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granddaughterogg · 3 months

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You Let Me Complicate You - Part 2

This is a love story about Simon "Ghost" Riley and you, starting with a random hookup and later navigating your increasingly complex feelings and desires towards each other.

PART 1 HERE

PART 3 HERE

~~Reblogs are always Greatly Appreciated!~~

SUMMARY: Ghost and you engage in some more flirting at the goth club. When he decides to get you acquainted with his favourite brand of bourbon, things get increasingly Physical - and unhinged, but you like it.

Chapter 2 - The Taste That Burns

He watched you like a hawk while you smacked your lips together, focusing on the metallic taste and tuning out everything else – the blue light, the music and the noises from the crowd.

Focusing on the liquor, mixed with the taste of his skin.

"So. It's different from Jack Daniels..." you concluded after a while.

"For fuck's sake", he snorted. "I'm not seventeen anymore, y'know. This is the good stuff."

You licked your lips, trying to come up with a more sophisticated review, but to no avail. Perhaps that slug you'd downed earlier was stronger than you thought. Or perhaps it was this stranger's fault. He made your thoughts disorganised and blurry. He made your breath rush.

"You'll have to do it again so that I can form an opinion about this venerable beverage", you announced, boldly looking him in the eye. It takes two to do this dance.

The man sighed slowly, shaking his head.

"Do I have to feed you like a baby bird? 'Cause I will do just that if you make me."

"Knock yourself out," you offered, feeling a pleasant rise of adrenaline in your veins.

Suddenly one of his large hands found its way under your chin, capturing it in a gentle but steady grip. His thumb rested on your jaw. A few centimetres lower and he'd hold you by your throat.

You didn't have time to contemplate this stunning prospect, for he pressed the glass to your lips and tilted it – again, with caution, but you weren't ready for him to actually do it. Golden liquid filled your mouth and flooded your throat, burning it with its smoky sweetness. A bouquet of amber and balsamic scents exploded in your nose. You choked and the booze dribbled down your chin.

"Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy", said this madman, still not letting go. „Look at all the mess you've made.”

His tone was as even as ever if laced with faint amusement. He leaned over your ear, and added in a husky whisper:

"You should've swallowed. We will have to work on that."

Hair all over your body stood on end – the ones that weren't already standing, that is.

"You dick!" you growled, pulling yourself out of his grip and shaking your head like a dog. "You could have drowned me!"

"Don't ask for somethin' you don't want, gorgeous...”

That was a tender word, yet he fixed you with a stare as distant and indifferent as a celestial body. There was no way to bridge that kind of distance. Neither on foot or in a spaceship. Many women probably died from lack of oxygen while trying.

"...because you might as well just get it."

"All right, all right." You started looking around for tissues. "Fetch me a napkin, will you?"

"What for?" He reached out, quick as an attacking snake and slipped his hand around your waist, pulling you so close that you almost slid off your stool, and placing his other hand at your nape. You felt his fingers weave into your hair, still damp from the rain. His grip was as skilled as it was assertive. Impossible to argue with.

You inhaled the air suffused with that citrusy-woody perfume of his, the smell of fireworks and his own masculine musky scent. You liked it. You wanted to dip your nose into it.

"You're gonna kiss me now?" you whispered.

He shook his head. The pale rictus of the Grim Reaper has denied you.

"Not yet."

"Fucking tease," you spat into the black, unfeeling mask.

His eyes widened. You didn't know whether it was anger or excitement at your insolence. Either way, you quickly regretted your outburst, for he brought his face so close that you felt the rough cotton of his balaclava on your cheek.

"You have quite a temper, love. Not gonna lie...this sort of feisty disposition is my favourite."

He whispered that right into your ear, enveloping you in the aroma of exquisite whisky. And there was that deadpan again. It drove you mad as much as the word "love" with its implied tenderness. You knew quite well that Brits call all women that - including those who they don't find fuckable in the slightest. When uttered by this Mancunian, „love” could mean anything or nothing.

His grip around your waist didn't loosen. He drew a circle around the small of your back, shooting electricity up your spine. Then he let go and pulled his mask upwards in a quick motion. You thought he'd get rid of it completely, but all he exposed was his pale chin and the very tip of his nose.

"I was about to ask how you plan on drinking in this thing..." you murmured.

"Just like that."

He noticed you gawking and said in a firm tone:

"Eyes averted, sweetheart."

And since all you did was raise both eyebrows, he added gruffly:

"No peekin'."

"Say, what do you even wear this thing for?" You asked, turning your head away, but very much intending to peek.

He shrugged as if asked the most inane question ever.

"To hide me face."

You glanced intently as he took a generous swig of his bourbon and threw his head back with a satisfied exhale. You've been expecting your typical Brit lip, as narrow as the slit in a mailbox. But his mouth was wide and quite shapely, with a sharp, pronounced Cupid's bow. It looked sensual yet ruthless. You could imagine a man with a mouth like that uttering a truly murderous putdown, unlike those playful jabs which he'd directed at you so far. If he wanted to, he could deal real damage. He could make people crumble, their self-esteem terminated on the spot. Or maybe it was just your inebriated imagination talking.

"What did I tell you about peekin'?", he grunted. Did he really expect you to obey this weird order...request...whatever it was?

"You knew that I will anyway", you said defiantly.

When he smirked, the corners of his mouth didn't go up like they were supposed to. They just stretched in both directions, creating a flat line. Interesting, you thought.

It was not a kind smile.

Before you could react, dodge out of his way, say anything – that bastard held at your face and licked the remnants of liquor right off your chin.

His tongue was searing hot and a little coarse, but not unpleasant.

This unexpected intimacy took your breath away and threw you off balance.

You stilled as if turned into stone, but with a hurricane howling inside your head, thoughts going circular at 200 miles per hour. That wetness on your chin burned like an executioner's mark, teasing and tickling at the same time. Deep within you blossomed a dark flame of excitement, licking your insides. Your starved body has been a stack of dynamite, and he just threw a lighted match.

He let you go and sat straight, looking awfully pleased with himself now that he'd put you in your place. Now that he has messed with you.

He's an animal all right, you thought. A beast that enjoys toying with its prey. An apex predator.

"As I was saying", he drawled, his mouth still curled up in dry amusement, his eyes boring into yours, keen and provocative, „This is the good stuff. I'd hate to see it go to waste.”

You remained silent, trying to reach within yourself, to quench that eager softness, blooming deep within your body. To find the familiar blade of cold, focused anger. You could've pushed his hand away, raise your voice and destroy this fucker. Tranquil fury has been your side weapon for so long. You could wield this power in your sleep.

Except that now it wasn't there.

How much of your inner confusion this kinky showoff even understood? Very much or very little - you would never know. His eyes glimmered in the dark, betraying nothing. He raised his glass.

You didn't have any better ideas, so you raised yours as well.

„Hey. Here's to fateful encounters”, he said.

"You say this to every poor gullible girl you've ever met in this shithole.”

His eyes flashed with amusement.

"That I do, yeah", he admitted without an ounce of shame, taking a sip of the golden liquid and giving out a small, satisfied sigh.

"Does it work?" you asked.

"Without fail. They burst into a fit of happy giggles."

"Tough luck, handsome. I don't do stupid noises", you declared, measuring him with a disapproving glance. You might've as well tried to melt the glacier with a lighter.

"Looking forward to the noises that you make."

To that, you couldn't help but laugh. You rested your head on your palm. That absolute nerve of his was disarming.

The giant guy took another sip from his glass, not breaking eye contact. You realised you don't even know if he's blond or dark-haired or something else entirely. His hair was hidden under that damn mask, and his eyebrows invisible in the murky light.

"Do you like your drink?" he inquired, leaning his long, muscular forearm against the concrete counter. You couldn't resist the temptation to watch the muscles ripple under the black cotton. The guy was covered up to his very neck. I wonder if he has any scars?

You took another slow sip, tasting thoughtfully. Your palate was on fire from the artfully blended notes of caramel, orange, cinnamon and a few more flavours you hadn't previously associated with alcohol. More like with a patisserie.

"It's good!" you exclaimed, pleasantly surprised. "What's it called?"

"Blanton's. It's my favourite. Tastes like Christmas, innit?"

"It does..." you admitted, relishing another sip.

"Not like the real Christmas though. Like the one they show on the telly", he mused.

"So generous of you to share your favourite flavours with a stranger.”

"Yeah, I'm Mr. Selfless, me." The corners of his eyes squinted in a smile. It was kinder than that rictus he had on his face while disregarding your bodily integrity earlier.

You were both quiet for a while, sipping the golden liquid in agreeable silence. Liquor coursed merrily through your veins, whispering that everything would be all right. Music swelled. Deafening bassline and metallic notes enveloped you like tentacles of smoke. You began to jerk your leg to the rhythm.

"Say", said the big guy, staring straight ahead. "Why don't blind guys skydive?"

You seriously pondered over the answer.

"Because their dogs would totally freak out?”

And then he laughed - it was a genuine guffaw, deep and rumbly. It made your skin prickle but in a good way. He threw his head backwards, showing you the curve of his wide neck. It was covered with soft black cotton of the mask, but you still noticed the outline of his Adam's apple.

"Well, fuck me sideways!” he chuckled.

"This could be arranged", you heard coming from your own lips. Was this the expensive (and you could tell that it was stupid expensive) whisky talking? Or just your own shameless yearning for this man? For his steady voice, his knowing touch, his admirable lack of fucks given and his large body, intriguingly shrouded by those drab clothes? A body which you'd love to know in great detail?

Your own upper body was already leaning flirtatiously against the counter, drawing meaningless circles on the concrete with your free hand.

"A woman after my own heart," he murmured, setting down his empty glass.

The bastard knew exactly what was going on with you, That stare of his mellowed, lids lowered in satisfaction. He was clearly a master at this game for two. Hell, he might've invented it.

Your whole being vibrated from desire and anticipation.

He pulled that cursed mask right over his face. Before you had time to realise it - you were looking at the wide, empty grin of the skeleton again. But now the man underneath it was also smiling.

His body language softened, too. It was as if he had shed an invisible armour. He turned towards you, one big hand resting on his thigh, clad in blue denim - the least gothic choice ever. He placed the other one right next to yours on the grey concrete counter.

You watched as he captured your thumb between his own thumb and forefinger, stroking your skin. His digits were rough to the touch. Then again, you've never seen a man with such pale hands. Did this guy ever come out during daylight?

"I'm down for that”, he murmured, sidling up close. So close that he obscured the light, once again enveloping you in his unique blend of scents. You liked how he smelled, even if the most lucid areas of your brain were screaming that you should really pay attention to that firework note. It was important...for some reason.

„I'm down...But there's no need to rush, don't ya think? The night's still young and so are we."

He gave you the usual sweet talk, but those tired lines sounded compelling when uttered in his deep, guttural voice. You found it more and more difficult to keep your head on.

"Sure thing, stud," you said, smiling alluringly. You were giving him the eyes now, the low lidded come-hither look and it wasn't at all calculated. The wave has risen. He knew and you knew how this night would end. You both drifted in that knowledge, as sweet and intoxicating as the whiskey.

"Speaking of young. How old are you exactly?" you asked.

"Half past thirty, give or take."

"Ah." There was a small silence, and then you added, inebriated by his masculine scent and proximity:

"Aren't you gonna ask me anything? My age? My name?"

He reached out and held at your chin. Amazing how gentle such a big guy with paws like shovels could be - if he wanted to.

"Do I need to know?"

"Well," you replied, a bit annoyed by this lack of interest, "I would like to know your name, at least. Or I'll just call you Skullface.”

You heard a muffled snort happening under the mask. His broad shoulders trembled with laughter.

"Skullface works fine for me. Look, love, how 'bout we go sit someplace cosier? Like away from those bloody lights?"

Said lights barely did their job, shrouding you both in a dim yellowish tint - but you got the idea. It would have been hard for you to get handsy on those damn stools. Not to mention the keen eye of the bartender, who passed you every now and then, dispensing various drinks to his customers.

"Yeah, let's", you agreed.

"Geoff, we'll take the bottle”, announced your companion. Once again you noticed this intriguing feat of his. He raised his gravelly voice just a notch, yet it cut through all the noise without effort. This man is used to speaking and to being obeyed, you thought.

And the frowning bartender must've been under his spell, too - for he materialized right before you, putting the requested bottle on the counter. There was a dainty brass figurine of a racehorse mounted on its cork.

"And water, please", you added.

"And water", the masked man repeated with a sigh. "For the lady."

He took both the booze and the flask of precious H20, assigned you the task of carrying both glasses, and the two of you wandered deeper into the dark bowels of the club.

He took point and you had nothing against it. First, you had the immense pleasure of watching him rise from the stool, and now your field of vision was mostly filled with his broad back.

Holy fuck, he was a big one.

Not only tall - although the moment he stood up, you felt like a hobbit - but also broad in every sense of the word. Strapping, Herculean, thicc. His shoulder blades lived so far away from each other, they probably had to send letters. As he moved, his beefy arms swung away from the large torso. His waist was also wide, his ass pronounced and shapely, and his long legs as juicy as they come. It got increasingly more packed as you went, but Skullface would just plough through the crowd, parting it like Moses. Whoever didn't want to be stomped flat - scuttled the hell out of his way. Heads turned, and many mouths opened in awe.

You stepped comfortably in his wake, feeling like a tiny boat towed by an icebreaker. You knew that sooner or later you'd get him out of those jeans, and that thought was an impatient flame, licking at your synapses.

Finally, he reached a secluded corner just against the wall, but with a good view of the whole club and the dancefloor. There was a sofa upholstered in worn plush and a low table (lame - as you immediately find out by placing the glasses on it.) The music blared much louder than at the bar; you could feel the pulsating rhythm under your feet.

The masked one threw himself on the sofa with a grunt, head falling backwards and legs splayed in a perfect manspread. He poured himself another glass of bourbon and patted the space on his right.

"Come 'ere, love."

You complied, yet it somehow wasn't close enough, for he grabbed at your hip, pulling you closer. Not your thighs were pressing into each other, his fingers dug painfully into your flesh and you could hardly breathe.

„Hey. Are you dru-

You weren't given the chance to finish this question, as the masked guy did four things almost at once. He pulled up the mask, emptied his glass, leaned over and kissed you, hard and messy.

You had to admit that he acted fast as lightning. You wouldn't have expected that from someone of such bulk. This thought - like all other thoughts – got banished to the back burner of your mind because your mouth suddenly lit up. Your throat was full of alcohol, burning you like fire. Somehow you swallowed this fiery wave (it sank into your stomach with the grace of a broken lift) and tried to free yourself, seized by understandable panic. You pressed both hands into his impressive pectoral muscles. Your fingers didn't even make a dent. You might've as well push a boulder.

You finally broke contact only because he allowed it.

"Are you drunk?!..." you gasped indignantly, pulling yourself away. Those damn eyes of his. So dark, so wide, unblinking.

"Yeah", he admitted, still not letting you go. "Get in my lap."

You straddled him, trying to prevent your stupidly short dress from riding all the way up and disclosing the colour of your panties. Results were mixed.

Now your bodies had way more contact than before; you put both hands on his wide shoulders, feeling the muscles of his thighs ripple under your own. His body burned you through the fabric. It felt like sitting atop a working oven.

"How many glasses did you have before we started talking?" You whispered, moving closer nonetheless. He was doing the same, tilting his masked head up so he could meet your gaze. Your bodies slowly converged, drawn together by one of the greatest force known in physics, namely: stupid drunk desire.

Skullface shrugged, and it was as if a mountain decided to rearrange itself.

"Don't know. Three? Four, maybe?.."

"You are off your tits", you stated with a resigned giggle. He lowered his head, meeting you halfway, his exposed, parted mouth tracing along your temple. His lips were still wet with liquor. You trembled.

"Gotta give it to you, big boy", you whispered into the soft fabric covering his neck. "It didn't even show."

"Never does." His voice was thicker than before. "Petal?"

Your head darted up at this old-fashioned term of endearment.

"Yeah?..."

"Kiss me."

You stilled, undecided whether you should remain in the arms of this inebriated madman or not.

Suddenly there was such yearning in his eyes. All the posturing, all those fuckboy strategies, practised to perfection - gone. All that remained was hunger, aching and hollow.

This desperation couldn't be about you, some woman he's just met at the bar. You felt as if tipping at some greater, darker mystery. One which you probably shouldn't drag into the limelight.

"Kiss me", he whispered hoarsely, looking at you from under heavy eyelids. "Please."

And kiss him you did.

That was the last time when you had any illusions of control.

His lips felt scorching hot. They were dry and chapped and tasted like alcohol, like tobacco smoke and like something essentially - him. It was a new flavour, as unique as human bodies are, and as heady as that whiskey that he's poured down your throat. Now you were both drunk and crazy.

His musky scent riding on the woodsy-citrusy notes filled your nostrils, while you could feel one of his large hands creep up the small of your back. The fingers of the other one were snaking their way through the hair at your nape. It was an ironclad hold. He locked you in so that you couldn't possibly slip away.

Not like you'd want to.

He licked his way inside your mouth, claiming it with frantic abandon that made something feral twinge deep within you. It felt as if this hulking stranger's taste matched a blueprint buried deep within your DNA. As if every fibre of your being has lightened up in recognition, calling out:

That's right. He's the one we want to fuck.

There was no finesse to what you two were doing; just clashing mouths and tongues entwining, as sloppy as they come. Sharing a moment of blind, uninhibited lust. You could hardly breathe under such onslaught of stimuli, yet you didn't let go, because it set your blood aflame. He didn't either.

At some point you rolled your hips and bit his lip, unable to contain yourself, and felt him buck under you. His hips met yours and you realized with a start how hard he had become inside those jeans.

"Fuck, love. Too much", he chuckled breathlessly, pulling away – not very far, just so that you could both still breathe the same air, panting softly into each other's mouths. Your French twist has come partially undone, sleek tendrils of hair framing your face. He threaded his fingers through one of them. His eyelids were fluttering, those fathomless eyes now big and vulnerable and seeking yours.

"Don't do that. I can't..."

"Can't what, exactly?" You smirked impishly, pressed your whole ass to his swelling length and nipped at his lower lip once more.

He slammed his eyes shut, exhaling furiously. Then he opened them again and shot you what you'd call a deathglare – if his chest wasn't heaving like a ship amidst a storm.

"Keep at it and I'm gonna raw you. Right. On this fuckin'. Couch", he hissed, his voice low, every word clearly enunciated, encased in grit and oh, so delicious. "In the middle of this fuckin' joint."

"They'll throw us both away", you giggled, hiding your hot face in the nook of his throat. "And the weather is shitty."

"Then stop biting me", he said, but didn't push you off his lap.

You stilled for a while after that. Distorted, metallic rhythms boomed all around you. The music felt like crusted blood on your tongue.

You let him hold you in this unbreakable embrace, pressing your ear to his clavicles, still hidden from you by a layer of black cotton. His breathing slowed down and then went back to normal.

"You're pretty excitable for a guy in his mid-thirties", you quipped under your breath, splaying your fingers over the well-worn fabric of his hoodie. The pecs under it were delightfully wide and firm. You traced over a small, perky nipple. He sighed.

"I haven't touched a woman in two months", he said matter-of-factly.

"Huh?" You sat up, looking him straight in the face. "Where have you been, in the fucking desert?"

"Yeah." His eyes regained that closed-off expression from before. Once again you felt as if looking into a boundless cosmic void, and it was chilling.

"I'm sorry", you said, regretting that thoughtless jab. "It's really none of my business."

"It's not", he agreed. His stare didn't soften much, but he still wouldn't push you away.

A moment of silence passed between you. He reached to the rickety table and helped himself to another long swig of whiskey, while his other hand stayed entwined in the – increasingly loose – hair at your nape. His fingers moved absentmindedly, loosening it further. You didn't protest. It felt soothing.

Suddenly the throbbing metallic rhytms which have surrounded you came to a halt. The dancing crowd has stopped as well; there were groans and even cries of protest. The DJ – a smallish, ratty-looking dude – didn't seem to care. He grabbed the mike and announced flatly:

"Ladies and gents, it's 10 P.M. Which means that it's time for some beloved classics. Enjoy the set."

"That sounded more like a fuck you than an invite", you giggled. But then the rhythmic crackle of automatic drums gushed from the speakers, followed by guitars, tuned in the most morose key possible. Your ears twitched at the familiar words of the song. The vocalist sounded like he was grappling with laryngitis.

In the heat of the night

In the heat of the day

When I close my eyes

When I look your way

When I meet the fear that lies inside

When I hear you say

"Oh hell yeah. I love me some good old Sisters of Mercy! Come on, handsome," You asked, getting off his lap and leaning over him, grinning widely. "Dance with me!"

The patrons behind you adjusted to this change in music style. Some have already begun to sway like trees in the cemetery wind. Others were shifting from one leg to another, a little lost but determined not to miss out on the fun.

The masked one, however, did not share their commitment. The skull shook slowly from left to right.

"I don't dance, sweetheart."

"Oh, come oooon," you pleaded, placing both palms on his wide chest, trying to negotiate with those dark, implacable peepers. Were they actually black? Or something else entirely? The dim blue neon light didn't give you any answers.

"What's the worst thing that can happen? That you'll enjoy it?"

Andrew Eldritch was proclaiming melodic, mournful nonsense to the world, guitars were chiming and that damn man sat unmoving like an anchor. You knew there was no point in pulling him off the couch by force. Firstly, it wouldn't do any good. Secondly, your shoulders would pop out of their joints.

"I know what I don't enjoy." That was not a rebuff, more like an excuse.

He stroked your exposed forearm, then squeezed your hand in his strong grip. Those rough fingers of his were warm and pleasant to the touch.

"But you go dance."

"What?.." You weren't sure where this was going. And you sure as hell didn't like it.

"Have fun, love. I'll watch over you."

You stood up, smoothed up your dress (which has ridden obscenely high during your little makeout sesh) and sent him a salacious smile.

"You'll watch me dance?"

He stretched out on the sofa like a lord, spreading his arms on the backrest and balancing a glass of whisky in his fingers. He looked like the embodiment of dark debauchery. You really wanted to climb into his lap again, but you weren't a woman who easily went back on her word.

"I won't even blink," he assured you with this absolute certainty in his low voice. Chills ran down your spine.

"All right." You straightened your back, checked if that hairpin was still holding up (it was) and turned your back on him to say over your shoulder:

"Then watch me."

You sashayed to the dancefloor, swaying your hips extra hard. The goths were awfully accommodating - they let you into the fold.

You found yourself surrounded by a writhing mass of people, moving along with the hard-hitting rhythm. There were elated faces all around and arms flailing in the dark, punctured by rays of dim blue light. It took away all semblance of reality, making all those faces disembodied. You felt as if immersed in a neon aquarium. Encased in your very own vision, a music video for one.

For he kept his word. He was truly watching.

You undulated under the blue reflectors, making sure that your dance moves were giving more "ethereal seductress" than "a teenager on crack" which was your default. But after some time you lost yourself in the music and stopped caring so much about how you look. Your body was doing its thing, gracefully coiling into figures you'd never be able to recreate on purpose, and your mind focused entirely on him.

Even when you closed your eyes, you could feel his stare, as inscrutable as it was unwavering. There was some gravitational pull to this man , as if he'd been highlighted by a black aura. The opposite of a limelight.

After "Dominion" they played a Marilyn Manson song (apparently the term "classics" was being applied very broadly), then "Dragula" by Rob Zombie - and suddenly it got way, way more crowded. A breathless, happy crowd began to push against you from all sides.

You swayed your arms, shook your hips and stomped your feet like nobody's business, trying your best not to thwack anyone in the kisser. Some nondescript dude sauntered close to you and started dancing obnoxiously near. Probably thought that he was being seductive. You ignored his ass, but he stuck to you like dandruff.

The fray got so thick that you lost sight of Skullface. Dancers blocked your view.

The stranger leaned in closer still. His hair was so long that it hit you in the face, and his eyes had this glassy expression which gave you chills. Drunk? Drugged and off his rocker? You didn't want any of it and tried to manoeuvre as close to the edge of the fray as possible. Then this fucker put his hand on your ass. You jumped, trying to shake it off - to no avail.

Hot, sticky words fell from his mouth, but to you, those were just sounds without a meaning. "Dragula" sleekly transitioned into "This Corrosion” and the patrons screeched in uniformed delight. The dancefloor had been packed before, but now you felt as if trying to do dance moves on your morning commute. A mass of sweaty bodies pressed onto you from every angle, and that long-haired creep kept pawing at your rear, face contorted into an empty, maniacal grin. Where the fuck was Skullface when you needed him? You've had just enough of this nonsense.

You stopped dead in the middle of the song, turned around with such momentum that the surprised assailant let go of your ass - and delivered a sweeping kick to his shin.

OK, maybe it was supposed to be sweeping. Truth be told, you didn't have much space for fancy martial arts. But thanks to your trusted combat boots it probably hurt.

The creepo staggered backwards and seized you with a furious look.

"You dirty slut!" he squealed.

You didn't wait to hear what the scorned suitor had to say next. You pushed past the crowd and ran off the dancefloor, staggering and panting heavily.

The sofa against the wall was empty.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Where did loverboy go?

Seriously. Where did he go?

--to be continued--

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lycheedr3ams · 10 months

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Death's Angel

Part 6: Escape

royal!fem!reader x executioner!konig

Summary: It's 1554. You're one of the eight daughters of the Austrian royal family, and your parents do everything they can to ensure their kingdom is prosperous and peaceful. No royal court is complete without their hand-picked executioner, one who stands out against the sea of black, faceless bodies that make up the profession. It just so happens that your family's new executioner, one who has made a name for himself far and wide for his skill with the axe, has caught your eye and ruined you for good.

Warnings: MDNI! smut, mutual pining, forbidden love, death (konig is an executioner duh), mean sisters, mentions of medieval-type violence, overbearing parents, konig is brooding and a perv, some predator/prey dynamics, possessive!konig, maybe dark themes bc reader likes seeing him kill people and bc he's a perv?

IMPORTANT NOTE: the taglist is getting too long for me to manage, so this will be the last post that I will have a taglist for. i appreciate all the support!!! just be sure to check my blog for future updates. if you aren't on the taglist but asked to be here, either i missed you or tumblr won't let me @ you also, we are nearing the end! I think this is gonna have 8 parts. thank you for your support!!!!

.......

series inspired by the art below!

konig's promise of taking you away at any moment you asked him weighed on you for weeks. the more you grew attached to him, the harder it was to hide your relations with him. you couldn't exactly go on proper dates in his cold, dark room in the castle basement. he couldn't take you on picnics, take you on carriage rides, or anything that any normal couple would do. you weren't a normal couple. you were a princess, and he an executioner. you two were never supposed to even speak with one another.

the one thing, the one romantic thing that you could do in his room, was dance with him. konig didn't know how to dance. he only knew the dance of an axe over the chopping block and how to sharpen its edges with stone. he was hesitant at first, but loved how close to you he could be. he was quite clumsy, and he'd frequently step on your toes every now and then. but each time he did it, you smiled.

"it's okay, konig. you'll get the hang of it," you'd say as you smiled up at him sweetly. he would quietly nod and furrow his brow in concentration as he danced with you.

his hand would be so gently laid on your waist, and his large hand on your shoulder grounded you and kept you in the moment. it didn't matter what mean thing your sisters had said to you, or the fact that you couldn't care less about your provincial duties. when you were with konig, when he was touching you, you were there, and that was all you knew.

but his hood always remained on. you asked him, once, if you could see his face, and all he answered with was a quiet "no" and you never broached the subject again.

...

"konig," you said to him after you two had danced and then made love. truly, made love. it was so soft, and he pressed so many kisses on your neck and boobs and back. konig always grew a little soft after you two danced.

"ja, liebe?" he asked as he gently stroked your hair.

"do...do you think we could...leave, soon?" you whispered as you gently balled up your fist.

his hand stopped in your hair for a moment, but he quickly resumed his gentle caresses. he breathed deeply. "it's as i said. say the word, and we go."

"i...i want to go soon, konig. i don't know where. just far from here."

"how soon?" he asked.

"next week," you said before he could even finish his question. this had been on your mind for so long. konig changed you, the night he asked what you would do if you weren't a princess. you'd been fantasizing about having your own cottage with him, being able to garden and tend to your animals everyday while he was a blacksmith, maybe, or a mercenary. the cathedral ceilings and polished dinner plates of your castle no longer appealed to you.

konig kept caressing your hair. "and how far?"

you gulped. "could we...leave the country? just go to a neighboring one. right near the border."

konig thought for a moment. "ja, we can. i know of a village just beyond the mountains. you will like it. i will build a house for you."

you smiled against his bare chest. "i'll build it with you, konig."

he shook his head gently as he squeezed you. "nein. i will build a house for you, by myself."

"if you insist," you said as you pressed a gentle kiss to his chest. "a house for us, konig. us."

konig was silent for a little while. you were growing worried, but he finally replied. "a house for us, meine Engel. i will build a house for us."

"i've already begun to stow away some of my savings," you whispered as if you feared the stone walls had ears. "we will be set for life."

"do not worry about that, Engel," konig said confidently. "i will take care of you."

"i know you will," you said gently. "but you'll be giving up your profession for me. i want to repay you in anyway that i can."

"there is no need for that," he said quietly as he held you closer. "you are worth more to me than all the riches in the world."

your heart fluttered as you closed your eyes and relaxed against him. your cheeks grew warm and you smiled.

"i love you, konig," you whispered as if it were the most normal thing in the world to say. once you processed what you just said, your eyes shot open, but your face stayed glued to his chest so that he couldn't see. you held your breath.

"and I love you, meine schatz," he said as he gently pressed a kiss to your head through his hood. you looked up at him with gleaming eyes, and he lifted his hood up slightly to kiss you.

you made love again that night. the words that had lingered in silence for so long had finally been spoken. he put you in missionary, focused entirely on your face as he filled you so gently yet so fully. his hard, smooth cock dragged slowly along your slick walls, and you moaned into his mouth as he kissed you.

"i will do anything for you, Engel," he rasped into your ear as he filled you. "i will take care of you."

"konig!" you moaned. you looked up at him, cock-drunk and in love. "i'm yours. i'm yours." a few tears escaped your eyes.

you kissed him again, and your fate with him was sealed.

...

a few days had passed since that night. the day you and konig were planning to run away was quickly approaching. you had packed a few things in a spare backpack, including the trinkets he gave you through the course of your relationship. you hid the gold entitled to you interspersed through socks and underwear in your backpack. you looked out the window of your bedroom out over the castle grounds, and felt resolved. you were ready to leave this life behind, and just be. with konig.

you got dressed in your room as normal, and made your way down to the banquet hall for breakfast. but when you reached the banquet hall, you found three of your sisters shouting to your parents. your other sisters sat as still as statues at the dining table. all heads turned towards you as you stepped in.

"what's going on?" you asked nervously.

"you harlot!" one of your sisters exclaimed. your mother and father looked like they had seen a ghost. you looked around, and the room was spinning.

"you've been sleeping with the executioner!" another sister yelled as she held up a black executioner's hood. that was one of konig's gifts to you, and you thought it would be kept it safe in your bedside table.

"you went in my room!?" you yelled.

"guards! get the executioner at once!" your father yelled. time began to move slowly. your sisters were screaming, the guards' metal armor clinked and clacked as they ran down to search for the executioner, your mother hugged you tightly in fear. but all you could think, the one thing that managed to keep you grounded in the ensuing chaos, was konig.

you thrashed out of your mother's embrace and ran faster than you ever had in your life to find him. the guards could run, but not as fast as you in their armor. you ran to the only place he would be at this time in the morning.

you burst through the castle doors and ran, panting, up to konig, who was sharpening his axe in the blacksmith's hut. he looked up at you happily at first, but his expression changed when he saw the tears flowing from your eyes.

"konig! konig! they know! they know!" you yelled as you panted. konig looked over you and saw half a dozen guards running towards him with swords drawn.

you looked up at him, your eyes wet and puffy, your dress wrinkled and heels broken.

"come," he said as he picked you up in one motion. you yelped, but held onto him as he ran towards the stables. the alarm bell was ringing in the castle as all guards now saw the executioner running off carrying a princess towards the only escape. your siblings and parents watched from the great porch with horrified expressions.

"i'm so sorry konig," you cried into his shoulder as he ran.

"shh, shh," he soothed between breaths. "i told you i would take care of you, didn't i?"

you nodded and gently squeezed him. you finally reached the stables, which had been unattended momentarily during the chase, and konig threw you on top of the biggest horse before putting on its bridle and getting on in front of you. there was no time to put on a saddle.

"hold on, Engel!" he yelled before smacking the reins against the horse's neck. you held onto his hard, tree-like torso as he kicked the horse with his heels, and it shot off through the stables. the guards that had made it to the stable doors were swept back as your horse sprinted through.

you looked behind and saw that there were now three mounted guards following you. "konig!"

he spurred the horse on faster, but the main castle grounds gate was already closed. "hold on, this will be bumpy!" konig yelled. he sharply turned the horse around and you flew over the castle grounds as he guided the horse towards the hidden exit behind the grounds, past the gardens. the guards' horses were fast, but no match for the bestial horse konig had chosen.

you buried your face in his back as the wind whipped by you and the ground rolled under your feet like waves. the alarm bells sounded louder over the grounds as panic rose, echoing against the stone walls of the castle, and screaming could be heard from servants out in the fields as you passed.

your horse jumped over the hedge at the edge of the grounds, the guards far behind, and you fled with konig through uncharted wilderness with nothing but the clothes on your backs.

taglist: @kneelingshadowsalome, @plumdreadful, @dumb-dumb-idiot-girl, @elichisstuff, @konig-breedme, @tr4psta, @cutiecusp, @konigsleftkidney, @local-vampire-s1ut, @ihaveaproblematicbrain, @twice360noscope, @madzeesstuff, @crazy-phan-girl13, @babygirl-panda19, @warrior-of-justice, @eluffi, @mooniesthings, @elowynnlane, @zaxlrza, @red-bed-bug, @alexdoesntlikeyou, @helmipss, @11aplacesange11, @rouge-swears, @pasta-m1lk, @ghostinvenus

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snowfll · 5 months

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A Soldier I Will Be II; Treech

pairing - Treech x Mentor!reader summary - you try to convince Treech to escape with you, but he refuses to put you in jeopardy words - 1.47k warning- more fluff! note - this is part 2!! ik its much shorter than part 1 but i wanted to get it out asap for you guys <3 idk if theres gonna be a part 3, but I have other plans for fanfics so stay tuned!! part 1 part 3

The next day dawned with a sense of impending doom that was waiting for the tributes as all tributes and mentors were taken to visit the arena. The atmosphere was filled with tension, as the tributes prepared to scout the floors they would eventually die on. ‘enjoy the show!’ was heard coming from the machines as everyone entered the arena.

You stayed close to Treech, offering silent support, as he walked around taking the surroundings in. Reaching for his hand, you could tell he was scared, his once scowl-filled face was replaced with a frown. You squeezed his hand in an attempt to calm the fear rising in his system.

As you looked around you noticed there weren’t many hiding spots— there was not one. “C’mon, let's look around and find a strategy for once the game starts,” You spoke dragging his hand into the middle of the arena.

The cornucopia wasn’t there yet, but you explained to him how there would be weapons, most likely an axe, and he needed to grab it and run. He barely spoke, only nodding at everything you said or tightening his grip on your hand to show his understanding.

“Hey, lumberjack.” A voice called out to Treech, who turned back to look for you and Lamina as he called for Lamina to follow him to meet the other tribute. “No just you. Just you.” As the girl spoke, he turned back once again, but this time only making eye contact with you. You shook your head at him trying to guide him into staying with Lamina, but he ignored you and walked towards the group of three tributes.

You couldn’t help but notice the sadness on Lamina’s face as he turned away from her. Once she started to tear up, you turned to watch Treech as he talked with his new allies. He could sense your eyes on him, turning his head, he was met with a face of disappointment. Walking over to him, the tributes next to him took notice and started to act as if they were going to attack you if you came any closer.

“You hurt her, they kill you,” he warned them while turning to stand with an arm in front of you in a protective manner. He was angry, he already betrayed Lamina for them, and he wasn’t going to let them hurt you as well. You grabbed his hand in one and laid the other on his shoulder, before whispering in his ear that you would be okay. The effort made to calm him down worked as his puffed shoulders relaxed and he took a step back.

Suddenly, the tranquility of the room shattered as a deafening explosion echoed through the arena. Panic ensued as smoke and pieces of concrete flew through the arena. The ground shook beneath your feet as you fell to the floor. Treech immediately followed you only to cover you from the initial blow of the explosion.

“C’mon, let’s get out of here”, he called out for you, trying to get you to safety where the other mentors and tributes escaped, but you stayed put. “What’s wrong are you hurt?” He knelt next to you checking everywhere on your body for any signs of injury.

“It’s a miracle, Treech, they are all distracted,” he looked at you as if you were crazy, confusion written all over his face. “We can escape and they won’t notice until we are long gone.” You tried to convince him to leave through the exit on the opposite side where the peacekeepers were stationed.

“Miracles don’t last, sweetie," he shook his head, once again trying to drag you to the main entrance. By now, almost everyone had exited the rubble, only Lucy Gray helping Coriolanus, who was stuck under a large piece of debris.

“Exactly, and we won’t if we stay,” you stared at him with a look of desperation. “Run away with me, right now while we can." It wasn’t enough to convince him, sure he wanted to escape—he wanted nothing but to be with you away from the Capital.

“No, sweetie, if we get caught, your whole life is ruined. I can’t-,” he paused, “I won’t let you do that to yourself. You have so much to live for.” He made one final attempt to drag you toward everyone else, and thankfully for him, he was successful.

Once you made it outside, the peacekeepers took you from him, but you escaped their grip and ran back into his arms. His arms made their way around your waist while yours wrapped around his neck. If it weren’t for him you wouldn’t have made it out of the arena, caught up in the fantasy of escaping, you didn’t notice the ceiling falling around you. Though he did, he protected and guided you to safety, an act of selfishness that made you realize how much you owed to him. You knew you had to get him out of the Hunger Games one way or another.

Finally, peacekeepers from both sides ripped you apart from each other and pushed you both into vans. His filled with the other tributes while yours was filled with injured mentors who needed to be driven to the hospital.

As they slammed the doors, a nurse put you in a bed next to Coriolanus, who seemed to be unconscious. Although you the nurse know you were fine, she ignored you as you protested that you didn’t need help. However you did need help, as soon as your head hit the pillow, you met a fate similar to the boy next to you.

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Regaining consciousness, you looked around to find yourself lying in the infirmary. The room was half empty, the only people around were Coriolanus with Tigris by his side and Sejanus by yours. There were a couple of nurses scattered around, but they were too focused on what was playing on the tv. The tributes were being interviewed by Lucky Flickerman himself. If you were anywhere else you would have paid attention, but as you were in the hospital, you didn’t exactly feel up to dealing with the Hunger Games at that moment.

“Next up from District 7, please welcome, Treech!” You heard from the TV, you were definitely interested now. Getting up from your bed, you made your way to stand in front of the nearest TV.

As he walked onto the stage, his eyes scanned the audience, once he didn’t find you he looked up to the camera, praying you were watching him from wherever you were. “So, Treech, I heard a little rumor that you have gotten very close with, Ms. Graham, your mentor.” You tensed up at the mention of your name.

“I- Uh,” Treech paused as he saw how the audience was curious to hear his response. “Yes, she has been there for me this entire time. I am very grateful for her, I just wish we had met each other under different circumstances.”

He was smart, toying with the Capital’s heart to get them to support him. You watched as the number of donations on the screen increased. “I’m going to win this for her, for us— a chance at us.” Everyone in the audience awed, he knew what he was doing, but you couldn’t help but feel like he was just saying it to gain pity votes.

Either way, you felt weak, the way he talked about you brought butterflies into your stomach. If someone told you a week ago that you would be falling for a tribute in the Hunger Games, you would slap them.

“How romantic,” Lucky turned to the audience with an amused look on his face. “Aren’t they just the cutest: The capitals sweetheart and her lumberjack. Last thing, Treech, unfortunately, Ms. Graham isn’t in the audience today, why is that?” Treech looked stunned that he would ask that and he honestly didn’t know how to answer.

“Well, Lucky, I am not sure, I tried my best to shield her while the explosions occurred, but she was whisked away from me after. They refuse to update me on her health status.” The audience gasped, their newfound love for you and Treech together started to show as they chanted ‘update him!’ over and over again.

“What’s that? Oh… Ok!” Lucky pressed his hand to the earpiece, “I just got word that she is alive and well in the hospital and she may or may not be watching right now. Treech, is there anything you want to tell her before you go?”

“Sweetie, if you are watching this, I want you to know that I will be thinking of you the entire time I’m in the arena. Once I win…”

He was now staring directly into the camera, the same we he did the day of the reaping. Except this time, he was looking at you, he couldn’t physically see you, but he knew you were there staring back at him.

“—We can find a place to just be us.”

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tinystepsforward · 2 months

Text

i've still been keeping tabs on what's happening at automattic. a couple of things i've observed:

toni schneider (who is a man btw), the interim ceo, has been quite open with staff in ways that mean they generally seem relieved to have him leading the company for now. i've heard people speak optimistically about him from all parts of the spectrum (by which i mean: staff who are trans tumblr users right through to staff who are "anti-woke" or whatever and were absolutely intolerable to work with as a trans person), which seems like... a good sign? maybe.

this relative transparency includes things like weekly updates from an executive level, as well as openly saying that he did have to directly speak to matt and encourage him to, you know, stop posting.

matt is back to his usual milquetoast blogging, and replied to someone on mastodon about the AI issue saying he'd comment on it when he's back in may, so whatever toni said to him seems to have worked for him keeping out of it for now.

people have no idea what it's gonna look like when matt's back.

the best case scenario is that schneider manages to create a significant enough boost in morale and productivity that "it'd be nice if we just kept him" becomes a sentiment that isn't held just by the rank and file. i don't know how likely that is, but there's a sense of cautious hope and of making the most of this reprieve from matt's increasingly erratic decisions no matter what.

the tumblr staff statement was approved by schneider and hr, so i am also hopeful they won't face repercussions. what they said might seem pretty mild from the outside, or carefully worded, but it's pretty clear to me and to most people who've worked at companies like this that it's a pretty bold one.

i'll quote a friend:

keep reminding the more histrionic elements out there that: 1. there really are trans people, INCLUDING TRANS WOMEN, in the fight here. 2. we don't have nearly the power they seem to think we do. 3. we're fighting anyway. was the statement we wrote enough? fuck no. does it fix everything? fuck no. but we literally called out the CEO, and got the greenlight for it from the interim CEO. i don't know where this will end, but that's not nothing.

i'm not sure automattic deserves the immense honor of having this many of its brave, dedicated trans staff put effort into trying to make it better. but it has them, and it would be wise to do its best to keep them. so many of us — even me, even now — believe in the ideals that drew us to the work automattic does, and hope that it can return to them. we will see!

other things i want to say:

the wellbeing of my friends on staff is my priority. i am interested primarily in their safety, and won't pressure them to give me goss. the ways i've spoken publicly are already pretty scary to people who might worry about retaliation against them just for being known to be my friend.

this is a regular personal blog. i'll keep updating if there's shit to update about, but i also don't work at automattic any more (thank fuck, again), have a life, and am not interested in declaring matt my specific nemesis or otherwise acting purely out of spite.

some of youse really deeply do not understand companies, the internet, generative ai, or pretty much anything else i've said. that's okay — big tech in particular is fucked up on purpose bc it benefits those in power to have it be incomprehensible! but maybe it's not a great position from which to get mad at me specifically or at staff for idk not personally assassinating matt.

got tired of blocking transphobes so i've turned anons off. i'll probably flick them back on eventually.

#tony muses #tumblr meta #<- just for my blog's tag search

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maple-the-awesome · 6 months

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Friend or Foe || Part 2/3

Part 1 || Part 3

Pairings: Time, Wind, Wild x GN Reader

Overview: Link visits an alternate world without its hero and, more importantly, a version of you without your Link. Unfortunately, it seems even the smallest of details can lead to disastrous results. In spirt of Halloween, I've decided to do a little evil prompt because none of the Links have enough emotional damage yet😈

Zelda Masterlist 💙Fandom Masterlist

Time may not remember everything that has occurred over his many, long adventures, but he does remember the day you met. Only children then, you both made an innocent promise to marry once adults. Now, Time may be a lot of things, but he has always been a man of his word. How could he not be when presented the perfect chance to spend the rest of his life with his childhood crush? You’re the one person he can trust with his every secret - the reward at the end of every troubling journey. He lives to see your joy and dies to see your sorrow, even when it isn't exactly 'your' sorrow...

It's difficult business keeping track of eight young boys and men, especially when they're all cursed with the same adventurous spirits that are easily distracted. Of course they’ve managed to disappear here. He can only blame himself for not having questioned their silence sooner, although he’d be lying to say he doesn’t feel disappointed, notably with the older boys, Twilight and Warrior, who are usually more responsible than to simply wander off without a word of explanation. Alas, even they’re nowhere to be seen, his only hint of other life nearby being a giggle that echoes off the vast number of gigantic trees.

"My, my. One more left I see?" Time leaps back, hand already on his sword when he hears the voice, “Oooh, and look at you! So handsome! So fierce! I’m digging the scar - it makes you look so tough. And those muscles, too! You seem like you would really know how to -”

“- Where are you?!” Time demands, getting his answer promptly when a figure swings down from a branch mere feet away from his face.

“Wow! You’re even hotter up closer!”

Time's eyes widen in surprise due to both their sudden entrance and their physical appearance. This mysterious person has wild hair that sticks out in every direction with their body lacking a healthy weight or color, yet Time immediately ignores all of that in favor of focusing upon the mask they wear - one he knows all too well but wishes he didn’t. He thought, for a second, that he may have recognized their voice, too, yet he’s more certain that he must be mistaken in that regard. No way it could be…

“Hey, you were traveling with those other boys, right? So maybe you’ll be nicer by giving me the answers I want! You see, beautiful stranger, I’m looking for a special friend of mine. We made a promise a while back and I intend to fulfill it if I could just find him first. None of the travelers I’ve found in these woods so far are him, so I was beginning to lose hope until I overheard those friends of yours mention his name, but they -”

Time can’t move, his body overcome with a chilled wave that ends with his feet cemented to the ground. It would be reasonable to say he misheard the first time, and he could keep denying it if he wants now, but that wouldn’t change the fact that he does recognize this person’s voice. How could he not when it’s the same that belongs to his own person angel? It’s a disordered version of yours, however this person isn’t you. This can’t be you because last he checked, you were safe back home where you promised to wait for his next return. How could you suddenly be here in this world, kept under the binding influence of Majora’s Mask?

“- Hey, are you broken?!” This person - who still so eerily sounds like you despite Time’s refusal to admit such a thing - knocks a fist against his forehead, barely flinching when he jerks back with a gasp, “Sooo? You gonna help me or just be difficult like your friends, eh? I don’t have all day, miser!”

Perhaps this ‘you’ is simply a figment of his imagination created by the forest to torment him; that must be the answer. He just has to play the game - no matter how much it messes with his head - to find out what happened to the boys. He’s dealt with enough Skull Kids before, this would be a piece of cake.

“I -...This friend of yours, who is he? Someone you’ve lost in the forest?” Time asks carefully, doing his best not to react too much outwardly, after all he’s seen first hand how Majora’s Mask can affect the mind of its wearer, and this ‘you’ before him has already clearly been put through the wringer.

“If I knew where I had lost him, I would’ve found him!” You snap in irritation.

Time swallows, “...Right, that does make sense, but perhaps if you could tell me his name, I could offer you better help in finding him?”

You seem pleased by this answer, swinging yourself upright on the branch where you become illuminated only by the glowing eyes of your mask, “Link.”

“L…Link?” That cold feeling from before returns, making Time suddenly feel sick to his stomach as the dots finally begin to connect in his head. This is no figment of his imagination - no trick of the light or evil illusion. It really is you…not the same version of you he married, but the other he promised to…

In Wind’s world, you're an adored teacher on Windfall Island. You’re kind, caring, and very knowledgeable about Hyrule's history which came in handy whenever he needed pointers during his early adventures. Yes, you would express concern over a child of his age partaking in such dangerous affairs (you thought it was all a joke when he first told you) and you've let it slip before that you aren't the biggest fan of pirates, although beyond your mother-like worry which you’ve adopted towards all your students (even the unofficial ones like Wind), you’ve ultimately supported him every step of the way. You've always been a huge role model for him, so this shift in personality is more than unexpected...

Wind was excited to show his new friends around what he thought to be his own Hyrule and relieved to discover they weren’t alone on this island they’ve found themselves stuck on after wandering through another portal. A pirate ship anchored on shore - the very ship belonging to Zelda’ crew, as Wind foolishly assured the others despite their caution. Now, thanks to his impatience and eagerness, he sits saddened and embarrassed next to the rest of the heroes as they remain tied to the ship’s mast.

It’s confusing. The pirates of this ship are the same as Zelda's crew, yet they claimed to not at all recognize the younger pirate regardless of his attempts to jog their memories. Instead, they had rounded him and the rest of the Chain up the second they approached their dock, taking them prisoner where they currently wait for 'the Captain's reaction'.

The Captain. This made Wind feel relieved again. Zelda. He doesn't know why the other pirates are acting so strangely, but Zelda will be able to clear this whole mess up, in fact here she comes, dressed in her normal pirate attire Wind's accustomed to seeing.

"ZELDA! Goddesses, am I glad to see you! I don't understand what kinda trick the guys are trying to play on me, but this isn’t the time! My friends - they're all heroes of courage like me and we could really use your help to -" The words come so quickly from Wind's mouth that Zelda barely has time to look disgusted.

"How hard did you exactly hit this guy?" She asks while looking to Nudge then back to Wind with a smirk.

"Wha - I'm serious! This is urgent, Zelda -!"

"- Who?" She places her hands on her hips, generally seemingly confused which makes Wind's blood run cold, but not as much as it does when another voice speaks.

"Oi, what's the ruckus out here, eh!? I thought I told ya' lot to keep it down - Oh. What do we have here, umm?" The doors to the Captain's cabin burst open, out walking a figure dressed head-to-toe in a bright red uniform with a large black, white, and magenta feather sticking out from their hat.

"Captain," Zelda immediately backs off from Wind, "These guys were just caught after trying to rush our ship."

"No, that’s not what we -!"

"- Little thieves. 'thought they could just follow us here and steal our treasure!" The pirates hiss together, although you take more time to look over the boy in front of you along with his companions.

"You all look familiar…" Your statement - as disinterested as it sounds - almost gives Wind hope. Almost, "Lock 'em up in the cellar where I won't have to listen to their annoying bitching. Gonzo, set a course for the Forsaken Fortress. I think Ganondorf would like to meet these boys. Tetra, you stick with me."

"YES, CAPTAIN!" An assortment of shouts follow, both from the pirates who follow your every order loyally and the heroes who express their dismay. Wind, however, can only stare in complete disbelief and betrayal as you look back at him once more, your eyes dark from underneath your hat's shadow which is a sharp contrast to the usual warmth that he knows you for.

Wild lives with a lot of heavy regrets weighing him down, perhaps the most unspoken being his missed chance at ever telling you his true feelings. You were an ever-so-dear friend to him before the Calamity - someone who never expected the impossible from him and always offered a shoulder to lean on should he need one. He loved you quite a bit; something he remembered almost as soon as he remembered you. He has often visited your grave, replaying past events in his head while suffocating in his own guilt from not having protected you. He has sometimes begged the Goddess to let him see you again, even if just to apologize, but this isn’t what he had in mind - far from it…

Wild’s version of Hyrule is chaotic and messy; a land that thrives off of quiet hope and the shattered remnants of a once mighty kingdom. Zelda has mentioned the theory before: that like Hyrule, Wild needed to become something else - something different and unruly in nature because if you can’t beat it, then join it.

With that said, he’s accustomed to using a lack of forethought, at least in any way comparable to his past self (which is what he tells himself, anyway). As far as he knows, before the Calamity, he was as straight-laced as they come, always concerning himself with his public image and focused on never letting anyone down. He’s nothing like that now, often running into danger head first with messy hair and a blaze of fire following his trail. You would think after the amount of concussions and scars he’s gained, he would’ve long learned his lesson, but alas, he raced through this dungeon with little worry as he’s done many others because his confidence - or perhaps his dull wit - has once again outweighed any common sense.

Now this is the price he must pay for his own ignorance: a nightmare reanimated before him as it taunts and tortures his inner conscience…and all he can do is accept this horrid punishment in frozen terror as you stalk across the room towards him.

When he raced ahead of the others and turned the key, he expected to be greeted with the typical dungeon boss - an overgrown bokoblin or fiery wizard. He didn’t expect it to be you, crumbled on the ground with gloom affecting your entire body. He didn’t expect for you to react so harshly to his presence, throwing him across the room with a blast of magic when he tried to reach your side, desperate to know how you’re alive and if you’re okay.

You look as angry as you have every right to be, your face curled into a snarl as you come closer, eyes narrowed in an orange glow and a sword in your hand…yet Wild could do nothing but let his knees buckle from underneath himself and dig his nails into his scalp as he asks himself over and over again how this is possible. How are you here? How are you alive? How were you affected and how does he fix you? …He can’t, though. He let you down then and has no idea how to save you now despite having been granted the gift of your presence again - the very thing he’s been begging for.

“I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!” He cries, not sure if it’s for you or himself as he sobs your name with the same heartache he would over your grave, “I’msorry! I’msorry!”

“IT’S AN ILLUSION, WILD! IT’S NOT THEM!” Someone shouts from behind - someone who he’d usually easily recognize as Twilight yet his mind is in too much of a rush to even listen to his concerned friend’s words, let alone care about his identity.

Wild can only think of his final moments with you. The day you ‘casually’ told him about plans to try a new restaurant in Castle Town and how you were looking for someone to join you. Foolishly - ever so foolishly - he asked if your sister wouldn’t go, generally confused that you, someone so kind and loved, would have trouble finding a willing companion for any aspect of your life.

Bashfully, you agreed to ask her, and that was it. You walked off, leaving the poor hero to wonder why you looked so dejected and heartbroken. The next time he’d see you was a mere picture an old woman showed him, curious if you happened to be the one he ran into town desperately searching for. The woman - your niece, as it would turn out - confirmed his worst fears, explaining that while you had survived the initial attack during the Calamity, you like many others soon succumbed to an illness Purah now theorizes to have been a result of close contact with gloom.

Wild can only imagine your final moments, poisoned by gloom and betrayal much like this other version of you is. If only he had done his job properly, you would have never felt such pain. You, like your sister, would have grown old and lived peacefully as you deserved. He, himself, wouldn’t have to forever live with this guilt he bears from your death - guilt that tries convincing him it would’ve been better if Twilight hadn’t pulled him away from the danger, instead allowing you - even if not truly you - to get some sort of revenge for his mistakes.

#lu wind x reader #lu wind #linked universe x reader #linked universe #link x reader #legend of zelda #lu time x reader #lu time #lu wild x reader #lu wild

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cupoftaae · 11 months

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Still Perfect (JK Drabble)

Summary- Your mind is playing evil tricks on you again, and the only one who can bring you back down to earth is your husband, the one you are ashamed to admit everything to.

Warnings- swearing, minor angst, they are in luv its cute, mentions of depression (reader), mentions of medications. 18+

Enjoy <3

"Baby...I'm gonna take Gia outside to test the new swing I put up, do you wanna come?" Jungkook whispered, his hand on your back as you laid in the dark bedroom at 2 in the afternoon.

You sighed, looking up at your husbands face, "I want to but I just...Im so tired"

He nodded sadly, "okay...thats okay you dont have to, I'll take pictures?"

"yes please" you smile weakly

"mama!! mama! lets go outside!" Your 3 year old, Gia, runs into the room and stands beside your bed.

Jungkook was quick to pick her up into his arms, squeezing her, "mama isnt feeling too good right now, shes gotta rest." he whispered

"again?" your daughter pouted, her big eyes looking down at you- and with single glance, your heart was broken into 5 million pieces.

Jungkook frowned, "hey, sometimes adults get tired, its okay, we will go have fun in the backyard and you can see mama later? wave bye bye" he held her small hand up and waved for her as he began to leave the room, mouthing a soft "love you" in your direction before the door shut.

with that, the tears began to flow.

Your depression struggles have always found a way into your family, when you were dating jungkook you spent so much time explaining that sometimes you just cant function, and he was the first boyfriend you had that understood and didnt make you feel like a piece of shit for struggling with something out of your control.

It was nice, but then the fears that he would leave set in.

He always tries his best to make sure you feel loved and appreciated, when he proposed, he took you to Italy for 3 weeks just to be alone with you.

And your wedding was no different either.

He made sure you felt beautiful the way you were, showing you off at any chance he could, and even stepping away from the after party with you for a bit when things got overwhelming.

Many emotions were experienced when you became pregnant after 3 months of marriage. The guilt in believing you werent a good mother, the guilt for not having enough energy to eat most days even though you knew it wasnt just about/for yourself.

The self neglect was the worst part, and if jungkook had not been there to help you through all of the ugly, you dont know what you would have done.

You love him so much and the thought that maybe he doesnt feel that from you is terrifying, the thought that your daughter is only 3 and is already catching onto her mothers odd behavior is alarming.

Gia sees her friends moms play with them, she goes over to her cousins house and plays with their mom, why doesnt her own mom have that energy?

The tears seeped into the silk pillows as you squeezed your eyes shut.

This was how it often was for you: no emotion at all, or sadness. thats it, since you were 13.

No amount of doctor visits or therapy could fix you, and now you were letting it ruin your family.

A bit after Jungkook brought Gia inside, she fell asleep on the couch in the living room.

He smiled and took a photo of her small bundled up body laying on the cushion before making his way upstairs to show you.

"honey, you awake?" he mumbled, sliding open the door and walking in.

You were facing the opposite wall, feeling absolutely numb.

"baby" he smiled, kissing your forehead, "you okay? you wanna see the videos of gia?"

You tried to open your mouth to talk but nothing came out, instead your eyes teared up again and you turned your face further into the pillow to hide.

He frowned, putting his phone away as he climbed under the covers with you, his larger body spooning against yours. "sweetheart, whats going on?" his hand brought you closer

"I dont know" you whispered quietly

"just not doing good again?" he questioned, hand rubbing your side softly to soothe you.

You nod, unable to talk.

"im here for you, did you take your medication?"

"no.."

"okay well lets do that now so we dont forget, okay?" he sat up and pulled open your nightstand drawer, taking the pill you take daily and handing it to you alongside a water bottle.

You gently sat up and leaned against the headboard, taking the pill.

"where is she?" you asked quietly, teary eyes catching to kooks in the dimly lit bedroom.

"she passed out on the couch downstairs, bam is laying with her" he smiled, finding a cozy spot beside you again.

"am I a bad mom?" you question, watching his face contort

"what? why would you ask me that? of course you arent"

"jungkook I havent been able to leave the room for 2 days, this isnt normal....she misses me, she needs her mommy and im failing her" your voice cracked slightly as jungkook immediately brought you into his arms, caging you against him.

"dont talk like that, you are such an amazing woman, y/n. I would have never married you otherwise. You are so fucking strong and you cant let yourself fall into this dark space, you are struggling, yes, but we take it step by step, just like we've always done." he rubs your back as he speaks, "and Gia doesnt feel left out, she would not stop talking about you the entire time we were outside. Dont tell her I told you but she picked a bunch of 'flowers' for you" he giggled, "I didnt have the heart to tell her they were just weeds"

You allow yourself to laugh softly, leaning into your husbands embrace.

"you are doing so well....so incredibly well baby. I know life isnt always fair but we cant blame ourselves, we have to pick up what we have learned and move on as stronger people."

You nod, looking at him as he wipes the tear on your cheek.

"my beautiful girl, I love you so much, you know that?"

You smile sadly, "I love you too"

"can I take you downstairs and we can cuddle on the couch? I'll cook for you, you havent eaten in hours"

"okay" you sniff, allowing jungkook to help you up and keep a blanket wrapped around your body.

"mommy!"

Gia's toothless smile greeted you as you came downstairs, Bam laying on her protectively.

"Hi baby" you waved and walked over, sitting onto the couch and letting her crawl into your lap. "I missed you sweetheart, oh- your overalls are backwards" you giggled softly

Jungkook blushed as he sat on the other side of you, sharing a funny glance with his daughter.

"daddy dress me" she whispered

"I can tell" you smile, squeezing her tightly and rocking back and forth gently.

"my pretty girls" jungkook whispered, more so to himself than directed at you both.

"and bammy" gia added on, hiding her face against your chest.

"and bammy" you insisted, rubbing her back

Jungkook leaned over to wrap you two into his arms, kissing both of your heads.

"did you have fun outside" you asked

Gia giggled, "yeah...but daddy pushed the swing too much, I fell" she babbled

"what?" You look at your husband

"shes okay, shes breathing, shes here" he began, smothering his hands over his little girls face as she laughed loudly.

"mama feeling okay?" she asked once you all calmed down,

"mama is doing okay, my dear. Dont worry about me, I love you so much" you squished her face softly and kissed her nose

"love you more!!" she added, clapping her hands

"Love you most!!" You couldnt help but smile as jungkook leaned his head against the back of the couch, eyes drawn on his wife and daughter only.

"i'll make some lunch" he spoke, standing

"yay!! I help?" Gia hopefully asked

"no no, you girls sit there and look cute" he winked at you before walking off to the kitchen, bam following him in hopes of getting a treat.

You loved your little family, and you wouldnt trade them for anything the world had more to offer.

They were the ones who got your through the toughest part of life, and you were grateful that in this moment you didnt have to fake a smile.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook drabble

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thegoober010 · 2 months

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DATES PART 1

I had this little idea to post head canons of the obey me bros for some reason so... let's do it >:)! So this is gonna be on like date ideas head canons like where they would be taking you!

Gender neutral reader <3!! Btw requests are open!! I would really appreciate some lol.

TW/CW -> none! Just pure fluff :D!!

characters included -> Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Asmodeous

Part 2 will include the other brothers and Part 3 will include the undateables/side-characters (besides Luke obv) <3!

"Oh baby I am a wreck when I'm without you"

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Lucifer

Lucifer I feel like would be the type to take you out on romantic dinners in fancy restaurants when he has the time. Since he is usually so busy with his duties and trying to please Diavolo (even though he usually is and just wants him to take a damn break for once.) he doesn't really take you out on dates (unless he sees the opportunity to, like when they were trying to find that illegal gambling spot in the carnival and he takes you onto the ferris wheel) but when he does trust me they are the most romantic dates ever. He gives you so much attention and takes you to the most fancy and known places for a good dinner. He tells you to not worry about the price since he will be paying for everything so that you don't waste a dime. He enjoys seeing your wide smile as you dig into the most delicious meals. Of course he does not only take you out on dinners, he also enjoys to take you out on small walks with Cerberus. If you ask very nicely you can even walk him, but he makes sure to help guide you so that you don't get pulled by him and lose control of him.

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Mammon

Mammon really enjoys taking you out on dates, nothing too fancy but also nothing too wild. He would take you on the occasional dinner for the first few but later it would be something more simple like taking you out to the park or to go gamble a bit, you usually help keep him in check if he does start gambling a bit too much, which at first annoys him but after you two leave the casino he appreciates it (because if he continued then he would've probably lost all the money he had just won.) You two also do many movie date nights, usually he chooses the movie but every once in a while you choose. (don't expect him to choose any horror movies btw we all know this mf is a HUGE scaredy-cat, he doesn't mind if you choose a horror movie but don't expect him to be quiet this mf will YELL at every little noise and probably get you both in trouble for being so loud)

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Leviathan

Don't expect much from this otaku! The most fancy thing you'll get is a restaurant in an anime convention. He doesn't really like the idea of very fancy dates, he enjoys being more casual, of course he does want to impress you after all he wants to prove himself worthy of your love, since he's rather insecure he wants to prove himself in different ways but bringing you on a super fancy date is not one of them, he thinks you'd probably be more impressed by his epic gaming skills or something. He probably takes you out to many anime conventions and you two usually have lots of fun cosplaying or just going in casual outfits! But usually Levi makes you both cosplay characters you both relate to or are together! Other types of dates I feel like he'd do are gaming dates or anime binging dates where you both just hang out normally with some take-out or something of that sort with you two, you're both cuddling in bed (he's definitely a little spoon no one can tell me otherwise this mf cannot handle physical touch well so he prefers when you're the big spoon instead of him its more comfortable) and you're both gaming or you're both binge watching some new anime or reading manga together! That's a good enough date for him and hopefully you too!

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Asmodeous

Asmodeous's dates include mainly self-care! He loves taking you out on spa dates or to the sauna! He makes sure to pay for all of it and after that he usually takes you out to shop at the mall, both of you getting everything you want and trying out new clothing! When you two don't leave the house though usually the dates you two do are in his room practicing self-care whether that be some new skincare, make-up looks, resting up, and showering/bathing together, if it's self-care related he'll do it with you, it's your own little dates! He's also very open to new date ideas though he's not all just about self-care he loves shopping dates but also movie dates, or well they're more like show dates? Instead of movies you two usually binge-watch fashion shows or bad reality tv! I feel like he really enjoys bad reality tv usually the romance ones/dating shows

#obey me #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo x mc #obey me lucifer x mc #obey me mammon x mc #obey me fluff #obey me date nights #obey me shall we date #otome game #obey me levi x mc

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ultra-raging-ghost · 4 months

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I reached post limit so im gonna write this and save it for midnight to post later 🥰

-10:30 EST

Richas made a reference/mentioned outliving forever and bad started screaming and sobbing for a solid 2 minutes and then started talking about how no no forevers probably fine cucuruchos probably taking care of him, richas asked if thats what bad tells himself to sleep at night, if he just lies to himself and bad said yes! if all else fails, simply lie to yourself and push your true feelings down to make it through this meaningless existence :D and richas said "so if we said the sky is pink at all times a day and just lie to ourselves its ok?" and bad said yes, we already lie to ourselves all the time we just need to think about how much lying we accept :3

richas thinks dappers colorblind

bad said his chats british 😭

time to read books!

-10:40 EST

bad is making fun of us for being sad because of angst(/lh/j) and sang a brief song about us being sad and mentioned "the sun is gone" just to torment us over forever being gone. He also went f5 said something like “if you think it’s sad now… anyway..... spoilers!!" implying it will get even sadder!! (terrified)

oh theres a letter for bbh and forever :((( this might be sad now that forevers. in his place. chats crying

-10:50 EST

Bad is screaming and crying because forever will never be able to read his letter, hes literally head in hands screaming and crying and hes letting the TTS read it out

one of the qsmp purgatory programmers wrote bad a letter saying he was supposed to die more and bad said hes a bug tester at heart and richas is bullying bad because of how many bugs he found and exploited LMAO bad said he'll fudging do it again

-11:00 EST

bad found ANOTHER wall bug to glitch thru, hes insane

-11:10 EST

someone said the word forever and bad is reduced to shambles on the floor, hes crying and whining forevers name in tears and agony and he made the dying "bleh" sound like 4 times

also bad mentioned that as soon as its confirmed to the characters like in-character that max is dead theyre having a funeral for him, like bad as the grim reaper knows but he hasnt told anyone, nobodys aware of him being gone, >>>>also he was ominous and said he needed to shoot max a message oorp and refused to elaborate. what the fuck was that about badboyhalo? <<<<<

-11:30 EST

Bad and richas and pomme wanna make an elevator death trap and then call foolish over to trap/murder him <3 chat is advocating for this idea. chat also wants to see the museum, bad said yes!!! Museum time!

before that, bad is being ominously silent again and is texting off screen. that max comment earlier + this makes me worried. MOVING ON THO BC HES SINGING HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO RICHAS AND POMME GOT HIM A PRESENT FOR HIS BDAY!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY RICHAS!!!!! (in brazil time) The present is Honey cookies! because richas got covered in honey and used as bait while they were away LMAO

Bad was talking about the 1k snow golems prank and was wondering if the cleanup team would be upset or love that, and richas said "lets say im part of that tio" and bad is now saying richas will take 100% accountability for that and will clean all of it up by himself LMAOOOO richas placed down signs saying "NO TIO I NEVER SAID THAT!! I DIDNT" and bad read them out loud as "Yes tio i agree i did say that ill do it!"

oh god bads spamming richas signs everywhere this is gonna fucking lag everything LMAOOOO richas crashed and bad kept placing until he got bored and said "yessssss richas will get in so much trouble hahaha! messing with the server!!!! bad then said "Richas always comes back" in the FNAF voice, didnt need to know you were an even bigger nerd BBH but okay /aff

-11:40 EST

Pomme is dragging bbh around on a lasso and is trapping him somewhere <3333 theyre climbing up the big ben and bad is taking SO MUCH DAMAGE he has his auto eat on

he accidentally said the word "forever" again and started crying again, his chat is in shambles.

MUSEUM TIME!!!!!!

HELP THE FUCKING ADMINS INCLUDED A DRAWING OF BAD LITERALLY STUCK IN A PADDED ROOM BASED ON HIS TIME IN JAIL, RICHAS SAID "natural habitat"

>>>>>>bad's crying again, and being horny because of how "cute" forever looks in the fanart, but mostly crying<<<<<

pomme started bullying bad because he called forever cute LMAO

tinas on!!!!!

-11:50 EST

Bad's crying again over art of him and forever in the pool he made in forevers base, the admins want to hurt him specifically/j

"treasure the wholesome moments chat, for they are just dust in the wind" -BBH 2023

bad took his totems out of his offhand again :)

Bad's crying again over another image of him and forever!!

#liveblogging #qsmp

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heyidkyay · 5 months

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And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Eight

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way?

Authors Note: Hey! Quick note, this part has a LOT going on, it jumps from pov 2 or 3 times, but there's details mentioned that will make more sense later on, I hope that leaves no one confused:) Also there are a few new characters coming in, some will stay, some won't, so keep that in mind! I was gonna end this part like halfway through and then post, but it felt a little unfinished, so here it is hope you enjoy:))) x

Warnings: A short scene revolving around body image, mentions of scars, drugs, sobriety and heavy drinking

Masterlist

Messages now Jamie O (glasses!) In the area, fancy meeting up for coffee?

It had been a good few days since I had last messaged either Jamie or Matty. Though the latter hadn't seemed to have caught onto the fact that I had suddenly distanced myself. Jamie, on the other hand, had and had surprisingly given me some space with it.

Well, up until now that was.

It was a weary sigh that escaped me when I gazed down at my phone, needless chatter of gossiping mums and squealing children having faded far into the background.

I had only just managed to drop Teddy off at nursery, dipping and diving through the crowd to deliver him right to the classroom door, and was already halfway out of the playground now. It was my first day off in weeks- like proper day off. And now, I had Jamie to deal with.

Alright, maybe that was a bit harsh, but saying that, I wasn’t so much of a twat to just ignore the first message he’d sent me in a while. Especially after I'd disregarded all of the man's previous efforts. Still I couldn't quite stop myself from huffing quietly as I shot him back a message, anxiety creeping in.

Messages now Closer to Tufnell Park than the studio at the minute

Jamie’s response came only seconds later.

Messages now Jamie O (glasses!) No worries! Meet you near The Dome?

Sidestepping a few latecomers as I exited the school gate, I chewed on my bottom lip but eventually sent a text to let Jamie know that I'd be there. I only hoped that the man didn't ask too many questions about my sudden disappearance, I wasn’t too sure I could take the heat.

Early morning rush hour was in full swing by the time I’d made my way out onto the highstreet, people bustled past me to get to work without a care, or even an apology, for anyone who got in their way, zooming on ahead like a soldier in a storm. That was one of the things that had taken me some time to get used to, in truth. How different the crowds of London were to the tiny population of my hometown.

I'd just surpassed the underground station when I caught sight of a vaguely familiar head of dishevelled hair. Jamie stood a way ahead, smiling at the passersby with his hands shoved deeply into the lining of his coat's pockets. He wore a pair of dark, fitted trousers and had a smart looking scarf thrown haphazardly over his right shoulder, something to shelter him from the exaggerated cold.

Somehow, his face seemed to brighten upon seeing me approach.

"Glad you could make it!" He said as I approached, and he clapped my upper arm in light greeting. "Thought you would have managed to beat me here though."

I made do with a small smile, before gesturing my head over towards where a quaint cafe sat up a few doors down so that we could begin walking.

"Nah, it's pretty hectic trying to escape the crowds at this time. Did you catch the tube up here then?" I conversed and saw Jamie’s brow dip for the briefest of moments before he hastily shook his head at my question.

"Oh, no. Was just leaving a meeting up in Shoreditch, you were on my route so I thought I'd ask."

I gave a low hum, unsure, but didn't comment on it when I thanked him for holding the door open for me to pass through.

"What are you in the mood for then? It's on me."

"Ah, no it's-"

I didn't even get the chance to decline the offer before Jamie was waving me off with a charming smile and a wave of his arm. "Honestly, mate. It's fine, a cup of coffee won't have me out on my arse. So what do you want?"

Blinking with a somewhat disbelieving shake of my head, I prattled off my usual order in a low murmur and told Jamie that I'd find us a table. Just wanting to be helpful, but also to get a second to think things through.

The cafe wasn't too busy. It held the expected usuals; a handful of early-rising old timers and a couple of suits headed in late. So there were a few free tables up for grabs. I picked the one by the window.

Jamie joined me a few minutes later, wearing his usual grin as he carried over a tray of goodies. I raised an eyebrow at the mountain of sweet pastries procured but the man simply shrugged.

"Looked like you'd had a long morning, figured you to be the chocolate type." He commented as he nudged a large croissant in my direction.

Just looking at the buttery roll made my stomach grumble. Teddy and I had been in a wee bit of a rush this morning to get out of the house after my alarm had failed to wake us, so I'd skipped breakfast and picked Teds up something to eat on the way into school.

Toying with the rim of the coffee's handle, I gave Jamie an appreciative smile. “Cheers.” I breathed out and carefully pulled the plate in a little closer.

After that we both simply sipped at our warm drinks for a short while, watching as the morning commuters passed by the large window. It was a calm affair and far from as awkward as I might've expected the meeting to be. In fact, it was actually the first time Jamie and I had met up since that day at the studio, and even then we hadn't had much of an opportunity to chat.

Still, Jamie’s company felt very similar to that of Adi's- perhaps even Finn's. It allowed me to relax a little.

It was only after I'd broken off the end of my croissant that I spoke up.

"So, is driving across London at nine in the morning just to buy me a drink your idea of a date, or do you do this with all your mates?"

Jamie blinked at me once, twice, before his eyes widened in alarm, which caused me to, quite literally, snort into my tea.

"I'm joking! Don't fret. Just wondering why the sudden change in pace."

Jamie gifted me a sheepish grin in response and took a quick swig of his coffee before he finally replied.

"You went quiet on us." He shrugged as he picked apart a blueberry muffin, separating the berries from the soft sponge, which amused me somewhat. "Gave you a couple days to breathe, but I reckon you've had long enough. You wanna tell me what's up?"

My eyes strayed back to the window as I withheld a sigh, knowing full well that this had been coming.

“You know how it is.” I shrugged, almost petulant, and gripped at my cup a little tighter. "Just got busy. I mean, you have to deal with Matty and the band constantly. Can’t be an easy feat."

I received a laugh in turn but my attempt at a little lighthearted humour didn't derail Jamie.

"I know we haven't known each other that long, and you really do have no reason to trust me, of all people, with your problems. But I am here if you ever need anything. Can't speak for Matty, try as I might, but I wouldn't put it past him to go completely out of his way to do whatever you asked either." He chuckled to himself then, like he knew something I didn’t. "He actually hasn't been able to stop talking about you, you know. Not since we met."

I tapped at the mug and felt my tongue prod the inside of my cheek to keep from snorting at Jamie’s words. I just shook my head.

"Doubt he's even noticed I've stopped replying." I quipped lightly, trying to shrug off the sudden emotion that admission had stirred up.

"Ah, so you have been ignoring us then."

I inhaled sharply and dropped my gaze. I couldn’t outright lie to him.

"Yeah, sorry. Just had a lot going on, you know? This is all new for me, you and Matty, you've just. I don't even know. You just turned up out of the blue and..."

"Sort of invited ourselves into your life?" Jamie filled in with a wry smile.

"No, no! That's- that's not what I meant. Honestly. It's just strange. Different from what I expected." I attempted to backtrack, but ultimately failed.

"No, I get it." Jamie assured, but didn't push the topic any further. "You're stupid, by the way, if you think Matty hasn't noticed. In all the time I've known him, the idiot’s only ever texted me when he's needed something- but the last couple days? I don't think my phone’s stopped going off."

I shovelled another piece of the chocolatey pastry into my mouth to keep myself from replying or reading too much into that.

Jamie released a breathy chuckle and shook his head, as though he could read my reaction, my thoughts. "You've been good for him so far, Mouse. No parties. No drugs. Can't say the same thing about the drink, but he's cut a lot of it out. And I'm chalking that all up to you, ‘cause I can't think of anything else that might've changed in his life to have forced his hand like this."

His words confused me, but then he paused for a moment and purposely caught my eye.

"Whatever's happened, don't let it keep you from opening up. Not just for his sake, but for yours too. Besides, you can never have too many friends, can you?"

I wiped at my mouth before dipping my head in quiet assent. "No. I ‘spose I can do friends."

Jamie all but beamed, looking pretty proud of himself as he reached across the table for a scone. "Now, tell me all the things that I've missed."

***

Matty practically jumped out of his seat when he heard the front door rattle shut.

He'd been on edge since the moment he had woken up, but had decided to try for once. He made breakfast (well, rather a late lunch), tried all that meditating malarky (his therapist would be, oh so, proud), and even ended up doing a loop of the block in a desperate attempt to keep his chaotic mind at bay. But nothing. Nothing. Had been able to keep him from wearing the soles of his feet into the fucking floorboards.

"And where’ve you been?" Matty instigated as soon as Jamie strolled into his sitting room with his usual smile, shaking off the autumn chill he’d invited in with him.

"Around." Was all the twat replied as he draped his heavy overcoat on the back of one of the upholstered armchairs. He paused to eye Matty closely. "Why, what's got your knickers in a twist?"

Matty’s scowl was infamous by this point, but Jamie was one of the fair few to have gotten used to it. A right shame, that. "Nothing! Just- I texted you, wanted an update."

Jamie quirked an amused brow his way and it took all of Matty’s nervous pent up energy not to blow up at him. He could feel his own irritation building though, it tingled in the tips of his fingers and raised goosebumps across his skin.

"That all? You know the team won't give us an answer until they’re certain that it all won't fall through."

Matty gritted his teeth together and tugged a rough hand through his dishevelled hair. "It's bollocks! It's our fucking album, why do they get a say in what happens with it?"

Jamie sighed quietly to himself as he wandered over towards the heavyset globe sat in the far corner. Matty watched on as he slid its top off and procured a pair of tumblers, pouring two fingers of murky whiskey into each of the old fashioned glasses.

"You know why, mate."

They'd had this conversation too many times before. And yet,

Matty clenched his jaw to keep from snapping, lashing out, but his knuckles whitened around the glass when Jamie pressed it into his palm. He almost wanted to laugh.

"Thought you wanted me off the drink?" He remarked coldly but swallowed the spirit down before Jamie could give him an actual answer, or take it away. He only wished that the alcohol burned brighter, these days it barely left a bitter tang on his tongue.

Jamie didn't touch his own as he made his way on over towards the chaise lounge, but his fingertips tapped a smooth rhythm against the crystal. The house didn’t make a sound.

Matty followed, as expected, restlessly flinging his feet up onto the centre table before his agitation once again began to overwhelm him. He huffed when he dropped them back to the floor again, the heavy vibrations grounding him somewhat as he moved to rest his elbows on the knobs of his knees.

"That newest story's doing wonders for you right now though." Jamie told him gently when Matty’s quick eyes met his gaze, his hands still toying with the full glass. "They want to rebuild your image. Figure it'll help with album presales, and they're not really all that wrong, mate. Since you've been out of um-”

“You can say it.”

Jamie rolled his eyes but barrelled on, “Since you've been out of rehab. Well, the public's been enjoying seeing this new side of you. Besides, I thought you liked whatever her name was."

With a scoff, Matty forced his gaze away. "It's complete shit and you know it. PR just wants control. For me to fall in line. And the public couldn't give a single fuck about what I do! All they live for is the gossip, the drama. And that's what I do best, no? Don't worry though, J, I'm sure I'll fuck up sooner or later."

"Don't talk like that." Jamie scolded as he pushed his tumbler onto the table and moved a little closer. He looked to be fighting an internal battle, his fingers twitching on the inseam of his leg to keep himself from reaching out to comfort.

"Oh, fucking come off it, Jamie! You know it's true." Matty spat back, the rage once again building. These past few days had had him fraying. "I bet they’re already sitting there at that table just waiting for the other shoe to drop. And I already know they’ll want to be the first in the know, when I finally do fuck up again. Spout about what a waste of space I am! How they should've sacked me off sooner. That it should've been me and not-"

"Don't."

Jamie’s voice cut through the room like a blaring siren, but Matty had never heard him speak so lowly.

"Don't go there. He wouldn't want you thinking that way."

Matty locked his jaw and narrowed his scrutinising eyes at Jamie. "Don't act like you know what he'd want."

Jamie glanced away for the briefest of seconds and inhaled slowly before his gaze finally returned. Matty could see his own torment reflected in Jamie’s sad eyes. "It hurt me too. You know that."

Matty forced his eyes closed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Unable to deal with the many emotions that threatened to overpower him. He swiped Jamie's drink off of the table and swallowed it down in one, then swiftly stood and strode across the room to make another.

The amber liquid warmed his chest as expected and he felt the moment it hit his empty stomach. He braced himself against the globe's golden stand, leaving his hair to fall helplessly into his face. Thankfully, it shielded his glossy eyes from Jamie’s view.

It was still so hard. Most nights it was all he could ever picture-

No. Not today, he rebuked. Not now. Not again.

It was a never ending nightmare that he just couldn't seem to wake himself up from. And how he fucking wished he could wake up.

Matty went to refill the glass again but faltered. His hand stilled, midair, fingers itching to grab at the ancient old bourbon that sat only inches away, but instead he reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out his phone.

Too many notifications cluttered the screen. But not a single one from the person he wanted to talk to most.

In a fit of dismay, he went to throw the stupid thing at the nearest wall but a hand caught his wrist before he could do any real damage.

Matty’s eyes flickered up to meet Jamie’s- he choked.

"I just-" He tried to force out but the words felt like thick bile in his throat. His lip trembled and Jamie tugged him close. Matty wondered when he'd ever allowed the man to get so close. To breach his high walls.

"I know." Jamie hushed him, allowing a steady hand to come to rest at the back of Matty’s neck. "I know, mate."

Matty wondered if he truly did.

***

Mesmerising.

I let the word play over and over on a loop in my head as my fingertips trailed along the jagged lines of my torso.

Seventeen I'd been- my first time with this boy from college and he had called the scars I was forced to bare mesmerising. As if they were something special, something to be proud of. I'd frozen back then, the word had, so suddenly, hindered my entire world, but he'd gone on exploring without even noticing the way my mind had started to spiral.

The scars had always been a difficult pill to swallow. They weren't mine. I hated how others could so easily claim their own. His scars. My scars. Hers. I didn't want them. They were just there. A myriad of haunted memories to which I'd been burdened with since the age of seven.

All these years later and still I couldn't recall the smooth expanse of skin that had once been there- untarnished, unharmed.

The bronze shadows, created by the setting sun which illuminated my bedroom walls in a burning shade of amber, crawled across the floorboards beneath my feet and caressed my skin. They dipped and curved, exaggerating sharp lines and hallowing shallow slopes.

I'd only meant to have a quick shower, in and out, before Finn inevitably ended up dropping Teddy back home. But I'd left the wardrobe door wide open in my haste to leave early this morning and had yet to shut it, exposing the slim mirror attached to the inside of the wooden door. A slip up.

So now my distorted body stared back at me mercilessly and I couldn't find it in myself to tear my eyes away. The meek girl stood within its four cutting lines just wasn't me. It was simply the reflection of a sheltered kid who'd been forced to grow up far too quickly.

Her skin, hardly what you'd pale but not far off, was flushed and pink all over from the steam of the shower. Her hair, still damp and wet, clung to the majority of her forehead and dripped water droplets down the line of her throat. Her eyes, usually a deep, warm colour, were somewhat sunken, hidden behind heavy lids and long lashes. The dark circles that sat beneath them only emphasised the muted scarlet that rimmed her waterline- a lack of sleep.

I wet my lips. They were dry, bitten from hours of relentless anxiety, but parted enough so that my front teeth could just about be seen. Her face was lined by worry. Fine wrinkles etched themselves around the corners of her eyes and mouth, then again between her furrowed brows.

The scars, faded but somehow still raw, swept up her neck and collarbone, and jumped over her right shoulder. One crept across the cut of her jaw, whilst another sliced through the bridge of her nose to meet another, smaller scar, on her cheek. Her chest, where it had been previously impaled, was now stretched and knitted. Some lines were a few shades darker than her natural complexion, maroon, and oftentimes cardinal. Others were lighter, pale and whitened. Faded.

A gruesome gash down the centre of her abdomen led to a spattering of fine hairs that lined her navel, trailing low beneath the hem of the towel she'd wrapped around her waist earlier. Her hands were now fisted at her sides though, so much so that prominent veins danced up the insides of her forearms, skirting around the few fawn freckles that painted her skin.

Mesmerising.

The sudden blare of a mobile ringing sent a sharp chill up my spine and knocked the air back into me. Shakily I inhaled, averting my eyes from the mirrored prison, then spun round on my heel to answer the call.

There was no greeting, no small talk. It was cutthroat and to the point.

"I need a drink. You coming?"

And I had never answered a question quicker.

It was a hard task, squinting down at my phone in an attempt to concentrate on the text I was trying to send to Finn, but the strobe lights and throng of people around me were making the task rather fucking difficult.

To be honest though, I couldn’t actually remember the last time I'd stepped foot inside a club. Or even spent an entire evening sat in the local pub. But I’d been all but desperate, and so, in the heat of the moment, I had practically jumped at the first offer I’d been given.

I was beginning to second guess that decision now though as I pushed my way through the rowdy crowds, the assorted smell of liquor and sweat already clinging to my clothes. I hadn't really put too much thought into those, too busy trying to escape my own head. Really, I’d just thrown on an old skirt from my uni days, a top that made my tits look great but hid the scar there, and the well-worn leather jacket Finn had gifted me at the end of my first year working on the show.

I had just sent the text off, double checking with the man himself that he was still alright to have Teddy til the following morning, when a raised voice caught my attention.

Frowning, my head snapped up but that soon faded once I caught sight of the tall ginger propped up against the bar not too far away. My lips curled up into a lopsided grin on their own command and I was quick to pocket my phone, already moving towards him.

"Mighty Mouse. You actually made it!" Ronan Kelly bellowed in that familiar Irish lilt of his, welcoming me in with a hearty squeeze to the waist as we embraced. "It's a feckin' miracle!"

I gave him an impish smile and dipped my head slightly to rub at my nose, then made the effort to catch Ronan's icy gaze. "I guess it has been a while."

"A while- Babe, I ain't seen you in months!" Ronan laughed, flashing a row of white teeth and wrinkling his bright blue eyes. I felt some of my worries ease at the sight of the man's familiar face, a warm reminder of older days. "Can't believe you actually agreed to come out with us!"

I shook my head and released an airy chuckle, "You know how it is, Ro- got Teddy to worry about now."

Ronan's face, if possible, lit up even further at the mention of the small toddler. "Ah, grand! How is the wean? At school now, right?"

It was sweet of him to ask and I smiled up at him as I went to answer, but was forced further into Ronan’s space when some prat barged past me to get to the bar. Ronan caught me by the waist with a natural ease he’d always been capable of and narrowed his eyes at the guilty party from over my shoulder.

Not wanting things to escalate, I did my best to quickly wave it off and distract. "Teddy's good!" I heard myself tell him, voice slightly raised to be heard over the pulsing music, tiptoeing almost now in his grasp. "He's with Finn at the moment."

Ronan's gaze reluctantly trailed back to me upon hearing me speak, he reluctantly smiled and nodded but had yet to drop his hands from where they were now stationed at my hips.

"I'm sure Finn is completely lovin' that."

With a light laugh, I rolled my eyes at his sarky reply and moved to press my forearm up against the edge of the bar’s countertop. "They're a proper little duo. Finn has been a saint, what with all his help and that. Don't think I'd be standing here today without him really."

"Well, let's cheers to that then, hey?" Ronan grinned, then raised a hand to gesture over towards the barman.

Within seconds two pints were being placed on the bartop, a dizzying yellow colour filled to the brim with minuscule bubbles that had my mouth watering. It had been a long while since a fresh pint of lager had wet my lips and it helped that Ronan’s presence was a comfort.

"Sláinte!" He announced brashly, already having hoisted his glass into the air between us.

"Cheers!" I laughed, clinking our glasses together before gulping down a too large swig.

"That's what I like to see!" Ronan whooped, almost proudly. He squeezed my right hip in celebration before choosing to steer us both away from the bar and over towards a wall lined with darkened booths. "Come on, Auley and everyone's waiting over here, been excited to see ya!”

I only nodded in reply, pint close to my chest as I followed after him, bobbing between an array of patrons effortlessly now. The earlier anxiety shovelled deep, deep down.

***

Withdrawal was something Matty had never thought too much about in the years before. He'd always had everything right there, on tap. A quick hit, a line just to pick him up. It always felt so easy.

But now, without the copious amount of pills, the parties, he finally realised why the fuck people were never able to stay away for too long. Because sooner or later, they always ended up crawling back.

It wasn't so much the flu-ish like sickness that had him reeling, although he really could've done without the high-fever sweats and the full body tremors. It was more that ever encompassing sorrow. The depression that never seemed to lift- but then again, depressed wasn't even the first word he would use to describe it. It was like a thick plume of murky black that fogged every exit, far beyond the gut wrenching nausea that clawed away at his insides at all hours of the day, or the constant drilling in his head that kept him from sleep.

Being without-

Being without was practically maddening. A spiral of hellish days with no escape, the only choice he had was to carry on or simply turn back. And he'd come too far now to run towards the latter, he’d already made that mistake. And if he had anything to thank his godforsaken mother for, it was the sheer stubbornness they both so clearly shared.

Matty couldn't complain though, he wouldn’t, as much as he wished he often could though, because he was still leaning heavily on the spirits. He knew. As well as the band and Jamie, who'd also been hellbent on 'helping'. In their own way.

Although the idiots hadn't made things much easier for him, the guys hadn't put up much of a fight against his drunk ramblings or the never ending mood swings. They just took it all in stride. Which Matty was mostly grateful for.

The alcohol though, he'd currently taken to using as a crutch. He'd drink a little more and more just to cope with the effects, the longing, to get him through to the next day. But he'd never felt too dependent on it before and didn't feel as though it was a massive problem now, he'd been drinking since before he'd worked out how to pick the lock on his dad’s old liquor cabinet. He’d keep drinking ‘til he was near the grave.

The drinking though, was just a baby habit in comparison to the drugs.

It was also how he'd managed to find himself out on a Thursday night.

He'd actually managed to forgo Hann's mothering this time, sending his mate off home early from the studio before he'd called up an old friend. Itching for that familiarity of older times, shaking with it really, but knowing better.

"Oi, Healy- you still with us?" Crowed a loud voice in his left ear.

Matty startled at it and turned back around to find the one and only Danny Willis hanging over his shoulder, usual open-mouthed grin on full display, a drink in hand.

He blinked up at him once before Matty’s lips turned upwards into a lazy smile, he spun around on his foot to get further in his friend's face. "Thought you'd gone off with that bird?"

"Who, blondie?" Danny questioned, smirking now. "Nah, wouldn't have left you hanging all alone, mate."

Matty snorted.

"Ah, so you do care!" He drained the dregs of his bourbon then grinned at the twat, "Always wondered whether you fancied me, Danny boy! Guess this just proves it, don’t it?"

Danny wound an arm around his shoulders and leant in to press a sloppy, wet kiss to his cheek. Matty pulled away, cackling as he tried to shrug the added weight off.

"Prick." Matty scoffed lightly, stumbling as he rubbed at his face. He grunted at the small group he'd accidentally bulldozed into in his haste and they all scowled in return, but it wasn't long before Danny jumped in to rescue and steer him away.

"Come on. Let's get out of here, hey? The next bar awaits and all that." Danny proclaimed, chucking back the remnants of his own drink. Matty chuckled when the man winced and then wiped the corners of his mouth. "Reckon we might be able to find someone decent for you to take home there!"

Matty merely hummed in reply as they pushed their way through a set of double doors and out into the night, not really listening as he propped himself up against Dan's side, ignoring the whispers that tended to follow wherever he went.

"Ah, look at that, would you!" Danny's voice came again, right by his ear, as he paused on the pavement to cock his chin outwards, forcing Matty to follow his gaze. "It's a full moon!"

Matty rolled his eyes.

***

"Come on, Mouse!" Auley tried for the umpteenth time that night. His larger than life smile, I noted, had always been much gentler than that of his brother's. "You can't stay cooped up in this booth all evenin'! You need to put yourself out there, darlin’- have some fun!"

I shook my head, chuckling up at the giant of a man standing before me. "I swear I'm fine here, Aul. You go and have enough fun for the both of us."

Auley's face scrunched up in distaste as he reluctantly pushed away from the table's edge, the dim lights of the bar illuminating his hair, almost seeming to set it alight as it added a halogen glow to the already coppery red.

Ronan chose that moment to reappear, brushing past his brother to settle back into the booth next to me. He set two more drinks down on the table. "Leave the poor lass alone, won’t you, Aul! You know how she gets."

I rolled my eyes, albeit fondly, and Auley did the same as he slowly backed away, mouth quirked upwards. "Yeah, yeah. Yer like a pair of old women, you two- peas in a pod or somethin'."

"Ah, shove off!" Ronan laughed, a deep rumbling sound that shook his whole body. "Think I can hear the dance floor callin' your name, mate."

"Too right." Auley quipped, flashing another bright grin at his brother before he turned back to face me. "Know that this isn't over just yet. You might've won this battle but you ain't won the war, darlin’. I'll soon get that dance."

I snorted, but was unable to help my grin. "One day, babe."

Auley winked at me and I watched on as he melted into the mob of people before us, leaving Ronan and I alone.

I observed the crowd for a long moment, taking note of all their dizzying smiles. For a Thursday night, the bar was oddly rampacked, but I couldn't find it in myself to complain too much, not when everyone seemed to be having a great time.

There was a large group of us out tonight. Alongside asking me to join, Ronan and Auley had brought along the entirety of their flat as well as a few others, some from uni, others from work, I reckoned. They'd all split up within the first half hour though, but they kept drifting back and forth, I could easily spot Penn and his brightly coloured shirt over by the snooker table in the very far corner, and most of the girls had crowded together out on the dance floor.

"Havin' a good night then?"

I repositioned myself upon hearing Ronan's question, he was closer now in an attempt to be heard over the music, and I sipped at the foamy top of my pint before answering. "Yeah, I am. It's, well it's been a while since I last did anything like this." I chuckled, eyes roaming the room again.

Ronan shifted closer once more, the booth’s leather seat squeaking quietly under his weight as the song on the overhead speakers faded into the next.

"I'm glad. We haven't seen you proper since yer last year at uni."

It was true but that wasn't just down to me, I felt the need to say. But instead gave him a small smile as I just shrugged, thumbing the edge of the table, "Life gets busy with a baby. Plus, it's not as though any of you lot had time to just drop by and see me, with all your classes and what not."

Ronan’s lips pursed at my words and a quiet stretched between us. I watched on as he fiddled with the bottom of his pint glass, before finally he replied. "Could've made time. Finn did. Cassie, too. Just- it felt strange, going back after that summer and you not bein' there."

To be honest, I didn't really know what to say to that.

As much as I had loved my time at university, I hadn't really had much space for it in my life after Teddy had come along. And although I’d never regretted my decision to leave, not after everything I'd gone through to get to where I am today. Because my God, had that been hard. I did sometimes miss the memories I’d made there, the people I’d met and, surprisingly, the workload too. It made me question whether I could have had it all, a degree and a baby. Although, I somehow doubted that that was what Ronan was grasping at here.

But it wouldn’t do well to continue to dwell on the past. I'd already spent a large portion of my life doing exactly that, and I’d known in the long run that I would have to have let go of some things in order to provide a better life for Teddy, better than the one that I’d had. I wanted my son to have every possible opportunity, every choice, in order to better himself. I wanted him to be a kid for as long as life would let him.

And as much as I really did love spending time with Ronan and the old gang, I also knew that come tomorrow morning I had actual commitments and responsibilities to attend to. I didn't have the opportunity anymore to skive and bunk off of lectures so that I could deal with a nasty hangover and sleep in. Teddy was always relying on me to come through. And come through I would. Every time.

But right now! I just needed to let my hair down. Enjoy an evening away, and maybe (hopefully) get rid of some of that tension that had been piling up over the previous weeks.

Thankfully though, I was saved from answering when a flushed Alice came hurrying over, clinking her cocktail on the table so hard it's fruity contents spilled out across the wooden surface. The overexcited girl, who was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet, didn't pay much mind to the mess as she threw herself into our booth and peered over her shoulder to search for something or other.

I shot Ronan a bewildered look, but the ginger merely widened his eyes at me as if to say that he had no clue what was going on either.

"Er, you alright, Al?"

Alice's head snapped back so fast that I honestly fretted a little over the whiplash she must've felt.

"No?! Do I look alright?" Alice stressed, digging her perfectly painted nails into the red cushion that lined the booth's back. "You'll never believe who Penn and I just saw walk in!"

I only hid a smile to myself whilst Ronan decided to humour Alice. "Who d’ya see, Ali-cat?"

Alice's face was nothing like I had ever seen before, her usual pretty smile had been traded in for a kilowatt grin, bunching her rosy cheeks and narrowing her soft brown eyes.

"That singer! You know- the one with the hair and the face! Ah, what's his name? From that band!"

"Matty!" Answered Indra- seemingly a friend of a friend of a friend- who had bounded up to our table in the time Alice had been freaking out, practically hyperventilating. "The. Matty Healy!"

"That's who!" Alice exclaimed and was nodding away excitedly now, whilst I simply sat frozen, drink halfway to my lips.

"Didn't you interview him?" Indra queried suddenly, her eyes as wide as saucers whilst her gaze flitted back and forth between me and the bar at an impossible pace.

Shakily, I set my glass down.

"You did?" Ronan piped up beside me. I swallowed thickly before turning my head towards him, then back towards the two girls, who were anxiously waiting on my reply.

"Uh, yeah." It felt as though I’d forced the words out of my mouth. A ball of cotton having replaced my tongue.

"Oh, Mouse! Introduce us, would you? Please!" Alice all but squealed imploringly.

My alarmed eyes flickered back to Ronan again, then Indra, and then Alice.

My mouth had never felt so dry as I tried my best to ground myself, to get over the sudden, unexpected headfuck that had sent my mind reeling.

"Ah, I don't know, Al. It's, well. I-" I really did struggle to find the right words that could possibly get me out of this entire situation, but before I even knew what was happening, Indra was already reaching for me and pulling me up out of the booth.

Alice jumped up to join her and patted my sleeve eagerly before proceeding to try and drag me away. Ronan, thank the stars, reached out to stop them just in time, tugging on the hem of my jacket and shooting the two girls a sharp look.

"Oi, you two. Behave, will yer? You didn't even give her the chance to answer."

Alice looked up and flashed me a sheepish grin, "Sorry, hun."

Feeling sheepish and rather relieved, really, to be freed from all the clawing hands, I waved her apology off, knowing Ali was only just drunk and excited. "It's fine, just- I think I'm better off heading home now in truth. You know, I've got Teddy to think about."

Both of the girls' disappointment was overwhelmingly obvious, but they didn't push it any further, simply nodded and tried to smile as best as they could.

"No worries, Mouse. You get on home, babe. Sorry again."

"Wait, you're not actually leaving, are you?" Ronan questioned suddenly, causing me to cast a glance over at him. He was frowning now, that much was obvious from the deep set line rapidly forming between his bushy brows. "It's not 'cause of that tosser, is it?"

Immediately, I felt myself shake my head, already knowing that the lie would taste bitter in my mouth.

"Ah, come off it! Stay for another round at least." Ronan goaded me, moving to stand with the girls, his hand still on my elbow though.

"Nah, I'd best head home, Ro. I don't want to be dealing with a hangover as well as a screaming toddler tomorrow morning." I insisted with a lighthearted chuckle, I gifted him an apologetic smile whilst fishing out my phone to call a cab.

It wasn't even late yet, just gone eleven, and there was an unread text from Finn demanding that I have some fun. I gave a heavy sigh.

"Don't be like that, babe. Come on, one more drink and I'll even walk you home." Ronan raised a brow just as he jutted out his jaw and smiled.

It was tempting but...

I laughed lightly and shook my head. "Honestly, Ro-"

But the man wouldn't hear it. "Come on, ladies. Help me out here!" He implored to both of the girls standing either side of him now, the way he towered them was almost funny.

Indra giggled just as Ronan wrapped his strong arms around her and Alice, shaking them a little. Alice simply rolled her eyes at him in amusement, but pulled away slightly to squeeze my hand.

"It's up to you, M. You know we love seeing you, but I can call you a cab if you really want to head off now."

I could only smile at her and silently questioned why we didn't spend more time together outside of the group. I could easily recall Finn saying something or other about a pottery class the two of them had attended the previous weekend and wondered if that would be something I might enjoy.

"I'll be fine, babe. Thank you, though." I told her kindly, before turning to face Ronan. "You enjoy the rest of your night, alright? I'll text you when I've made it back."

"Mouse..." Ronan groaned unhappily, "Just one more drink. For me?"

I shook my head and tugged my jacket further around my body as I stepped away from the trio, patting down my pockets to make sure that I did have everything I needed.

"I'll come out again, soon." I promised them, but tried to aim my words at the frowning redhead as I continued to back away. "You can hold me to it."

Ronan worked his jaw before he nodded curtly, and I sighed to myself before spinning on my heel to hastily make my exit.

Only, it didn't quite happen like that of course, because, of all the people, in all the world, I just had to bump right into none other than Matty.

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sam-blackbird · 3 months

Text

An analyse of Umbrella Academy s4's posters (beware of s3 spoilers, ofc)

Hi! Today, the official Umbrella Academy Instagram account published season 4 posters, and since I'm very excited about this, I'm gonna try to analyse the posters, or what I can tell about them.

It's going to be long so grab a snack if you want / can, put on a cool playlist, and let's dive down! I'm going to do it poster by poster, in the order it was posted, from the oldest post to the newest (so not in numeral order).

We can notice that the characters are cut in two, the Portal way.

Anyway. First of all: Viktor !

Ngl, I had a moment when I saw he had the masculine uniform.

But past my joyful moment, my mind went racing so fast I couldn't keep it down, I had to share my thoughts (even if there may be only one person reading me, but whatever).

First thing first, it's interesting that the first one isn't Luther but Viktor, who is, the main character of the show (or at least, that's how I see it). Or a least the most important one. (if the last scene is Viktor ending his reading of his new book, about his siblings, not only would it be a fucking good epanadiplosis but it would make me cry the hell out of me)

After all, the show open with him, following him. And nothing would happen if it wasn't for him. He's the one trying to get the family stick together, and (unwillingly) starting apocalypse (twice or thrice, shit happens).

Let's focus on the poster now. On the left, we have a clothing reminding us of the Umbrella Academy days, or rather the "how it was before the show", except they are adult, and Viktor is here shown post-transition (and not pre-, as he was in the first two seasons). What does that mean? Fuck if I know. That being said, I think it have its importance (if they wanted to put children instead, they would have, wouldn't they?). However, we can note that he is not wearing neither the boy shorts (nor girl's skirt, for obvious reasons), but some secretly third option, aka a grey pant (is it the sport pant?). He is standing out himself, as a trans man (not wearing a skirt, yet not wearing the boy uniform either, as if he wasn't fully in that category somehow? idk).

Viktor's posture is straight (lol), and I associate it with being calm, obedient (he listen to everything Reginald says (ex: take these pills), and since Reginald is perceived as a father figure, it makes sense that Viktor wants to obey him, maybe hoping he (Viktor) will be loved and recognized as valuable). And also with being like a puppet. Or a muppet. The point is: He's not free of his movement, he doesn't have free will.

His face doesn't look happy. Nor sad. Just... neutral. He's just... there.

On the right, we can't see his face, yet his posture seems way more relaxed! He's wearing casual clothes, more modern ones, adapted to the world without powers they're now seems to live at the end of season 3.

His looks reminds me of the one of Tyler Ronan from Tell Me Why, a game by the studio Don't Nod (I fucking love that game). Both characters are trans man.

(This are pictures of Tyler. I had to restrain myself because we're not here from ma boi Tyler) (I have way too many pictures of that icon)

Anyway. Casual clothes. Blue, like the uniform. I won't analyse that, this post is already long enough.

Tbh, I haven't saw again the last episode of season 3, so I don't remember if it was the clothes they were wearing or new ones.

Also, Viktor is holding an umbrella in his right hand, probably a reference to the Umbrella days. Like, it's a part of him, he can't leave it behind, he physically have it with him (even if he doesn't have the power).

And the Umbrella is closed, unlike the ones from the previous seasons's posters.

Like, season 2's were opened (and full), and season 3's were opened and damaged (and they were hiding the protagonists' faces, showing implicitly the influence of the academy on them).

Next one, Luther !

We almost can see his face on the right!

But anyway, let's start by the left. Luther is walking, straight, in what could be either a military walk or a relaxed one (? don't quote me on this please, I can't explain). His posture screams "confidence" and "I'm number one, I'm a leader, follow me!". Or something like that, I'm no posture reader, just someone who watched way too much police and detective shows. He's wearing the Umbrella uniform (and it's so fucking weird to see it on a grown ass man!). His hair are cut short.

On the right, he's wearing a more casual look. There's something going one with his arm muscles, but I can't be bother to search what. His hair are longer than on the left. He is wearing gloves and an umbrella, and walking shoes. His umbrella is cutting his name (does it have some symbolism? Maybe.)

He's still wearing blue (like Viktor), even if it's a different kind of blue (and it kinda fit him).

Nothing more to add. (yes, I have my favorites, and despite liking Luther, I won't kill my eyesight anymore than necessary for details).

Next! Diego!

Let me preface this by saying that it's so fucking weird to see him in that uniform. On the left, he's walking like a good little soldier, following the leader.

On the right, he's the embodiment of a relax guy who can (and will) definitely yeet you out of the picture if needed. He's not wearing anything casual. It's more like a killer / soldier clothes, with his precious knifes.

DOES HE HAVE A MUSTACHE????

He's holding the Umbrella on the shoulder, as if he can't be bothered with it (and/ or he's gonna use it as a weapon).

Next! Not number 3, but the one who's linked to Diego! Lila!

Love that she's officially "Lila Hargreeves".

The left outfit is like the one she had in season 2 when she was with the Handler and stuff about her past was revealed (so interesting and meaningful choice of outfit). Her heels are thin, as if she wasn't stable (with her life situation and all).

Yet, on the right, her heels are thicker, more stable to move (she's more free to go).

Her clothes are modern and the flowers fit her really well, I might say. Her hair are put up, like the active badass woman she is. They're brown again, and not white/ blond anymore, it's more natural (I can't really argue, my hair are currently pink).

She overall looks like a business woman, with a casual chic.

She too, is holding an umbrella, which make her fully part of the family. She hold it casually.

Next, another girl: Allison.

Ngl, I'm no big fan of hers, so this will be short.

On the left, she's confidently wearing her UA (Umbrella Academy) uniform. Her hand move don't really feel natural (saying this as someone who sometimes draws human beings). Her hair are like the one from season 1.

On the right, she looks like a business woman and a mom. Her posture looks aslo determined, while relaxed. She have business to do, and no one will stop/ prevent her from doing so!

Girl power and all that.

(I'm trying, I really can't stand how her character was wrote during season 3)

Neeeeext! Let's go with one of my fav, Klaaaaaaus!

I have to say, it is criminal that a) his hair are short on th right side (loved his long hair) and b) where's the skirt?! He slayed in it! Anyway.

On the left, his walking looks very mechanical, as if he was a machine, a robot (lol) (I won't do any joke about Grace). Yet, his posture his not natural (no one walks naturally torso in one way and legs in another, if that makes some sense) (that reminds me kinda of the extravagant way drag queens walk on the runaway, for shows, but I may be extrapolating a little).

His eyes are closed. Why are his eyes closed? I'm scared. His face is still like the one of a dead person. Resigned. Accepting his fate. But after all, Klaus had always been closed to death, more or less metaphorically speaking, as he can see ghosts (= dead people, or what remains of them).

His hair are all over the place, reminding the crazy days he had to get fucking blasted to avoid said ghosts.

Right side is colorful. He's beauty, he's grace, WHERE ARE HIS HAIR?! No but more seriously, cutting one's own hair symbolise change in many culture, and more specifically letting go of the past, embracing new beginnings, and/ or undergoing spiritual or personal transformations. I have no idea how to interpret that.

He seems to float, to ascend (plz don't kill him). He is bare foot (bare feet? idk) (fun fact: in the comics, he could only use his power when sober and with bare feet) (I won't go down the rabbit hole of barefoot symbolism and its link with death, I'm not mentally well enough to do that).

He his wearing a yellow coat with flowers (flowers, like Lila!). Yellow is associated with joy, fest, sun (and Klaus is a comic relief, a feel good sunshine character), and flower, life. (again, plz don't kill him)

What reinforce that idea of tragedy is that the umbrella he's wearing is the only one who isn't black: it's the umbrella he was holding during Reggie's funeral in s1. Plus, he's holding it with three fingers out. What's the meaning of three? Idk. Maybe it’s for Allison? Maybe it has a link with God (the Christian one)? Yk, Holy Trinity and all that. After all, doesn't Klaus met God (the little girl in the afterlife) regularly?

Does that look good or bad for Klaus? No idea.

Speaking about looking good, Ben is back, alive. I won' t go far enough to say "well", but he's alive.

On the left, he's standing straight, walking in a unnatural posture. Following only.

On the right, he bent (idk why tho). His clothes are casual (and looking alike the one Viktor had been wearing during s3). His umbrella also cut his name (like Luther's). He's a Vans' boy!

(please, no mustache for him)

We can't see if he's wearing glasses or not.

Last of the Hargreeves kids (if you count Lila as one, and if not, last one of the power-gifted Hargreeves): Five.

On the left, his posture is haughty. His hands are in his pants pockets. He know what he wants, he is very sure of himself, maybe because he thinks he is better than everyone (he can think that, given what happened) (some might even say he have a bratty attitude, but I'll answer, well have you seen him during season 1???)

(my personal theory is that he is bend forward to be smaller on the left than on the right)

On the right, he left the UA uniform for a more formal suit (some call it 'the grandpa / old man suit'). His hair are longer.

He's walking down like he had no shit to give anymore (he doesn't) and he's ready to throw hands (he totally his).

HOLY (S)HIT HE'S HOLDING THE UMBRELLA IN HIS RIGHT HAND! Why? Why is he te only one wearing the umbrella on the other hand? Is it to accentuate his difference with his siblings (+ Lila)? Is it to show how differently he see his time at the UA an how differenlty he uses his powers? I mean, given he didn't spend as much time in the UA as the rest of them, ofc his vision and perception of the UA is different. Even his vision of time is different.

And now.

BEWARE! THE REGINALD JUMPSCARE! (or is it scare jump? Anyway, I've been working on this post for more than an hour and a hlaf, plz be indulgent, it's late and the day had been long)

On the left, we see the whole umbrella for the firs time on these posters.

Reggie is wearing blue (reminding of the UA uniform). He is young looking, and seems well assorted (who tf have two jacket pockets on the same side tho?)

Edit: his suit is actually more lilac/ purple, which is a color hard to dye (so it costed a lot and was reserved for royalty / rich ppl) (before industrialization and the use of chemical products for clothes dye; and we know Reggie arrived/ was on Earth on 19th c., so during the industrialization)

On the right, he's old and wearing a brown suit. Brown can symbolize the Earth. Earth can provide and ppl are depend on it to eat and therefore survive. In a way, he was a Earth for his children, as they were dependent on him (does that makes him a good father? Absolutely not!). (that thought, of Reggie being a Earth, is funny given he is an alien / an extraterrestrial)

And if you put them all in order, you get :

(notice how Klaus's picture / posture melt greatly in Five's?)

And that's it! Damn, that was long. Don't hesitate to let me know what you think about all of that in the comment!

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xxkookiexx · 11 months

Text

Currently writing full fanfiction on Atsv with a male reader X Miguel, so of course I gotta post it on tumblr ;) if you wanna check out more chapters I post more on wattpad - @Captain_Lurling

A Glitch in the System

𝙈𝙞𝙜𝙪𝙚𝙡 𝙊'𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙖 𝙓 𝙈𝙖𝙡𝙚!𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝙎𝙪𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙨𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙨, 𝙨𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙨𝙩, 𝙈𝙞𝙜𝙪𝙚𝙡 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖 𝙗𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙮, 𝙈/𝙣 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩💕

𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃 ‼️

If you haven't watched Across the Spider Verse go watch it before reading, if so carry on.

..••°°°°••..

"No, no, no-M/n! M/n! M/n? Just breath, you're alright. We're gonna fix this and you'll be fine. Okay? Everything will be fine."

"Miguel...You can't."

"No, no, no, no-NO! M/n, don't say that! Jess, we have to do something!"

"𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘰."

The Spider-society created by Miguel O'Hara is an elite group that assists in the capture of strayed anomaly's and returning them to their rightful dimension. M/n L/n has been with them since the beginning and has helped the group as much as he could, even with his questionable relationship wth their leader, that doesn't stop him from protecting others in need.

After Miles Morales finds himself at Headquarters, he's stuck with the choice of doing what's right and what he believes in but with the small support he's shown, he doesn't know who to trust.

M/n wants to help as much as he can, but whether or not he survives long enough to help the boy is the real question...

°°••....••°°

part.1 - part.2 - part.3 - part.4 - part.5 - part.6 - part.7 - part.8 - part.9

Whenever M/n would try to find Miguel, he was always in the same spot in front of the same screens watching the same videos of him and his daughter. The beautiful girl Miguel had lost from his stupidity in replacing his killed version of that dimension and thinking nothing would go wrong. Well something did go wrong, the dimension started unraveling and everyone was wiped out including his daughter.

To see the man close himself off and continue to dwell on the loss of his daughter, M/n felt lost himself. He knew the only way he could be there with him was to give him the space he needed, but there was only so much time before something would happen to him too.

Somewhere in HQ...

A small tune could be heard outside one of the many rooms that aligned with each other and a light illuminating from under the door into the darkness. It was late and mostly everyone was either back in their dimension or asleep in their respected dorm. Inside was the basic layout of a university dorm room: a bed in the corner, a desk against the wall and a lamp shining onto the spread papers with a pen that tapped against the wood.

The person hummed as they tinkered with a small gadget that sparked every few seconds and he bopped his head to the music, the dark shades covering his eyes. He reached to grab a small tool to adjust something and hummed in satisfaction.

A watch was securely tied around his left hand, its screen showing multiple buttons and stats of whatever it was analysing. Everyone who came to this dimension had one, and was a part of the 'elite' spider squad that Miguel O'Hara had formed and the watches helped them travel on command. It was to also stop them from glitching out.

If you were just a visitor like Peter B. Parker's daughter Mayday, then you'd get a blue bracelet called the 'day pass' which wasn't the same as the watch but helped you stay solid in this world.

After a few more touches, the man lifted off the glasses and grinned, bringing the device up to his face to closely inspect it. It was an addition to his suit, something that would help in the future in case he ran out of web.

He brought it to his chest and it automatically started connecting to his suit before thinning out and light moving towards his back and suddenly disappearing. Letting out a satisfied huff, he picked up a few tools before his watch beeped and up popped Lila.

"Backup needed, I'll send you Miguel's location." Before she disappeared. He paused, then groaned and stood up to grab his mask and bring his watch up to input the dimension.

The portal opened and M/n stared at it and with a roll of his eyes shoved his mask on and jumped up, shooting web into the portal and pulling himself in.

Around him was all space and different dimensions but M/n shot through the red tube that led him to the required dimension, the one that most likely had a villain who was in the wrong world. He flew out of the portal and had to quickly propel his body over the flying vulture that screamed as it rammed into the wall behind him.

"Oh great, another one?" It yelled and M/n shot web upwards to land on the railing and look over head to see Jess Drew on her bike and riding towards the villain and a spider person he hadn't seen before in a white suit with a hood.

"Glad you could finally make it," A familiar voice and M/n turned to see Miguel with his mask on, running towards him.

"I only just got the call for backup, gimme some air, Miguel." M/n shrugged as his eyes observed the room, it was a museum from all the hanging artefacts but that vulture certainly wasn't a registered item.

Miguel sighed and jumped on the railing to help the others. "Just give us a hand will you? That thing can fly and is aggressive for us to handle. It's got bombs that are blowing up the area." He informed and jumped off to lay a hit on the anomaly.

M/n nodded and flicked his wrists to crank up his web shooters before jumping off. "Got it." He flipped a bit and landed on Drews bike, soaring towards vulture who snarled at the slim spider person and M/n shot web onto his arm that was about to strike and pulled himself around its body before projecting himself forward to land a harsh kick on its face.

The fight lasted a few minutes at most when the vulture threw up bombs in the sky and fly up with Miguel on its back. Miguel pulled back his mask was about to bite the vulture in the sky but a helicopter flashed its lights forcing him to put the mask back on and tell them to get out of there. the villain Took its chance and twisted its arms, sending bombs over towards the helicopter.

Miguel shouted 'No!' as it exploded and began to descend into the museum.

"Shit, how do we stop that?" M/n glanced at Miguel and Jess, his eyes wide then looking down at the civilians yelling in a panic. The other spider person in the white suit stopped before they started to create a web that could catch the helicopter and if the scene was in slow motion, that's how M/n was deceiving it.

The trio caught on to the person's plan and they each shot webs around the spinning helicopter and pulled with all their strength to slow the thing down, M/n could hear the people's cries and they all ducked to protect themselves.

M/n grunted and twisted the web around his wrists for more effectiveness as the helicopter came to a harsh stop right above the web and above the people. The building started to collapse and M/n knew he'd had to help the people on the floor so carefully tying the web to a small pipe sticking out, he jumped down to assist moving everyone while Miguel and Jess dealt with the old vulture.

Soon enough the top began caving in and M/n had to fly himself out of harm's way and towards the others right as a bunch of the building slammed onto the ground, dust flying up instantly and a piece of stone hitting M/n in the face.

He yelped and grabbed his broken face with a groan as the air became quiet and still. Miguel and Jess saw the spider girl standing above them with a proud stance.

"That's what I was gonna kill." Miguel said to himself in annoyance and the girl collapsed backwards.

M/n panted and reached up to pull his mask off to reveal the purple bruise that was forming on his cheek. He touched it with a wince catching Miguel's attention quickly who came over to gently lift his hand to M/n's cheek.

"You alright?" Miguel asked and M/n chuckled and nodded, "It's my fault I didn't move in time."

Miguel rolled his eyes under the mask even if M/n couldn't see. It happened often that M/n was careless and got himself hit but he would end and say getting hit was the goal.

It definitely wasn't.

Moving around the sulking man, Miguel walked around where he heard commotion and saw the spider woman with her mask off and a cop in front of her; her dad. He had his gun hauled up and as threatening the girl until web shot out and snatched the gun, Miguel jumping over with the vulture in his arms as he sent over a trap that locked him in a red circle that they used for capturing anomaly's.

The captain shouted and banged his hands on the shield, the girl yelling for her dad but Jess grabbed her before she could.

"Hey hey, just breath." She reassured her. "We got you." Before looking at Miguel who put down the vulture and sighed.

"Lyla. Scan this mess." M/n came up beside Miguel while Lyla scanned the area and told them there wasn't any more anomaly's. The man tapped on his watch and up opened the portal that would take them all back to Headquarters.

Miguel hauled up vulture and threw him in the portal while Jess tried to convince him to take the girl with them. "We can't just leave her here. She's doing this all on her own." The pair stayed silence and M/n clenched his fists at seeing her gaze at her father.

"I don't know how to fix this." The small mumble came from her and Jess turned to give Miguel a look while he looked away with squinted eyes. M/n hit Miguels arm with his own and nodded to the girl with a raised brow.

Miguel thought for a bit then threw her a watch. "Well, join the club." He mumbled.

The blonde glanced at the watch with a conflicted expression, the trio finally walking back through the portal leaving her alone with the decision to make. But Gwen knew what the right choice was to make.

So she followed them.

#across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #spiderman #Jess drew #miles morales #Gwen Stacy #Hobie brown #angst #tumble #atsv #malereader #spiderman-across the spider verse #spiderman 2099 #into the spider verse

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