalia shouted. "The one where I had to wrestle a drake!"

"Only because you provoked it first."

"I did not-,"

"Don't worry," he ignored Thalia and turned to her, "they're usually nursing their younglings at this time of the year and prefer to stay in their lairs. So, you'll be safe as long as you don’t bother them."

Dani shook her head, "How do you even know about such place? The number of the monster's population too?"

Thalia just grinned, her sharp teeth glinting dangerously, while Jarrod gave her a shrug, "The perks of being a local, Danica dear."

Then he stretched and stood up, signaling the end of their short break, "C'mon, we'll go through the previous stance again."

Dani groaned. She was half-convinced Jarrod secretly worked for NMC equivalent of FBI or something, with how brutal his training regime was. Or maybe that was also just a quirk you got as a local. You had to be combat-ready at all times with the number of monster attacks NMC suffered every month, after all.

At least, she thought while getting up, he's a much better teacher than Thals, who doesn't seem to understand human limitations.

(Thalia huffed when she told her this.

"You're a drakaina, dragon breath."

"Well, I only found out less than a year ago so can you please slow down?"

"NEVER!")

Dani went alone the first few times. She can't go as often as she likes, as she's still a busy college student with a number of responsibilities, but it's nice being able to recharge once in a while.

This time though, she decides to invite Cyrus.

"Cy, do you want to go hiking with me this weekend?"

Silence. Dani holds her breath, only letting go when Cyrus finally grumbles a response.

"Sure."

That's how most of their dates are planned. Dani finds a place she wants to visit and asks Cyrus if he's free and wants to tag along. The key is to always frame it as something casual so it doesn't spook him off.

"Do you want to go to the zoo with me?"

"Cy, there's a stationary shop near Solanaceae that I want to check out. Do you want to meet there?"

"Hey, do you want to grab something at Café Brownie?"

But, Dani finds that she doesn't mind. They're both not big on romantic gestures, preferring to do things for their partners in silence instead. This kind of dates suit them a lot more.

So the next Saturday, Dani wakes up early - careful not to wake Astrid up -, packs water and a few light snacks and goes to meet Cyrus at the train station.

The journey takes a short time but Dani finds herself dozing off, borrowing Cyrus' shoulder as a pillow. She's still very much not a morning person, but some sacrifices need to be made if she wants to arrive before the sun is too high and the temperature rises. Summer is approaching fast, the days are getting longer and warmer, which suits Dani very well. She's always been partial to summer, the cold makes her drowsy and a bit sluggish. Now that she thinks about it, it might be the drakaina in her blood.

They arrive at the next station before all the morning fog rolls out, the chilly air prickling their skin. From there, they continue on foot. 

The trees in the woods are tall, far older than the ones near her high school. They're not growing densely together so there's a lot of wiggle spaces between the trees. But, the upper branches are so closely intertwined, creating a dense canopy that blocks most of the light coming from above.

They walk in silence, only interrupted a few times by Cyrus asking her to share her water bottle and her occasionally pointing out the name of trees and small animals passing them by. An hour into their journey, they stop to rest and take a shade underneath an old oak tree. Dani sits down cross-legged, her back lying against the tree bark while Cyrus washes his face on a nearby stream.

Sunlight filters through the tree canopy and Dani closes her eyes, feeling the sun warming her face. For a moment, all she can hear is the soft, calming sound of nature before the sound of footsteps takes her back to reality.

"Dani."

Dani opens her eyes and finds Cyrus looking at her curiously.

"Sorry," she gives him a sheepish grin, "it's been a long time since I can relax in the woods without something trying to kill me."

"No worries," he pauses then, still staring at her as if he's just seen her for the first time. Dani suddenly feels a bit shy. It takes courage to let someone else see you with all your guards down. And being on the receiving end of Cyrus Monroe's attention is already no easy feat. "You're in your element here."

Oh, now she's really blushing.

"Being in the woods always relaxes me, I think," she looks down, trying to regain her composure. "There's one near my high school back home. I used to go there every time I needed to think."

"You went alone?" She can tell what he's thinking, bold move for someone who gets lost just going from her dorm to the lunch hall in the next building. She's grateful he doesn't verbally say it because she'd rather get swallowed by the forest floor than to be reminded of that incident. Dani wills the flicker of embarrassment in her chest to die and quickly explains.

"Y-yeah, it's not so big - you can't get lost or anything there - so it's not dangerous to go alone. And it's close to my house so I can run home before it gets dark."

"Besides-," she looks at him then.

"-I never felt the need to bring anyone with me before."

It's a silent kind of confession because Dani's not the type of girl who can say things out loud.

But, she thinks Cyrus understands.

It's the language he's also fluent in, after all.

Cyrus doesn't say anything. But, if the way he holds her hand after that while helping her cross the small brook seems gentler, then it's for her to keep to herself, tucked safely inside her chest to open again and ponder later.

Soon, they reach an area where the trees are sparser and Dani has a light bulb moment inside her head. She turns to Cyrus.

"There's something I want to try, but don't laugh if I fail, okay?"

Cyrus raises one eyebrow, curious, but holds off on commenting.

Dani closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Shifting doesn't come easily to her even after months of training, but she can feel her wings slowly unfurling and spreading across her back. Then, she takes to the sky.

The view from above is mesmerizing. She has to carefully navigate between the lower branches to get a good vantage point but it's all worth it. From this height, she can see their resting place and the tiny brook they just passed, a wild rabbit hopping to its lair, shrubs of wild berries growing thickly a couple of meters from her original position.

So, this is what they mean by bird's eye view.

Cyrus joins her a moment later with a practised beat of his wings, the ivory white a sharp contrast against the dark brown and green of the forest.

"Your wings," he nods at them, "they're the same colour as the trees."

Dani looks behind and notes with amusement that Cyrus is right. She never noticed before - probably because this is the first time she is surrounded by so many green leaves since she learned how to shift - but her scales are the exact shade of emerald green, and with gold flecks dusting the outer part of her wings, it creates the same effect of sunlight peeking through the leaves and turning their tips gold.

"A good way to camouflage," he says and Dani laughs.

"I never thought about it that way but you're right."

She spreads her wings further and does a little somersault in the air. Cyrus follows her with ease.

"So," he smirks, "that flying lesson pays off."

Dani pouts.

"I still don't like being thrown from a tower, for future reference."

"How will you ever learn then?"

"Ugh. I should've asked Cressy for flying lesson instead..."

He snorts, "Bold of you to assume she wouldn't do the same."

"Leon then!"

"All nephilims learn how to fly like baby birds, Danica."

"You guys are so extreme. Even we- I mean, even humans give their children training wheels first when they start learning how to ride a bike, you know."

His eyes glaze over, "That’s how it is with us. You fly or you fall."

Dani blinks at the bitterness in his voice.

"Cy-," she begins.

He shakes his head, "I didn't come here to sour the mood. C'mon, let's try going up."

Dani still stares at him, hesitant, but Cyrus seems resolute on avoiding the subject.

Maybe a conversation for another time then, she relents and nods.

"Okay."

So they fly upwards, deep green and ivory white dancing around each other, slowly intertwining.

Once they reach the canopy, Dani is slightly out of breath, her heart beating faster not only because of fatigue but also the excitement brimming in her chest. She eyes the closely interwoven branches curiously.

"Do you think the branches will take our weights?"

Cyrus shrugs, "Let's find out."

They choose the part that looks sturdiest and sit on top. It takes some time to get comfortable while trying to keep their balance and to slowly fold their wings. When they succeed, Dani cheers. She faces her boyfriend - about to share her joy- and finds him already looking at her.

"Hi," she grins. He moves closer and kisses her softly. Dani hums and gives him another peck.

"Will you come with me next time as well?"

Cyrus let out a sigh but his gentle expression betrays his true thoughts, "Of course."

Dani smiles and rests her head on his shoulder.

"Good."

[crimeronan]

Ok so I’m into the dreamer trilogy and haven’t read the Raven cycle...what is Declan’s characterisation/journey there?

THIS MIGHT BE THE BEST ASK I’VE EVER RECEIVED. IMAGINE I’M STANDING WITH MY ARMS SPREAD USING DIFFERENT VOICES AND HAND GESTURES TO REENACT THIS STORY FOR A RESENTFUL CAPTIVE AUDIENCE

also declan’s TRC storyline is like. equal parts horribly fucking sad and unbelievably fucking hilarious so. i will try to strike a Balance

FIRST OFF.  there is exactly one (1) declan POV chapter in the entire series. it happens toward the end of the last book. up until then, everything we know about him comes from the observations and narration of others.

he is also a very minor character.  his importance grows throughout the series, but almost all of his actions happen offscreen.  it’s not until the last book that we know exactly how much he’s been dealing with the whole time.

when he’s introduced in the first book, he appears as a plot device.  here is a two-dimensional horrible controlling hardass who doesn’t give a shit about anything but his future political career.  look at his fake, smug fucking grin.  how did someone like ronan end up with a brother like him??  doesn’t matter.  it’s a convenient excuse for ronan to live with his best friend in a drafty warehouse, which means more room for YA hijinks!

declan’s introduction scene is Embroiled in Capital-D Douchebaggery. according to the narration (from gansey and adam), he loves to fuck women and then never call them back, cozy up to powerful people, and bitch about how ronan’s ruining his life by being sad about their dead parents.  SOME people can just get over their dead parents, ronan!

this intro scene is also Extremely Funny i 100% recommend reading it even if u don’t read the actual series.  ronan makes a nasty comment, declan goes “why are you the way that you are” and tries to salvage his date, gansey utters the phrase “man whore”

then later that night things go like. actually bad.

declan shows up at the same pizza place where ronan is with his friends.  this scene is gansey pov.  gansey runs out to the parking lot to find the two of them Very Literally Trying To Kill Each Other.  you don’t see that violence in cdth - there’s only the TINIEST shadow of it when declan confronts ronan over matthew - so i Cannot Express Enough that someone is going to end up hospitalized at BEST. ronan’s already slammed declan’s head on the car, declan’s already grabbed ronan and beaten the shit out of his face, like.

you do not get good old-fashioned Declan Lynch At His Actual Worst in cdth. u might be thinking, THAT guy???? doing THIS????

oh yeah. things are real bad between declan and ronan.

after gansey breaks up the fight (and gets punched in the face for his trouble, albeit accidentally), declan tells ronan that their dad would be fucking ashamed to see him now & that he’s washing his hands of it & basically if ronan wants to go off and fucking die, he can.

this is like. just a couple months after the magical suicide attempt referenced in cdth

in the aftermath of that scene it becomes clear that ronan absolutely unequivocally 100% will kill himself if he has to live with declan. hence. why he’s living with gansey instead.  gansey spends that whole night petrified that the declan altercation will lead to another attempt, and for Good Reason

so like, that’s how we first meet declan. he’s an uncaring wannabe corporate asshole who does not give a fuck and who only exists to exacerbate ronan’s mental health issues.

but then the opening of book 2 gets real interesting.

book 2 is where we start learning more about the lynch family.  we learn that ronan’s father was a dreamer who sold his creations on the black market, we learn that that’s why he was murdered. we learn that ronan’s a dreamer too. we learn that there are very powerful people looking for the greywaren, an artifact that takes objects from dreams. those powerful people just don’t realize it’s a person, yet.

so here’s the assassin who killed niall lynch.

he goes to declan’s dorm.

with everything we know about declan, the kid should be completely unprepared.  he can box, but the assassin knows that, so there’s no real advantage.  he’s alone, and he doesn’t have an escape route.

declan pulls out a gun.

this is an unexpected turn of events.

unfortunately he ends up getting beaten half to death with the butt of said gun, because he loses the ensuing physical struggle for the weapon.  the assassin is like, i need the greywaren.  declan is like, i know it exists but i don’t know what it is.  i’ll find it for you.  i’ll get it to you.  then you’ll leave me the fuck alone

now with everything we know of declan at this point - his attitude toward ronan, his general demeanor, and this new knowledge that he knew about the black market - there’s one obvious question.

will declan sell ronan out if he finds out about the dreaming.

and like, okay. their relationship is antagonistic in cdth but it is NOT what it is in trc. believe me when i tell you that at that point, when you’re reading, you can pretty reasonably go, “oh, god.  oh god.  oh god please no one ever tell declan what the greywaren is.  oh god.”

declan has some other interactions with ronan and the gang throughout the book, mostly where he’s just a hardass who tells ronan to stop causing trouble.  adam’s the only one who notices that declan is scared.  like bone-deep shaking to the core petrified.  about Something.

probably getting beaten to within an inch of his life by the man who murdered his father.  that’s the reasonable reader conclusion.

so imagine how everything changes when you find out that declan already knows.  that declan’s known about ronan’s dreaming for longer than ronan has.  that declan knew exactly what and who the greywaren was, and he lied to a man who was ready to torture him for information, and he got away with it.

suddenly a lot of things recontextualize.

“keep your head down and stop making trouble”? people are gonna NOTICE your magic bullshit, ronan, we do not have time for this!

“stop hanging with that loser druggie friend of yours”? you mean the loser druggie friend who sells on the magic black market and doesn’t care about protecting himself or anyone else?

“i got super weird for no reason about ronan sleeping close to adam”? i don’t have fucking TIME to be homophobic i’m busy with your POTENTIAL TO MANIFEST NIGHT TERRORS IN FRONT OF WITNESSES IN BROAD DAYLIGHT

“i’ll find out what the greywaren is and bring it to you”? i’ll die. i’m making a bargain to die. i’m never giving you the greywaren and i know you’re going to kill me about it and that’s fine as long as my brothers are safe

ronan doesn’t know that he dreamed matthew.  declan knows.  he’s known the whole time.  declan tells ronan in book 3.  and then things recontextualize even further, because ronan’s death is also matthew’s, and matthew IS close to declan in trc.

but declan never tells the goddamn truth unless it’s his last option.  he doesn’t tell ronan that he knows about the dreaming and he doesn’t tell ronan what specifically wants to hurt him and the lack of communication fucking destroys both of them.

in the last book, ronan realizes declan loves him.

more than that, he realizes declan’s loved him the whole time.

this is when declan finally tells the truth.  things are getting bad, plot-wise, and declan is scared, so he comes clean.  he tells ronan that niall specifically tasked declan with protecting ronan from the market.  he begs ronan to run from the danger.  “let’s pour gasoline on everything dad left and start over.”

this is also when ronan realizes that declan’s childhood was very different from ronan’s own.  and that niall and aurora lynch were not the same people to declan that they were to ronan.  and that their father’s decisions are what’s driven the wedge between him and declan all this time

(he’s still struggling with the cognitive dissonance of this in cdth. i don’t think he knows how to adjust his perception of declan to fit this new information.)

aaaaand the final scene with declan makes me cry every time i read it so instead of summarizing, here’s the important part:

Ronan delivered a sharp tap to the object, and a small cloud of fiery orbs sprayed up with a sparkling hiss.

“Jesus, Ronan!” Declan jerked his chin away.

“Please. Did you think I’d blow your face off?”

He demonstrated it again, that quick tap, that burst of brilliant orbs. He tipped it into Declan’s hand, and before Declan could say anything, jabbed it to activate it once more.

Orbs gasped up into the air. For a moment, he saw how his brother was caught inside them, watching them soar furiously around his face, each gold sun firing gold and white, and when he saw the spacious longing in Declan’s face, he realized how much Declan had missed by growing up neither dreamer nor dreamt. This had never been his home. The Lynches had never tried to make it Declan’s home.

“Declan?” Ronan asked.

Declan’s face cleared. “This is the most useful thing you’ve ever dreamt. You should name it.”

“I have. ORBMASTER. All caps.”

“Technically you’re the orbmaster though, right? And that’s just an orb.”

“Anyone who holds it becomes an ORBMASTER. You’re an ORBMASTER right now. There, keep it, put it in your pocket. D.C. ORBMASTER.”

Declan reached out and scuffed Ronan’s shaved head. “You’re such a little asshole.”

The last time they’d stood on this roof together, their parents had both been alive, and the cattle in these fields had been slowly grazing, and the world had been a smaller place. That time was gone, but for once, it was all right.

The brothers both looked back over the place that had made them, and then they climbed down from the roof together.

[the-lady-writes-what]

Like Father, Like Son

Summary:

You're minding your own business when your college bestie, Hitoshi Shinou, embarrassingly points out your big, fat crush on your very own teacher, Professor Aizawa. These things happen, right? You can't help yourself. But when Hitoshi starts to leave you cryptic messages, you're bidden to come to Aizawa's classroom. He's there and Hitoshi arrives. You're left wondering for a brief moment why these two men are in the same room together and with you. A kiss here and a grope there, you find out pretty quickly what they're up to.

College Professor!Eraserhead/Shouta Aizawa x Reader x College Student!Hitoshi Shinsou (19-22)

Hitoshi Shinsou has been aged up for this fic. I do not write for characters under the age of 18.

Content: oral (receiving and giving), cream pie, DILF, forbidden college professor, public sex, spanking, mild name calling, pet names, hair pulling, father and son tag team

                                                        ---080---

Students shuffled in their desks at the bell's sound, which only served to perturb Professor Aizawa. However, he was too tired to chide them for not letting him dismiss them instead of the bell. You gathered your things and slid your backpack unto your shoulders. Butterflies swarmed your stomach. Barely nineteen, you came across your first adult crush when you walked into Professor Aizawa's classroom. To most, he didn't appear to be the first choice when it came to college crushes. He was lean and well-built to be sure (only you could tell beneath all that black he wore), but Professor Aizawa looked tired all the time. His scruffy face, messy hair, and rough personality did not make him a favorite among the female students. Most considered him too lazy to take care of his personal appearance.

But you?

The rough and tumble exterior made him unconventionally attractive. Those dark circles under his eyes were proof that he put in sleepless nights working for his students. His dark clothes showed off some of his well-earned muscles once you looked close enough. Aizawa's unshaven face just made him rugged and distinguished from the baby-faced freshman who tried hitting on you. This was a man, not a boy.

"Have a good evening, professor," you said in passing.

He didn't say anything in return as he gathered up the army of papers sitting on his desk. Without looking, he waved good-bye. You entered the halls and started making your way towards the cafeteria. Once you paid for your meager meal, you went to work finding your usual table with your friend. Hitoshi was easy to find. He was the quiet type whom many confused for an artist or a druggie. Something about him made you quiver a little too. He wore the same bored expression that almost matched Professor Aizawa's. Of the two men, Hitoshi was closer to your age than the professor. You sat down with butterflies returning to your stomach.

"How was class?" Hitoshi asked.

"Huh?" You'd been so busy trying to keep the butterflies at bay that you weren't paying that much attention.

"I said 'how was class?'"

"Oh. Uh, it was good," you answered.

"Staring at Professor Aizawa again?"

"Shut up! It's not like that you and you know it." You pouted.

"Is it?" Hitoshi teased. "I see the way you look at him. You make googly eyes whenever you see him in the hallways. It's almost sad, really."

"I don't make googly at Professor Aizawa. I just…admire from a distance."

"You could admire up close and personal," said Hitoshi, who then took a bite out of his cheeseburger.

Your face turned bright red. It wasn't illegal, though some prudes might consider the age difference scandalous. Professor Aizawa wasn't old at all, but he was almost twice your age. Besides, you didn't need to be one of those students who slept with their professor to get good grades or have rumors saying you did.

"Don't…don't joke like that." Or you just might take him seriously.

Later that night, as you lay in bed, your eyes stared vacantly at the ceiling. You couldn't find sleep even when you looked for it. As quiet as possible, you crept out of bed and made your way into the hall. You snuck past the RA's room, up the stairs, and crept into the boys' dorm. You heard behind closed doors snoring, late-night conversations, and even video games. You concerned yourself with only one room at the end of the hall. You gently knocked and waited with bated breath. You heard someone shuffling around and crossing the floor. The door opened.

"Do you know what time it is?" Hitoshi yawned.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Can I come in?"

Hitoshi raised a questioning brow at you. "What for?"

"I can't sleep. Please?"

Hitoshi pulled the door open wider for you to enter. You ducked inside quickly in case the RA for the boys' dorms decided to make a late-night inspection.

"You're damn lucky Denki sneaked into his girlfriend's room earlier. Not that he'd snitch."

"Not unless he wants the RA's to know what he's been doing," you chuckled.

Hitoshi crawled into his bed but left space for you. You climbed in with him and pulled the covers over both of you. Hitoshi was the perfect gentleman and kept his hands to himself. Although, that was easy because he was already nodding back to sleep.

"Why were you awake at three in the morning?" Hitoshi yawned.

"I told you. I couldn't sleep."

"And sneaking into my room for G-rated pillow talk is going to help you fall asleep?"

"Maybe. Look, I," you paused.

"Yes?"

"I had a weird dream, okay?" You huffed this time.

"Oh?" Hitoshi's tone sounded curious if but a little tired.

"Yeah. I dreamed about…well. Okay. Promise me that you won't laugh."

"I can't make any promises."

You inhaled sharply through your nose and exhaled through your mouth.

"I dreamed of doing it with Professor Aizawa." You said in one breath.

You hid your face with your hands and waited for Hitoshi to bellow with laughter. You waited and waited. You felt the bed shift. Slowly, you moved your hands away from your face to see Hitoshi lying on his side. You expected to find a smug know-it-all smirk on his face, but Hitoshi looked a little humble. No. That wasn't right. Humble wasn't quite the word you'd describe his face at this moment. There was a certain kind of sadnessresting in his tired eyes, but you couldn't tell with any certainty because you lay down in darkness. Only the occasional wink from the moon spilled between the blinds gave you any light. His eyes kind of looked glassy in the shadows from little light you had.

"It gets worse," you muttered.

"What? Did Denki join in?" Hitoshi laughed, and it didn't escape your notice how bitter the noise sounded.

"No," you felt your cheeks warm as blood rushed to your face. "You did."

You felt Hitoshi's eyes on you. You made to get out of the bed to avoid an ugly, awkward conversation, but Hitoshi stayed your hand. By kissing you.

You didn't see it coming until it was too late. Hitoshi maneuvered on top of you before you could leave. His lips were on yours before you could ask what he was doing. His hands were on your waist, squeezing you. The kiss was hard, sudden, and begging for you to reciprocate. With a sigh, you caved. You didn't question it but fell headlong into the kiss. Your hands reached behind his neck and clasped fingers together. Just when you think one or both of his hands will wander under your shirt, Hitoshi pulls away.

In the dim moonlight, you see him smirking down at you and then plops right down into the bed. You are so dazed and confused that it takes you a full minute to realize what just happened. Hitoshi kissed full on the mouth then had the A-U-D-A-C-I-T-Y to pull away and go back to sleep. Hitoshi put his back towards you. You get on your side and shove his shoulders.

"What the hell was that about? You can't just…You can't leave a girl hanging?"

"It's also three AM, and I have an eight AM class. We'll talk about it in the morning," he said.

"You've got a girl in your room, and one who's perfectly willing and just going back to sleep?"

"Uh, huh."

You snatched the pillow from under his head and gave him a good smack a couple of times. You lay back down, turning your back to him. Sleep didn't come easily, but at least you didn't have more dreams.

Evidently, you and Hitoshi didn't talk that morning. When you woke up, he was gone. You quickly snuck back into your dorm and went immediately to your phone. No calls or texts from Hitoshi indicated that he didn't want to talk about it, and everything else was just a rouse. You swore that the next time you saw him, Hitoshi Shinsou was getting a piece of your mind, whether or not he liked the words you had to say. You texted him and even left a voicemail.

No response.

You cleaned up, walked to class, and sat down. Try as you might, you couldn't pull your head out of last night's events. Hitoshi kissed you so suddenly and then refused to talk about his feelings. Clearly, he had some about you but wasn't too fond of sharing them. You half-listened to the professor throughout and left your mind to wander. By the end of the lecture, your phone pinged. You snatched it up. Lo and behold, the little bastard texted you.

I'm sorry about last night. I didn't know how to put it into words. I'll meet you in Aizawa's classroom when you're done.

You rolled your eyes. You didn't reply but thought it would be better to get it out in the open. Although, you wondered why he wanted to talk to you in Aizawa's classroom specifically. Why in the school buildings at all and not the dorms? Why not do it in privacy? These were just more questions for you to ask when the time was right.

The rest of your day went along as normal could be. A nagging thought pressed from the back of your mind that something was amiss. You didn't feel yourself in danger, but there was a lingering sensation trapped in your brain that told you to expect…what? Expect what, exactly? You had no idea. Perhaps your intuition was wrong. Hitoshi wanted to confess his feelings (or whatever he planned to say) at a place most convenient to you. If you finished class, it would be a pain to walk all the way over to the dorms just to talk to him. Even then, it was a minor inconvenience, and meeting in a public space wouldn't be wise. You'd have to wait to figure out what he meant by doing all of this.

When the hour arrived, you noticed something peculiar about Professor Aizawa. Usually, he started packing up his things as your class was the last of the day for him. Instead, he sat at his desk, sifting through his phone.

"Good night, Professor!" You said in passing, biting your lip.

Yes, you still remembered the raunchy dream you had that left your thighs slick. Before you even snuck into Hitoshi's dorm room, you changed pajamas. Aizawa didn't confirm that he heard you or stopped scrolling through his phone to glance at you. He typed away and ignored you. Shrugging your shoulders, you didn't think much of it. You passed his desk, made your way over to the door, and reached out to open it. Before your fingers even grazed the knob, the wood and glass door swung open with a whoosh. Hitoshi stood in the doorway before you.

"You wanted to talk to me?" You lowered your voice. "You know, about last night? Mind if we take this conversation somewhere more private." You gestured to Professor Aizawa, still sitting in his chair. Only this time, he wasn't fiddling with his phone.

"Oh, no. He's good," said Hitoshi. "In fact, I asked him to be here."

"Wait. What?" Your brows furrowed.

Hitoshi closed the door behind and locked it. You were so distracted by Hitoshi's Cheshire grin that you failed to notice the footsteps behind you. Aizawa had moved from his desk and crossed the floor to meet you. His strong hands pulled the shoulder straps of your backpack off of you and gently tossed it underneath an empty desk.

"Hitoshi, what's going on? You're really freaking me out."

An arm like a redwood tree trunk wrapped around your waist. Another hand wandered up to your head and gently brushed your hair to the side. Warm lips caressed your neck. Bristles of hair tickled you and made you squirm. Not that you were really going anywhere. Aizawa caged you with only one arm.

"Pro-Professor?" You were more bewildered than frightened.

Hitoshi leaned against the wall to watch. He had his arms folded across his chest, but his smile was devastating. "Just fulfilling your fantasy, princess. I thought you liked Professor Aizawa?"

"I-I…"

"Cat got your tongue," asked Aizawa.

Teeth nibbled on the junction where your neck met your shoulders. Aizawa's fingers spread out and splayed against your ribs. Your heart thundered in its prison and threatened to escape. Your knees began to buckle, but Aizawa's superior strength kept you from winding up on the floor. It would have been more humiliating to land at Aizawa's feet with Hitoshi watching. Your head was spinning out of control.

"And I know that you like me," said Hitoshi. "Don't blush like that. You can't deny it."

You then noticed how hot your face was. Without even looking in a mirror, you could feel all of your blood gathered in your cheeks. The tops of your ears were red, too, like someone pinched them.

"B-But why…why all this? Why me—" You gasped, then your gasp became a moan.

Professor Aizawa roughly grabbed your breast and played with it over your clothes. His other hand massaged your hip. And his lips? Gods, his lips never left your neck. It was a blessing and a curse. Aizawa licked and suckled wherever he could get his mouth on your flesh. You stared at Hitoshi, who did nothing more than grin like a mad man.

"Do you want to answer her, or should I?" Hitoshi was obviously talking to someone other than you.

Aizawa removed his mouth from you, and you were almost sorry for its loss. His hands, though, remained. Groping and playing with you while he made his answer.

"From day one, I wanted to bend you over my desk and fuck you. I wasn't prepared to see somebody like you, Y/N, to walk into my classroom. Then I find out from my son that he found someone he liked too. To my shock, they were one and the same person. You. Hitoshi took a liking to you and told enough about you to keep me up at night."

"Wait? Son? You mean…" You'd been glancing over your shoulder to get a peek at Aizawa, whose hands never stopped moving before you snapped back to Hitoshi.

"Yeah, that's me," said Hitoshi. He took one dangerous step towards you than another.

"But you two…"

"Adopted." Hitoshi now stood arm's length away from you. "The real question now is: do you want us to stop? Two boyfriends are one thing, but can you handle a father and son duo? All you gotta do is say no right now, and you can walk away."

"What…what happens if I say yes?" You asked.

Heat pooled in your lower belly. Hitoshi's violet eyes pinned you where you stood as if that was all it took. His apparent father, Professor Aizawa, resumed his work on your neck and teasing you with his hands and lips. Hitoshi licked his lips and groped the breast that hadn't been possessed by his dad yet. Your knees wobbled and threatened to give out if not for Professor Aizawa supporting you. Hitoshi reached out, grabbed your jaw, and cupped your chin. You were forced to look him in the eye, which didn't help your situation down below.

"Saying yes means no going back. Once we start, there's no stopping unless you scream bloody murder. If you want to be fucked stupid, now's the time to answer, kitty."

You swallowed hard and nearly choked on the lump that formed in your throat. Aizawa began moaning next to your ear while still massaging your breast. Hitoshi's and Aizawa's hands worked your pleasure to the point you felt yourself dripping beneath your jean pants. Soft sighs escaped you. Your calm, rational brain couldn't come up with an excuse not to say yes. The thrill and fear of being caught sandwiched between two men—one of whom was a teacher no less—and in such a public space sent a shiver down your back. Aizawa's hands felt bigger than Hitoshi's, but his son had softer ones. The dichotomy caused a new wave of sensations to crash into you and pulled you towards unknown depts. What lay at the bottom frightened you, but you also knew that nothing was gained by sitting at home, waiting for Prince Charming.

"Your neck tastes pretty good," said Aizawa, "I wonder what the rest of you feels like." His fingers dug into your hip, and he squeezed your breast a little harder.

Your head rolls back and your eyes closed, lost in the pleasure. You bit your lip to contain the moans and sighs trying to come out of you. You're too scared that someone might hear and find you in a peculiar situation.

"Nobody's gonna hear. We're the last ones to leave, and the janitor saved this room for last. We won't be disturbed," said Hitoshi.

You were curious what he meant by the janitor saving this room for last. Your mind was preoccupied with the steady hand teasing you. Your mind was already made up by that point, you might as well say it aloud. It was just a matter of getting your stubborn tongue to cooperate.

"What's it going to be, Y/N?" It was Professor Aizawa this time with a question, but he growled it in your ear.

Goosebumps rose across your flesh. Hands—you're not sure whose—tore down the zipper of your hoodie to reveal a thin tank top and pull the outer garment away from your shoulders. Two mouths latched onto your newly exposed skin. Your feet were kicked apart. Hitoshi let go of your chin in favor of gliding it down, down, down. You gasped when he cupped the apex of your thighs.

"I can feel you getting wet even through your jeans, Y/N. You want this, don't you?"

Without thinking, you nodded. Their hands, their mouths, their deep voices, you wanted them to use your body until you couldn't tell who was who anymore. Sleeping with your professor and his son at the same time, should have raised alarm bells. It was wrong on many levels, but you couldn't think of a single one of them.

"Use your words, kitty." Said Aizawa.

Aizawa's hand left your hip. He dragged it across your stomach, slid it down the opposite thigh, and grabbed hold of it. Aizawa brought this leg further and higher up to the point of stretching your leg close to the edge of pain. You blushed deeper when you realized that he spread your legs wider for Hitoshi to play with you. Hitoshi rubbed his hand from back to front along the crotch seam of your jeans. Moisture gathered there as if your body was obeying his every command.

"Come on," urged Hitoshi. "You know you want to."

With a few more rubs, you were panting. You weren't sure if you screamed it or moaned, but you said it. You threw your head back, and with a groan, you said, "Yes, please. More."

That's all they needed. Hands and mouths immediately left. You whimpered at their absence, but you weren't going to be sad for long. Your world literally spun as Aizawa grabbed you, pinned you to the chalkboard, and pulled at the button and zipper of your pants. Hitoshi got rid of your socks and shoes and ripped off your hoodie. Fast hands pulled your top off and your bra. It was unfair that they only took off their shirts. You were about to protest this fact when Aizawa got down on his knees in front of you and spread your legs.

"Pay attention, Hitoshi. I'm about to show you exactly how you're supposed to please a woman."

You caught his hair by your fingers, twisting and pulling by the third stroke of Aizawa's tongue. He lapped from one end to your clit and back down. You quivered when he pulled your outer lips apart to reveal the hot button of yours hidden there. Aizawa brought his lips to your clit and sucked. He kept your legs apart by putting his hands on your thighs and pinched whenever they got too close to his head. After sucking your clit, Aizawa went back to licking your slit, which was now dripping to the floor.

"The trick is," he addressed Hitoshi without even wiping his mouth first. "Is to find the pace best for them. No two pussies are the same, and this kitty here is really sensitive. Watch."

Aizawa dove between your legs again and pressed his lips against your cunt. A rumble from his throat sent shockwaves through your body. He positively growling while slurping you up like an ice cream cone. You knocked your head into the chalkboard, which still had his lecture notes scrawled in that familiar handwriting. Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when Aizawa penetrated you with his tongue. He lapped at your inner walls and thrust in and out in preparation for the real thing. You had no doubts that one or both of them were going to filling you tonight. Judging by how eagerly Aizawa treated your cunt like an all-you-can-eat-buffet, you were assured of that much.

All the while, you felt more than saw Hitoshi's eyes on you. He watched Aizawa eat you out, then his gaze flickered to your face. Violet eyes fixed on you. Not wanting to disturb his dad hard at work, Hitoshi leaning against the chalkboard next to you. His hand once more grabbed your face and turned it towards him. Hitoshi brought you close to his face and pulled your lips towards his. He kissed you, and it was better than you ever dreamed about. A lot better than what you actually did dream about. His lips felt soft against yours. Soft but demanding. Hitoshi's kiss was so much more than just smooth. You felt his tongue swipe at your bottom lip, begging for entrance. He didn't need an invitation, but it was sweet of him to ask.

You parted your lips. Hitoshi imitated the movements of Aizawa's tongue in your cunt. He moved his tongue in and out of your mouth. The result made you moan and drool. Aizawa parted from you, making you whine.

"Whatever you're doing, keep doing it. She's about to come all over my face," said Aizawa before diving back in with more fervor this time.

The room filled with your sighs and the perverse sounds of Aizawa eating you. Hitoshi's other hand went to your breast. His fingers were more nimble than you thought they were. They performed magic on you. He twisted your nipple until it was rock hard and did the same for the other one. Your chest was heaving for air and in the heated pleasure of the moment. Hitoshi, let you breathe for a few minutes. He grinned down at you as he watched your face contort. You yanked on his father's head as something ripped out of you.

You crashed into your orgasm that you didn't even see coming (pun intended). Between Aizawa's stupendous tongue and Hitoshi's…everything, you wailed like a banshee. Aizawa sucked and sucked until your body could no longer handle the sensations. Aizawa came away with his mouth and chin soaked with your juices while the rest dribbled down your displayed cunt.

"Fuck," Hitoshi sighed, bringing you in for another kiss.

You were inclined to agree with him.

Aizawa rose from his knees. He wiped his mouth, spreading it over his arm. He sat on his desk, watching the two of you make out a little before breaking it off. Aizawa's lips were firmer than Hitoshi's, and he made no pretense of being gentle. You tasted yourself on him and shuddered.

"How do we do this?" Aizawa murmured to no one in particular. He moved a strand of (h/c) hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear. "I've always wanted you bent over or splayed out on my desk. With Hitoshi here, that complicates things."

"Still could," suggested Hitoshi. "Though, it wouldn't be your desk. Where do you sit, Y/N?"

You answered quickly, and Hitoshi immediately went there. Aizawa held you up as he guided you over to your desk. As if reading his son's mind, Aizawa pressed down on the small of your back until you lay face-first into your desk. Hitoshi stood on the other side, working to undo his pants. He was inches from you, and you could reach him without effort.

Aizawa spread your legs and lifted your hips a little. You clutched your desk for dear life. You heard Aizawa adjusting himself behind you, but Hitoshi was on full display before you. Bristling violet hair made a treasure trail leading to his long cock. He moved his hand up and down its shaft while he refused to leave your eyes again. You watched a bead of pre-cum leak out of the reddened cock head while unaware that Aizawa fished himself out of his trousers. In one go, he was seated firmly in your heat. Your jaws unhinged, allowing Hitoshi to do the same to your throat. Both men groaned as your velvety walls enveloped them.

"Shit, that feels good," moaned Hitoshi.

Aizawa gave you an appreciated slap on your ass. "You're so tight, Y/N. How fucking long have you been holding out on us?"

With Hitoshi's cock inside you, you were only allowed to whimper and moan. Hitoshi bunched your hair at the back of your head in his hand while Aizawa set a bruising hold on your hips. Father and son looked at each other and nodded in agreement to some unspoken thing. Aizawa pulled back only to slam forward again. He moved first, and then Hitoshi shortly followed second. They timed their thrusts perfectly so that when one was buried deep in your body, the other pulled out almost to the tip of his cock. Each cock slid nearly the whole way out before getting shoved into one hole or another. Your arms were useless noodles clinging to your desktop like a life-saving raft. The desk's metal feet scraped the floor while your insides were being delightfully abused.

Tears streamed down your face. You were neither scared nor humiliated. The tears were a mere reaction to the overstimulation you received servicing father and son at the same time. Hitoshi reached to the back of your throat and made you gag. He tried to slow his pace so you wouldn't actually choke on him, but he was young and couldn't help himself. His dad, on the other hand, had more experience. He wasn't nearly as long as Hitoshi, but he made up for it in stoutness and skill gained only through experience. It wasn't just his cock rearranging your guts; his fingers left bruises and the hard grunts he let out when he pounded you. He evidently wasn't much of a talker.

"So good, baby. So good. Keep going. Fuck." Hitoshi loosened his hold on your hair a little bit and stroked your face and throat.

You hallowed out your cheeks. Looking up at Hitoshi, you worked to suck him off. His features screwed up as his eyes turned into a molten mixture. You could tell by instinct that he wanted to be the one fucking your cunt and had settled for your throat. You also felt how bad he wanted to see you swallow his come when it was time.

"Fuck," Hitoshi groaned. Sweat beaded down the side of his face. His hips moved faster, and his hand wandered.

You felt Hitoshi's fingers graze your throat. You shivered as those red-hot fingers held every intent on wrapping around your neck while he fucked your throat. You looked up at him and slowly nodded. Hitoshi gave you a test squeeze on your throat. Nothing to hurt or scare you with, just one squeeze. When you didn't convulse, groan in distress, or shake your head, Hitoshi put his whole hand down and squeezed for longer than a second. He felt his own cock being shoved and pulled from your throat. He pressed just a little tighter. It wasn't enough to restrict your airways, but the edges around your eyes started to blur.

"Such a good mouth. Good little cockslut, aren't you?" Hitoshi licked his hips. "Want me to blow my load? Want my cum down your throat?"

You nodded with enthusiasm. Hitoshi grabbed either side of your head and disregarded Aizawa's pace then drove his cock deep inside your throat. If you weren't choking before, you are now. Hitoshi rammed his hips into your face. His movements bounced the desk harder than before, and it was a good thing there weren't' any classes on the floor beneath this one.

Hitoshi shoved your face against his crotch as his cock swelled inside your mouth. Ropes of cum guzzled down your throat. He quickly pulled out before he was finished serving you his cum directly into your stomach. Cum splattered your face, hair, and, of course, the desk.

Having your throat painted white did something for you. The coil that had been building in your lower belly since the moment Aizawa and Hitoshi stuffed you full of their cocks snapped. Your body unwound itself around Aizawa's cock, still pulsing and moving inside your walls. You screamed this time, and Hitoshi did nothing to muffle the sound. You panted and continued to yell as you felt another coil begin to tighten within you. Aizawa's hips never stopped but only quickened. Watching you lose your mind spurred him on to take you faster, harder, and more thoroughly.

Aizawa pulled you up so that you stepped on the boots he kept on while fucking you. He pressed your back flush against his chest while he continued to fuck your cunt. You were red from head to toe when you felt Hitoshi watch you getting fucked by his father. He watched you bounce on Aizawa's cock like it was the most natural thing to do. With the nonchalance of somebody who didn't just cum down a girl's throat while his dad plowed her from behind, Hitoshi put on his shirt and gathered your things.

"He's right," Aizawa grunted. His pace was impossible to keep up with. Your walls clenched around him as you braced yourself for another one. "You're too good of a cock slut to let go. You're going to be our good girl, won't you?"

"Yes!" You screamed.

"Then take my load like a good little girl. I'm…going to fill that sweet cunt of yours."

Aizawa's hips snapped into a frenzy, beating your insides as if bruises didn't matter. Your inner walls clenched hard. Another wave spiked through you. Impaled on his cock, you let out a deep moan that felt like it came deep inside your soul's core. You shivered around him. Having you wrap so tightly around his cock, Aizawa pulled out to just the tip and shoved himself back in again. When he kissed your cervix, you bellowed as more cum shot into your body. Aizawa's spray lasted longer. There was so goddamn much of it that his cum leaked out of you when he eventually pulled out.

Hitoshi ran to get cleaning supplies and came back with an armload of warm, damp towels. He and Aizawa took their time cleaning you up, wiping away all traces of their cum with no small reluctance. They needed you presentable before you all left the building, but they didn't want their mark erased from your body just yet. While Hitoshi got rid of the evidence, Aizawa helped you into his leather-back chair and back into your clothes. When all was said and done, you were forced to hang onto them. Aizawa and Hitoshi half-carried you to the former's car. You sat in the back with your brows heavily furrowed.

"What's going on? Are we going somewhere?" You asked.

Your heart raced inside your chest; you had a feeling exactly where they were taking you. Your dorm was within walking distance. A car would be silly.

"First, we're going to get dinner," answered Aizawa as he buckled into the driver's seat.

"And then?" You dared to raise the question.

"And then we fuck you properly on a bed," Hitoshi finished.

                                                  ---080---

[wiener-soldiers]

so, you’re real - tommy shelby

summary: while high off his ass, tommy shelby is approached by a mysterious woman offering him something more valuable than drugs: information. your services become essential to how tommy conducts business, but your anonymity means he can’t help but fall in love with you from a distance.

words: 5.4k

pairing: tommy shelby x fem!reader (race non-specific)

warnings: tommy shelby. that’s the warning.

a/n: first tommy fic :D he’s one of the most beautifully complex characters ever in television imo but that also means his kinda nightmare to right. so,,, he might come off a little ooc because he’s very soft!tommy in this. i also wanna write a tommy fic based off ‘why’d you only call me when your high’ by arctic monkeys for obvious reasons.

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Tommy Shelby could count the number of people who’s seen him high as a kite on opium with three fingers. Arthur was the first; he drukenly stumbled into Tommy’s room instead of his own one night and the smell of the pipe sobered him enough to start asking questions. Tommy shoved him out and by the morning, Arthur was too hungover to remember a thing. The next was Polly; Tommy stumbled down the stairs as he was high around three in the morning once as he searched the house for more booze. Polly watched from a distance as he sat himself on the kitchen table and wept, squeezing his eyes shut and covering his ears with his hands. She chose not to mention it the following morning, but a perscription for morphine found its way to Tommy’s desk a few days later.

The third person... was you.

You didn’t know the Shelby’s personally. You were the assistant of a local Small Heath accountant that dealt with Birmingham’s most infamous clients: local coppers, factory owners, politicians, even gangsters. Your boss was known as the Devil’s Safe—nothing that came in went ot without the client’s consent.

But you weren’t a saint. Being so close to his office at all times and knowing far too much about where the most influential people in Birmingham got their money and where they spent it, it was nearly impossible to keep your mouth shut.

So, you didn’t. At a price, of course.

You quit your job and created a small network of spies that could feed you information about anyone or anything at anytime, using your knowledge about the Devil’s Safe as leverge. You charged whoever could afford for your services, coppers and criminals alike. Some self-righteous copper tried to shut you down once. Keyword: tried. There were too many spies all over the city to try to arrest (that is, if he could find grounds to arrest them), and you were too important to too many important people that arresting you would likely have him assasinated.

That, and you tipped him off about a corrupt police captain who had been trading orphans for cash. It got him a promotion and you a protective shield over your dealings from the coppers.

Tommy first met you at the races. You were hanging off the arm of Roberts, Billy Kimber’s advisor, and he briefly caught your eye before returning his gaze to Grace who stared at him lovingly. He didn’t know it then, but you were analyzing him. His posture, his facial expressions, how he spoke to Kimber, and most importantly, his books that Roberts happened to have a copy of. Nothing went unnoticed by you. The Shelby’s were starting to cause ruckus all over the city and you were interested. But, to maintain your facade, you snuck a few kisses to Roberts’ neck to distract him from your snooping.

When Tommy returned to the table with the bag of cash his brothers had collected from the Lees, you were gone.

---

The second time he sees you, he isn’t even sure if it’s you.

It’s late at night as he approaches The Garrison when he notices Polly standing with another figure in the alley. He slows his steps and silences his breathing, trying to catch the end of your conversation.

“You’re sure this is where she is?” That’s unmistakingly Polly’s voice.

A soft chuckle rips through the air and Tommy suddenly wonders what your voice sound like. “There’s only so many women carrying a newborn and looking that terrified of what may be behind her,” the other voice says. It’s not soft or angelic, Tommy notices. Nothing likes Grace’s. It’s deeper, smoother, and he can almost hear the smirk in her voice.

“How do I know you’re not lying to me?” Polly asks back skeptically. Tommy has the common sense to realize she’s talking about Ada who had gone into hiding after Freddie was arrested. Polly hadn’t been able to stay in the same room as him for very long since.

You pull out another envelope from your coat and teasingly dangle it in front of her. “Here’s the list of all of Ada and Freddie’s known addresses. The Communists have them move every few weeks; the address I gave you is Ada’s current address. Go there tomorrow from seven to nine in the morning. Ada’ll still be in bed and Karl will still be asleep. Then, you’ll know I’m right, you’ll give me the full payment, and I’ll give you the rest of the addresses.”

Tommy is slightly stunned at what he’s hearing. They had been trying to look for Ada for nearly two weeks to no avail, but this woman was able to find her that easily?

The woman turns to walk away before Polly can respond and in the street light, Tommy can make out the outline of your face. It was so brief that he couldn’t tell if you were actually there or if he imagined your face in the darkness.

Polly doesn’t notice him as she makes her way back inside the pub. The following afternoon, Polly is pounding on his office door saying she’s found where Ada had been hiding.

---

The third time he sees you, he’s sitting in the empty Garrison with a bullet wound in his shoulder, whiskey coursing through his veins, enough meloncholy and anger to swim in, and a broken heart.

Billy Kimber was dead. Campbell was gone. But, so was Grace.

It was a series of emotions he hadn’t felt in a long time: relief, then anger, then happiness, then frustration. Then the shovels started. Then, it all got too loud and he slipped his opium pipe into his coat pocket before going to The Garrison to drink his sorrows away. He had never taken the pipe out of his room before. In that state, he didn’t care.

He doesn’t really know how you got in; he had angrily yelled at everyone to leave the bar when the night was late enough for him to feel emotion and locked the door behind him. Maybe I didn’t lock the door right, he thinks. In reality, you had picked the lock.

“I could’ve told you she’d been working with him,” your voice calls behind him. He’s still hunched over his drink, the pipe lying next to a nearly empty bottle of whiskey. He didn’t need her to clarify who she was talking about.

“You could’ve, eh?” Tommy mumbles dangerously. He felt light, but his eyes and his heart felt heavy. He hated the feeling. Oh god, he hated it.

“Hmm,” you hum back, taking a seat next to him. You reach behind the bar and pull out a bottle of gin and poor yourself a drink. Tommy watches you do so. You don’t look like you pity him, in fact, you don’t even look at him. Instead, you focus your attention on the drink.

After taking a sip, you reach into your coat jacket and pull out an envelope, slidding it over to Tommy. You had clearly seen the opium pipe that still had smoke coming out of it, but you gently pushed it out of the way so the envelope rested in front of Tommy’s drink.

“What is this?” he asks, still too high to think straight.

“Consider it a resume,” you quip back, taking another sip of your drink as you study the collection of liquor and spirits on the back shelf of the bar.

“For what?”

“My services.”

“You a fuckin’ whore? You think that’s what I need right now, eh?”

“What I think you need right now, Mr. Shelby, is a sense of security. To be ahead of the enemy. I can give that to you,” you reply smoothly, barely flinching. Tommy notices your voice doesn’t falter even at his jab. He begins to sober up, finaling looking at you.

You had an air of mystery and intrigue. Your eyes looked all-knowing and the corner of your lip was quirked. A white blouse was tucked into a deep red skirt with your black wool jacket overtop of it all. If he was a different man, he surely would have taken you home.

“Why are you telling me this?” he finally asks.

You look back at him, the smirk on your lips growing. “Because I quite like your family. Polly is quite intelligent and Ada is a delight. I also know far too much about you, so it’d be a shame if someone paid be good money to tell them everything there is to know about you. But if you came to me first, there wouldn’t be much of an issue. The rate for ratting out one of my clients is ridiculously high.”

So, it had been you with Polly that night, he thinks. “You’d work for me?” he asks again, tone getting more serious. The last time a woman worked for him, it didn’t end particularly well.

You laugh and Tommy is momentarily stunned. It’s a beautiful laugh that appeared in an awful moment. “I don’t work for anyone, Mr. Shelby.”

And then you left. Tommy stares a the door for a few minutes after you’ve left, wondering if he had imagined your visit the whole time. When he turns back to his drink, the envelope you left behind is a sign that you had been real. He hesitantly opens it and his jaw unhinges at the contents inside: there were several documents, reports, and even pictures tying Grace Burgess and Inspector Campbell together. It seemed so plain and simple once it was laid out in front of him.

Under the flap of the envelope was an address as well as a rate of service. It was high, Tommy couldn’t deny it, but he also couldn’t deny how the pressure on his chest eased for a moment when he was with you. Even more so when you had left the address.

The next morning, a wad of cash from Shelby Company Limited shows up at one of your drop locations. It’s more than you asked for and quicker than you expected it to come. You smirk softly and get to work.

---

Tommy doesn’t see you again until he pays a visit to Sabini’s club a few years later as he works on his London expansion. He had been a client of yours for nearly two years now and he was continuosly impressed with your work. You literally had eyes everywhere; there wasn’t a place between Manchester and Brighton that you couldn’t get to. You had been the one feeding him inside information about Sabini’s operations in London, as well as how to get Alfie Solomon’s attention.

Despite all this work, he hasn’t seen you since you approached him when he was high in the empty pub. He gets all his information through courriers, telephone calls from messengers, and packages from drop locations all over the city. He asked a courrier once why he hasn’t seen you since.

“No one really sees her, sir. We just get orders in one way or another, we excecute them, and then money shows up. She doesn’t want anyone to tie her to her clients or the boots on the ground.”

“She’s clever.”

“She’s bloody brilliant, is what she is. She’s set up this system so bloody tight that no one really knows how it works except her. One lad up in Coventry tried to turn her in. Went missing a few days later.”

He doesn’t think about you often, but when he does, he’s reminded of that night in The Garrison; how mysterious and beautiful and dangerous you looked, how his chest seemed less tight with you around. Maybe he’s imagined it. Maybe it was the opium clouding his vision. So, he pushes those thoughts away because as far as he’s concerned, you’re an enigma.  Hell, he doesn’t even know your name and he’s been paying you big money and giving away too much of his plans.

But he sees you that night when he and his brothers storm Sabini’s club. You’re sitting on a fancy velvet lounging chair, tucked under the arm of what Tommy assumes is a wealthy banker or socialite. You don’t see him (not yet, at least) but Tommy sees you. All Tommy sees is you. The smoke that flows out of your nostrils as your lips curl at whatever attempt at humour then man with you made draws Tommy in. So does the cut of your deep blue, satin dress. He knows it then, that you’re real. That you’re not a figment of his imagination.

“This place is something else, innit?” Arthur remarks as they make their way deeper and deeper into the club. Tommy is still drawn to you as his brothers gawk at the permiscuous behaviour around them.

The party atmosphere doesn’t last long however, as the boys make a show out of trashing the place. Tommy makes sure to put on a performance, to play up the fear. When he shouts something along the lines of being on a holiday, he happens to catch your eye and the first thing he notices is the smirk playing on your lips. He’s first confused as to why but he understands: you had a large part of the London expansion and you also likely knew that Tommy was going to be there that night. You weren’t there with a man. You were there to see him. You were there to see his reckoning.

The image of you tattooed itself onto Tommy’s brain and the feeling he felt in his chest was something he craved to feel again.

---

The next morning, the brothers stumble into Ada’s home, uninvited. Their younger sister begrudgingly lets them in, still clad in her nightgown, and hastily tells them to keep their noise level down as Karl was still sleeping.

It doesn’t last very long.

“You shoulda seen their bloody faces, Ades!” John hollers, mouth full of biscuits and tea. Ada hisses at him for spewing food across the table.

“Didn’t know what was coming, the lot of them,” Arthur adds, already taking a sip from a flask. He was barely sober from the night before and it wasn’t even eight in the morning. “Fuckin’ Sabini, Ada. He won’t know what’s bloody comin’.”

“Sabini, eh?” Ada plays along, still slightly annoyed but now intriguied. “You didn’t happen to hit up his club last night, did you?”

“’Course we did!” John snickers. “What’d you think we’d do, start small?”

Ada’s facial expression suddenly changes into one of slightly more concern. Arthur and John don’t notice, but Tommy does. “I was hopin’ you would,” Ada plays it off but Tommy notices.

“Ada?” he asks, voice stern but eyes curious. His sister was intelligent, so much so that her mouth was as good at getting her out of trouble as it was getting her in it. Tommy was sure that there was more than what she let on.

“Tom?” Ada says back, not meeting his gaze and instead taking a bite out her toast and jam.

“Why’re you so hung up on Sabini’s club?” Tommy asks  directly, slowly getting tired of his sister’s semantics. He mommentarily understands how Polly feels when he keeps things from her.

Ada sighs, having also attracted attention from her two other brothers. She sets down her toast and looks directly at Tommy. “You saw her, didn’t you?”

“Saw who?” Arthur asks, booming voice too loud for the sudden change of tone in the room. Ada grimaces but still stares at Tommy.

Tommy knows exactly who she’s talking about. But he wonders how Ada does.

“I did,” he says simply.

“Who’re you talkin’ about?” John asks next, looking between his siblings. Arthur shrugs at him.

“Did you say anything to her?”

“No.”

“Good,” Ada says too quickly. Tommy narrows his eyes at her.

“For God’s sake!” Arthur says again, slamming his tea cup back down onto the table. “Who in the bloody hell are you talkin’ about?”

Ada rolls her eyes and continues eating and Tommy is left to stare at his brothers. He wants to answer. He wants to answer so badly. But he doens’t even know her name.

“I—” Tommy trails off. He’s rarely rendered speechless, but he is when it comes to you. Who were you? Why did Ada know you? Why can’t he get you out of his head? Why does he hope you’re standing there in the shadows every time he steps out on the street?

“You? You what, Tom?” John asks this time, equally as exasperated.

“He doesn’t know and it should stay that way,” Ada says simply. “She offers you a service, you pay her, end of transaction. Stay away from her Tommy, I mean it.”

“What service?” John asks again, still getting more questions than answers.

Tommy sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “After Grace, she offered me a service. Cash in exchange for information. Said she knew that I needed a sense of security.” She was right, Tommy thinks but doesn’t dare say.

“Information about what, exactly?” Arthur asks, voice dropping an octave as he leans forward.

“Everything. Anything and everything. She knows everything. I don’t have the slightest clue how,” Tommy answers honestly, his own disbelief being obvious for the first time.

“She can betray us...” John warns, skeptical especially after Grace.

“She won’t,” Ada says simply.

“How do you know?” John challenges.

“She won’t,” Ada reaffirms with a glint in her eye. John immediatley backs down. Ada doens’t trust easily, especially after Freddie.

Tommy believes her. You know too much, far too much. More than he or you had bargained for. You also gave too much. Tommy asked for one thing, you gave him what he wanted and more. Tommy wanted a brief description of the shipping business in Bristol, you gave him an itemized list. Tommy asked you to keep an eye out for any potential threats, you gave him incredibly precise weekly reports. He asked people what your service was like as if he didn’t already know himself: you were never this thorough. He knew you wouldn’t betray him because you would have done it already. The question is, why did Ada trust her?

“You know who she is, don’t you?” Tommy asks his sister once again, doing his best to intimidate her. It’s no use.

“I do,” Ada says simply.

“Even her name?”

John scoffs. “You don’t even know her bloody name and you’ve got that look like you’re in love? Jesus, Tom! You need a good fuckin’, I’m telling you.”

Ada ignores her brother’s comment. “Even her name.”

Tommy gestures for her to elaborate and Ada hesitantly continues, “Polly paid her to find me after Karl was born. She found me personally, not through a messenger. We got along quite well, she was very honest about what she’d been hired to do. She gave Polly that information she was looking for, but we kept in touch. Personally, I mean. I like her.”

“Tell me her name, Ada.”

Ada makes a face of fake appeasement. “Can’t do that, sorry Tom.”

Tommy’s jaw clenches. “Ada...” he warns.

Ada’s glare mathces his own. “Her identity is all she’s got Tommy. The minute a client knows who she is, it all falls apart. For the love of God, for your safety and hers, don’t find her.”

And hell, does Tommy want not to listen. He wants to find you again. To see you. To speak to you. To learn your name. To feel the weight in his chest lighten once more.

But you remained impossible to find. Even with his London expansion, he wasn’t any closer to finding out who you really were than the day you first spoke to him at The Garrison.

So, he tried to push his thoughts away. He didn’t get so lucky.

---

He was used to receiving messages from you on Sunday evenings before the week began and Thursday mornings before the week ended. Sometimes, they’d be in the form of a phone call from a messnger reading a message written by you. Other times, he would visit a drop site where he picked up parcels of information and evidence you had collected. Fridays were paydays, so he’d get a Blinder to drop a parcel of cash (though they never knew it was cash) at a drop site and wait for a courrier with a blue ribbon pinned under the lapel of their overcoat to retrieve it.

All your foot solidiers and clients wore the ribbons. You avoided paper trails so everything was with symbols. Ribbon colours were a discrete way for both the client and the courrier to tell who was who. Clients wore white ribbons, courriers wore blue ones, messengers wore green ones, and red ones were used for emergencies.

That’s why Tommy panicked when a man burst into his office late at night the day before he was set to take down Sabini, urgently lifting his lapel to show his red ribbon.

“What’s happened? Are we in danger?” Tommy asks immediatley, standing up from his chair.

“No, sir,” the foot soldier said. They were never allowed to say the names of clients, only sir and ma’am. “I have a message from her. It was urgent and couldn’t have waited until Thursday.”

The man gives him a sealed envelope before bowing and leaving as quickly as he came. Tommy checks to make sure that he is alone before ripping it open. It wasn’t a message, but a phone number and the word clairvoyant scribbled quickly with fancy ink.

Tommy furrows his eyebrows but picks up his phone and dials the operator. The other end picks up immediately. He hastily says the number he wants to be patched through to as well as the word scribbled below it. The operator says nothing else and he hears the phone ring again before a female voice finally picks up.

“Mr. Shelby, I was waiting for your call.”

It was you. Tommy’s heartbeat quickens. You continue to speak, oblivious to his shock, “I don’t make calls myself unless absolutely neccassary. You don’t need to worry about privacy; I have connections with the operating center that patched you through. They won’t say a word to anyone, telling them that you called and they won’t be listening.”

Truthfully, Tommy hadn’t even been thinking of that. He was still slightly shocked that he was hearing your voice, the same voice as nealry three years ago. The opium fucked with a lot of things, but not his sense perception. Your voice was as beautiful as he remembered it to be.

He forces the thoughts out of his head and finally speaks. “What’s happened? Is there an emergency?”

“You aren’t safe at the races tomorrow. There will be an attempt on your life.”

Tommy is not entirely surprised. “I’m sure you can put two and two together; what I plan to do at the races is practically a suicide mission, dear. Of course there’ll be an attempt on my life.”

You scoff at the other end of the line. “Mr. Shelby, I’ll rephrase: you may succeed in your plan tomorrow, but something will catch you off-guard. Something big.”

“What is it, then? If you’re so sure,” Tommy challenges, but is taken aback by the silence.

You sigh, defeated at the other end of the line. “Mr. Shelby, I’ll be honest. An Inspector Campbell approached me this morning, asking for my services to give him everything I knew about you plans tomorrow. I took his money.”

Tommy’s jaw clenches. “You called me to tell me you’re a fuckin’ conspirator against me now, eh?”

“I resent that. There’s a reason I ask you not to tell me anything about your business aside from what I need to know to do my job,” you snap back. “Campbell gave me money to tell him information I didn’t have. So, I took the money and told him lies. He didn’t pay enough money to turn me against one of clients anyway and I don’t negotiate.”

Tommy laughs in slight disbelief, “You clever bloody woman.”

You can’t help but grin at the other end of the line. “He let it slip that he had something planned, though. That you weren’t getting out of this alive. Thomas, I don’t know what and I don’t have enough time to find out, but you needed to know,” you say before soflty adding, “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t tell you.”

Tommy nods solemnly before saying, “That’s the first time you’ve called me Thomas.”

You laugh and Tommy’s heart clenches at the sound. “Is that what you choose to focus on?” you ask, amused despite your worry.

“I’m not afraid of death. Not anymore,” Tommy answers.

“It’s a shame. There seems to be a lot in your life that’s worth living for,” you reply, your voice softer that Tommy’s ever heard it.

“Will you do me one final favour? Take it as my dying wish.”

“Thomas—” you start before he cuts you off.

“Can you tell me your name?” he finally asks, but he’s met with silence. He clears his throat and adds, “Please?”

You sigh at the other end. This is not how you were supposed to conduct business. Anonymity was the only thing keeping you from being excecuted at the hands of the Crown or a crime-boss. But here the feared Thomas Shelby was, asking as his dying wish to know your name. You don’t know him aside from your brief interactions and stories from Ada. But strangely, you trust him with the key keeping your identity safe.

“Y/N. My name’s Y/N.”

---

The following evening, Tommy trudges home covered in mud and blood. His encounter with the face of death was anticipated, but still left him scarred. Despite his success against the races and against Sabini, he felt trapped. With a success in the business, he still finds himself indebted to Winston Churchill. He’s exhaused of this cycle and in the moment, he embraced his fate just a little.

As he pushed the door to his home open, his eyes are immediately drawn to crackling fire. He hadn’t expected anyone to be home, as the family was staying in London with Ada to celebrate their successes.

So the sight of you, sitting on his couch and staring into the fire shocked the life back through him.

He takes of his hat and stares at you in slight disbelief. “So, you’re real.”

You turn to face him and the tension previously present in your features fell and the corner of your lip quirked upwards. “You’re alive,” you state the obvious.

“The Devil’s tried too many time to kill me, I’m starting to wonder if God does exist,” he says plainly, taking off his coat and taking a seat on the other end of the couch from you.

A small laugh escapes you. “He has jokes, does he?”

Tommy smiles softly but shakes his head and stares at you. “You’re really real. I was starting to think I was imagin’ ya.”

“Ada says you’ve been asking about me.”

“I have. She wouldn’t tell me your name, though.”

“You got it anyway.”

“Who’s to deny a man his dying wish?” Tommy darkly jokes again.

“I can’t go back to operating how things were. Even you knowing my name is too much,” you say softly, turning back to the fire. You were slightly frustrated with yourself. Years and years of building a network built around your anonymity destroyed by one man. Deep down, you felt that it was time.

“I wouldn’t tell anyone,” Tommy says simply.

“But you’d want to be in my life,” you say back, still not looking away from the fire. “I’m a woman, but I’m not stupid. I know why you tried to look for me.”

Tommy sits back and watches her. A woman’s never been more direct with him before. Even Grace, who had just asked him to lay with her one final time before moving back to America at the races, had never laid out what she saw so simply and bluntly before. She was right. Tommy wouldn’t tell anyone your name if you asked him to, but he would still want to see you. The only thing more painful than not knowing who you were was knowing and still not being able to see you.

“You could start again,” Tommy says. He barely recongizes the softness in his own tone, but he decides the change is good. “You could work for me, have your men join the Blinders if they wanted.”

“I don’t work for anyone, Mr. Shelby,” you say again cheekily, reminding him of the first time the two of you spoke. You turn to face him and stop to admire his beauty—how the fire cast beautiful shadows across his face, how the moonlight sparkled in his eyes.

“That you don’t,” Tommy hums in agreement, still looking at you. His gaze hadn’t left you since he came home.

It’s silent for a few moments before Tommy says, “Stay.”

“With you?” you ask in slight surprise.

“With me, in Small Heath, with the company—whatever you want. Just stay.”

“You barely know me.”

“Then let me get to know you, Y/N,” Tommy answers, finally saying your name for the first time. He loves the way it spills off his tongue and you equally adore the sound of his voice when he says it.

You nod softly, agreeing with his hearfealt proposition. The two of you spent the rest of the night staring into the fire, allowing your heartbeats and breaths come into sync as you slowly fell asleep.

---

It’s been five years since you had started working for Shelby Company Limited as Tommy’s senior advisor and security specialist, four years since your network of spies had merged with the Peaky Blinders, three years since you and Tommy got married, two years since you gave birth to a set of twins named Benjamin and Mae Shelby, and one year since you had also become a political advisor to your husband and his allies in Parliament.

With your years together, the Shelby family found you to be an intriguing, fascinating, and intimidatingly wonderful woman. They couldn’t comprehend how right you seemed with Tommy. They also couldn’t comprehend how involved you were in their success without them even knowing who you were. However, they love to poke fun at Tommy for basically falling in love with from two interactions.

You were currently at the Arrow House doing the final touch-ups to your makeup for the gala you were hosting in your home. It was a typical charity ball that made sleezy politicians look good in the eyes of their constituants, but you had pressured Tommy to allow you to host it on behalf of the Shelby Family Institute. He had been skeptical, but relented when you reminded him that it wasn’t about giving them a platform to look good, but using their ego to benefit the institute.

“I’ve put the children to bed,” Polly announces as she walks into the master bedroom. The room is obscenely large with a king sized bed in the middle, but Polly can’t help but feel pride every time she visits. It was the both of your hardwork that you got you here and she was proud. “Ben passed out almost immediatley, but you’re right about Mae. She’s a trouble maker.” 

You give Polly a smile through the mirror of the vanity you sat in front of, “Thank you, Pol. Really.”

“Where’s that bastard husband of yours?” Polly jokes as she stands behind you, inspecting her pearls in the mirror.

“His study, no doubt,” you joke with a slight smirk.

“The faith the two of you have in my is astounding,” Tommy says sarcastically, immerging through the en-suite dressed in his tuxedo.

Polly rolls her eyes and leaves the room, leaving the couple to stare at each other.

“You clean up well, Mr. Shelby,” you state, smiling as he approaches you. “Though I’m not sure if that’s because of you or your OBE.”

“Sometimes, I wonder if I should have continued loving you at a distance,” he comments humourously.

You laugh—a real laugh—and wrap your hands around his neck while his arms immediately find themselves around your waist.

“How’re you feeling, darling?” Tommy asks, referring to the mental and emotional preparation for the event that was about to start downstairs.

“I’m not the biggest fan of a lot of your colleagues, Tom,” you say honestly. “Their wives however...they give me thousands of pounds worth of information every sentence.”

“You never cease to amaze me with that mind of yours,” he tells you honestly.

“And you never cease to amaze me with how verbally affectionate you can be,” you quip back lightheartedly before Tommy softly kisses your lips.

“How ‘bout this?” he says once you pull away. “I take care of getting donations, you take care of getting more leverage on the labour bill I’m looking to pass.”

“Done,” you say with a smile before Tommy kisses you again. You begin to hear cars pull into the driveway when you try to pull away, but he keeps you close.

“Tom,” you giggle, breathless. “Tom, the guests are arriving.”

“I’ve waited for you for years, they can wait for you a little while longer,” he replies with a smirk before kissing you deeply once again.

[yamalegacy]

can you do nsfw headcanons with mt lady please?

can i? can i do n/sfw hcs for one of my favourite characters? of fucking course i am! and i will happily do so bc i'm big time horned monster for lil miss mt lady! and well, since i didn't know where to start, in true super extra french fashion, went overboard and finished the n/sfw alphabet for her 💛

i’d already done a, d, l, m, t, y but i added them to this post so that i can have a full alphabet in one post!

cw: mentions of dom/sub dynamics, rough sex, threesomes, dry humping, finger sucking and slight oral fixation probably, mentions of so many things tbh. yū is a brat. also, pubic hair and stretch marks? idk man

⚠️ MDNI not so casual reminder for minors to not interact with this post ⚠️

A — AFTERCARE ( what are they like after sex? )

she is a bottom through and through and a pillow princess, so get ready to have to take care of her because she gets even lazier than usual after a good fuck. she can get whiny and demanding, asking for a bath or tea or both, but you’ll always be rewarded with cuddles and kisses. if she doesn’t fall asleep, that is.

B — BODY PART ( which body part do they like the most? )

big time ass and thighs girl right here. she enjoys a handful (or two handfuls, you know), girl loves a shapely ass that feels nice in her hands. she can’t keep her hands off of a nice ass.

C — CUM ( any headcanon about cum )

she complains a lot about basically all things cum related at first lbr, not to the point of complaining about going down on you (well, depending on how much you come, really...). it’ll take a while for yū to accept to kiss you after you eat her out, but you’ll catch her moaning at the taste of her own arousal more than once. and well. maybe sucking on your fingers after you fucked her turns her on a whole fucking lot. don’t expect her to admit it out loud tho.

D — DREAMS ( do they have sex dreams? what kind? how do they react? )

fairly regular kinky dreamland visitor. yū hates her sex dreams though. she always wakes up just when things are getting good, so she wakes up wet, needy and desperate every time. if you aren’t sleeping together that night, she’ll send you messages to complain, or even call you, hoping for a quickie over the phone. if you’re in her bed, she won’t care what time it is, she’ll wake you up and demand that you make her come. if you ignore her and go back to sleep, be ready to deal with a grumpy pro hero all day long (poor kamui woods has heard her complain about it way too many times and wishes he could forget everything she’s told him, especially that one time she dreamed about a threesome with you and him).

E — EXPERIENCE ( how much experience do they have? )

a lot less than you’d expect her to. yū is still young and she’s been extremely busy trying to become a pro hero so she hasn’t had that much time to experiment. she’s had a few partners, but it’s mostly been vanilla experiences for her.

F — FAVORITE POSITION ( what is their favorite sex position? )

she likes when things are close and personal, so missionary is always good with her, honestly. she loves being able to see your face and kiss you when you fuck her. yū also enjoys being bent over your lap, so that you can fuck her with your fingers and pull at her hair — learn how to multi-task, my friend, and she’ll be putty in your hands.

G — GRAB ( where do they like to have their hands on you the most? )

ass ass ass. thighs. ass. there’s very few things that yū loves more than a good ass and she will never stop touching it when it’s within her reach. when she is acting jealous or possessive, she tends to grab you by the wrists. if she’s still feeling possessive when you get home, she will crawl on top of you and keep her fingers wrapped around your wrists for a while, and then intertwine your fingers. yū has a habit of squeezing, it’s a way for her to make sure that you’re there, with her, that you aren’t going to go away.

H — HOT & BOTHERED ( what are they like when turned on? )

oh boy. is she a wild one! no matter what, she will be needy, but it might manifest in two very different ways. 1) she’ll give you the cold shoulder and pretend that she totally isn’t horny and desperate, she’s stubborn like that, but she sucks at hiding those things from you; she always presses her thighs together, that’s her biggest tell 2) she’ll just outright initiate intimacy, kiss your neck, straddle your lap and grind on your thigh.

I — INTIMACY ( how caring are they during/after sex? )

yū isn’t exactly the most gentle of lovers in general, even outside of your sex life. she is good with gentle touches, like caressing you, touching your hair, but when it comes to sex... little miss pillow princess expects you to take care of her. and she can be pretty demanding about it. but her habit of holding your hands is one of the ways she shows she cares.

J — JACK OFF ( any masturbation headcanon )

when adrenaline sets down after a day at work, yū needs the release more than anything, it’s also a really good way for her to relieve some stress. being a pro hero isn’t easy every day after all! she tends to want to make it quick because she doesn’t have all that much patience, which is exactly why she avoids penetration when touching herself; she’s all about rubbing her clit and vibrators — and she knows how to make it rough and quick.

K — KINK ( favorites? which ones do they keep secret? )

(semi) public sex, edging, overstimulation and multiple orgasms. dominance and any display of dominance that might be associated with a dom/sub dynamic, really. yū is a sub and it shows. she’ll complain about orgasm control because she’s not getting the release she needs, but it’s one of her favorite things. she has a bit of an oral fixation, bit of an obsession with sucking your fingers and licking them clean after you’ve fucked her, but she... well, she doesn’t want to admit it tho. it’s not that much of a secret since it’s become extremely obvious to you. on the other hand, she wouldn’t mind trying some roleplay/petplay and a bit more of degradation, but she sure af would mind saying it out-loud.

L — LOCATION ( what is their favorite place to have sex? )

being the pillow princess that she is, yū will always favor a comfortable bed over anything else, but it doesn’t mean that she doesn’t enjoy sex in other places. the two of you have become well acquainted with the couch at her agency (which has led to some awkward situations when you realized too late that you weren’t actually alone in the building).

M — MOTIVATION ( what turns them on? )

extremely sensitive and painfully easy to turn on. you barely have to try to turn her on most of the time, really. run your fingers on her inner thighs, grab her by the waist, whisper in her ear about what you want to do to her and she’ll be ready to go. yū will complain a lot if you do it in public, but that’s only because it gets her turned on in record time! hearing your voice, your praises, spurs her on better than anything else.

N — NOPE ( any turn offs or hard limits? )

she is a bit claustrophobic and her quirk makes it dangerous for her to feel trapped, which is why you have a safeword. she doesn’t like being handcuffed or tied down unless she knows she has an easy way out. she likes when you sit on her face, but not for too long, for the same reasons.

O — ORAL ( do they like giving or receiving? a preference? )

yū is an oral enthusiast, of course. she prefers receiving (she isn’t a pillow princess for no reason), but she enjoys pleasing you and being good for you, so there’s not a doubt she enjoys going down on you.

P — PACE ( fast or slow? )

her impatience makes it harder for her to enjoy slow at times. she wants it hard and fast (partly because it’s much easier than dealing with feelings). and well, when you take it slow and edge her... she is so sensitive that she’s come without permission on accident more than once because she just can’t control it. fast is easier because then she knows you just expect her to come.

Q — QUICKIE ( are they up for a quickie? )

always. all the time. never not up for a quickie.

R — ROMANCE ( do they like romantic gestures to set the mood? )

while she likes the idea on paper, the whole concept of taking the time to enjoy the moment, have nice scented candles and a warm bath, and she might put some effort into it when she has days off tbh. but it’s mt lady we’re talking about, you should know better than to expect all that romance fantasy! yū still knows how to surprise you from time to time.

S — STAMINA ( how long can they last? )

yū is a pro hero. she has years of training behind her and regularly works up to stay in shape, so she definitely has the stamina to go several rounds! but depending on how tiring her day has been. honestly, she might not make it to a first orgasm one some days, but those are rare occasions.

T — TALK ( what is their dirty talk like? )

yū isn’t necessarily the best with words; she’s all for kisses and touches. but if you’re touching her the right way, she’ll tell you how good you are. she won’t hesitate to tell you that she’s all yours and that she’s wet just for you.

U — UNFAIR ( how much do they tease? )

this woman. she knows your weaknesses, she knows what turns you on, what makes you want her the most. she likes to provoke more than to really tease; she wears the outfits that you love the most on her, the cute bras that push her tits up just right, the pretty sets of lingerie that she’s bought to look nice for you. if she’s feeling mean, she’ll swat your hands away when you try to touch her, but honestly, it won’t last long because. well. once again, yū is extremely impatient and there’s no much that can be done about it.

V — VOLUME ( how loud are they? )

makes a lot of noises but isn’t super loud in general. moans and whines, a lot of them. she makes the prettiest noises, honestly.

W — WILD CARD

you can't tell me that with her quirk she doesn't have stretch marks. she kinda hates them and is glad that her hero costume hides them, but seriously, just take a minute to kiss them and run your fingers over them. funnily enough, while she hates her own stretch marks, she could spend hours appreciating yours.

X — X-RAY ( any headcanon about their bodies and grooming habits )

yū takes really good care of herself and her body — she doesn’t like to shave everything off when it comes to her pubic hair, she keeps it clean and trimmed tho. she has very nice ethics when it comes to her appearance. shaves, no waxing, she hates the idea of having to go to a salon and have a stranger touch her, even if it’s their job.

Y — YEARNING ( how desperate do they tend to be? )

mt. lady is queen of yearning. she’s also queen of pretending that she doesn’t miss you all the time. if work takes over her life for a few days and she can’t see you for a while, you can expect her to just be glued to you the second she sees you again. she’ll be extra needy and probably want to ride your thigh. she wouldn’t be able to let you go. and yet she’ll try (and fail) to pretend like she didn’t miss you and wasn’t desperate to feel you again.

Z — ZZZZ… ( how quickly do they fall asleep? )

well... it’s happened a few times that she fell asleep embarrassingly quickly after an orgasm... let’s say you’ve stopped counting how many times she’s fallen asleep with your fingers in her mouth.

[shoichee]

ALSO CAN I ASK FOR SOME RANDOM GOM HCS U HAVE? like just random ones u have or if u want like some toxic hcs abt them :D

I’m assuming that I can include their negative traits of their personalities as well 👀 Also including Momoi in this… lots of analyzing for this hc, so I used my brain here pls appreciate AGAIN these are all headcanons/interpretations of possible toxic hcs about them and only a few are canon

[Headcanons]

Kuroko Tetsuya

Kuroko is the hardest person to find a “negative/toxic” trait in, and it doesn’t seem like he has any

kind, understanding, hardworking, and compassionate; he’s everything a good-natured protagonist is

but he’s only like this to people/hobbies he cares about/close with; anything else he’s quite apathetic and also very passive/neutral about

the biggest hint to this is when Akashi criticizes Kuroko for cherry-picking who the GoMs should “go all out against” and who to casually toy with

and Akashi is absolutely correct

most of the series is portrayed through Kuroko’s perspective, and Akashi is the first direct outside perspective who comments on his actions/attitude

it’s obviously not that Kuroko didn’t “notice”... he clearly sees and knows what these GoMs are doing; after all, he had a conversation with Aomine about how observant he is to everything around him

of course, if you were close to him, all your opinions and issues matter to him

it’s the fact that what’s not really important to him is suddenly now important just because someone he knows is involved

just an example: if someone was advocating climate change, he has no opinion on it until someone he knows cares about the issue

in other words, he has a subtle hypocritical view on things, especially when he interacts with others

another clear negative trait could be that he’s too idealistic or perhaps naive, seeing things in a clear black-or-white picture and not necessarily a gray area

WE know, as an audience, that the GoMs honestly needed therapy and a proper adult to guide their out-of-control talents

but Kuroko, in his eyes, had viewed them as “bad” and “evil” in their ways of basketball until they changed after their respective matches

he’s probably someone who doesn’t yield to other opinions once he forms his own, and this may make him unable to consider things in other people’s perspectives

which is again, ironic: someone who doesn’t have generally a strong stance but once they do, it’s very unyielding, which further proves Akashi’s comment about Kuroko’s tendency to nitpick which to care about

a final hc about a potential flaw he might have here in a different ask!

Kise Ryota

y’all… it’s as canon as day that he has a mean side

straight from the author himself, it’s confirmed that Kise is only kind to those who he respects, and to the rest, he’s cold-hearted

in the manga, it’s very clear that he’s super judgmental on every first impression on people he meets, boxing them into categories based on the way they look, act, and speak

only when they surpass his preset expectations (low or high depends on his preliminary judgments of them) is when he opens his mind to the rest of their personality

this is a very close-minded way of thinking, and I hope I don’t need to explain why LOL

this can be interpreted as him being two-faced by the majority of the people in his school

his way of speaking can definitely be very cruel and crass, and to sensitive people, his words can easily shatter hearts

Kise’s negative/toxic traits are pretty straightforward here, so let’s move on

Midorima Shintarou

his harsh words can be considered a “negative” part of his personality, but I think it’s a lot more than just that

it’s confirmed in the series that he’s a bystander and almost always minds his own business

on one hand, one can say he’s self-driven and that he constantly strives for self-improvement

on the other, it can be interpreted as him being very dangerously ambitious and selfish, in which most actions he takes are for the sole reason of self-improvement and not for altruistic reasons

for example, when he helped Kuroko and Kagami in the training camp, it was under the reasoning that them becoming stronger would be a good challenge for himself to test and learn

that’s not to say that he can’t have friends, but most friendships he’s built are with capable people who can potentially provide him with some new beneficial skill/goal to strive towards

after all, he’s only learned to trust Takao as a friend only after seeing him as someone capable

because he’s so focused on himself, he’s extremely likely to turn a blind eye to injustice, most also likely to use Oha Asa to justify their “misfortunes” as he continues on his day

he’s not cold-hearted, but altruism comes by Midorima a lot rarer than the average person

now, we know that his Oha Asa aspect is used to balance his serious side as the “comedic side” of him, but if we really think about it, his obsessions with the horoscopes could be a huge obstacle in the future, where he may refuse to listen/depend on others in favor of his own intuition and the stars; after all, no one knows everything, and depending on the stars as one’s next source of advice and guidance isn’t a sound decision to commit themselves to

he seems like the person who overthinks and jumps to conclusions when it comes to social situations, but instead of confronting the person, he turns to fate and fortune if Takao isn’t near to help

Aomine Daiki

I wouldn’t be surprised if Aomine had a skewed sense of beauty standards from all those magazines he consumed and from being around Momoi for the majority of his life

of course anyone can distinguish pieces of media from reality, but during the most impressionable years of life, without experiencing other types of people and physiques, he would have limited knowledge on what “beauty” is and whatnot

this probably would be more of a problem in his adolescence than adult

a very given negative trait is his short temper plus his tendency to turn to physical violence when someone nags him to a certain point, seen with how he’s treated Wakamatsu in the beginning (though this seems to almost disappear by the end of the series)

what I’ve noticed in every scene he’s in, is that everything seems to revolve around him and his hobbies of basketball and Japanese idols

what I mean is that everytime we see Aomine, it’s always Momoi approaching to Aomine or just him always being the center of attention; never once has he approached Momoi for anything and it’s always been the other way around

in other words, people have to cater to him in order to get along with him/be in good graces (additional example: Imayoshi letting him do as he pleases to get him to be cooperative and participate in the games)

we’ve actually never seen Momoi’s hobbies outside of being a manager for her basketball teams and just anything basketball-related

he can be quite apathetic, choosing to only pay attention and try in things he’s interested in… which is basketball and those magazines

he seems to mature in the Last Game though, so I’m not quite sure to what extent these headcanons would apply to older Aomine (these also don’t really apply to Puremine)

Momoi Satsuki

the author probably also included this type of anime trope as comedy, but belittling another female for her body is definitely a no-go in reality; I feel like this is something most people gloss over really lightly

her body comments on Riko are actually what made me skeptical of her character at first before the show really shows her entire personality

that being said, it seems that she always takes the opportunity to look down on other girls (especially to those she is a stranger to) as a sort of “competition” when there’s boys around

definitely at certain moments, she screams a “pick-me girl” type of person (real phenomenon, you can search this up!)

while Kuroko doesn’t seem to actively mind this, I think she also has no good sense of boundaries and what’s considered appropriate touch and consent; people can chalk this up to “oh it’s just infatuation,” but this definitely isn’t okay if we really think about this

her life also seems to revolve around either Aomine or Kuroko, and based from that, I’d feel like she’d have a difficult time forming her own identity/life separate from her “manager life,” especially once she graduates from Touou

can definitely be interpreted as too clingy at certain moments, while others may think it’s her way of showing that she cares

Murasakibara Atsushi

most people would chalk up Murasakibara as “lazy,” and on the surface level, it does appear to look that way…

I think his true negative trait is that he has a lack of intrinsic motivations to drive him to do things

it’s different from being lazy; someone can be lazy while still having a goal, and certainly someone can be lazy while they’re motivated by thoughts of “I want to learn more,” “I want to get stronger,” etc. (you guys, it’s me right now in college)

and he doesn’t have that

part of this was contributed to the fact that he’s already so gifted with genetics and thus, there’s never been a goal for him to have to work towards to when he’s already at the top

he doesn’t actively seek out, and while that may be a characteristic of sloth, it’s not exactly right either

he willingly does things if people around him give him the motivations/reasons to do so; a person of sloth wouldn’t do anything even with all the motivations and goals handed right to their face

snacks/food are examples of extrinsic motivations that fuel him to carry on daily life

Himuro is always the main motivator for Murasakibara to come out and watch matches, and he also does whatever Akashi orders in both Teiko and present days // a person who can give the giant the motivation to do tasks would get along with him the most

searching out for a challenge against his basketball skills is something that’s never crossed his mind

why? he grew to be like the way he is because of the lack of results from his “search” of a challenge throughout his games

again, it’s only when Murasakibara gets handed a silver-platter of a challenge, Jason Silver, that actively gets him pumped up and raring to go

as such, Murasakibara is equivalent to a rusty machine, extremely difficult to start up and find compatibility with, but very powerful and efficient once he finds that spark

Murasakibara finding any partner or friend in the future would be extremely difficult because he ticks a different tune from the rest

Akashi Seijuro

his entire Bokushi side was a giant-ass red flag for very obvious reasons LOL anyways, moving on…

it’s difficult to pinpoint a negative characteristic for Oreshi because he’s the pinnacle of a gentleman character… but that technically is also his negative trait

for him to maintain that perfect image for himself and others, he has always carried himself in such a way that doesn’t allow for errors or expressions of “weakness”

thus, bottling up his frustrations and emotions to the point of no return is something very familiar to Akashi, and I’d feel like Bokushi is the result of his overflowing emotions left unchecked in the first place

I also predict that if Akashi continues to carry himself without letting himself wind down and feel emotions on the spot rather than locking it up inside him, a day will come when he splits into two halves again with a “new” Bokushi to deal with his current life (and let the current Oreshi take a backseat in his psyche to take a break from the turmoil)

also will tend to overwork himself to manage people’s expectations as well as his own, and he’s not one to depend on people not because he sees them as inferior or incapable, but because he’s doing this out of habit from being in positions of authority and responsibility for much of his life

and so, he may tend to hide important things or just not speak about his problems in general to those close to him because he feels like he can do it all himself and spare everyone the work and stress associated with them (a leader mentality)

throughout the majority of his life being calm and calculated, his emotions would definitely escape from him in forms of uncontrollable lashes of anger… before he would realize what he’s done… that is, assuming that another Bokushi hasn’t form within his subconscious yet

[smaidjor]

i know they're losing (chapter 2)

Hello everyone! Since the last chapter received such a positive response (well, if screaming could be called a positive response), I've decided to not make you all wait long for the second chapter of this fic. Also, I have no self-control. Anyways!

Once again obligatory disclaimer this is characters not people, don't ship real people, etc.

Chapter Title: over snow and winter's morn

Chapter Wordcount: 3203

Content warnings: more discussion of death, also quite a bit of Scott being a bit of a dick. He's going through it, besties.

AO3 Link

Chapter 1

Actual fic under the cut:

Jimmy doesn’t get a chance to return the ring any time in the next few weeks. Scott must have told Katherine that he visited, since she doesn’t come to bother him about it, and every time Jimmy tries to go to Rivendell, something gets in the way. Demon attacks, urgent business in his empire, once even Scott’s own guards turning him away. Apparently Scott is a ‘busy elf’. Jimmy doesn’t doubt he is, but he also doesn’t doubt that Scott’s actively trying to avoid him. Scott is a petty man, ultimately, and Jimmy knows this, used to love it like he loved all his husband’s flaws, all his imperfections that were perfect to Jimmy. Now, though, it just hurts that Scott’s turning that pettiness on him.

Finally, something changes. Jimmy gets an invitation (in person!) from one of his closest allies; Lizzie wants to hold a ball, and she wants as many people as possible to come. It will be fancy and formal, with dancing and politics and all the things Jimmy’s just a bit awkward with, but he is an extrovert at heart, and well...Scott will be there, as Lizzie warns him.

“I know you and him don’t really get on, so I get if you don’t want to come. I really hope you will, though, it’s going to be a fun night!”

Jimmy nods. “I’ll be there! I need to talk to Scott anyways, actually, got to return this ring to him. It’s important, I think.”

“Gotcha! See you there,” Lizzie says with a broad smile. Jimmy appreciates that she doesn’t ask any questions about the ring, especially given that it’s the one thing holding together his emotional state right now.

And that’s how he finds himself frantically searching for something fancy enough to wear to a formal ball, wishing he’d had the forethought to plan for this a bit better. Scott would have planned, he thinks, would have had an outfit laid out for each of them and the time it would take them to get there exactly calculated.

He shakes that thought off, settling for a green tunic with copper accents. It’s not the most elegant thing in the world, especially when you take into account the slime that’s dripped onto it, but it’ll have to do. It’s representative of his empire for sure, and the copper is a nod to his ally. It’s good enough, and that’s what matters, Jimmy thinks.

Lizzie greets him when he enters the ballroom, smiling widely with her new fiance by her side. “Jimmy! Glad you could make it!”

“Yeah, yeah, I did make it! Here I am!” The smile he gives her is genuine; he likes Lizzie. She's fierce and kind all at once, the best kind of ally.

Joel offers him a brief wave, which Jimmy happily returns before Lizzie drags him off to chat.

“So, heard from a little birdy you’ve actually been visiting Scott,” Lizzie says, a grin like the cat that got the bird on her face.

“As a favor to Katherine,” Jimmy quickly clarifies.

She nods. “She did say that, yes. She also said she heard about the visit from Scott himself.”

Jimmy hates himself a little for being pathetic enough to ask “What did- did she say what he said? Was he talking about me?”

“She didn’t say exactly, but he seemed ‘shaken up’, apparently...and a little wistful.”

“Oh, no. Lizzie, no.”

“Say, why did you have his ring?” She’s still grinning, a little more evil this time.

“It’s a long story!” Jimmy blurts, and flees. How’s he supposed to say ‘oh we were married on a server where we thought we were going to permanently die and then we respawned here and now Scott’s refusing to talk to me because the grief over my last death is slowly killing him’ tactfully? There’s just no way to do it! Nice one, Jimmy, now she thinks you’re in love with him or something, he thinks ruefully. Not that he isn’t- wasn’t. Wasn’t. Scott’s made it very clear that he and Jimmy are through.

Still, even with his depressing thoughts, the ball is pretty okay. No one’s gotten assassinated, there haven’t been any demonic appearances, Lizzie’s already showing off her engagement ring, and he’s pretty sure Joey’s going off about how hot demons are. It’s a decent party, by empires standards.

Scott makes an appearance some twenty minutes or so later, stepping into the ballroom with typical elven grace. He’s not a very elven elf, as he once told Jimmy, short and sarcastic with a love for mortals, but he still looks twice as elegant as everyone else in the ballroom. The shakiness in his step from a few weeks ago seems entirely gone, and for a minute, Jimmy’s heart leaps in hope. Maybe he’s getting better?

Well, only one way to find out. Jimmy swallows the complicated knot of emotion in his chest as he crosses the ballroom, coming to an ungraceful stop in front of Scott. Up close, the elf looks worryingly pale, and there are dark circles under his eyes. He looks like a strong breeze might sweep him away.

“Lord Codfather,” Scott greets.

“Elvenking,” Jimmy returns, dipping his head a little. Look, Scott, he can be formal too, alright? “Care for a dance?”

Scott stares for a long moment before giving a single nod. “I suppose I wouldn’t mind.” He takes Jimmy’s outstretched hand in his own gloved one, letting Jimmy put a hand on his waist as they start into a simple waltz.

Now, Jimmy is a terrible dancer, and he’s not too proud to admit it. He steps on Scott’s feet, gets off-rhythm once or twice, and nearly crashes them straight into Lizzie and Joel. But despite their current status as enemies(ex-spouses?), Scott says nothing about it. He’s silent, in fact, seemingly caught up in the music. There’s something wistful about his expression, something soft and gentle hidden under his icy facade. If Jimmy tries hard enough, he can almost pretend that the two of them are back in 3rd life, dancing under the stars, and Scott is looking at him like he’s the most precious thing in the world.

The illusion is shattered, however, by how heavily Scott is leaning on him by the end of the dance. He’s unsteady on his feet, grip like iron on Jimmy’s hand and shoulder. Though Jimmy can’t feel his hands though the gloves, when he brushes against Scott’s arm, it’s still a little too cold to be entirely right.

The music slows and then pauses before the next song, and they head for the edge of the dance floor.

“Thank you for the dance, Codfather,” Scott says. He steps away, face falling back into the emotionless facade so quickly it’s hard to be sure the tender expression of a moment before wasn’t a dream.

That’s the final straw for Jimmy’s fragile self-control. “Can we please stop acting like we don’t know each other?”

“What else do you want from me?” Scott snaps back.

“I- something! Anything! Just acknowledge that I exist, won’t you?”

“Acknowledging you exist doesn’t mean I’m still in love with you, you know.”

“I know,” Jimmy says, a little softer, a little bitter. “I know, trust me. I just want you to stop- to stop hurting yourself to try and avoid pain!”

“That’s not what I’m do-”

“Then what are you doing? Enlighten me, o wise elf!” They’ve kept their voices low enough, but people nearby are still starting to stare at them. Jimmy can’t bring himself to care. “You told me it would destroy you to lose me, but you’re losing me now by pushing me away!”

Scott’s expression is pained for a moment before he covers it with a glare. “I’m trying to do what’s best for the both of us, Jimmy.”

“No you’re-”

“I am an elf, and I cannot love a mortal. Humans are quick flames, burning and changing quickly. You’ll fall in love again, and you’ll forget me. There will be a mortal who loves you- I’m sure there are many already.”

“But I don’t want a mortal,” Jimmy protests. “I want you.”

“You can’t have me.”

“But why? Why, Scott?” His voice breaks, embarrassingly enough. “You said you loved me, you promised me all the time we’d be able to- to carve out, to steal from the universe.”

“I can’t give you that!” Scott snaps. “You’ll live sixty more years, maybe, a fraction of my life, a blink of an eye to an elf, and I can’t even give you that long! Not when I have to be the elvenking before anything else. Nothing I can do will ever be enough for you.”

“Enough for me? For ME? All I want is for you not to die to your own dumb plan and acknowledge my existance once in a while!”

“And all I want is for you to realize I can’t love you again!”

“Why can’t you care about me?”

“Why can’t you move on?” Scott counters.

“You’re not moving on, you’re just trying to forget!” Jimmy shouts.

In the silence that follows, he realizes that most of the ballroom must have heard the end of their little lovers’ quarrel. In fact, Lizzie’s somehow appeared next to him, laying a hand on his arm.

“Is everything alright, boys?” Her tight smile says that they will most certainly get kicked out of the ball if they continue this, and Jimmy can’t blame her.

“My apologies, Ocean Queen,” Scott says, switching to a formal tone with ease that Jimmy envies. He dips his head in respect, and only Jimmy sees how his hands tremble. “Everything is alright, but I am afraid I will have to leave early.”

She smiles again, dangerous this time. “No need to worry, Lord Smajor. Do try to avoid picking fights with my allies, next time, though.”

“It won’t happen again,” he promises, and sweeps away.

“Coward!” Jimmy shouts after him, anger making him bold. “You’re a coward, Scott!”

“Stop it,” Lizzie scolds. “You’ve already made quite the scene, and I did essentially kick him out. I’m not sure how much further you really want to carry it.”

“He is though, Lizzie, he’s a coward! Doesn’t want to face me because that means facing- well, facing everything that’s happened!”

“What do you mean, everything that’s happened?” Lizzie turns to the gathered audience of people who have been watching the spat, shooing them off as best as possible. They slowly disperse, thank goodness. “You and he are enemies, right?”

Jimmy almost winces. “It’s a bit- it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

“I can see that. Jimmy, that looked like a messy breakup!”

“It, um, well, it was. Sort of.”

“Oh, Jimmy.” Lizzie’s giving him a sympathetic look, which she follows up with a tight hug. “Next time, how about we don’t invite him?”

He nods against her shoulder, rage leaving him as quickly as it came. Instead, he just feels...tired. “Thanks, Lizzie.”

“Of course. We look after each other, yeah?’

“Yeah.”

Jimmy leaves the ball exhausted, still reeling from everything that happened. The few lingering bits of anger are what gets him home, a bitter taste in his mouth from the bitter words he spat. Coward! You’re a coward, Scott! He refuses to regret them.

Scott’s ring nearly ends up in the swamp again, but Jimmy’s cooled down enough by the time he gets back that he can’t bear to throw it away. Instead, it goes in a box which he tucks into his old storage chest, somewhere he’ll never have to see it again. Scott can go to hell if he wants the ring back after all that.

-

For a while, Jimmy’s plan to tuck the ring and never think about Scott again seems to be working. Lizzie visits a few times to check on him, but she never asks specifically about Scott, and Jimmy doesn’t say anything about him. He receives radio silence from Rivendell, and he tells himself that it’s good, that he doesn’t want to hear from Scott.

So yes, his plan is working, up until he gets a knock on his door and opens it to find Scott there.

The elf looks terrible, frankly, almost worse than he did at the ball. His hair, which is usually so nicely done, is a mess, cyan strands falling all across his face. His clothes are wrinkled and have swamp mud on them, his eyes have dark circles as violent as bruises, and he’s swaying a tiny bit. In short, he looks like he didn’t sleep for a week, chugged coffee, and fought god in a denny’s parking lot.

Jimmy thinks he’s kinda hot.

No, he doesn’t. Fake news, brain.

“Hi,” Scott says.

“Scott? What- why are you here?” Jimmy’s voice rises, in shock or outrage even he doesn’t know.

“I came to apologize.” Though he looks like he’s going to pass out at any second, Scott’s voice is steady. “I was scared- I am scared. I’m terrified to lose you again. But I shouldn’t have pushed you away and hurt you.”

“No, you shouldn’t have!” Jimmy snaps, but there’s little real rage behind it.

“I know. I- uh- fuck.” Scott’s hands are shaking as he pulls out a little box from some hidden pocket. “I brought a gift as an apology.”

Jimmy takes it, curious despite himself, and finds that what’s inside is a silver bracelet with little crystals embedded in it. Flowers are the predominant design; he recognizes roses, hyacinths, irises, anemone, and poppies. On the underside, there’s elven lettering, though Jimmy has no clue what it says. The whole thing is a little clumsy, not quite as professionally made as the ring Scott once gave him, and Jimmy looks up at Scott. “Did you make this yourself?”

“Mhm. I did my best, but it’s not as nice as I’d like.”

“It’s pretty,” Jimmy says.

Scott’s shoulders slump with relief. “It’s spelled, too. Protection, good fortune, that sort of thing.”

“Do the flowers mean something?”

“They do.”

Jimmy doesn’t press for details.

“I-” Scott starts again, a tremble in his voice that wasn’t there before. “I’m sorry, Jimmy, I really am. I won’t ask you to forgive me, but I needed to apologize before my time ran out.”

“Is it that- that dire?”

The barest nod. “This is what I chose to do with it. Making that, coming here. You deserved an apology.”

There’s a moment of awkward silence, Jimmy staring down at the bracelet.

Scott breaks it. “It wouldn’t be fair of me to ask you to love me. I can’t promise you eternity. I can’t promise you happiness. I can’t promise you that I won’t have to be the elvenking first and a husband second. But I am yours still, if you’ll have me.”

A part of Jimmy is very tempted to throw both Scott’s gift and his love back in his face. He can’t bring himself to stay mad, though, not when Scott’s looking at him like that, with so much raw vulnerability. So much devotion, like Jimmy’s the most precious thing he’s ever seen. It would be so, so easy to break that last strand of fragile hope in his expression; he’s offering up his heart on a silver platter, ready to shatter. Jimmy could- should- yell at him, reject his gift, tell him that he’s ruined any chance he has at Jimmy’s love.

Jimmy kisses him instead. It’s messy and it’s sudden and he very nearly drops Scott’s gift in the swamp in his haste to tangle his hands in Scott’s hair and press their lips together, but it’s real.

The little startled noise Scott makes gets cut off by Jimmy’s mouth on his. Scott’s lips are chapped and taste a little of glowberries, but Jimmy doesn’t care. He’s going to kiss his damn husband, something he thought he was never going to get to do again.

When they finally have to separate, Scott’s breathing hard, cheeks flushed. It’s a good look on him, Jimmy thinks, much more alive than his pale, rigid expression from before.

“So, I’ll take that as you want to stay married?” Scott’s voice is wry, collected, but his blush ruins the smooth effect.

“Of course I do! You absolute idiot!”

“Just checking.”

Jimmy kisses him again, just to shut him up. Scott goes with it easily, leaning into Jimmy’s embrace without complaint.

They pull apart quicker this time, and Jimmy holds the bracelet out. “Can you help me put this on?”

Scott nods. His hands are cold against the skin of Jimmy’s wrist when he fastens the clasp, but Jimmy grabs them and holds them in his own warm ones until they don’t feel quite so much like ice. It’s something. It’s a beginning.

“Come in and catch up with me?” Jimmy offers.

Scott nods again, and he doesn’t let go of Jimmy’s hand when Jimmy turns to go inside.

They talk about a lot of things. Empires, 3rd life, nightmares. Pufferfish, cake, flowers. They talk about the trials and tribulations of ruling; really, Jimmy complains that people keep attacking him and Scott nods in sympathy.

Eventually, though, the sun is starting to set.

“I need to get home,” Scott says. “You need sleep, not to stay up all night talking.” He goes to get up, and Jimmy immediately lunges, catching his sleeve.

“Don’t go! Please,” he adds, feeling his face flush at how desperate he sounds.

“Jimmy, darling, we both need to sleep.”

“We can sleep! I just….nevermind.”

“No, no.” Scott kneels back down, peering at him like Jimmy’s a puzzle that needs solving. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Jimmy.”

“I don’t want to be alone!” Jimmy blurts, and immediately flushes again. “It’s just, I’ve been alone for a long time, and there’s this demon thing that keeps showing up, and I’ve only just got you back, I’m not ready to let you go, and-”

“Hold on. What was that about a demon?”

“There’s this demon creature that I keep seeing, and it’s really messing with me,” he manages. “It sounds like you, sometimes, but all distorted, and I can’t handle it! You know me, I’m not brave or smart or anything, I’m just Jimmy!”

Scott’s frowning, worry wrinkling his brow. “Alright. How about you come to Rivendell for the night, then? I can protect us both easier there.”

Jimmy nods, feeling especially pitiful as Scott helps him to his feet. “Thank you.”

“Always. Do you still have the ring I gave you?”

“I do, I just….give me a moment to remember where I put it.”

“Good. It’s important.” Scott doesn’t elaborate, and Jimmy is too distracted looking for the ring to ask what he means.

Scott’s offer of protection feels flimsier when he has to lean on Jimmy as they travel back to Rivendell, but even then, it’s impossible to feel quite so afraid now that Jimmy isn’t alone anymore. And it’s even harder to fear anything that could happen when he’s safe in a warm bed, his head tucked against his husband’s chest. They’ll be okay, Jimmy thinks. They’ve been given another chance, and this time they’re going to get it right.

[sly-merlin]

KILLING ME - 12 |n.y

pairing : law student!reader + yuta

genre :    angst , mafia au/ arranged marriage au.

warnings of this chapter : mentions of blood and brutality. For future chapters, major character death(s).

words : 

summary : “life’s never fair y/n. realise it as soon as you can . it is the only secret for living a regretless life.”                                  

or              

“  curiousity got the cat hitched”

K.M masterlist

A/n : this was supposed to be a longer chapter. The Tumblr was bring problematic since three days. This is not how the chapter was supposed to end but i couldn't post anything longer than this so i had to make changes to end it on a surprise tone like other chapters. I hope you still enjoy it.

Was he asking for too much?

His unsteady hand rose and fell, internal monologue stopping him from knocking on the door. Johnny wasn't sure how he even ended up outside taeyong's door. One second he was fighting with his thoughts and the next second he found himself jumping out of his car, almost ready to confront the person behind the door. 

He took a deep breath and was about to drum the wood when the door opened from inside, taeyong's sleepy figure greeting him instantly.

"John. Why are you here so late? Do you need something?"  from red pressed strikes on taeyong’s face, anyone would have guessed that he had been sleeping.

“Johnny! I’m talking to you.” he waved his hand in front of johnny’s distracted eyes.

“Huh” 

“Do you want something?”

“y/n.”

Your life was back on the wagon. Not truly but with a few exceptions here and there, it certainly felt like the old days. You were in chois on weekdays and took tuitions on the weekends. You met your friends while visiting the library and everything felt quite normal. Even with a few oddities, that being the five day training sessions with Jungwoo, some new people in your life, a residence that you felt happy coming back to, absence of someone that you’d never grown a liking for, everything was smooth. Just like before. The only thing you missed was some time. Time for yourself. Though you lived alone, which was a luxury nearing its end, you barely got a few minutes alone with your mind and that was something you craved more than the drink shoved in your hand at the moment. 

You loved your friends, without any doubt, but they lived with the bad habit of disregarding your feelings, feelings that said you would be anywhere but the restaurant you were sitting in. 

“y/n is going into hibernation again.” minjun’s voice broke your trance.

“What did you say?" You challenged him but he cowered in his seat and turned his focus on the soggy french fries instead. When he silenced, yugyeom spoke up, 

“Yo y/n. Don’t scare the child. Just drink away your sorrows. The wine is quite expensive here. If you are making me pay then at least make it worth it."

Suddenly, Jungkook's loud snorting caught everyone's attention as they all quietened, waiting for him to reveal the reasons for his action. Swirling his burgundy glass, he chugged the last bit of the drink before leaning backwards in his chair, relaxing himself.

"Now what's the drama with You" Yeong grumbled, clearly intoxicated. 

"She's already hammered" minjun giggled. 

"When are you going to invite us to your house y/n?" Jungkook chimed in, a smirk plastered on his blushed face. 

"Oh yes. Ms. Lawyer no more l-lives i-in the d-dorms." Yeong hiccupped, losing the grip on the bottle of soju. Yugyeom chuckled at her antics before snatching the bottle away to avoid any fuss.

"I also meant to ask you but you are never available for more than an hour or so. Are you doing alright" gyeom shifted his chair towards you while keeping a hand on his girlfriend's back.

You didn't know how to reply or what to trump up so they'd stop pestering you. However, you had no other choice than to continue with the streak you had started a few months ago.

"Of course i want to have you there but my roommate is very, how to explain, very bitchy. He got this corporate job and he-he works from home so I'm supposed to pretend like I do not exist and keep quiet. That includes no outsiders as well. It's gonna be like this for a few months i guess"

You mumbled the last part.

 You averted your eyes but didn't mean you could've escaped their intense judgemental gaze. You repeated the whole lie that you recited to arrange it in the box of deceit that you were filling since the commencement of these stories. Forgetting any of these would mean shattering their trust. And that was exactly what you were supposed to protect.

Once reiterated, you gathered how foolish the sentence was. Had it been said to you, there wasn't a chance of putting your belief in it. But your company was drunk enough to believe it; two of them were enough to carry the whole table.

"Wow. How horrible of him. We should take y/n with us yugy. She'd be happy and she can invite anyone." Yeong low-key let out a little drunk growl to press her point. 

Yugyeom cooed at her before replying,

"And where will you live? Our apartment has only two rooms and both are occupied. Where do you plan to settle down instead?"

His question made her think harder than she ever had in life as she picked at her jutted out lower lip. 

"Laundry room. You and me, will live in the laundry room because y/n needs a nice home."

"I already have a nice home yeongie." You took the opportunity, got up and reached out to pinch her cheeks, "but you won't know unless you are sober. Take her home, yugy. I'm also sleepy so I'll get going. See you on Tuesday." 

" It's already 11. Let me drop you home." Jungkook suggested, startling you.

"No It-

"Yeah you drop her. I'll take Yeong and minjun home but help me in carrying their asses to the car please." Yugyeom pleaded. He left the bills on the table and took Yeong in his arms. You expected jungkook to do the same but he passed minjun your shoulders instead,

"Wait for me outside. I have to call someone first." and he walked away, his lover grinning on your shoulder like it was the funniest thing in the world but you were fine as long as their drunken state saved you from some heavy confrontation. The only person left was jungkook and you had the perfect idea to dodge him as well. 

"So the same place or are you staying in the dorms this weekend?" He asked, driving out of the busy street.

"Just drop me at the nearest bus station. I'll ta-

"Nakamoto residence or the dorms y/n" you almost choked on the air as the word left his lips. Taking a bus home had seemed like the perfect plan but you had overvalued your common sense. Again.

"What are you talking about?" With hesitation evident in your voice, you muttered.

"Do you really think you'd go to a random house in front of me that I know nothing about and you'd be left alone without questions. I was there until the door was opened by someone. You really thought I'd have left you with a stranger. But i knew something was fishy when the receptionist told me that it's a home sweet home of Mr and Mrs nakamoto. Now spill before I get yugyeom to ask in his own way." He shifted the gears in frustration, your relaxed persona bothering him to no end. Getting jungkook wokred up wasn't a grunt work. He was like a matchstick, always ready to be ignited by any possible frictional surface. 

"It's not what you are thin-

"Don't lie please," he started, words dangerously polite, "If he's your boyfriend then there's no need to hide y/n. We would always be there to support you. When, how, why, i don't want you to feel pressured to answer me. Just because you go around with no commitment tag doesn't mean we'd judge you if you ever got in a relationship. We love you. Make us part of your life like we do. Can't we just expect that much." 

You gulped at how disappointed he sounded. He was right. You needed to include them in your life adventures but how were you supposed to explain him the riots you were dealing with. How were you supposed to spill everything without him getting his sword out. That would only lead to more troubles than you had the power to deal with. Trouble for you, him and for everyone who'd be passed that secrecy. 

So you begged, for some more time until you'd be more than comfortable to let all of them into your present life. 

Like every other word, this was also a lie that, in the first place,  you never chose to proceed with. 

He might have give in to you, but you knew eventually you'd have to muster up the courage to answer him and that day would decide another turn of your future. 

And you would make sure, inter alia, to shift the wheels in a more likeable direction.

“Use your fists!” 

Jungwoo’s grip was strong. His one arm was holding your waist and the other was around your neck. It was painful but you knew he wasn’t going to let go easily this time. This was the third consecutive scuffle or demo fight with him within the span of the last forty five minutes and having lost the last two, awfully at that, expectation of some mercy was not very demanding on your part. But only if he would grant that! You heard his chuckle as you wriggled in his hold. He was clearly having a lot more fun than you were. There was no way you could’ve applied renjun and hyuck’s advice but you still tried to follow their vague instructions.

“Bit his arm and turn.”

“No, don’t. Turn around and hit his torso with your knees.” 

Bit him?

Halting your movements, a low grunt left your lips as you lowered your body and pressed your teeth on his flesh. He screeched and immediately retracted his arm. Taking advantage of his loosened grip on your waist, you whirled around and raised your knee to strike at his upper body. In an instant, your hands fell on your knees and you inhaled a harsh breath, regaining your strength. Jungwoo, on the other hand, was curled up on the floor like a baby. You wanted to laugh at him but the more astonishing thing was the lack of any noise from your cheerleaders. Right from the start, they were rooting for you like you were earning them some hard cash and now that you had done exactly what they had wanted, they were silent. 

“Wha-

you opened your mouth to speak but their lack of attention held you back. Their eyes were fixed at Jungwoo,who still laid where he had landed. 

“What did you do?” renjun shrieked.

“Exactly what you told me to!” you replied with heavy breathing.

“We said torso!”

“Yes and i hi-

Mechanically your hand slapped your face as you noticed the position of jungwoo’s hands. You had, mistakenly, kicked him in the groin which only meant more trouble for you. 

“Save me.” you mouthed to hyuck and renjun while approaching jungwoo. 

“Sorry teacher.” you mumbled.

He remained quiet for a few seconds and didn’t make any movement. When he did, you took a few steps back, afraid of his wrath. Palms down on the mat, he sat up and with painfully quiet voice spoke up,

“Looks like you won. Good j-job. I think i need to visit the medical room. You can go and celebrate.”

“Does it pain too much” pointing to his crotch and averting your eyes, you asked.

“No. not at all but i might need to adopt your kids someday. You know if i can’t make my own.” 

“Sorry” you cried.

“Dismissed.” his civil tone, probably due to the ache, glued you in the position.

When you didn't move, donghyuck came, took you by your arm and guided you for the door.

"He's just being dramatic. Just chill. Another hit and he'd be good to go." He giggled and was soon joined by renjun as well, who was now crouching down in front of jungwoo. 

"You sure?"

"If he doesn't then you can always give him your baby. Ofcourse after asking your husband." Only after he rambled, he realised what he had actually said. His face screamed surprise. To save him from spiralling into deep shame, you eased him by cutting off his apology,

"Ew hyuck. Give him one of yours if you want. Don't come for mine!" And you exited the door.

You were halfway through the basement when you realised the lack of your device. Running back, you were about to shout when you overheard their gossip.

"No, I'm telling you she meant to injure me so i won't teach her anymore or this might be the revenge of all the weapon training. Her knee is stronger than jeno's punch. Don't laugh at me you shits."

Jungwoo was whining. 

"Haha. Yeah ok. But i told you renjun, she's physically stronger than her. Kind of totally opposite." Hyuck's voice quietened at the end but before he could speak further, you interrupted,

"Like who hyuck?"

Their faces went blank at your question and the reason of sudden heaviness in the air was beyond your contemplation. 

"You don't want to answer? Fine. Maybe it's not my place to question." You simply stated before circling the mat to pick up your phone from the chair.

"No. It's not li-

"It's fine hyuck. Chill." You shrugged and walked away, deciding against pestering them for information that they clearly felt too uncomfortable to share. 

"You need a fucking lock on your bloody mouth." was the last thing you heard before they were out of your hearing.

What was the need to ask something when you knew you won't ever get an answer out of them. Everyone was beyond friendly with you but still, there were some borders that nobody dared to cross. Maybe the mention of that woman was one of them. Fear of some unknown ghost of embarrassment was swallowing you whole when you heard grunts. Loud ones. You were still in the basement, the scuffle center being at the far end. The stairs were in front of you. The  snarls and growls were coming from the other end of the basement. The election wasn't hard and you didn't want to give in to your curiosity but you did. Your feet, not cooperating with the voice in the back of your head that told you to turn away, took you ahead in the direction of the noise. Though the residence consisted of only one plot but the basement covered two. Unknown to everyone, the house next to B.N was also their property and it was only utilised for the underground space. Hence the never ending lane and the countless closed metal doors.

The echo got louder with each step you took. It’s been more than a month since you were visiting the basement but those noises had never crossed through you until today. The end doors were forbidden for you, according to what you were told but now that you were exposed to it, there was no chance of ignoring. No prudent person would ever overlook such a thing. That was the justification you were repeating as you took baby steps.

All the doors were closed except one at the very far end. You thought about peaking inside then halted as if your conscious called you. The whimpers also stopped for a minute or so but your heart skipped a few beats when a collision following with painful shriek reverberated in the empty space. The door, slightly ajar, was just a few strides away but you were too startled to even back away from your position. Same pattern of hit and shouts continued again. Unaware of the happenings, you stood there as If you were waiting for someone to separate you from the concrete beneath your feet.

Adding to your distress, the metal door opened abruptly and you realised, you were again at a place where you weren't meant to be.

"What are you doing here?" Jaehyun's growl broke you out of the unconscious state you had fell into. Mechanically, you eyes roamed across him to notice a body lying on the table inside the room, strained cries escaping his lips. The limp body was enough to put two and two together to conclude that he was being tortured. He was a victim of jaehyun's wrath. 

"I asked what ar-

"Y/N!" he picked up his hand to touch your shoulders but you distanced yourself when you noticed the stains covering his clothing and hands, the blood red prominently visible even under the low light. 

His gaze caught yours in time and his eyes softened noticing the fear in your body. 

Very slowly, he reached out for you but immediately stopped, taking a note of your quivering lip.

"Hey. It-its not blood. I ca-can explai- Y/N!" 

The yells of your name covered the whole arena as you rushed away, leaving a dazed jaehyun behind.

"Who was it jae?" 

Jaehyun saw your trembling figure diminishing while you ran away from him as if you were disgusted by him. Not that he expected any other reaction, some good time has passed since someone innocent had came across their work. To say the least, it was never pleasant to have someone witness their harsh manners.

"JAE!"

"Y/n. She saw the body and also the blood."

He mumbled to ten whose visage, upon hearing, instantly mirrored jaehyun's.

"What about him?" Ten pointed to the man, "he's not speaking shit"

"Finish him off if you want. I need to handle something else now"

You raced as fast as you could have. You had never thought of yourself as a weak person but the sight was gruesome to just disregard and walk off. With shaking legs, you finally made it upstairs but the ringing, only became more earsplitting. Your hand harshly rubbed at your chest as you tried to defuse the tension bubbling in your whole body. After what felt like minutes, you covered your ears as if it would stop the ringing. It certainly did not but surprisingly it was muffled. You removed your hands and the blaring returned again. But this time, you laboured yourself to look into your surroundings. You saw chenle, jisung, jaemin running back and forth from the kitchen while doyoung seemed to be scolding jeno for something. Few others were also there, cleaning the couches and spraying some fragrance in the air. Everyone seemed to be their own turmoil, origin was which was yet to be known.

That's when it hit you. Maybe your ears weren't booming due to fright. 

"Chenle"you screamed at the passing boy, "do you hear this sound?" You pointed your fingers in the air to exaggerate your point. He merely nodded before he went past you and the very next second the noise was reduced to mere buzzing. You inhaled sharply to regulate your heartbeat but failed due to the ruckus  that enclosed you. Suddenly jaemin emerged, 

"Why are you so disheveled? Go and change from these workout clothes. Uncle is outside. Didn't you hear the alarm." Only Half of his words entered your head and before you could come to your senses, you were interrupted again.

"Y/n my girl!" Whipping your head, you saw a familiar figure entering the threshold. 

An old man that you surely had seen somewhere. 

His voice was a lot stronger than his aged body which he was dragging along with the help of a walking stick. 

Jaemin nudged you to greet him and you complied as soon as could have in your current state. Only when you got closer, you realised he was the same man you had met in the office celebration. You haven't seen him since then but he looked significantly weaker than before. Even with dark circles present, his face still was still shining with the smile he wore as he staggered inside. 

"How's life treating you my kid" he asked, patting the empty space on the couch. You took the seat and replied in a small voice,

"I'm good. Everything is nice." 

"Why am I smelling Jasmines this late in the evening?" He sniffed the air and galred at doyoung, " Do you take me for a fool? One thing! Cleaning. that is the only thing i ask of you. There are- how many of you are present since the morning. Answer me doyoung." 

The man barked and doyoung muttered a sheepish apology, his head dropping with shame. 

"Each one of you is nonsense. If you'd just clean up your stink once in a while, you'd save your money on the thousands of spray bottles you buy every month. But you thick heads only know how to shoot and punch. Now get me a glass of water before i die of this fake flowery smell"

He shouted like he owned the place and Maybe he did. Your mind and heart were not aligned up to comprehend the simple scenario that took place before you, the dizziness coming and going with intervals.

Then you were called again. 

Looking at your right, your saw jaehyun standing, his face ridden of any colour.

You noticed his new shirt. There was no blood on it. His hands were also cleaned and you were stunned at how quickly your eyes were running on his body to find any trace of what you saw in the basement a few minutes ago.

"y/n, i need to talk to you" 

For the first time, jaehyun's words were directed towards you without any poison in them. 

You still didn't wish to face him so you moved yourself to face the old man.

"Y/n ple-

"Now you don't even greet your own father jung jaehyun."

He spoke with a steadier and louder voice that felt like it was only meant for jaehyun. The contrast in his tone was striking. 

He was jaehyun's father.

"Sorry dad. I have something imp-

"I called you in the morning to inform yuta and taeil and yet i do not see anyone here. Do i need to die for you to respect me!"

You couldn't believe your ears when jaehyun answered in shuddering tone. 

"Yu-yuta is not here." 

He sounded like a child responding to his teacher, scared of some evaluation.

"Then call him."

"I mean he's away on business dad."

"Civil?"

It was like hearing Morse code.

"No."

"You sent him on a target place?"

"No. He's in Nice to collect information."

"Wow. Can you please clap your back for breaking the only sacred rule this family lives by?"

The silence in the extremely large living room was suffocating. This time, except you, everyone else was scared. And it still wasn't of any help.

"How dare you send a family man away on anything remotely dangerous. I thought you all were careful after taeil's incident but no. Nobody cares enough t-

Before he could complete, shaky coughs engulfed his body. Somehow, jaehyun grabbed him the moment he was about to fall from the couch. Doyoung ran for the kitchen while xiaojun, who was always too swift in his movements, came to the living room with a medical box.

You weren't sure what was happening with him or why he was being treated like some high mighty force or why he was so adamant on bringing yuta back but you could only pray that his wish won't be granted.

You weren't cruel but you were sure he'd be able to survive without that piece of shit roaming around.

You couldn't lose the few weeks you had without him.

Taeyong hands clutched yours like his life depended on you.

"Please please please y/n. It's been over a month since he's gone. I never withdraw from a deal. But this is an emergency. Uncle doesn't know you both were forced. He is a soft and weak hearted man. We cannot afford to tell him anything like this and clearly this would be seen as a betrayal to him. You both are nothing like what he's told but he doesn't need to need. He's the only father figure we have. Please just this time. I promise I won't ask anything from you after this. You do not need to live with him. he'd be here until two months are over. Please."

You lifted your brow at his last sentence and liberated your hands from his, feeling his trembling fingers. 

"I don't see the need to lie anymore, taeyong. You can tell him the truth and be over with it. If he has jaehyun as a son, he must be used to hearing blatant lies. This won't be the only one, I'm sure of that." Crossing your arms, you coldly said.

"I know you hate me but please y/n. You know how it is to lose the only family member you have. We have no one besides him. Never had anyone before him. The least we can do is keep him happy until it's too late. Please. Just this time."

Gobbling down each word, you merely nodded at him. If it weren't for his glossy eyes, you'd have threw up on him right after the first pleading but you weren't heartless like him. He was right. You knew how it felt to lose your loved ones, a fate you would never wish upon anyone. Not even the person you despised the most.

"Thank you. I owe you this one kiddo." He hugged you and you pushed him away. 

"Let me call him."

"Yuta!"

"Hmm"

"You need to come back immediately "

Taeyong spoke with urgency.

"Nope. I still have Three weeks and two days left." You heard his non-chalant words through the speaker.

"Yuta it's abou-

"Sorry I'm busy with my french girls. Call you later and please forget to take care of yourself."

And he hung up. 

A smirk formed on your face watching the grim expressions of taeyong.

"Good luck convincing him and while you are going to explain him the difference between the French girls and the French monkeys he has mistaken as women, why don't you explain me what exactly jaehyun does in that other end of the basement. I love some good stories, taeyong. So let's hear how good of a storyteller are you!"

taglist :: @kpop-choco @moon-yuta @kawaiiayasan @btm-taeyong @exfolitae @lanadreamie @cheersskznct @hyuckiesgf @theworld-accordingtocasey  @yiyi4657 @sorrywonwoo @sillywinnergladiator @minejungwoo @leesalts  @mal-nakamoto23 @ro2424 @itlittlefangirl @nctzens-world @bl--ankhaeji @simplybree @ncttboo @jeaneteflo @nuoyii @/bralessmermaid

[wendystales]

Memories - lrh (Chapter Eighteen)

Memories (also on Wattpad)

Chapter Seventeen ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ Chapter Nineteen

I remember the first time I really wanted to see New York. I must have been about 12 years old and was watching a random episode of Friends that was on TV. I saw those flashes of the city between one scene and another, and I thought it was amazing, the great stone jungle.

When I turned 16, my dad gifted me with a trip to New York, not because it was my favorite place in the world, but because it was on sale. There were 10 days where the only time I stopped to rest was bedtime. We went to almost every tourist spot, took thousands of photos and it was definitely one of the best trips I've ever been on.

Now, the city that I once wanted to know and live in, like the characters in Friends, felt like a prison. I wasn't there of my own free will or for a truly irrefutable proposal. I was there out of fear and passion, the most dangerous mixture.

I believe that at some point, a few months from now, I'm going to start loving New York, but right now, I can only feel contempt.

I pass through the arrivals gate, looking at those millions of unfamiliar faces, waiting for someone. I'm looking for a sign with my name or the logo of the Hastings Agency.

I find my name in the hands of a boy a little taller than me. Dark hair and fair skin, he needs sun. In an impeccable suit, but fumbling with his cell phone and notepad.

I approach slowly, able to hear his voice, replaying a million things. He said something about waiting for me to arrive and taking me to the hotel. Something about treating me kindly and not asking questions. I stop in front of him with a sympathetic smile, watching him widen his eyes and quickly turn off his cell phone.

“Miss McGonagall, welcome to New York.” he takes my hand, squeezing it and shaking it quickly. “I'm Edward. I will be responsible for your schedule.” I can't control the smile, noticing him nervousness. In other words, he was my Noah.

“Hi! Yeah, you can call me Marnie, that's fine. I prefer, actually.”

“Oh! Of course.” his cheeks turn pink. “Well, I'll drop you off at the hotel to rest and tomorrow at 8:00 am you should be at Valentino's studio for the rehearsal of the new bag collection. At 2:45 pm you should already be at Chanel's studio, they want to take your measurements and do some color and fabric tests for the fashion show at the end of the month. Then, at 5:00 pm, you will participate in the E! podcast, and I believe that after that you will be free for the rest of the day.” he passes it on to me as we head out of the airport.

“OK!” that's all I have to say.

“Sorry if I'm being nosy, but were you the one who required a lot of work for the next two months? I mean, you have a really busy schedule. If you don't want something, I can try to help.” he flips through the calendar while we wait for a car.

“No! It's OK. I was the one who asked. I was down for a while and I need to get back to work.” I give a slight smile, debating. "Hm, was the doctor I asked for by any chance be marked?"

“Yes! Wednesday at 3pm.” he smiles proudly, making me smile too. Edward seems like a nice guy.

We got into a silver car and went to the hotel. Along the way, Edward answers a few calls, closing in on his tasks. I seize the moment and close myself in my own world. I get my cell phone, turning it on and seeing that tsunami of people looking for me. Missed calls, messages, dm on twitter and instagram, everyone looking for me, but not him.

I lock my cell phone, trying to focus my mind on the new beginning I sought for myself. I admire the city through the car window, trying to find a piece of home there. I feel the phone vibrate in my lap with Kyleen's name, but I just decline the call. In seconds, the screen lights up again and several messages come in, I believe they are hers, but I don't even bother to look. I have no courage.

The car stops in front of the Intercontinental, and just like that, Edward jumps out of the car.

“Your loft, unfortunately, is not ready yet. So you're going to have to stay here for a few days.” he explains, heading towards the reception desk.

I stand behind him, taking in the details of the hotel. Before long, I'm entering a room on the 14th floor, with a beautiful view of the city. The bags are left in the small room before the bedroom.

I smile at my new “Noah” showing that everything is perfect.

“Good! I'll let you rest for tomorrow. Anything, these are my phones.” he gives me a card. "And you can call me at any time. I live near here, I will come in a few minutes.”

“Thank you so much, Edward. You are very kind." Again, your cheeks turn pink.

As he heads for the door, I start rummaging through my bags for pajamas.

“Hm, sorry if I'm not being professional right now, but since I believe we'll be working together in the next few months, I imagine a good relationship is essential, so you can call me Eddie.”

I open an even bigger smile, seeing that Eddie was willing to make a friendship, which is perhaps the thing I need most at the moment.

“Thanks, Eddie!” he smiles and this time he walks away, leaving me alone again.

I go back to looking for a more comfortable outfit, ignoring my cell phone blinking on the table as I muted it. I grab my clothes, heading to a shower and stay there for a long time, letting the water take everything.

When I get out of the shower, I pick up the bedroom phone, dialing my mother's number, I don't want to take the risk of answering any of my cell phone calls.

"Hello?" her lost tone makes me smile weakly.

“Hi Mom!”

“Hi, my love. How are you? Marnie, what's going on? Leah came here to say you left without saying goodbye. I called Luke, but he did not answer me and Noah said something about you being to move to New York, you told me it would be just a month.” I cover the phone, not wanting her to hear my cry, letting the tears fall. "Marnie?"

“I'm sorry, Mom.” I can't control my voice and pretend it's okay.

“Honey, what's going on? You can tell me. Mom will help you.” I realize she wants to cry too, and that hurts me more.

“I needed to do this, needed to get away from him.” the revelation comes out before I can see it.

"He who? Luke? Why? I thought everything was fine.” her desperate tone returns.

“I'm sorry I can't talk.” I close my throat, holding back tears. “I just want to let you know that I arrived well and that everything is fine.”

“Fine? Marnie, just look at your voice, your condition. I saw what you did to the apartment. Honey, things aren't fine.” now she was angry.

“Mom, please just trust me. I know what I'm doing.” Do I? I clear my throat, holding back the emotion. “I just wanted to call to say I got okay. Later we'll talk.” I hang up the phone before she asks anything else.

I head to the bathroom, drying my hair. I notice that yesterday's anger is still in me as I can't face my image in the mirror, refusing to look deep into my eyes.

With dry hair, I go back to my room, thinking about taking a nap, since I haven't slept all night and even less on the flight. I close my eyes, trying to focus my thoughts on something else. I think about that taxi I saw earlier, trying to park. Or people crossing the street without looking at the sign. At the cookie shop I want to see.

I manage to evade Luke's, my mother's, John's, and Noah's voices, giving myself more and more to the sleep that finally came. Far away, I hear someone knocking hard on the door, but I ignore it, as I had the same thoughts yesterday morning. But I wake up when the pounding comes back stronger and Leah's voice enters the room.

“Marnie Elizabeth McGonagall, open this shit now before I drop it and you know I'm capable of it.” I leap out of bed, running to the door.

She can’t be here.

I open the door, revealing Leah with perhaps the worst expression I've ever seen in the world. She was furious, if not more so. As she storms into my room without waiting for an invitation, I quickly look down the hall, seeing a couple look at me startled. I smile awkwardly, closing the door.

“What are you doing here?” I question, still not understanding.

"What are you doing here? And without warning anyone. Fading in the morning. Breaking up with Luke. What the fuck was that?” she screams.

For a second, I see that my amnesia was an issue with my plan. By not remembering my friendship with everyone, I really believed that I just left and everything would be fine. I didn't imagine anyone would cross the country for me, to understand what was going on.

And if Leah did it, it's a matter of hours before someone else does. They weren't going to leave me alone, they weren't going to forget me, and they weren't going to let this story pass. I need to push them away, but I don't know how.

"Go on, Marnie. What the fuck is going on? And if you tell me it's a job offer, I swear I'll fly at you without pity or mercy, and I'll slap the truth out.” she cross her arms.

I consider the last option a lot because I know she can do it. But I won't tell her the truth, that's not an alternative. I want to believe that if I don't back off, she'll see I'm not lying and won't attack me. And even if she tries, I just run away, I'm closer to the door and there's an armchair between us.

"But it is what it is!" I shrug.

“Stop it!” she screams. “Stop lying, Marnie. Everyone. Everyone knows you're lying, so why don't you tell the truth?” she waves her hands through the air.

“Because there's no other truth, Leah. Will I have to draw it for you?” I make the same moves she does.

“Be my guest!” she sits on the couch. I sigh wearily. I haven't slept for hours, I'm angry with myself and the world and now that I thought the situation was resolved and I just had to go on with my life, she comes and messes everything up.

“Why are you here?” I stay upright.

“I do not know! It must be cause you went crazy and disappeared without saying anything. Didn't answer my calls, no one had any answers about what was going on. So I took my father's jet and came to resolve this situation and I don't leave here without an answer at least.”

In the same way I laugh at Noah, I laugh at her, thinking it will fix everything. Leah carries the same expression as her brother, neutral, mocking.

“Why did you break up with Luke?” she asks quietly.

The mention of his name makes me shiver. I notice how my stomach turns and try to ignore it. I wonder if I can subtly extract some information from his state, but I don't want her to think I still care about him.

"Cause I wasn't in the mood anymore." I shrug, walking through space.

“My God, you've actually lied better.” I glare at her. “You know you're in trouble here, I know you better than anyone. I know you are lying and that you are going through some difficult situation. I even have my theories. So you're going to have to work a lot harder to trick me or get me out of here.” she cracks a smile, feeling victorious.

"Oh do you have? What are your theories?” I mock her.

“The first is that you really freaked out with amnesia and you can't handle it. The second is that you can't handle your feelings about Luke, it happened once before. And the third is that someone put some shit in your head and made you believe that everything would be better if you were out of the way.” I feel her gaze burning into me, looking for any reaction.

I let out a laugh, not forced, nervous that she got it right. Leah raises an eyebrow.

“You really traveled on your theories. Sorry, none are right.”

As if by magic, the answer appears to me. The only way I was going to get rid of everyone and go through with the plan without a hitch was to make her hate me. Make everyone hate me, just like I did Luke.

Just considering their hate for me makes my heart ache. But I need to do this. For Luke. For the boys. It's for their success.

“You know, a few months ago you were asked to be in a movie and you didn't take it cause you said you were a terrible actress. Isn't that right?” she gets up again. “Noah told me you said you were doing this for Luke, because you loved him. Marnie, what are you trying to hide?” she comes closer.

I feel dirty because of the attitude I'm going to take. It's low, very low, but I need her to hate me.

"Look who talks about hiding." I give a cynical laugh. Leah looks at me confused. "Don't you have anything to tell too?" she still doesn't understand. “You and Kyleen?”

Hastings freezes. The bitter taste of my act starts to fill my mouth. I’m sorry, Leah. I’m so sorry.

“How do you know?” she takes a step back.

"Who do you think closed the bathroom door on Ash's birthday?" I raise my eyebrows.

“Is not the same thing.”

“It isn’t? Aren't you hiding something from all of us?” I force a smile like hers a few minutes ago.

“No! Cause I'm not pushing everyone away, I'm not telling lies. And if you asked me, I would tell you the truth. Deep down, you know why I didn't say anything. You know my dad hasn't accepted Noah yet, that this is a problem in our family, and you know he wouldn't accept me either. You know that deep down I'm trying to protect both of us.”

“Oh! Do I?” I debauchery more. Right now, I feel horrible when I see your eyes water. I'm so, so sorry.

“I know what you're trying to do and I'm not going to stage it.” she walks past me to the door.

"Didn't you want to talk? I am talking.” Leah turns to me, straining the knife I carried in my chest, letting me see her crying face.

“You're trying to make me hate you.” now I'm the one who freezes. She laughs. “See how I know you? You are very predictable, Marnie. And as much as I know of your intention, I will not allow you to reach your goal. I hope that one day, not too far away, you realize what a big shit you're doing.” she opens the door, going. “Oh, and before I forget, since it's meant to hurt. Congrats, since your little chat with Luke, he's been locked in his room, needing Michael to keep an eye on him.” so Leah slams the door and strikes the final blow.

I bite the inside of my mouth, letting the tears fall. Honestly, I didn't even have the strength to hold back anymore. The rage burning inside me gives way to pain. I imagine Luke locked in his room, lying on the bed, hating me. Hating what we had and what we thought we had.

I walk over to my suitcase, pulling out a package, with the photos I'd taken from the box and the little white box he'd given me. I open it, holding the necklace with his name on it, the one he gave me.

Even knowing what I had to do, I wouldn't get rid of this necklace, I don't have the courage. It was easier to buy an equal one and put it in his hand. What he did to me would be kept with me forever.

““Closed eyes.” he fights.

"I have my eyes closed." I rebate. “Lucas…” I chide him, when I feel his lips on the back of my neck.

“Sorry, I got distracted.” I hold back the urge to laugh. “Closed eyes.”

"If you say it one more time, you'll get hit." I threat.

"How, if you can't see me?" right now, the urge to hit him is so strong that I follow the sound of his voice, trying to kick him. “Hey! No rudeness, otherwise you'll be left without a gift.” the false authoritative tone makes me angrier. “Good girl!”

“Go!” I kicked.

I'm startled by the icy touch against my neck. It's a necklace. Eagerly, I touch the pendant, recognizing the shape. He didn't do it.

“You can open it.” his hands move to my hips, hugging me.

With my eyes open, I run my vision to my neck, finding there a necklace just like his but blue.

“Happy Birthday!” he drops a kiss on my cheek.

I hold the blue quartz, seeing Luke's name engraved on the back. I let a stupid smile spread across my face, glaring at my boyfriend with the same.

"Want to explain why we're wearing practically identical necklaces?"

“It's a little obvious. Couples wear rings and I know what a problem you have with rings.”

“It’s not a problem.” I try to defend myself.

“It's just Alzheimer's. You know, in some people, it starts before they're 70 years old.” I hit him, and he laughs, before he hugs me. "Like I was saying, I know you're not into wearing a ring, so since I already had my necklace, I thought you'd have yours. That way we'll always be close to each other's hearts.” I rest my hands on his shoulders, standing on tiptoes.

"Have I told you I love you today?" I whisper, moving closer.

“Not after 5 pm.” he pouted, looking at the clock on the wall.

I don't know how I managed to kiss him with such a stupid smile on my face.

“Why do I like you, huh?” I question, stealing a little kiss.

“Because I'm cheesy and romantic. And even if you deny it, I know you get attached to it.” he opens a victorious smile.

"Don't ever say 'get attached' again." I beg laughing.

"What is it, bae? That was awesome.” he laughs.

“No!” I scream, laughing.

"What is it, babe girl? Don't you stick to my way of get in?” he keeps teasing me.

I place my lips on yours, determined to shut your mouth and thank you that it works. My mental reminder of “we're late for dinner” evaporates when his hands reach under my shirt. I scratch the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

“We're late for dinner.” he says against my mouth as I start to unbutton his shirt.

“Just say the traffic was like hell.” I suggest kissing his neck.

Luke accepts the idea, picking me up and walking me back to the bedroom."

It's not hard to know that we were late for dinner that day. But I didn't care, I had been given a necklace with his name on it, a necklace that showed how our relationship was getting more and more serious.

I also realize that the two times I got this necklace, at least once I ended up in bed with him. In fact, in both, but only one made it to the end.

“I hate myself.” I say tiredly, going to the minibar to get anything containing alcohol that makes me forget everything.

I call the front desk for two bottles of champagne and the biggest snack they have. I pick up the small whiskey bottles, turning one after the other, as if they were shot. I shake my head, wanting the effect to start faster.

“I hate myself. Leah hates me. Kiki must hate me now too. Just like Noah and everyone else there. Everybody hates me.” I turn the last one over, shaking my head once more. “Luke hates me. Hates me too much.” I comment, hugging the pillow.

I pick up a Polaroid of ours, staring at our happiness marked there. What am I doing?

I throw my head in my hands, lost. I wonder what might happen if I crawl into bed and don't go out for the rest of the month. Probably more people will hate me, but who doesn't hate me now? I mean, just get in line.

Awakened from the thought, when someone knocks on the door. For a second, I wonder who it was, then remember I ordered room service. I walk to the door, feeling the weight of the six small bottles.

My stomach churns and I feel an overwhelming urge to vomit as I land my eyes on the redhead in front of me. Red-haired?

"Bethany?"