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jo-harrington · 3 months

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Standard Operating Procedures 1.05 (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: It's a normal Sunday night. You're just going over to have dinner, smoke, and listen to music. It's not a date. What could possibly go wrong?

Previous Part: Standard Operating Procedures 1.04

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. Mutual pining, alcohol and drug use (wine, beer, and weed), R has a minor panic attack while high, fluff, lighthearted smut (petting/groping/dry humping), minor angst, misunderstandings and miscommunication, driving probably a little under the influence, slight anachronism (slapping the bag)

Note: Big note for this one if you've read the most recent installations of SMVerse that I've posted...this is NOT in chronological order. SM and Eddie are not together in this one, we are rewinding back before Closing Time. This chapter and the next one are both a little longer and have been lingering in my head for quite a long time. Almost a year. So without further ado, please enjoy SOP 1.05.

You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other writing.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

Sundays were your favorite days, hands down.

They sort of always had been, even before moving to Hawkins. Now, though, you had an extra special reason why they were your favorite.

Sundays meant that you could be yourself after you clocked out. They meant standing in the mirror and wiping away the layers of glitter eyeshadow and scented nail polish off. They meant shedding the overly sparkly jewelry from work and the trendy clothes from the JCPenney or Madigan's Juniors department that were definitely cut for a teenage body.

No matter how young you still were, you just weren't sixteen anymore.

You could finally breathe a little easier.

No more Dress to Impress, no more preppy popular girl, no more customer service voice.

Sundays meant freedom.

Lately, part of that freedom meant walking out of the store, taking the most freeing breath you could, and walking right up to your crush best friend so you could spend those last few dying hours of the weekend together.

Shooting the breeze, laughing, and getting to know one another. Getting to really see one another.

Tonight, though, there was just this cloud hanging over you as you stood in the store's bathroom after hours and shucked off the plaid vest and fashionably unmatched skirt you'd chosen for the day in favor of a t-shirt and comfy stirrup pants.

Summer was over, school was back in session, and you hadn't gotten to see Eddie as much as you normally did.

Which, in the grander scheme of things, a lot of things changed with the new school year starting: a bunch of your associate's schedules changed, a few of them even left town for college, and business started to slow a little during the week for the first time since the store opened.

Still, you missed him.

It felt weird from practically seeing him every day to only seeing him in passing or on the weekends.

What if he didn't want to be friends anymore?

Well, that was just silly. Some remnant of fear about the fickleness of your friends memories in childhood. Besides, the first shift after school started back up, he immediately came running to your store and talked your ear off about the new kids that he forced to join Hellfire.

"God, they're such losers," he reminisced with a sparkle in his eye and a smile on his lips. "They have so much potential. I can't wait for you to meet them."

Tonight though...

Tonight was like any normal night; you were getting together after the mall closed and picking up pizza.

However, instead of any of your usual haunts or shenanigans in and around Hawkins, Eddie insisted you come over to his place. Totally normal.

"And we can smoke," he added as an afterthought.

"You know I don't smoke Eddie," you reminded him. "My grandpa and his crackly lungs? I've taken him to enough doctor's appointments."

"Doesn't stop you from sucking up the air around me when I'm having a cigarette on break. No. I mean smoke. Reefer. Weed. Jesus, don't act ignorant Miss Goody Two Shoes."

"Excuse me," you choked. "How am I Miss Goody Two Shoes?"

"Because," he began with dramatic emphasis. "For all of your stories about garage beers and parties that your work friends dragged you to, you've never mentioned partaking in any sort of illicit substances. You're being obtuse on purpose or you're afraid."

You were caught like a deer in the headlights.

"I...I'm not."

And you weren't; it wasn't fear. It was just...inexperience.

Back home you were always careful, even when you hung around friends from school or work; with your overprotective father and uptight mother and two brothers who wouldn't hesitate to rat you out if they found out you broke some kind of rule? It would be over.

So you never got too wild at parties. Disheveled clothes could be straightened, and you could pretend that swollen lips were just a side effect of getting a little sick. You never drank more beer than whatever made you feel a little floaty if you weren't sleeping over at a friends. And you never smoked weed.

Ok so it was fear, in a way; residual fear. Just not the way Eddie thought.

"Hey, don't worry," Eddie said in the most understanding way he could. "You just tell me and I'll drop it, if you're afraid."

You wanted to tell him, wanted to explain it, but in a moment of reflection and wanting to assuage his worries, defiance got the better of you and you told him that you weren't afraid and it would all be fine.

You were going to be with him; you never needed to be afraid when you were with him.

Now though, staring at yourself in the mirror as you got ready to go and meet Eddie you realized you might have made a mistake.

Hanging out with your crush friend alone at his place? Fine. Sitting close on the couch as you ate pizza and listened to music? Cool. Drinking and smoking together, knowing that you got a little bit chatty when you loosened up a little bit under the influence? Uhm.

What could possibly go wrong?

---

The spread that you and Eddie had created was impressive.

Pizza and a six pack and red vines and...and...and...

Eddie was usually very thorough when it came to providing snacks or planning outings where you could get a nice little treat together. Tonight it was partially your fault.

You'd originally planned just to drive to his place after work and the pizza would be delivered, but he said that when he'd called to place the order at Lou's--large pepperoni and a box of cannoli--they told him that the delivery driver was out. Takeout only.

But then he also forgot to stop at Bradley's for soda.

So you offered to go to Bradley's while he picked up the pizza, and you might have gone overboard.

Soda and a box of wine and peanut m&m's and...and...and...

"And you say that I'm bad," Eddie scoffed as you walked in, arms laden with shopping bags.

"Excuse me, this is the once in a blue moon you let me pay for anything, I'm gonna take advantage of it."

Wayne was still home getting ready for his shift when you got there and he simply shook his head at your bickering with a fond smile, then pilfered a little of everything for his own dinner before leaving you both to it.

Once he was gone, the festivities began.

You were both overzealous, talking a mile a minute over each other about your days as you set up for the night. Eddie divvied out food--creating a plate that reminded you of the Peanuts' Thanksgiving feast, overflowing with multicolored candies and popcorn and pizza slices--as you took care of the drinks.

You were a little smug that you got to teach Eddie something during these little Sunday night not-dates for once.

"Where did you learn this?" he asked skeptically as you ripped into the cardboard box. "What even is Franzia? Sounds fancy."

"It is the least fancy thing you can get," you grinned maniacally and freed the floppy plastic bag full of pink liquid from its confines. "Honestly I should have thrown it in the fridge but it's fine. You can put it with some coke; it'd probably taste better anyway."

He made a face.

"I'll just have a beer."

"Oh my--Eddie! Live a little." You settled the bag on the coffee table and gestured to it. "You don't have to drink it...chug a beer, I don't care...but you need to slap it."

He huffed and shuffled across the carpet on his knees to settle beside you.

"Is this a Claire's thing?" he asked, he looked up at you through his bangs.

"No it's not a--well...no. It doesn't matter! My old store manager, Jen, made us do it whenever we went to parties and hung out at her place. It's fun."

"Why does this feel like a lie?"

You reached out and smacked your hand against the plastic, listened to the liquid slosh inside. He let out a long suffering sigh but gestured for you to go ahead and he settled on the floor as you squealed with glee.

Eddie popped the little tab on the spout and the cheap wine poured freely into his mouth; he maintained eye contact with you the whole time, even as he choked on the unfamiliar taste of the pink zinfandel.

When you'd hung out with Jen and your coworkers and friends, it was just...a silly thing. Now, though, it was just you and Eddie; you stood over him with the bag gently held in your hands over his mouth and his hand rested on your calf as he drank. It was tense and intimate and as you started feeling a little hot under the collar, you wondered if this was a mistake.

Regardless, when he'd had his fill, he shut the spout and raised his hand and slapped the bag so hard it soared out of your grasp and across the living room.

You both burst out laughing as it swished and sloshed with a pronounced glorp on impact with the floor, and Eddie collapsed against your legs as the giddiness got the better of him.

"Ok, that's better than a keg stand." He looked up at you and wiped a hand over his mouth. "Blagh...probably gonna need that coke if I have any more though. Your turn, sweetheart."

Then the tables were turned, but unlike Eddie, you stood toe to toe with him as he held the bag for you.

To avoid the tense eye contact, you kept yours closed as you pulled mouthful after mouthful from the bag. You almost felt a little smug; you'd always been good at this, despite how awful the wine burps were gonna get after. You knew Eddie's competitive nature--always seeing who could finish a blizzard from DQ first and giving himself a brain freeze in the process--so you were hoping to last a little longer, hit the bag a little harder, and get him to concede.

You counted down in your head and finally when you couldn't take the heartburn the wine caused any longer, you shut the spout and released it, ready for victory.

Of course, opening your eyes provided nothing of the sort.

Eddie stood there, inches away from you; his pupils were blown and he was breathing a little heavily and for a split second you thought to ask if he was ok.

Until he leaned a little closer.

Close enough where you could smell the laundry detergent and the general amalgamation of mall scents coming off of him.

Then you noticed that his eyes were locked onto…your lips?

Was he gonna kiss you?

You already thought…well…and in the van the other week? When he licked frosting off your hand? You'd thought...

Except that was the thing, you always thought, you never acted. Too stuck in your head weighing and judging the options and if you could just do something about it. If you could just lean forward a little, you could stop worrying and have your answer right?

And if it wasn't meant to be and things were weird? If he didn't actually mean to try and kiss you? You worked retail; you could bullshit with the best of them if worse came to worse.

Then you'd just pretend that your heart didn't ache from rejection for the duration of your friendship. You were already familiar with disappointment; this would be no different.

Alright, that's it, you weren't gonna chance it anymore. All the worrying you did back at the store was enough. You were just gonna kiss him. Just lean forward; just go. Just go. One, two...two and a half...

Eddie's eyelids fluttered a little bit, and your heart clenched in hope, until he leaned away and cleared his throat.

The wine bag was tossed onto the coffee table and Eddie gestured to the plates he'd prepared.

"So, pizza?"

---

Music was the next event of the night.

And the weed.

Funny how all of your anxiety over smoking flew out the window when you were anxious about something else.

Because you just couldn't get your feelings out of your head after Eddie walked away from a kiss like that.

Was it even going to be a kiss? Or was it just the awkwardness of your positions in that situation? Were you overthinking the overthinking?

On and on those thoughts spiraled.

Until Eddie said he was going to get his stereo to start your comprehensive education of metal.

"We really don't have all night Eddie," you said and threw a balled up napkin at him as he fiddled with his tapes.

"Ok, maybe not fully comprehensive," he held his hands up in surrender. "Nothing sounds better than vinyl and I have all of that at Rick's. And my mom's records. You wanna talk about classics? We've gotta spend a whole weekend there."

He put a tape into the slot and hit play and the room was immediately filled with guitar riffs and singing and shouting; he turned the volume down immediately.

"I've gotta give you the whole history sweetheart," he explained. "So you've gotta hear me too. This song's not so important...I'll turn it up when we get to the good part."

Of course, Eddie's music history lesson...started with him.

"Picture this," he said, arms waving as he walked over to his school things that had been haphazardly thrown in a corner of the room: a wilted canvas backpack, a black binder, and a dented metal lunchbox. "11-year old me, fresh after my mom's funeral and everyone she knew was coming up to us but I refused to talk. Wayne kept making excuse after excuse. But Rick, bless him, said 'gotta make him cry.'"

And on he went as he spilled the contents of the dented lunchbox on the coffee table and began the fine work of rolling a joint.

"Took me to the record store, let me pick out whatever I wanted. Of course I chose Sad Wings of Destiny because the art was cool. Little did I know that would change the course of my life forever."

You didn’t know what to focus on and that made you spiral a little bit further. The words, the music, his lips and his fingers as he followed steps that he seemed to know but didn't feel the need to elaborate on were all very appealing targets; the music and his story was what was important here though and you made the attempt.

He told his story in a way that only Eddie Munson knew how to—arms flailing, minute details, expressions and voices and everything you loved admired about him. He took a moment to swap cassettes and crank up the volume before he fell onto the couch beside you in a mess of cushions and limbs and hair.

"I would say ladies first," he began as he presented the joint to you. He then stuck it between his lips and continued talking around it. "But I'm nothing if not a gentleman and I need to teach you how to do this. It's a little different than cigarettes."

It was a comprehensive lesson and you'd gotten the hang of it quickly, but the proximity did nothing to help calm your nerves; Eddie's knee touching yours, his face and hands so close to yours as he held the joint to your lips, then one hand your shoulder as he soothed the cough that escaped you after your first hit, and finally the way he inhaled along with you as you took another.

Want burned in your lungs along with the smoke, but it didn't leave you when you finally exhaled.

You were very much looking forward to the light and mellow feeling that Eddie promised once the weed hit your system.

"Until then," he grinned and took another hit himself before dropping the smoldering stick into a nearby ashtray. "We just dive into the mind of the great Ronnie James Dio."

You rested back against the cushions and turned your head to really watch him; it was strange just...observing him. You had never done it like this before, close and quiet at this distance. Your time together was always spent with conversation and laughter, your observations and mental notes about him done in little snapshots as he moved through life like a blur.

Now you got to experience the simplicity of his presence in private and the addictive frequency that he emitted.

It was nice.

You watched the way his lashes brushed against his skin as he melted into the sofa beside you and closed his eyes. The way his plush lips pursed and then stretched as he hummed along to the music. You closed your own eyes for a second as he matched the sharpness of the lyrics with his voice, hushed and then shrill, and then hushed again.

And when you opened them back up to watch him some more, he was watching you and practically vibrating.

Your heart skipped a beat...

"Sweetheart," he reached out and touched your wrist. "You ok?"

Wait...he wasn't vibrating.

You were.

Then you noticed that your heart skipped many beats, then the beats suddenly tripled, and then it all slowed again, pounding harder and faster in your chest than you believed to be possible.

Did your chest hurt? Or were you imagining it?

It felt like the few times you ran the mile back in high school, but you hadn't run.

Had you?

Your legs felt like jelly. Your arms too.

So you must have run...but when?

No wait, you were forgetting something. Your chest, your heart, your lungs. You had to focus on them first, you needed them to live.

You tried to fix it all by taking a great gulp of air in--if you felt like you'd just run the mile, surely catching your breath would fix it--but you found that it didn't fix anything. In fact, you seemed to lose even more control of your body. You floundered, breathing heavily over and over, quicker and quicker to try and get a hold of yourself.

And the panic set in, unlike anything you'd ever experienced before in your life.

Your consciousness became untethered from your body and you sank deep within yourself. Like Alice falling down the rabbit hole. Only instead of a rabbit hole, the you that existed in your mind fell away from your eyes and deeper into your skull then out the back of it and into the so-soft cushions of the couch.

But this wasn't sinking, this wasn't melting. This was being buried alive.

You remembered Eddie’s taunting before, about being afraid of smoking. Why hadn’t you told him that you didn’t want to do this? Why hadn’t you told him you were afraid? You were a stubborn idiot and now you’d die here, buried amongst pilling fabric and lost change and lint and a few cheerios that were stuck between the cushions.

You would die here on Eddie's couch...

"Eddie!" you practically sobbed and reached out for him, remembering suddenly that he was there with you. Why wasn't he doing anything to keep you from sinking? "Help!"

"It's ok hey!" He grabbed your hands now and pulled you back from the void, hooked the tether back onto you and saved you from the depths. "It's ok, breathe. No, not like that. Slowly, deep breaths with me. In and hold it and out. Whoooooo."

You focused on the whooshing sound of the air that escaped his lips and you tried to make the same sound yourself. Over and over, slowly as he guided you.

"That's it," he smiled. "Good girl."

You slowly grounded yourself through Eddie, escaping whatever horrible clutches had just grasped at you. You began to feel better, lighter; more centered within yourself but…nicer?

Had that awful feeling been the high? Or was this?

Maybe everyone got caught by a demon when they smoked and then if they escaped they felt a nice light flutter and instead of a heavy beating heart that threatened to burst out of their chests, they felt...silly. Happy. Bubbly.

Like you did whenever you were around Eddie.

Only now it was better, and it was all getting better as he spoke to you and smiled and wiped at the few tears that had escaped your eyes.

Breathe in, breathe out. Good girl.

You kept breathing and staring at his lips.

Breathe in.

Lips.

Breathe out.

Eddie's lips.

Good girl.

You thought about earlier...minutes or hours you couldn't tell for sure...about the way Eddie leaned close to you and almost kissed you. All the worry you'd had about not being able to make a move because you were thinking so much you couldn't act. Here you were now, thinking again. When his lips were right there and you could do something about it.

With one last shaky breath, bubbly infatuation flooded your body; you smiled and said one final farewell to your nervous thoughts, and you surged forward. Your hands shook his away and grabbed at his face, as your lips slid clumsily against his.

Your noses bumped and teeth clacked painfully but it didn't quite matter because the sparks that emanated from your joined lips shot through your limbs and made you both feel tingly and pleasant. At least, you assumed they did for Eddie because he let out a sound that was somewhere in between a giggle and a moan.

But he didn't push you away; in fact, his hands clapped over yours and smushed them further into his cheeks.

He wanted you to kiss him. He wanted to kiss you. He...liked you.

It was a euphoric moment of joy and realization, but your need to put your lips on him outweighed that. So you tried again. Gentler this time.

Eddie followed your lead for a little while as you pulled him towards you; one of his hands found your waist as the other arm rounded your shoulders, and he became your anchor to prevent you from being buried by the sofa again. As thanks for his chivalry, you gifted him with soft caresses, quick pecks, and sharp little nips.

Your fingers developed a mind of their own, and seemed to love his cheekbones and getting tangled in his hair, although they couldn't quite decide which they loved more so back and forth they went.

The rest of you, though--mind and body--just basked in the kissing.

You were good at kissing; you liked kissing. And you liked kissing Eddie, more than you ever thought you would. Kissing under the light, buzzy influence of a beer or two was nice, and it might have been the weed or it could have just been Eddie himself, but this was nicer. Floaty and tingly and transcendent.

The music itself had stopped, but Eddie himself continued to provide the soundtrack to the night. Instead of guitars and vocals and pounding drums, it was a symphony of soft hums and sweet sighs.

Eddie, who often pilfered bites and nibbles off your plate and cited that he was a "growing boy," seemed to prove that his hunger was greater than yours the way he bit and nibbled at you too, appetite growing the longer you kissed. The pace you set no longer fed him the way he wanted and he started to feast a little more; that was a side-effect of being high, right? Hunger. Insatiable hunger?

His mouth pulled away from yours and started to explore your jaw, the column of your neck, the junction between your neck and shoulder. You let yourself get lost in the feeling of his attention, of his lips and hands as he gave and took, of the floaty feeling that settled comfortably in your limbs now, all the nerves of the day forgotten.

Before you knew it, your own hunger grew as well. You wanted him closer, needed more of him now that you had him.

You let yourself drift back along the pillows until you were laying comfortably and pulled Eddie along with you; one hand still lingered in his hair as the other fisted the collar of his shirt and got him right where you needed him to be.

Of course, you couldn't just take without giving as well, and as he settled onto you, your hips bucked up into him. You both moaned--savoring the proximity and delicious friction that his jeans and your leggings provided--and then giggled together as he collapsed on top of you, unprepared for the sudden surge of delight.

His breath fanned across your neck and jaw as he laughed breathlessly, and your hands caressed his head and shoulders fondly as you mirrored him.

He strained his neck a little to look you in the eye; his grin accentuated all the lines in his face, and for a second he struggled to form words. His mouth opened and closed silently and then he licked his lips to compose himself. The next thing you knew, his hand was coming up and squeezing one of your breasts with an exaggerated "honk" as he fell back against the other one and pressed his mouth to the swell over your shirt.

Back into the throes of unadulterated giggles you both went as he continued to honk and kiss and suck at exposed skin.

One of the highlights of the whole night was when he blew a raspberry against your neck; the feeling of goosebumps that erupted along your body and the spittle that sprayed across your skin would be a sensation you would remember and cherish forever.

"No fair," you whined and shifted against him again, both to protest the fact that you currently couldn't return the favor of all the attention he was giving you. Nevertheless, you treated him to the attention that you could, and you bucked your hips up again, only to be met with the feeling of him grinding down onto you.

Giggles began to mingle with desperate pants as he began to shift against you and settled into the cradle of your thighs; he grew harder and ground and rutted against the covered softness of you, faster and sharper, and your body eagerly responded, wanting to be as close to him as you could. As close as either of you could honestly fathom at this point, feeling too good like this to consider that there was more pleasure to be had if time went on and clothes came off.

Sunday nights together were truly gleeful and hedonistic, and tonight was no different. However, instead of snacks and arguments accentuated by the sounds of light-hearted talk and laughter, it was your writhing bodies and mingled breaths that took center stage; the two of you never stopped, only paused for your lips to smack wetly against one another, for your nails to rake through his hair and scratch against his scalp, and for him to grasp at your hips to pull you closer and closer as he drove you higher and higher.

"Eddie, I'm--" you broke away from him and keened, and he responded with a husky "uh-huh" and pressed his forehead against yours. Both of your eyes closed as you felt the pleasure building between the two of you, as he moaned and your toes curled...

As keys jingled in the lock of the front door of the trailer.

...and suddenly it was like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over the both of you and you froze, all thought of completion forgotten.

Your eyes shot open and you stared into Eddie's panic-filled, pleasure-blown pupils. He shifted sharply and then paused, almost like a glitch, and then he was off you, across to the other side of the couch in the blink of an eye. You watched, dumbstruck, as he panted heavily to control his breathing, and he held his head in shaking hands.

"No, no," he muttered. "Shit. Shit."

You reacted quickly as the door started to squeak open--throwing your legs over the edge of the sofa to sit upright as your hands clumsily fixed your disheveled clothes--and Wayne walked in. You took the extra second as he grumbled at the threshold and fiddled with his keys to look at Eddie, hoping for some kind of...secret conspiratorial smile or...or heated gaze...just something but he refused to look at you.

Suddenly, all of the good feelings that had flooded you since the moment that Eddie had chased your panic away...they vanished. The sweet giggles and shared pleasure were gone; even the love bites you were sure Eddie had left behind stung instead of blissfully buzzed.

And in their place, an acute clarity of what the two of you had just done.

"You wouldn't believe the mess I walked into tonight," Wayne chuckled with disbelief as he finally shut the door.

No kidding Wayne, you thought bitterly.

"Some of the machines were down when I got there and it took a few hours to figure out the problem. Some rusted old part..." On and on he chattered as you spiraled, stuck in your thoughts once again.

You and Eddie, Eddie and you. You and your secret crush...had just...on his couch. You and your best friend, your only friend in town...got high and kissed and canoodled and now he refused to even look at you.

You didn't know if it was the weed again or if it was just you, but you could see stars in the corners of your eyes and you felt lightheaded as the panic settled back in. And it only got worse the longer you sat there and tried to get some kind of sign from Eddie, only to be left with nothing. Such a stark contrast from just moments ago where you were giving and taking and responding to one another so freely.

Giving and taking...was that really what it was? Or did you just...do this to him? Do this to the both of you? Effectively tank your friendship the way you'd worried about since the first time you'd hung out and Eddie had specifically said it wasn't a date?

You abruptly got to your feet and Wayne stopped his chatter and looked at you questioningly.

"I..." you felt your throat closing up with emotion. "I just forgot I have a really important call first thing tomorrow. I...need to go!"

Eddie finally looked at you with wide, shocked eyes.

Were those tears? Oh god...

"I...it was nice to see you Wayne, sorry..." you scrambled to grab your bag from where you'd tossed it by the door and then looked back at both Munsons. Back and forth at Wayne's curious expression...and Eddie's devastated one. "I'm...sorry."

And you bolted out the door, into your car, and back across town to the lonely confines of your apartment, where you would wish for a second chance at Sunday all over again.

Because until tonight, Sundays had always been your favorite days.

Next Part: Leave of Absence

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #store manager verse #Eddie munson smut #stranger things fic #stranger things Eddie munson

254 notes · View notes

cacoetheswriting · 11 months

Text

pearl: june & july 1985

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader word count: 4.5k chapter summary: reunions aren't always happy on the first try.

content warnings: best friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, adult language & mature themes, stubborn idiots in love, quite angsty, a little fluff, mentions of the upside down / blood / character death / loss of a parent, grief and grief management, emotional hurt / comfort, self-doubt / insecurities, mentions recreational drug use, use of pet names - if i missed anything, pls let me know!

pearl masterlist

June 20, 1985

With another failed senior year behind his belt, Eddie was feeling mighty sorry for himself.

He really banged on graduating this year so he could leave Hawkins behind forever, along with all the memories he had associated with this place.

Memories of you.

His grip on reality was slipping and this time it wasn’t because of the weed.

Yeah, he smoked the devils lettuce more over the last six months than ever before, but that’s not what had him tripping. You did, or rather the memory of you and how badly he fucked everything up before last Christmas.

Starcourt Mall had quickly become the only place in Hawkins not tainted by the memory of you.

Eddie didn’t like coming here, it was too colourful, too cheerful. On afternoons like this though, when he found himself reaching for Pearl and the scarf you left behind, Starcourt Mall was exactly where he needed to be.

Turns out that, unfortunately, the universe had other plans. Apparently it didn’t want him to escape this literal hell that’s been seeing you everywhere he went, or hearing the sweet sound of your voice in every possible surrounding. Apparently the universe didn’t want Eddie to forget you despite his desperate need to.

A belief affirmed when Eddie walked by the food court.

“Freedom is just another word for nothin' left to lose. Nothin', don't mean nothin' hon' if it ain't free.”

What the fuck— he froze in his spot, just outside Scoops Ahoy. At the end of the locale, behind the till, was the girl he'd been desperately trying to get over, and right next to you, singing his own terrible rendition of Me and Bobby McGee was fucking Steve Harrington.

Eddie's jaw clenched instinctually and his fingers balled into fists at the sight in front of him. Fury began to burn through his veins as you tilted your head back in laughter at Steve dancing around you, holding an ice-cream scooper in front of his face like a microphone.

Not only were you back in Hawkins and the metalhead somehow didn’t know, you were also hanging around Steve the Hair Harrington, singing a song deemed to be only yours and Eddie’s.

Back in December, when you two saw each other last, you gave Eddie shit for lending a tape of what you yourself declared to be the album that’s defined your friendship. Even though the underlying subject of that argument was larger than the tape in question, looking at you now, Eddie was hurt.

Yeah, it was mostly his fault you weren’t friends anymore, he knew that. But despite his shitty behaviour towards you, this was a stab in the back 'cause you were twirling around Harrington, singing along, “Good enough for me and my Bobby McGee”, as if nothing you shared with the metalhead mattered.

Eddie observes as you playfully slapped Steve’s chest, the biggest smile gracing your features. He didn’t realise just how much he missed seeing your smile until this moment, and every fibre of his being ached because he wasn’t the reason for your happy reactions anymore.

Time seems to have come to a standstill.

He's not sure how long he's stood there shamelessly staring, but whatever spell he found himself under is broken when a group of kids runs past him. In that same moment, you disappear into the back of Scoops Ahoy and Eddie knows he doesn't have long before you return so he hurries inside — maybe Harrington can give him some answers.

“Ahoy, how can I help you today?” Steve announces excitedly when Eddie approaches, however, the playful charade is just that, a charade. The second the metalhead stop at the till, Steve leans in close and grumbles, “She doesn’t wanna see you, man. Either get some ice-cream or get lost.”

“How do you know I’m here for her?” Eddie scoffs, trying to play tough.

Harrington rolls his eyes. “Dude, you’re not fooling anyone. I freaking saw you standing out there for the last fifteen minutes, eyeing her like she’s some prize you can never win.”

The sigh that escapes Eddie's lips is defeated.

“Look man, I’m not here to cause a scene, okay? I just wanna know how long she’s been back in Hawkins.”

“And then you’ll leave?” Steve sounds sceptical but Eddie nods 'cause regardless of what the King of Hawkins may think, Eddie really wasn’t in the mood for some big confrontation.

“Okay dude, okay. Ehm… I really shouldn’t be telling you this, but she dropped out of college in early March and was back here about a month later so… guess the answer you are looking for is April.”

April. You've been at Eddie’s fingertips for the guts of three months and he didn’t have a clue. How the hell did you manage to steer clear of him for this long? Hawkins isn’t that big of a town.

“Now, are you getting a scoop or—”

“Nah man, I’m going.” Eddie mutters and shoots Steve a weak smile. “Thanks, eh… I appreciate you being honest with me. I don’t know what she told you—”

“Munson, whatever went down between the two of you is none of my business. All I know is she made it quite clear she didn’t want to see you and as her friend, I owe her to see that request through.”

Sliding his hands into the pockets of his jacket, Eddie chews down on his bottom lip.

“Yeah, I get it. See you around, Harrington.”

Dropping his head, Eddie's exit is just as quick as his entrance. He does make one more mistake though. He decides to look back at the till. Not really because he thought he’d see you again, but that’s exactly what happened. You're at Steve’s side again, only this time your attention is elsewhere.

You are looking right at Eddie, a perplexed expression on your face.

The metalhead lifts his hand and waves at you rather awkwardly. To his surprise, you do the same. The action, albeit small, is enough to ignite a glimmer of hope within the curly-haired boy. One that's quickly squashed by a feeling of resentment and he heads in the direction of the exit as you follow him with your longing gaze.

“You said you didn't wanna talk to him,” Steve defends his actions for shooing Eddie away.

“I know.”

Over the last couple of months, Steve Harrington had become your knight in shining armour.

Ever since Christmas of 1984, he’d been at your beck and call, from driving down to see you every other weekend while you were still at college, to helping you with various basic chores for your mom.

You weren’t quite best friends, but you were inseparable. Steve made moving back to Hawkins easier. He was actually the first person you told about your decision to drop out and the boy couldn’t have been more supportive. He even came with you to convince your mom this was for the best — although, it was not like she needed much convincing because ever since your dad passed… well, she hasn’t entirely been herself.

She is a big reason why coming home was the right thing to do. Your mom needed you now more than ever and you needed her just the same.

To say you hadn’t quite come to terms with your dad’s death would be a severe understatement. Yes, you learned how to cope with the day to day, and honestly, you were on the right path to fully allow yourself to feel all the emotions you'd been somewhat suppressing, but then you found out the truth.

Back in February, you came to visit your mom for her birthday. At first, she didn’t want anything extravagant, but after bumping into Karen Wheeler at the store, your mom decided that company is perhaps exactly what she needed. “The house has been so empty since your dad’s funeral,” were her exact words.

That’s how you ended up sitting in the garden on the snow-covered patio furniture with Steve and a bunch of kids he swore he didn’t babysit.

You don’t exactly remember who let the word Demodog slip first — Steve thinks it’s Dustin because apparently that boy can never keep his mouth shut. Once you noticed the horrified look on all of their faces, you knew it was a word you weren't supposed to hear.

After much nagging and borderline blackmailing, you came to learn a lot more than you had bargained for: the Upside Down, Jane’s real identity, Eleven, along with her crazy superpowers, and most importantly, the events that transpired at Hawkins Lab in November 1984 leading to how your dad really died.

By the time you had gone back to college, the scary creatures those kids described had invaded your dreams. You weren't eating, you weren't sleeping. You basically forgot how to function. Your grades began to slip and it didn’t take long for your to realise you no longer felt a passion towards American Literature.

Although being back in Hawkins terrified you, being around your mom, seeing you smile for the first time since November, and being around Steve, cleared the dark fog that had formed within you. By the time summer had come around, you were genuinely happy again.

That feeling lasted until today.

The second your gaze landed on a leather clad frame with a set of curly brown locks, your heart stopped. A certain melancholy overcame you as his doe-eyes locked with yours. He waved awkwardly and when you lifted your hand to do the same, you realised you haven't been completely happy.

There was an Eddie shaped hole in your heart. It’s been there since your last conversation in December, if not earlier, the funeral perhaps. You just subconsciously decided not to address it.

You watch him hurry away and something inside of you snaps, or maybe it clicks into place. Either way, before Steve can do anything to stop you, you rush out of Scoops Ahoy and in the direction Eddie disappears in.

He’s not hard to spot in the crowd. His dark attire is easily noticeable amongst all the neon of other Starcourt Mall goers. You debate calling his name, but then again you don’t really want to talk to him with so many people around. Your first conversation since December should be somewhere more private — especially since you're not sure exactly what you want to say.

Once outside however, you're forced to make a brisk decision.

“Eddie?”

The sound of his name causes him to halt. He slowly spins on his heel and the two of you are now standing face to face, only an arms length apart, for the first time in months.

“I thought you didn’t want to see me,” his tone is surprisingly harsh, “Or did Harrington lie to me?”

“Well, I-I…” you inhale, fidgeting with your work uniform. “N-no, Steve didn’t lie. But then I saw you anyway, outside the shop, and I-I… well, I don’t know exactly.”

The metalhead is agitated. You can tell by the way he runs a hand down his face before crossing his arms across his chest.

You begin to panic.

How stupid of you to run after him like some pathetic school girl in love. How stupid of you to think even for a second you could have a normal conversation considering how badly the last one ended — “Perhaps space is exactly what we need,” the argument is now ringing in you ears, “We clearly forgot how to be there for one another.”.

“Forget it,” you mutter, “I don’t know why I followed you out here.”

You're about to walk back inside when suddenly Eddie’s hand is holding onto your forearm, preventing you from going anywhere. Your shocked gaze shifts to his grasp on you and the feeling of his skin on yours sends a shiver down your spine.

After a split-second, you nervously lift your eyes to meet his.

“Why didn’t you tell me you came home?”

There’s a sense of urgency in his question. Urgency and a hint of betrayal. You hesitate to answer as there are a number of different scenarios running laps across your mind. All you are certain of is you won’t be made to feel guilty for this decision.

“Are you forgetting you’re the one that said we needed space from each other?” You bite back, snatching your hand free from his strong grip. “I’m giving you what you asked for, Eddie. What more can you possibly want from me?”

“Your behaviour is fucking confusing!” Eddie yells, earning the two of you some rather questionable looks from other patrons of Starcourt Mall. He’s quick to notice the odd glances and composes himself briskly while taking a step towards you.

“I’m supportive, you’re agitated and then ignore me. I try to give you room to breathe, you give me shit for being a bad friend. I stand up for my own feelings, it’s wrong. I tell you what you want to hear, I agree about spending time apart, and you follow me out here only to be a bitch. I’ve done everything you wanted these last few months and you continue to give me a hard time.” Eddie exhales sharply then continues, “Okay, I get it, perhaps you were staying true to our promise by not telling me you were back in Hawkins, but if you really didn’t want to see me, why the fuck did you follow me out here?”

“You actually think time apart is what I wanted?” You ask, focusing on that part of his speech.

Eddie nods, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, and your lips part slightly in shock.

“I never wanted this. I never wanted to be away from you for this long. If you took the time to read the letters I left you, you would fucking know that!” You jab your finger into his chest with all the power you can muster.

He grabs your finger, squeezing it. “I kissed you and you fucking froze me out,” he practically hisses, though the pain in his eyes betrays his angered front “And you're apparently dating Harrington now so fuck me, I guess, for thinking you felt something too.”

“This is pathetic, Eddie. I can’t believe you.”

He opens his mouth for a rebuttal, but he never gets the chance to say anything because you're both interrupted.

“There you are!” Robin hails your attention and Eddie drops his hold on you immediately. “Steve said something about finding you? Can you believe that guy? I literally just got in for my shift and he has me running around the whole mall as if he doesn’t finish work in ten minutes—” She stops, glancing between you and the metalhead.

“Everything okay?” Robin asks.

“Yeah,” you reply, perhaps a little too quickly, “We were just catching up.”

You can tell she doesn’t entirely believe you and honestly you couldn’t blame her since you and Eddie didn’t necessarily display the body language of two people having a friendly talk. But Robin doesn’t say anything to point out the stiff dynamic. Instead, she links her arm with yours and starts to slowly pull you away from the curly-haired boy.

“Is your mom still making bolognese tonight? Do you think she’d mind if I crashed your dinner? I love pasta.” Robin babbles while you shoot Eddie one last look. He dips his head, avoiding your gaze, and begins to trek in the other direction, assumingly towards his van.

Your heart is aching as you watch him go. Once again you are victims of poor communication and seriously bad timing.

July 4, 1985

Holidays really aren’t Eddie's thing.

Even growing up he thought the Easter Bunny was dumb, Halloween just a little too childish, and the magic of Christmas purely designed for people with big happy families — something he wasn’t privy too.

That all changed when you waltzed into his life.

Eddie was quickly fascinated by how you easily made every single holiday special in some way, even the really obscure ones like National Pizza Day, or National Cat Day. By simply being yourself, you made these celebrations fun and unique.

4th of July in particular had become Eddie’s favourite.

Every year, the two of you would enjoy a barbecue at your parents house, Wayne would be invited too. Everyone would watch the firework display from the backyard, and then you and Eddie would leave to camp out by Skull Rock.

The night was usually sleepless. You’d smoke, exchange ghost stories, and fill your stomachs with junk food you had previously taken from your parents' press.

Last 4th July, Eddie almost told you he had feelings for you.

This year, you wanted nothing to do with him.

Wallowing in his own self-pity, Eddie decided to spend this 4th of July in bed. He stocked up on soda and snacks, and planned on getting so high, he would think the fireworks were aliens coming to abduct him.

He had just about cracked his window open to allow for minimal ventilation during the night, when someone started banging on his door. Uncle Wayne enters moments later, the expression on his face is one of horror, but then also relief and Eddie's stomach twists into a knot.

“Oh thank heavens you’re here, boy.” Wayne exhales.

“Where else would I be?” Eddie questions, slowly crossing his room.

Wayne waves his hand dismissively and turns on his heel, walking away from his curly-haired nephew. A huff escapes Eddie's lips when he's forced to follow.

“Where else would I be?” He repeats.

“Doesn’t matter, kid. Just glad you’re safe.”

“Come on, Wayne. Don’t be like that.” Eddie probes, “You came running into my room as if something happened and now you just expect me to drop it?”

Uncle Wayne sighs. He’s facing his nephew now, hands on his hips. “Thought you’d be at Starcourt Mall for some reason. Glad you’re not is all.”

Eddie's brows furrow. “Starcourt Mall? What’s happening at Starcourt Mall?”

'Cause he's not at Starcourt Mall, but someone he knows, and despite everything, someone he still cares for quite deeply, most likely is. His insides fill with dread. Judging by his uncles behaviour, something bad has happened and Eddie can’t just stand here knowing he could do more, knowing he could at least try to see you.

So he doesn't waste any more time, running back to his room to throw on a pair of disheveled sneakers, before pushing past Wayne to get to the front door.

“Where are you going?”

“Starcourt Mall.”

“Eddie—”

“She could be there,” is all Eddie says. It’s all Wayne needs to hear. He throws his nephew the keys to the van and Eddie hurries outside.

The entire drive to the shopping centre, Eddie is feeling frantic. He still has no idea what happened, but his entire body is shaking. Even though you and him aren’t exactly on the best of terms, at this moment in time, you are everything to him. The mere thought of losing— no, he can’t be focused on the bad things right now.

Unfortunately, he’s right to be scared.

Chaos unfolds in front of Eddie’s eyes the closer he gets to Starcourt Mall. It seems the entire fire department has passed him on the way and as he turns the corner, he knows exactly why.

Bright orange flames engulfed the entirety of the venue. Eddie has never witnessed a fire of this extent, but he is smart enough to know the probability of someone making it out alive are quite slim. All he can do now is hope you weren't inside when the fire started. All he can do is hope he can find you amongst the crowd gathered in the parking lot, before rushing to your house just in case you’ve been there all along. Safe.

He parks the van as close as he can and sneaks under the police tape when no one is looking. There is so much going on, Eddie isn’t sure where to focus his attention. People screaming, children crying, first responders running up and down. His heart is in his throat while he looks around like a headless chicken, feeling frantic.

Suddenly, there’s an arm on his shoulder and he panics some more, thinking he got busted, though when he shifts in his spot to meet whoever has grabbed him, he feels relief.

“Dude,” Harrington drops his hold on the metalhead, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Even under the night sky, Eddie can see the brunette boy looks rough. Judging by the red-ish bruises on his face, whatever happened to him, had nothing to do with the fire. But Eddie doesn’t care about that right now. There is only one person on his mind.

“Where is she?”

Steve knows exactly who Eddie's asking for and he’s kind enough not to put up a fight. Instead, he points in the direction of an ambulance closest to the burning mall.

You had never been more scared in your life.

Stories of the Upside Down had haunted you ever since you found out about the other world under Hawkins, but they had been just that, stories. Then a couple of days ago Dustin showed up at Scoops Ahoy with some Russian code and things quickly evolved from there.

You were convinced you were going to die when the Russians took you, Robin, and Steve as prisoners. You were convinced you were going to die when they chased you around the mall. You were convinced you were going to die when Billy showed up out of nowhere, followed closely by what the kids called a Mind Flayer.

Despite all of the events from the last few days, by some heavenly miracle and thanks to a lot of dumb luck, you survived.

Well, most of you.

Your eyes dart to Max. She’s resting her head on Lucas’ shoulder, patiently waiting for her mom to arrive on the scene. You swallow thickly at the memory of the young girl screaming over Billy’s lifeless body. You can feel her pain. You can feel all of their pain.

Especially Eleven’s.

Your focus shifts to the girl that saved you all. She’s wrapped up in a police blanket, Mike and Will by her side. She seems frozen. The boys are trying to talk to her, but she’s blanking them out completely. It’s not until Joyce approaches that the young brunette displays some sort of emotion. Throwing her arms around the woman’s neck, you can see her start to cry. No girl deserves to lose her dad. Especially not the way she did. You unfortunately had that in common now.

Sliding your arms into the jacket you were given by one of the fire fighters, you stand, about to walk towards Eleven. You're thinking you can hug her. Tell her you're here for her 'cause there’s nothing that brings people closer than shared trauma. But before you can do any of that, someone steps in front of you, blocking your view.

You lift your gaze.

“Jesus Christ, I’m so glad you’re okay.” Eddie breathes.

In a flash, his arms are wrapped around your waist. You return the hug instantly, squeezing him tight while your fingertips tangle themselves in his bouncy curls. You take a moment to inhale his musky scent. The thought of why he’s here crosses your mind, but you shove past it because at the end of the day, you’re simply glad he is.

The two of you couldn’t possibly be any closer, yet you're tugging at each other’s clothes and limbs as if you were trying to become one. His ring-clad fingers are digging into your flesh while you push your body further into his chest. You can feel his heart beating against you and you're convinced he can feel yours too.

“Fuck, princess, you have no idea…” he whispers in your ear, the remainder of his sentence fading into the night. “I thought I lost you. For real.”

“I’m right here,” you murmur into his hair. You didn’t entirely feel like yourself, understandably so, but you knew in your soul Eddie needed to hear those words.

He pulls back slightly and gently cups your face in his hands. “I don’t know about you, but pretending to hate you has been absolutely exhausting.”

The admission lingers in the air between you, causing a smile to tug at your lips.

“I missed you so much, princess.”

“I missed you too, Eds.”

Corners of his mouth also tip upwards into a timid smile He proceeds to take in a deep breath, his thumbs caressing along your jawline.

“I-I read your letters,” he admits then lets out a soft chuckle, “Actually, full transparency, I re-read them maybe fifty-six times, if not more.”

Your own smile grows wider ‘cause suddenly everything feels okay again.

“You’re bluffing.”

Eddie proceeds to lift one hand. “Cross my heart,” he says, mimicking his words.

“Those letters are all I have— had of you. I know I acted quite unfairly considering everything you were going through. I know I said some harsh things. Those letters you left me, they made me realise just how much I need you in my life and I should have told you that the last time we stood in this parking lot, if not sooner. I’m sorry, princess,” he pauses, “For everything.”

“I’m sorry too, Eddie.” You express, “I’ve been acting really selfishly since, and even at the funeral.”

But he shakes his head and intertwines his fingers with yours.

“Sweetheart, you have every damn right to be selfish. Losing someone important to you like that… Hell, if I lost you, I would probably burn this whole town to the ground in my grief.”

He grimaces and briefly looks around. “Sorry. Burn is probably the wrong choice of words in this instance, but you get my point.”

The chuckle that escapes your lips is soft.

“It’s okay, Eddie. I-I.. I’m just really glad you came, that you’re here. Suddenly this whole thing doesn’t seem so bad anymore.”

“And I’m glad you’re okay, “ he states and hugs you again, placing a delicate kiss on your crown.

The two of you stand there for a moment, embracing one another. Your hands have since moved to his back, under his black t-shirt. The feeling of his soft skin under your palms is so soothing, you almost forget where you are and the circumstances surrounding your situation.

It’s damn near perfect, hiding from the world in his embrace. And you think perhaps you love him more than before, if that’s even possible considering how much time you spent apart.

“Can I ask you one more thing?” Eddie asks, breaking the spell as well as the hug. He pulls back although his hold on you doesn’t end because he takes your hand.

“Anything.”

The metalhead nervously scratches the back of his neck.

“This is really stupid and it’s seriously not the time to be asking you this, but I just gotta know. Shit. Did you mean what you said in those letters? What you wrote about me?”

You suck in your bottom lip between your teeth. Eddie senses your apprehension because he’s quick to add, “It’s no big deal. I-I was just curious.”

Squeezing his hand, you exhale softly.

“Every word, Eds.”

Eddie fails to conceal a smile. He swings an arm around your shoulder, hand still holding your own, and as the two of you wander back towards his van, you know for sure your feelings for him have only grown stronger — despite everything that’s happened.

You love him with every fibre of your being, though that’ll continue to remain unspoken, for now.

The crossed out lines on your unsent letters being the only tangible proof.

pearl masterlist | main masterlist

& tagging some cool people that expressed interest in this lil series: @cactusangie , @spenciesprincess , @capitanostella , @ashlynnkennedy , @ms1oftheboys

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fix it fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x best friend reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson best friend #bestfriend!eddie #pearl (eddies version)

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cirilla-fiona-riannon · 5 months

Text

Francis Drake Main Story

This is simply a fan translation and is not intended as a replacement for the game.

TW: This chapter mentions violence and death. Please read on with caution.

Major spoilers ahead.

This is a rush translation, so yeah, expect a lot of grammatical mistakes.

I walked down the hallway lined with antiques, just like the one I passed through when I arrived in the 19th century.

The door in the mansion was shrouded in fog, but strangely, nothing happened in this hallway.

(Drake must be ahead.)

(But where on earth does this lead to?)

Comte told me that this hallway would respond to human emotions and lead you to your destination.

This was how Comte found everyone.

(If Drake's goal is me, I'm sure I'll find a way to get to where he is.)

(I have no proof of this, but I have no choice but to believe it.)

Repeating it to myself, I kept walking deeper and deeper into the hallway until I saw a light at the end.

(Is this a forest?)

After being enveloped by a bright light, the scenery changed completely.

At first glance, it looked like a forest, but looking closely, it was actually a mansion's garden.

(Is Drake here? Or did I wander somewhere?)

(In any case, I need to explore the area.)

Feeling anxious, I walked around the mansion, and suddenly一

???: "No!"

(I just heard a woman's scream from inside.)

The mansion's windows, where the voice came from, were completely covered with curtains.

However, I found a small gap and peeked inside secretly.

There, a scene that made me shudder spread before me.

Woman: "Stop. Please, stop."

Among several people, a crying woman was tied to a cross-shaped piece of wood, and the hall that seemed like it could be used for a party was filled with an eerie atmosphere.

(What the hell are they doing?)

Boy: "Damn it! Let go of me!!"

(----!)

I moved my gaze as I heard a child's scream and saw a boy who was not even ten years old being held down by adults.

Boy: "Let me go! What are you going to do to my mom?!"

Man: "Shut up, Dhampir!"

(Huh? Just now...)

Before I could process the words I heard, the older man in the scene raised his fist and slapped the boy's cheek.

Blood then overflowed from his mouth and dripped onto the red carpet.

(This is horrible.)

I stood there, shocked by their brutal treatment.

Woman: "Master, please stop! Don't harm Francis!!"

(Francis!?)

The woman certainly called the boy by that name.

(That man earlier called him a Dhampir.)

(Then that boy is Drake.)

(Does this mean this is his past?)

(So the tied-up woman is his mother, and the ones around her are...)

The man referred to as the head of the clan looked down on the young Drake with contempt as he wiped his hands.

Clan Chief: “This woman, your mother, is a disgrace to our prestigious Drake family.”

Clan Chief: “Despite being a noble pureblood, she associated with lowly humans and even gave birth to a disgusting half-breed.”

Young Drake: “.........”

Clan Chief: “You should be erased from this world.”

From the man’s demeanor, it was clear that he harbored disdain for humans, and the scene before me brought to mind the story Drake had told me before.

------------Flashback-----------

Drake: "You see, my mother comes from a somewhat special and prestigious lineage."

Drake: "In her final moments, my mother averted her gaze from me and said, I should never have given birth to you."

---------Flashback Ends--------

(If his past is happening right now, then is his mom really gonna betray him?)

To me, it seemed like she was desperately trying to protect Drake.

Clan Chief: “We vampires carry the gift of eternal life. We are superior beings compared to humans.”

Clan Chief: “Those who tarnish that pride have no right to live eternally.”

The clan chief nodded, and one of the surrounding people brought a sharp spear.

(No way...)

Young Drake: “Stop, please stop!”

Drake, upon seeing the spear, desperately struggled and finally broke free from the adults' restraints. He ran towards his mother and attempted to bite through the rope that was binding her waist.

Young Drake: "Mom, I'll definitely save you!"

Drake's Mother: "Francis..."

Seeing Drake's determined attempt to protect his mother made my heart tighten.

Pureblood: "You dhampir, behave yourself!"

Young Drake: "No! Let go!!"

Pureblood: "Your turn will come later. I will make you fully realize your mother's foolishness and the sinfulness of your existence."

Drake's Mother: "Francis!"

The adults immediately pulled Drake away, but he continued to resist and struggle.

His mother, still bound, twisted her body repeatedly, but the restraints didn't loosen.

Eventually, her tear-stained face broke into a painfully crooked smile.

Drake's Mother: "Ahahaha! To think I would end up like this just because I met your father and gave birth to you!"

Young Drake: "Mom?"

Confused, Drake looked up, and his mother turned her face away.

Drake's Mother: "Francis, I shouldn't have given birth to you."

Drake's Mother: "Get out of my face!"

Drake's mother's scream struck him.

(Oh no.)

(This is the first betrayal Drake spoke of.)

The words, sharper than any spear, must have cut deep into Drake's heart.

Shocked, sorrowful, and various emotions flooded over me, and I gazed at his mother in disbelief.

Drake's Mother: ".........."

(Huh? Did she just say something?)

I squinted and saw her lips, peeking through her hair, form a certain word.

Is she crying out of pity for herself or something else?

(Could it be that his mom...)

At that moment, the head of the clan grabbed Drake's hair and forcibly lifted his face.

Young Drake: "Ugh..."

Clan chief: "Haha, did you hear her words just now? This woman has fallen into hell by giving birth to you!"

Clan chief: "You'd better watch the end of your mother. This is the sin of your birth, Dhampir!"

In the next instant一

(Stop...)

Young Drake: "Stop!!"

Drake's mother was pierced through the chest with the spear.

Young Drake: "Ah..."

His mother's gruesome figure was reflected in his aquamarine eyes.

(Is this really happening?)

Unable to bear such a merciless scene, I covered my eyes.

Witnessing the brutal killing of his mother was something no child like him could bear.

Clan Chief: "Now, it's your turn. You filthy Dhampir."

(----!)

I looked up to see the spear dripping with blood pointed at Drake.

(Drake, run!)

I was about to shout that when一

Young Drake: "Ugh. Arghhh!!"

Clan Chief: "Gyaahh?!"

Drake sank his teeth into the shoulder of the clan chief, who had been holding him.

Despite being bound, he attacked the vampires, throwing off the hands of the startled adults.

His disheveled hair and eyes wet with tears glared with anger, giving off an intimidating presence.

Pureblood: "Eeek, demon!"

Clan Chief: "Guhh, what are you doing?! Kill him, stab him with the spear!!"

Just as the spear was about to be aimed again, Drake charged towards the window, breaking through the glass and rolling out to the outside.

I quickly hid myself behind the corner of the building.

Young Drake: "Why, why did this happen? Mom..."

Young Drake: "Am I an unwanted child? Then why did you give birth to me?"

Young Drake: "Damn it, damn it! I'll make those fucking vampires disappear!"

(Drake!)

Unable to resist, I chased after him as he ran deeper into the forest, shouting.

(---!?)

Suddenly, a gust of wind blocked my path and obscured my vision.

Feeling like a tornado had swallowed me, I cautiously opened my eyes and saw a forest.

(Is this the same forest as before?)

(Where’s Drake? And why does something feel off?)

???: “*pant* *pant*”

(Someone’s coming!)

I hid behind a nearby tree as the sound of someone hurriedly running approached.

Just as a male figure was about to run past me, a gunshot rang out.

???: “Gah!! My leg!!”

The person, shot in the leg, crawled to the ground.

(That person is the clan chief from earlier.)

Drake: “Don’t run, Mr. noble pureblood.”

(Drake?!)

Quietly stepping on the grass, the person I knew too well appeared.

(He’s an adult now. Does that mean time has passed since earlier?)

Coldly staring down at the clan chief, Drake held a gun in one hand and dragged a long spear stained with blood in the other.

Clan chief: “Are you seeking revenge for having your mother killed!? It’s all that woman’s fault!”

Clan chief: “You, filthy dhampir, are a disgrace to our clan.”

Drake: “Shut up.”

The moment his cold voice silenced his words, he raised the spear and plunged it deep into the clan chief’s chest.

Drake: “This is the end for you. I’ll eliminate every vampire in the Drake family with this spear.”

Drake: "Now you can finally say goodbye to the disgrace."

The man groaned in pain for a while before falling silent.

(He just killed him.)

I covered my mouth and collapsed to the ground, trembling after seeing him kill someone.

(He probably killed many more people during his lifetime, but…)

Even though I knew it in my head, seeing it happen right before me was...

(Scary. He's scary.)

My heart was overwhelmed with fear.

Drake: "I killed them all with this spear."

(Drake?)

Drake: "I've taken my revenge, hahaha!"

He laughed like a maniac. His behavior seemed less like joyful revenge and more like giving up on himself.

(I never expected you to smile so painfully.)

Still laughing, he pulled out the spear, licked the dripping blood from it, and suddenly stopped, holding his throat.

Drake: "Haha! Even this disgusting blood can quench my thirst."

Drake: "This damn body..."

He hunched over, trying to suppress his bloodlust.

(I'm afraid of him, but I can't help but want to hug his back.)

Overwhelmed by my own emotions, a sudden gust of wind blew and obscured my vision once again.

(Where am I this time?)

When I opened my eyes, I found myself in a corner of a splendid and dazzling grand hall.

In the center, a dignified woman was sitting on a throne, and in front of her was a man kneeling.

(That's Drake...)

Queen: "It seems like you've succeeded. I heard that you also obtained the vampire-slaying spear."

Queen: "Francis Drake, the dhampir."

Drake: "Yes, Your Majesty."

(That's Queen Elizabeth I.)

(Wait, did the Queen know about the vampires and his true identity?)

The queen, hiding her mouth with a fan, chuckled as she looked at him.

Queen: "Fufu. Capturing your pirate ship turned out to be a lucky win for me."

Queen: "Revealing the existence of the spear and having you take care of the vampires has indeed been a very good deal."

Drake: "What about my crew?"

Queen: "I will set them free."

He seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

(He talked about his family and even got his hands dirty for the sake of his crew.)

Queen: "Drake, will you continue our deal? I have invested in you and will grant you special privileges for your pirate activities."

Drake: "Ha?"

Queen: "In exchange..."

The queen rose from her throne, approached him, and lifted his chin with her folded fan. She then smirked, revealing her lips adorned with red rouge.

Queen: "Hey, Drake. Although vampires are rare in number, they possess strong bodies and are immortal."

Queen: "Moreover, according to the royal investigation, it seems they have secretly infiltrated various countries around the world."

Queen: "And as a dhampir like yourself, you can sense their presence."

Drake: "........."

Queen: "Vampires who drink human blood pose a threat to England. As the queen, I want to protect my people."

Queen: "We must eradicate these beings that bare their fangs at humans."

Drake: "And what do you want me to do?"

Queen: "Rejoice, for I shall give you a mission. Travel the world and hunt those vampires with that spear."

Queen: "My pirate, become the royal's right hand and protect England."

(This is not a mere deal.)

(The queen is giving him an order, knowing he can't resist.)

Drake: “.........”

Drake: "Yes, Your Majesty. As you command."

Wiping away all emotion from his face, Drake answered meekly.

From then on, I continued to witness glimpses of his past as he wandered through different eras.

Vampire 1: "I don't indiscriminately attack humans! So, please let me go. Gyaah!"

While traveling the world on his ship, he repeatedly engaged in piracy while also finding vampires in various places.

Vampire 2: "To think a dhampir would lay hands on vampires. Ugh..."

Keeping it a secret from his crew, he carried out the queen's orders in solitude.

Vampire 3: "You also carry the blood of a vampire! How can you betray your own people, you bastard!?"

Brandishing a spear shaped like a knife, Drake hunted down countless immortal vampires.

Previous Part ╎ Masterlist ╎ Next Part

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp jp #ikevamp drake #ikevamp francis #ikevamp translations #cybird #francis drake

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wrestlersownmyheart · 24 days

Text

Closer Than You Think Prologue/Chapter 1 (Dean Ambrose X OC)

Keep in mind with this story that it's a bit of a reimagining, sort of a "what if" scenario if you will. What I mean is... the Shield never broke up nor did Dean evolve into Moxley and join AEW. In my perfect world he stayed with Seth and Roman.

With that being said, I give you Closer Than You Think!

Title: Closer Than You Think Pairing: Dean Ambrose X OC: Shannon Brock Summary: When a serial killer claims a number of victims including NXT wrestler, Shannon Brock's cousin, she vows to find the killer after she is bumped to RAW from NXT. Her cousin's lover, AJ Styles, appoints himself and the Shield—Dean Ambrose, Seth Rollins and Roman Reigns—as her bodyguards.

Dean takes the task very seriously and doesn't let Shannon out of his sight, despite the game of cat and mouse they play with the killer. Can he keep her safe, or will the killer claim his ultimate victim?

Disclaimers: I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with WWE. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination. Content/Trigger Warnings: Extreme Violence against women; murder

Prologue/Chapter 1

Evil Is Born…

"When this monster entered my brain, I will never know, but it is here to stay. How does one cure himself? I can't stop it, the monster goes on, and hurts me as well as society…"

~Dennis Rader (BTK Killer)~

Being born was the biggest mistake I ever made.

I learned very soon in life that my mother never really wanted me. She reminded me all the time how she wanted a little girl but was instead stuck with a boy.

Things got worse when she left my dad. He took everything out on me. He was drunk every day of his life. And I was beaten every day of mine.

By the time I hit my teen years, I was completely filled with rage. I didn't know how to deal with it, so I did what many people in my situation end up doing. I would pick fights at school and bullied younger, smaller kids. This would result in my getting sent to the principal's office many times over. This brought about more beatings, of course. And I would grow even angrier. But there wasn't much I could do about it, except to bully some more. It was a vicious circle.

My dad died in a drunken car accident soon after I turned eighteen. I was finally free.

But not for very long.

After my dad was killed, I was glad to live on my own. Omaha suddenly became more peaceful to me. Quiet. I could do as I pleased. However, I only had about two years of freedom before sheer hell came on me slow and easy.

I met the woman I would marry. Her name was Debra. I met her one evening at the bowling alley where I worked. I can't believe how quickly I fell for her. She was beautiful. She had long, dark hair. Her ivory complexion accentuated her big, pale blue eyes. She was slender, but had curves in all the right places. She was the most sweet, and loving girl I'd ever met.

Debra just seemed like a dream. I thought I'd found the one woman who would show me that not all females were like my mother; selfish and manipulative. Instead, I had married a girl who was as manipulative as they come.

Soon after our wedding, her true colors came through. She cheated on me, and wanted to control everything. The money, the house, what cars we bought...everything. She was verbally abusive for the first several years of our marriage. And when she saw she could get away with it, she became physically abusive as well. She started out just slapping me. But then she graduated to punches and throwing hard objects at me. I wanted to hit her. I really did. But I knew I'd end up in jail, because who would believe such a beautiful, angelic-looking woman was abusing me? I wasn't going to end up in prison because of her.

Looking back, I should have just left her. But I didn't. I put up with her for five years. Why? I honestly don't know. I wish I did.

All I do know is I had a new rage building up in me. And I couldn't bully kids to soothe it away anymore. So, I found another way of unleashing my rage. I began preying on stray animals, and lost pets. I would collect them, take them out to the woods behind my house and torture them. It felt good to make something feel the pain and anguish I felt nearly every day of my life. The little creatures had it easy though. Their torture and pain only lasted minutes. I was enduring a lifetime of it. Soon, I ran out of victims. It seemed as though I had cleaned the neighborhood of strays, and caused the owners of their lost, beloved pets to lose hope. I even put the animal patrol officer out of business for the summer.

One night, I'd finally had enough. We were arguing about money, as usual, when she let loose and kicked me in the balls. I fell to the floor gagging in misery. I took the abuse as I always did, but in my head I was already planning.

I was going to kill my wife.

Over the next month, I added enough cash to my secret savings to get fake IDs, a used car under my new name, hair dye, and anything else I needed to make a clean get-away. I just needed to figure out how I would kill her. It had to be flawless.

I went out to the garage to think up the rest of my plan. I knew the time of my retribution was very near, and it seemed to ignite my fury. I was so angry just thinking over my sham of a marriage. I knew I wanted to do the most painful thing I could to Debra.

My eyes fell on some rope and picked it up, planning to tie her up with it. As my hand latched onto it, however, a roll of barbed wire tumbled to the cement, and I froze.

Barbed wire—even better.

I picked the spool up instead and realized then that I would have to work fast in order to tie Debra up. I figured, what with being bigger and stronger than she was, it shouldn't be difficult to accomplish. I smiled when I imagined the look on her face when she saw what I had in store for her. I had just finished polishing up the plans in my mind when I heard Debra's voice behind me.

"Dinner is read—Hey, what are you doing with that barbed—"

SMACK.

I spun around, slapping her right across the mouth. She fell to the concrete almost silently, too stunned to react. She just lay there sobbing quietly and holding her mouth. Then she seemed to get control of her pain and fear, and glared up at me.

"Never thought I'd hit you, huh," I taunted her. I moved fast and had the razor-sharp wire around her wrists in mere seconds. Reaching upward, I grabbed some wire cutters from a worktable, and trimmed it. She whimpered then as I pulled her to her feet, dragging her into the house through the kitchen.

I grabbed a knife off of the tiled counter top. Then I pushed Debra down to the floor. I could see by the trembling of her body, she was too frightened to run.

"Don't speak," I whispered to her. "Or I'll kill you slowly. I never want to hear your obnoxious, evil voice again. Am I clear? Nod if you understand."

A mixture of fire and fury shown in her gray eyes and she glared disdainfully at me. "You're not man enough to kill me," she growled at me as a small stream of blood dribbled out the corner of her mouth. She tried to free herself from the barbed wire, but discovered it was far too painful to struggle with.

"Oh, I am," I smiled at her. "Trust me. And I told you not to speak."

Fear replaced her fury once more as realization crossed her pretty features.

She cowered in the corner, and was unable to force down the sob that erupted from her lips. I stepped over to her and didn't hesitate in slashing up her face. She cried out and put her hands up to protect herself, which didn't stop me. It just angered me even more. I drove the knife right through one of her hands and twisted it. The sound emitting from her was like nothing on this earth. Finally feeling a little bit of relief I grinned.

"That hurts, huh?"

I then slit her throat deliberately slowly with the knife. But before she was able to die, I then, inch by excruciating inch, pressed the knife into her stomach and ripped it upward, savoring the sound of her flesh tearing and her crimson blood splashing onto the floor.

Finally I was free. I could start over.

Quickly, I washed off the knife and took it upstairs with me where my bag had been packed and hidden in the back of the closet. I shoved the murder weapon into the bag to dispose of later. I wanted to get the thing as far from the crime scene as possible.

Changing into a clean pair of jeans and black polo shirt, I tossed my dirty clothes into the bag to discard at another time and place as well. Looking around one last time, I hurried out the back door and headed into the woods. I'd parked my secret car about a mile from the house.

In about twenty minutes I'd be out of here for good. I felt a huge smile spread across my face as I thought of how well my plan had worked so far. I hoped the cops would assume I'd been taken somewhere and killed. Turning into a cold case would be perfect.

When I reached the vehicle, I tossed my bag in the trunk and got in the car. I grabbed the map I'd stashed in the glove compartment and plotted out a route to Albany, New York.

Why Albany?

I'd never been to Albany before. Never mentioned the place in my life. And I needed to be random in choosing my destination just in case the authorities were on my tail. I also planned on being frugal with my funds for a while. If I was discovered, I needed to be prepared. I wanted to be able to get up and leave in a moment's notice if I needed to. But I wasn't complaining. I was finally free. I was going to live life to the fullest.

And I did for a while.

Until my pesky little need to inflict pain on the female population returned, that is.

About a year had passed since I killed my wife. I was beginning to feel angry again—irrationally angry. The wrath I thought I'd finally buried, still consumed me. It had always been there, just under the surface. I needed to find yet another way to deal with it. I wanted to punish my wife all over again. But, of course, I couldn't because she was dead—long dead.

Nonetheless, the idea of retribution soaked up my every thought, and I was desperate to do something about it. I had an epiphany then, it all become so clear in my mind.

What difference did it make if I took my revenge out on my wife, or just women in general? Women were all the same anyway! They all deserved the torture I so utterly wanted to bestow on them.

I came up with a plan one night when I was flipping channels on my television and came across a wrestling program. I watched as two scantily clad women scuffled and frolicked around in the ring, completely for the men's benefit. I was repulsed as their breasts all but fell out of their tops.

And then it hit me—this was it!

I wanted to hurt any promiscuous, strong-willed woman and make them pay, because that's what I hated in my wife. Women had to always rely on a man to take care of them but yet treated them like dirt. They were manipulative horrible creatures, and they had to pay for it.

As I watched the two female wrestlers, I realized they were truly no better than Debra. Or even my mother. Their beauty was only on the outside, and they used their looks ruthlessly. They were doing nothing for society, unlike what I planned to do for the world. I would dedicate my life to ridding the world of their filth.

One whore at a time.

And what better place to start than in the wrestling industry? There were plenty of trashy women to slaughter.

I just had to find my way in...

And I did. I learned everything I could about the wrestling business. Then I entered into a school and learned to wrestle and how to referee. I even covered all my bases and worked with ring crews to set up wrestling rings and stages in arenas.

Thanks to all my training and preparations, I soon met my next victim—a young blond student wrestler. She wanted to sleep with me one night, so I obliged her. Right before I slashed her throat. I discovered sex was another way to dominate women. They had NO control over what I did to them. But I discovered one little problem.

You see, part of me wanted to rid the world of filth—and I still do. But I have to take care of my own needs first.

I find the idea of reenacting the killing of my wife to be very therapeutic. But if I want to feel as though I am indeed killing her again—over and over— I need women who resembles her physically as well as in her actions.

I need dark-haired women.

Blondes and redheads are not going to work.

At least they won't for now. Their time will come though.

I have my eye on the perfect girl right now. She is the spitting image of my burden. But I need to experiment with my craft first.

This is my art.

And art takes practice...

If you want on my tag list, just ask! 🙂

Tagging:

@oreillystolemyheart @lookalivesunshine-x @shortyiceheart @vebner37 @claymorexpunisher

@kalliravenne @swamptrashwithasideofsass @beardedbarba @emisrose @sassymox

@pikapuff-316 @heavymetalgirl420 @bigpsychicbagelauthor @darktammy @waywardwrestlewritingwaif

@sultryfandoms @blondekel77 @demonqueen29 @amariemoore @letsgivethisonemoreshot

@thelastemzy @springgirlwaiting4fall @vampirepixi @wwenhlimagines @louisianalady

@swthrt890 @librathepheonix13 @ironshamelessyouth @moonwolfdemonprincess21 @moxkindagirl

@jstarr86 @oliviasinematic @southerngirl41 @claymoresofinfamy23 @faythewilsonnn

@donttellnoliebabygirl @keisha-knell

#Dean Ambrose #Dean Ambrose Fan Fiction #Dean Ambrose Imagine #Dean Ambrose X OC #Dean Ambrose Fan Fic

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heroes-in-the-dark · 2 years

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I have to talk about chapter 370

I don't do these very often, but this chapter was REALLY important to me because it revealed a lot of little details that I've been looking for in this series for a long time. Mostly in regards to my writing, but also just in general.

For starters, THIS is where they were keeping Kurogiru?! We've seen Central Hospital before, but I've only ever associated it with the treatment of top heroes and important individuals, like after the war. I headcanoned through my fic that they had basement levels for treating and dealing with villains, so I'm intrigued to see some truth to it! No mention of Mr. Compress, though... they had to have treated his injuries from the war somewhere. Could it have been here too? And then afterwards he was transferred to a prison?

Honestly, it makes sense that they've bolstered their ranks. A lot of members of the MLA seemed like ordinary civilians in the first place. It's a little detail, but seeing the CRC heads on stakes really sticks out to me. I thought that insidious group might never be mentioned again after the League dealt with them. I'm guessing that, even being a less popular group these days, this newly unified legion of mutants could still find pockets where they were still active. Perhaps after this stand, the CRC will be extinguished altogether. But as this chapter points out, the on-going threat of discrimatory acts against mutant-types is still very pervasive.

I wrote about this guy a little bit! Wish we'd gotten a name (and pronouns tbh) but I'm glad to see them taking up a role in all this. I was curious about them before! They were a supervisor for the Brown Regiment; I bet they're already quite used to assisting Spinner in leadership. Speaking of Spinner...

I... I don't exactly have the words. I LOVE Spinner. He always struck me as someone who was sweet but tenacious, and I valued him for that. When we first saw him different like this, I thought he'd been using Trigger or some other quirk-enhancing drug. But now we know that ALL FOR ONE GAVE HIM ANOTHER QUIRK.

I am LIVID at AfO. Like, I've detested him for a while now, just because of what he did to Shigaraki and Touya, but that man seems dead-set on dealing out as much damage to each member of the League as he can. After Spinner was so loyal to the League and Shigaraki especially, it just feels like a slap in the face that he'd end up this way. I don't think Spinner knew what he was signing up for when he took this new quirk. AfO is incredibly manipulative. He won't care what happens to Spinner. I know the multiple quirks CAN be done with people, but depending on how demanding the quirk is, they don't mesh well!! That stuff is usually for nomu, and the specifically altered bodies that allow them to hold these different abilities. I can see the strain of the quirk really pushing Spinner's limits. I want him to get out of this okay...

And then! Shouji's face!!! We finally get to see it outside of his concept sketches! I, uh, don't remember his og design having those scars, though. Makes me wonder how he got them... we really haven't ever seen him without the mask. Ever. Not in his dorm or changing room or anything. But I want to assume that some students have seen under his mask, since he wears it so that he doesn't scare or intimidate the people around him.

I bet Tokoyami has seen his face. I'm sure there's very certain circumstances in which Shouji feels comfortable showing people what he looks like. I mean, anyone can tell at a glance that he's a mutant type quirk user, but the presence of the mask has always seemed like a comfort thing for someone who's already very aware of how they look to others. If other characters with mutant traits are any indication, then he's had it hard based on his appearance before.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha manga spoilers #bnha 370 #mha #my hero academia #kurogiri #paranormal liberation front #league of villains #spinner #shuichi iguchi #shouji mezou #fumikage tokoyami

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dominimoonbeam · 8 months

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Don't Run - 12

This work is mine and I do not give consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted without my permission. I am sharing chapters as I work on this story but it is copyrighted material that I plan to rework and publish when completed.

you can find the series from the start over on patreon.

story tags: mobsters, romance, explicit sex, explicit language, learning to trust, dark themes, bad childhood, arranged marriage, reference to past murder, kidnapping, danger, violence, guns

DON’T RUN - CHAPTER TWELVE.

The owl delivered Freya to the charity brunch.

It was definitely a party, whatever they wanted to call it. Although it was the worst, most pastel, party Freya had ever been to.

She was dressed like Alice in Wonderland going to a sorority mixer. She’d been handed a flute of orange juice and vodka, like if they dressed it up in delicate glass it wouldn’t still be a screwdriver.

That was pretty much how she felt.

Her outfit was similar to everyone else’s. For the first time since she got to Everton she fit in with the room, but somehow that made it feel like she stuck out even more. The women of Everton watched her with tight smiles.

Rebecca Ellis, Adi’s mother, greeted her like they were friends…or maybe associates. She was a frightening woman, clearly adept at her role as Harmon Ellis’s ex wife and the mother to his heir. She showed Freya around, introducing her to everyone like this was entirely normal. And everyone played along, smiling and exchanging the same assortment of niceties.

Freya was starting to miss home. At least people said what they meant.

She put down her screwdriver before she could be tempted to toss it back.

Stephanie Ellis, Harmon’s current wife and the mother to several of his children including Grayson, arrived late.

Freya would not have known she was late if she hadn’t overheard the exchange of sharp irritation between Rebecca and one of her friends. There was a clear divide in the social group between Rebecca and Stephanie, each of their daughters siding with their mothers, exchanging almost apologetic glances with one another across the battlefield of satin tablecloths and croissants no one was actually eating.

Freya did not miss how neither of the daughters would look at her. She could pretend they were preoccupied or disinterested but considering how most of the other women there stared at her like a wolf in a skirt, she had to think it was taking some effort on their part to pretend she didn’t exist.

The last time Freya had seen the Ellis family together, the two mothers had exploded into full soap opera antics. She couldn’t help but wonder when one of them would slap the other at this party. How long could they circle the same room, pretending not to notice one another? How long before their rage thawed that ice and someone threw hands?

When Freya was left to her on her own, at sea in that storm of pastel and closely guarded rage, she wasn’t sure what to do with herself. She missed her owl, glancing around like maybe she’d spot the assistant somewhere along the sidelines of the event hall. She did not.

“There you are,” a shrill but smiling voice cut in as a leggy woman in stacked heels came up to Freya. They had been introduced earlier. Sandra? She was nursing her flute of spiked orange juice and flanked by two more women. “You need friends,” Sandra told her.

Freya was somehow short even in her heels in front of this woman. She smiled back, clearly Sandra was the boss and there was no reason to address the other two. “There’s something about the way you say that word that feels like maybe you don’t know what it means…”

Sandra’s smile twitched over teeth and her nails, the same barely-pink Wells had picked for Freya, pressed into her own arm. “Listen, we’re trying to be nice. You can either make this easy, or we can wreck you.” She gave a little shrug at the end, like she was a magnanimous queen.

Freya bit the inside of her cheek to keep from grinning. She forced her eyes down, the way she might with her aunt. These people had no idea. No one in this city had any fucking idea who she was or what she could do. That was fine. That was good.

“We can help you,” Sandra offered again.

“Okay,” Freya said meekly.

Sandra gave a little excited squeal and snagged Freya’s arm. “Come sit with us!” she said cheerfully, making sure others overheard. She exchanged a quick smile with Rebecca from across the room.

Freya wondered if she was doing a favor for the other woman or hoping to get in good with her by looking out for her wayward daughter-in-law.

She let herself be pulled to a table and told where to sit, carefully tucking her dress in under herself when she did, straight-backed and doe-eyed. She was reintroduced to the sidekicks, Amanda and Julie.

Sandra proceeded to give her the rundown on life in Everton. She was told where to eat and where not to—who to talk to and who to avoid. Every insight was bookended with insults. How Freya was too backwoods to know better. How she would need so much help. How lucky she was that they were willing to be seen with her despite everyone knowing where she’d come from and how she’d weaseled into the Ellis family.

“So lucky,” breathed one of the sidekicks.

Sandra shot her a glare. “Really, Amanda?”

Amanda shrugged, pouting. “It’s not like she’s the first one to try to get Adi down the aisle.”

Oh, Amanda had a little bite in her. She was hiding it behind a façade of stupid, but Freya suspected she was far from it.

Sandra’s eyes flared and Freya got the idea that if they weren’t trying to present a united front to intimidate her, they would have turned on each other. Maybe these two would be the ones that started slapping each other today.

Sandra flashed a sudden and brutal smile. “I guess that’s fair. I mean, everyone’s slept with Adi.” She turned her gaze back on Freya. “Right?”

Freya made a quick decision. She wilted, looking away and trying to bring tears to her eyes. It wasn’t easy.

Sandra laughed. “Oh my gosh, you’re kidding me! He must be really mad about being forced to marry you if he won’t even sleep with you…”

Amanda sipped her drink and pretended not to understand while Julie on the other side continued to watch like a phantom. “It’s not like he and Ezra have broken up,” Amanda reminded.

Sandra waved a hand. “They’ve never been an exclusive thing.”

“Who is,” Julie chimed in.

Sandra scoffed. “Just because your husband fucks around doesn’t mean you’re in an open relationship, Jules.”

Julie turned red but pressed her pink mouth shut.

Maybe they wouldn’t be slapping each other any time soon after all.

Freya glanced away, looking at the room of people while the trio devolved into conversation about a recent dinner party gone bad.

She spotted the Ellis sisters conversing at one of the banquette style tables, each holding a tiny plate of fruit. Victoria was doing most of the talking and Rosy looked like she was getting angrier and angrier with every word exchanged. At first Freya thought the two were fighting. It would make sense considering the animosity between their mothers, only that wasn’t right. That wasn’t what their body language said at all. They were almost shoulder to shoulder, Rosy’s head tipped in to listen to every word Victoria spat.

Rosy looked a lot like her mother, small and sharp, while Victoria had more of the Ellis look, tall and intimidating.

Sandra was saying something to Freya, or about Freya, either way she definitely wanted Freya to react to it.

But just then Rosy’s gaze snapped across the room and met Freya’s.

Freya was too late to look away.

That petite socialite pushed her little plate of fruit into her sister’s waiting hand and set off across the room toward her.

Freya could almost feel Victoria grinning but couldn’t quite take her eyes off of the approaching Ellis daughter to confirm it.

Rosy was all of five foot three, slender as a reed and dressed in a narrow marron dress. She was dark in a room of pastel but somehow not at all out of place. Probably because she had grown up in rooms like this one.

Sandra was getting annoyed with Freya, about to hiss something when she too noticed the advancing woman. Her whole demeanor changed, suddenly bright and passive as she swiveled toward her. “Rosy! Your mother did such a wonderful—”

Rosy didn’t look at Sandra. She came to a stop in front of Freya. “You shouldn’t have come here.”

Freya blinked, torn between the persona she’d been playing for Sandra and the girls and this storm of a woman. “I was invited,” she said simply. She hadn’t really known she’d had the option to decline.

Rosy huffed an unamused laugh. “Yeah, just like you were invited to Everton. You’re a problem, Morgan. A spy.”

The other women at the table leaned back, like they’d just heard she had cooties.

“You don’t see Molly sitting here, do you? Because she knows her place.”

Freya’s mind raced, thinking about Grayson’s Molly. She was pretty damn sure Molly did know her place, but that it wasn’t what kept her from attending these get-togethers. And if Molly had shown up, in ripped jeans and a leather jacket, Freya would be hard pressed to imagine even this spitfire of a princess stepping up to her like this. “I’m supposed to be an Ellis now,” Freya tried, wading blindly through the waters of this conversation.

Rosy moved fast. Faster than Freya would ever have expected. Her palm cracked against Freya’s cheek, whipping her head to the side and leaving a ringing in her ear and a fury in her heart.

Every slap of her life echoed off that latest, ringing through her skull.

The quiet that followed that slap was cavernous, all eyes suddenly fixed on them.

Freya stood up automatically, her cheek burning and her eyes stinging. It was the shock that steadied her though. She hadn’t expected it. One of the mothers maybe, but not this fragile looking girl.

Rebecca was there in a flash, arms around her daughter, cooing as if she had been the one injured. “Are you okay?” she fussed.

Freya flattened her palms to her dress, pressing her thighs through the fabric. The whole room was still watching, their fingers to their lips to hide their smiles.

“I think you should go,” Rebecca said, practically pointing Freya toward the door. “You’ve caused enough of a scene for one day.”

Freya bit her lip so hard it bled. She dropped her head in mock shame and then turned and fled the room, trying to do her best Disney Princess imitation.

She stopped when she was out of the banquet hall and in the wide corridor, letting everything catch up to her. She had to cough to keep from laughing. They were insane. It was dizzying. She rubbed her cheek. It really hurt. She supposed the party had ended in a slap, at least for her. She just hadn’t expected her cheek to be the one on offer.

All and all, it wasn’t the worst first step with that crowd. They had invited her to get a look and to humiliate her. What would they do next time?

Her hand still to her throbbing face, she turned toward the exit.

Victoria was waiting, that malicious little smirk tucked into the corner of her mouth. It was a family smirk. Freya had definitely seen it on Adi and Grayson.

She poured her screwdriver down the front of Freya’s dress, making her gasp at the sudden wash of cold. It was shocking after the burn of the slap. Still, Freya heaved a thin laugh, looking down at the mess making a bib of dark blue down the front of her bodice, dripping onto her shoes. “Joke’s on you, Vic. I didn’t even like this dress,” she whispered.

It had been Victoria that wound up her sister and set her off. How often did she do things like that? Who else could she wield in the family?

“It’s only going to get worse. Save yourself the trouble and make a run for it,” Victoria said, holding her glass like she’d just finished it rather than poured it on someone. Her gaze never even strayed to the mess. There was no particular anger in her tone, just bored honesty. “If you show up to that wedding party, I will make your life a living hell.”

Freya laughed again, nodding. “Sure.”

Victoria was still standing in her way to the exit, those hard Ellis eyes staring back at her when she looked up. “I’m not joking with you, Morgan. And this isn’t some game where you put up with our hazing and eventually we welcome you into the family. Our parents might be okay risking Adi’s life to broker a deal with your witch of an aunt, but I’m not. I won’t let you stay.”

Freya tried to measure just how far this woman would go.

Did Victoria Ellis have it in her to get rid of an enemy?

Maybe.

Freya nodded, still dripping vodka and juice. “Good to know.”

Victoria didn’t move, but she looked away, a clear dismissal.

Freya bit the inside of her lip and kept her head down to hide any of the malice or amusement in her own eyes. Fucking Ellises…

She walked around her, fighting the urge to shoulder her to the ground. She pushed her way through the exit and down another hall, toward the sound of the establishment’s public restaurant.

She spotted Wells just in time to see the shock and horror flicker across that owlish face before the assistant could school her features and set her jaw. She fell in at Freya’s side, fishing around in her bag and producing a handkerchief.

Freya laughed, nudging it away when the other woman started to dab at her chest. “I think the dress is ruined, Wells. Let it die in peace.”

Wells looked honestly aggrieved. “What happened?” she asked in a whisper.

“Well, I didn’t spill it on myself.” Freya walked past her with an aim for the big glass doors. She measured her steps, refusing to run, her chin getting higher and higher the farther she got from pretending to be frightened of those women.

She knew she was getting looks, but she didn’t look back. So much for fitting in.

The doors spun and she dragged a breath when she was on the sidewalk, traffic sounds echoing up and down the street.

“I’ll have the car here in a second,” Wells was saying, head down to look at her phone.

Freya blinked against the sunlight and then met the gaze of a stranger. He was staring right at her, not gawking or looking at the state of her, but waiting for her eyes to lock with his. He had a black mask over his nose and mouth, one of those medical ones they’d all been wearing a few years back. Plenty of people still wore them, especially if they were coming down with something, but, somehow, Freya doubted that was why this particular man wore one. Something in his eyes felt like he was smiling and not in a friendly way. But she didn’t recognize him. Plain clothes, boots and jeans and gloves.

“Owl,” Freya began, a sharp tingle of nerves slicing up her spine.

“The driver is on his way. He’s in the parking garage so it’ll only—”

Someone from the other side shoved Wells back a step, away from Freya.

“Hey, watch it!” Freya snapped, tearing her gaze off the one stranger to push an arm out at the other. She would have shoved him away from her assistant, if he weren’t already latching onto her arm and jerking her toward him. The barrel of a gun pushed up against her ribs. He had a mask on too.

“Are you fucking kidding m—” she started before he half-pulled and half-pushed her to the side, toward the street. For a second, she thought he was going to throw her into traffic before the door of a car opened and someone else palmed the back of her head, folding her into the backseat.

It was the middle of the day!

She caught a glimpse of the owl’s startled face on the sidewalk just before the car door snapped shut. The guy with the gun jumped into the front seat, pushing the gun in her face again, while the other guy got on the other side of the backseat. The windows were tinted and honks rang out when the car sped away, cutting off others and running a light.

Freya leaned back into the leather seat. The car smelled new. She looked down at herself, at her wet and stained pastel dress, and realized she’d lost a heel when he pushed her into the car. She watched the buildings race by outside.

She had been abducted, and she couldn’t tell if she felt amused, scared, or relieved.

#don't run #mobster romance #adi/ezra/freya #honest liars series #soap opera #own work #own characters #<3 #clover down #dominimoonbeam #romance #it's complicated

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peakyoak · 2 years

Text

This Dark Disposition: Chapter 11 - Mistress

Chapter 11 - Mistress

TW - Physical Violence

Thursday

When Danielle first arrived in Small Heath, she feared walking alone through the streets at night, and for good reason, too. Almost always there would be some man, or even a group of men, stumbling drunk through the streets. And if not a drunk man, there were other people with more heinous intentions, wandering about.

But now, a month after her arrival, Danielle noticed that not all, but some of the people of Small Heath started to react abnormally when she passed by. Some stared at her, while maintaining a safe distance, others tipped their hats to her as they cleared a path for her to pass, and mothers crossed the street with their children. Danielle wondered if the people of Small Heath were beginning to associate Miss Virtue with the Peaky Blinders.

Danielle made her bed. She was still reeling from the drama of yesterday. Though she may disagree with Tommy and his ways of making people cooperate, and though she could not be one to speak of Ada's predicament when she herself had entered an arranged relationship with a man who could not decide how he felt about her, Danielle agreed that the best solution would be if Freddie were to marry Ada.

Getting dressed, Danielle slipped on her gray overskirt. As she paused to look at herself in the mirror, Danielle couldn't believe how bruised her arm was from the Inspector's visit to the church. She decided that something was seriously off about that man. She pulled a black blouse with buttons over her head and tucked it into her skirt. Then she grabbed the gray jacket that matched the skirt and walked through her front door.

That was when 3 bluejacket coppers came around the alleyway corner. Danielle went to reopen the door, when a 4th man put his arm between Danielle and the open angle of the door,

"Miss Virtue, we are long overdue for a discussion," it wasn't just any cop.

Danielle turned to face him, "you know inspector, there are other ways to go about having a conversation that do not involve making someone late for work."

"Being late for work should be the least of your concerns," Campbell said, as the three other coppers approached. Danielle ducked under the inspector's arm trying to run away. One of the bluejackets stepped in front of her and she ran into him. She punched him and he stumbled back. The man quickly recovered and the bluejacket put one arm around her stomach and another over her mouth.

That was a bad move on his part, Danielle thought as she bit down as hard as she could on the man's hand, "fucking bitch!" he yelled and released her. Danielle turned to run and another Bluejacket landed a punch squarely on Danielle cheek bone. She fell to the ground, unable to determine if the blood she was tasting was her own, or if it was the copper's.

Without saying a word, two bluejackets grabbed onto her arms and dragged her into the ally along the side of the flat. Danielle could see the remaining copper, the one she bit, reeling in the street, holding his bloody hand. Danielle smiled to herself, proud of her work.

"Miss Virtue, what do you know about my Holy Grail?" The inspector asked, Danielle stared at the cobbles.

"What makes you think I know anything," Danielle said, the two men holding her arms firmly against the brick wall.

"While you're Tommy's whore aren't you," Danielle knew he didn't know of the agreement. He must've thought they were sleeping together after seeing Tommy leave the flat, "You associate with the Devil himself, now it's time to accept the consequences of your actions," the copper said.

Danielle raised her gaze to look directly at Campbell, "I don't know anything about your Holy Grail," she repeated, and he grabbed onto her jaw extremely tight to ensure she wouldn't look away from him.

"Where are the guns, Miss Virtue? And don't you think the irony of your name is lost on me, sharing a bed with the likes of Thomas Shelby" Danielle rolled her eyes, Campbell slapped the same cheek that the copper punched.

"Like I said," Danielle spit would blood remained in her mouth out onto the cobbles, "I know nothing, and if you're not careful, Inspector Campbell, the people of Small Heath are going to see you beating a woman out on the street," Danielle motioned to the horrified women and her children who were stood across the street who, upon seeing what was happening, quickly walked away, "not a very good look for the man whose job it is to clean up this city, is it?"

The inspector took a step away, he motioned for the bluejackets to let her go, "Don't think this conversation won't be continued, Miss Virtue," and with that, the men got back in their vehicle and left. Danielle looked down at the blood on her new gray jacket.

The Gambling Den

An hour later Danielle sat at the table, Polly passed her a lit cigarette. With shaking hands she brought it to her lips and inhaled. Polly called for Arthur, then closed the door that connected to the den. "I'm sorry Polly, I didn't know where else to go, I can't stitch up my own cheek" Danielle said, tears filling her eyes.

Arthur looked at her, and then took off his cap, "Angel, what happened?"

"The inspector, who else do you think," Polly said, as she wet some cloths with water.

"I didn't tell him anything I swear, I have nothing to tell," Danielle said, as she reached for the glass of whiskey Polly had poured for her.

Arthur saw her bruised knuckles and knew she must've landed a fist on one of them, "I'm really sorry, Danielle," he said, and his focus shifted to Polly, "what kind of animal attacks a woman in broad daylight?" he asked Polly, who didn't reply to Arthur and continued to work on Danielle's cheek.

"Let's get some ice on those bruises quickly," Polly said.

John sauntered through the doors that connected to the den and sat at the table, when he saw Danielle who had clearly been beaten. He immediately stood up and grabbed his cap, "Where to brother," he said, ready to fight whoever had done this to her.

"It was Campbell, Johnboy," Arthur said in a sullen voice.

"What the fuck would he want with our barmaid," John said, angrier now.

Polly glanced up at John to quit asking questions, and then she finished working on Danielle's cheek, "There, it looks like the glue will hold, luckily it shouldn't scar," she stood from her chair, "Isaiah, please walk Miss Virtue home, and stay outside until Tommy gets there,"

John and Arthur looked at Pol, realizing what she said.

"Are you going to be okay, Miss Virtue?" Finn said, coming down the stairs and around on table,

"Ay, Finn," she ruffled his hair, "It's just a scratch."

Polly stood and walked over to Arthur, while Isaiah and Danielle walked out, "Find Tommy immediately."

Tommy

Arthur approached him in the Garrison, "Tommy, Pol needs to speak to you," he shifted his eyes around nervously, "it's bad, but it could've been so much worse, Tom." Arthur said, clearing his throat.

Tommy walked to the betting den and poured himself a drink, Polly walked in and set her hat on the table, "So Monaghan boy finally lost," She said in a sullen tone.

"Third time unlucky," Tommy replied, "We took money from all over the city."

"Ya, but you'll pay it back to people around here. Buy your popularity back."

"Already done."

"I taught you well," she sat in the chair across from him, "You fixed this race without the permission of Billy Kimber."

"Ya," Tommy replied.

Polly grabbed his whiskey glass and threw it against the wall, "Obviously, didn't teach you well enough," She yelled, "Rule one, don't punch above your weight," Tommy raised his eyebrow at her as if he was ready to start a fight, "Rule two, you cover your bloody tracks when you sleep with a girl, Tommy."

"What are you talking about Pol," Tommy said.

"Danielle had a surprise visit from the inspector outside her home today," Tommy immediately stood from his chair, "while you were busy fixing that bloody race he ambushed her. She'll be alright, Tommy, but she's shaken. When we were in the church, the inspector said you were seen leaving her flat one morning. He knows she's a weakness."

"She's not a weakness, Pol," Tommy said as he lit a cigarette and began walking towards the door.

"If she's not a weakness, Tom, then what the hell is she? Half of Small Heath knows something is going on between you, including the Inspector and now your brothers," Tommy slammed the door on his way out.

Anyone have any ideas for a face claim for what Danielle looks like? In my mind she has long light brown hair, sharp facial features, and is more curvy and strong than thin and light.

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x oc

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saiacross · 9 months

Text

Bonds Unveiled

Supernatural FanFic : 526 Words : First Work : OC

Bonus Chapter 1 (After Chapter 2) OR Stand Alone One Shot

Oh Cas…

Having returned to town; before heading to their motel and Castiel heading off in his own direction again; the group settled into the local bar for a drink and food. Sam and Dean sat next to each other then Cass and Saia. It was dark and loud as several people were occupying the 3 billiards tables at the far end.

“A Kitsune?” Castiel pauses for a moment to gather his thoughts, his eyes narrowed as he looked at her. Saia thought it best to tell him seeing as Dean and Sam knew as well. She trusted him. “I see. That explains some of the abilities you've displayed. But there's much I still don't understand. Kitsunes are a rarity in the supernatural world. May I ask you some questions to gain a better understanding?”

“Of course, Castiel. Ask me anything you want. I'll do my best to answer.” Saia nodded, appreciating Castiel's desire for knowledge and understanding.

“First, can you transform into a fox? And if so, what does it feel like?”

“Yes, I can shift into my fox form. It's a natural ability for Kitsunes. When I transform, it's like a rush of energy flowing through me. My body changes, my senses sharpen, and I feel more connected to my primal instincts. It's an exhilarating experience.” Saia would explain.

“Fascinating,and do Kitsunes have any peculiar mating rituals or behaviors?” Castiel would ask with a straight face and serious tone in his voice.

Hearing Castiel’s question caused Sam to almost choke on his swig of beer he was in the process of taking. After clearing his throat he shared glance with Dean who was chuckling to himself, amused and curious to see how Saia would respond. Sam slapped Dean arm with a look that said “Really?” Dean just shrugged his shoulders.

Saia's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and she just stared back at Cass with a shocked expression, momentarily at a loss for words. Sam and Dean tried to suppress their laughter, knowing how awkward the question was.

“Uh, well, um…” Saia began to speak, though still trying to find the right words. “Kitsunes do have their own customs and traditions, but they vary among different regions and legends. Some stories talk about certain rituals associated with courtship, but, uh, it's not something I've personally experienced or have extensive knowledge about.”

“I see.” Castiel replied, taking in the information. “I sense I might have made you uncomfortable with my question, I apologize if it was inappropriate.”

Saia managed a small smile, appreciating Castiel's understanding and knowing that that was just how he was. Honestly she walked right into that one.

“Oh, come on, Cas. You're making Saia blush!” Dean, unable to contain himself any longer, burst into laughter, while Sam chuckled beside him.

Castiel looked confusedly to Dean and Sam who were laughing then back to Saia. “My apologies, Saia. I sometimes forget to consider the boundaries of personal inquiries. I assure you, it was not my intention to embarrass you.”

The tension eased, and the group shared a lighthearted moment, understanding that even angels could stumble upon socially awkward questions.

End Chapter

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idiotic21 · 2 years

Text

Mr and Mrs Hamato

Chapter 1 - Denial

Previous All Stories

Timestamp - 2 years after Shredder's defeat, 6 months after the Krangg were defeated

youtube

"So..let me get this straight,"

Casey Jr facepalmed himself, once again being held by the custody of his friend/future uncle. Casey pinched his forehead together and waited for the turtle to continue.

"I, have a 'w-wife', in the future?"

"Yes, for the thousand time yes,"

"Thousandth, time. With 'th', kay," Donnie pointed out, ".. and also, me, a wife?"

Casey tiredly nodded.

"My genius bad boy image.... didn't do a thing?" the genius rambles further, tensing himself up.

"Pfft... for one, I believe in Leon Jr, and I think your bad boy image would crack under the pressure of a beautiful damsel in distress, Don Tron"

Donnie slammed his head in his hands. Leo now had the upper hand with new teasing material to mess with his twin. "For the record, Leon... his name is Casey. The spawn of our very own Cassandra Jones. Second, I WILL NOT have my bad-boy image get spalt in twain by some... some-"

"-Beautiful queen?"

As if the genius' day couldn't get any worse, Mikey decided to join in storytime. Raph was leaning against the door of the medbay with a smug look.

"So, Donnie is the one to carry the Hamato name? Looks like Dad will get grandkids after all," Raph entered the room and noogied the younger Hamato twin.

Donnie stomped his foot, face blushing at Raphael's insinuation, "Knock it off, Raph. Technically, I haven't met this, Dianne-"

"AWWWW.... and he already knows her name before even meeting her," Mikey cried out with hearts in his eyes, "Guys, it's a match made in heaven," Leo, Casey, and Raph all nodded in agreement. Leaving Donnie even more flustered, or angered? He couldn't really pinpoint the feeling.

Wait... did he just register an 'un-sure feeling'?

Donnie blinked himself back to the hooligans who dared insinuate such lies! "-AND!, I am a turtle, guys. I don't think we would be even physically compatible with a human. Scientifically speaking. Also, falling in 'love' would require emotional availability which, if you guys do realize, I don't express nor practice much."

Casey just shook his head, reminiscing how the future version of his Uncle Don reacted the same way when a younger Casey asked about his uncle's love life. Future Donnie still kept his bad boy image around.

"Come on, Dee. Just because you're a turtle, doesn't mean you won't find love. Love is a beautiful thing, just ask Doctor Feelings." Donnie slapped a hand on Mickey's mouth, "Silence, sweet Angelo. I know you mean well, but this brother of yours is 100 percent sure that I could live a long and prosperous life without the invasion of space from a 'significant other'."

Donnie thought he had won the argument, but Leo identified the loophole. "Sure, bro. Whatever makes you happy, but you said, and I quote the word, "could", in other words it means you 'could' also find yourself sharing your life with a significant other, eh?"

Leo shot his brows up twice and smirked. "Nardo, that's not how it works.."

"I don't know Dee, Leo does have a point. Right, Casey?" Raph turned to the Jones Jr, who now became the main focus of Donnie's sharp and intimidating eyes.

"Uhh... I think I will leave Master Donatello's love life discussion to you guys," Casey replied shyly and scratched the back of his neck.

The brothers began to squabble again only to meet a high-pitched squeal... or high-pitched squealing.

"Ancestors, are my rat ears deceiving me? Or did I not hear the word 'love-life' being associated with my 'genius cinnamon roll of a son' Purple?"Hamato Yoshi (Splinter a.k.a Lou-Jitsu) struck a pose by the door and then fell dramatically into the waiting hands of April O'Neil. "No, Splints. I think your ears worked just fine," she confirmed and proceeded to unceremoniously drop the rat man to the floor and marched up to Donnie.

On the other note, Donnie was horrified. His father and sister have been officially dragged into his future-wife mess. Could things get any worse? Donnie ground his teeth, seething lost patience.

Shoving her finger up to his face threateningly, she declared with anger, "Have you been holding out on me, D? Are you dating someone? Where'd you meet her? What's her background? Is she involved in the Illuminati?"

"CAN IT APRIL! There is no wife, I said!"

The brothers and Casey were losing their cool, laughing and slapping each other's backs.

The word 'wife' echoed once again. Donnie cringed so bad when he heard the deafening hum of Splinter's 'Lou-Jitsu Love Advice Persona' beaming to life. Think Doctor Feelings, but 10 times amplified. Now you see where Mickey gets it.

"Hmm... Donatello?" all the children in the room (except Donnie) were in awe. The rat man is about to give one of his famous Lou-Jitsu love-tackling advice.

"Yes, Dad?" Donnie replied bluntly.

"Did or did I not hear the word 'wife'?" The room shook. Every atom vibrates at the deep octave of Splinter's advising voice.

Donnie rolled his eyes in annoyance and nodded. Soon, he found Splinter directly in the line of his peripheral vision. Splinter yanked Donnie's shoulder, "Love, is a beautiful thing. When it comes your way, be mindful and do not let go. It creates a part of you that you would never have known to have existed. When you find the one, you will not just know love, but you will live by love."

Everyone in the room had their eyes glistening with tears, mouths pouting and hearts heeding the great wisdom poured by the old man. All except Donnie of course who just maintained his bored and empty, cold and calculated look.

"Sure, Dad"

Suddenly, a gust of wind picked up from behind Splinter, making his grey fur move majestically, swept in glittering *dust*. Donnie could hear the ridiculous awe of the rest of his family. He mentally resisted face-palming himself for who knows how many times that day.

"ALRIGHT! Let's get this over with and-"

"Why are we talking about Donatello and a possible future with a wife?"

"OH MI GOSH, Draxiball you heard it too?!" Mickey jumped into Draxum's hands and began to rant about Donnie's possible love life.

He facepalmed. Donnie finally facepalmed again.

"So, in the future, you will have a wife? Interesting. I didn't know humans would think turtle-human yokai to be .... urhm, attractive?" the baron was intrigued, to say the least. Another variable to add to his growing study of his new... sons.

"You steppin' on Don or sometin', Draxum?" April stepped to him for stepping to Donnie.

Leo gasped in faux hurt, "Draxum, are you implying that we are not handsome and chivalrous turtlemen? I get it if Donnie is less attractive than I am. I am the face man but no doubt we are more than just attractive."

"Yeah, we got Lou-Jitsu blood burnin' in our veins!" Raph dabbed and Michelangelo razzmatazed with Splinter raised on his shoulders.

"For the record, this is just another variable for me to put into the study of human-yokai relations alright." Draxum eye rolled. "On the other hand, you boys do hold human DNA, which might make you compatible with a human being so-"

"HAH! Don, please, eateth thy words" Leo clawed his way up the medical bed to headlock Donnie. The latter had already given up, but his face was red like Raph's mask.

While the rest of the family began to throw around possible ideas of Donnie can find his future wife in the present time, Donnie himself began to think.

'Why in the world would he need love?'

'How needs love with all the mystic tech power he had'

'I'm a genius, I'm married to my work'

Before he entered classic-Donnie overthink, Dee decided to put his foot down. "ENOUGH love talk today!"

His voice rang with finality that all the members of his family knew not to go against. He wasn't mad at them, they knew it, but Donnie's bad-boy persona was crumbling when a specific thought suddenly entered his brain.

He patted Leo's head before yanking himself away, "Dear fam, I am pleased to hear that you are all invested completely in a part of my life that has only a less than 1 percent chance of happening."

"Which is still a high percent chance in Leon's book, but carry on,"

"Wipe the smug off your face Nardo. Anyways, Donnie and love life have no semblance at all because I am a brilliant scientist who is too busy for dumdum things, getting in my way. You are welcome and thank you,"

The room was silent, Leo hating that Donnie decided to deny something that has not happened. Then a loud "BOO! LOSER BOO!" was heard from the corner of the room.

"CASSANDRA?!" "MOM?!"

At the corner of the room, Cassandra Jones sat with an empty bowl of popcorn and a half cup full of soda. "Oh, hey guys.Son. Also, I think the tech whiz just jinxed himself by saying he may never find love. Usually, it's people who reject the insinuation of being in love with someone, who would find love earlier than anticipated."

April nodded gleefully, "I agree. Also, how long have you been there?"

"NO ONE NEEDS TO KNOW!"

The whole group just remained awkward. "Anywho, who want's to watch a Lou-Jitsu marathon? Draxum, you gotta join us this time. You promised,"

The baron sighed, he could never say no to Mickey. "Fine.."

"I will join you guys later. I have some tech to fix. Also, Nardo needs to stay on the drips." Donnie ordered and gave Leo a frightening look, daring his twin to try to retaliate. Leo was still recovering from the injuries he acquired from the fight with the Krang.

Leo gulped and nodded, "Until you give me the clear sign, Dee, I will live by the drips."

Donnie kept his hard look before it finally broke into a gentle smile. The others shuffled out to the hall to watch Lou-Jitsu on the new flat screen tv Donnie built.

---

Hamato Donatello sank into his bed. Sheldon was charging at his corner, displaying a row of 'Z's' to show that he is sleeping. Donny laughed to himself. "Imagine if he was a living and breathing child. The trouble I would have."

"Then again, Splinter would finally have a grandchild. Technically he has one but..." a frown made its way to his face.

"GAH! Why am I suddenly thinking of children?" He began classic Donnie rambling. The turtle began to pace around the room, "I am a turtle for crying out loud. A yokai. Wait, no not a yokai, I AM A MUTANT!"

"Great Gallileo, why did I even have to think that finding love would be a nice change of pace?"

You see, that was the one thought that bugged him earlier. The one thought that stood out from the rest. One that bled in desperate need of longing and comfort. For one second, Donatello was curious about love and the idea of sharing his love with another.

"Damn it!" Donnie released his battle shell and fell face down into his plush bed, groaning.

Everything was quiet for a while until he felt a familiar hand land gently on his soft-shell.

"I thought you were enjoying the movie marathon..." Purple whispered quietly. Splinter chuckled, "I was. I went to get popcorn but when I passed your room I saw my son ranting about his love life."

Donnie peeked out a little to find his dad smiling at him softly. He grew flustered and buried his face deeper into the pillows. "Please don't tell the others about this, Papa."

Splinter frowned a little but agreed. "Can I at least ask you a question, my son?"

The purple turtle was quiet for a while, then he sat up to face Splinter, nodding. "Why are you so disturbed by the fact that you may find love? Do you not want to love someone and have a family of your own in the future?"

"It's, well... it's complicated. I really don't know what to feel," Donnie paused, allowing Splinter to take in the information. "I just... aside from loving my family, you, April, the guys, I don't know if I can love or have the ability to love some random stranger. How can I even think to find love? Look at me! I'm a mutant! A freak of nature"

Splinter grimaced but decided to poke some fun, "So, I am guessing I am one as well,eh?"

"Wha- Dad no I didn't mean it that way."

Splinter chuckled and told his son to calm down, "I'm joking, Purple. I will tell you this. Love is hard to explain, even for someone with my experience."

Donnie listens on quietly. "I didn't think I would learn to love Big Mama, you know. Obviously, I was a handsome young superstar back in the day, and getting the girls was easy, but finding someone to confide in was a challenge. I never knew if I would find someone who would genuinely love me for who I am. Not what I am."

"Didn't Big Mama lure you only to kidnap you as a fighter for the BattleNexus-"

Donnie's logical rambling was cut short by Splinter's finger pushed to his face, "Shus! Your Papa is talking."

"Anyways, what I am trying to say is that loving someone else is not a bad thing. It helps you discover things you never knew about yourself and makes you a greater person in return. It changes you for the better. Yes, Big Mama was a thieving 8-legged, beautiful, cute, smart, cunning, and uh... did I mention beautiful-"

"Dad, stop gushing over your ex, please?"

"Oh, ho ho, yes. Before the kidnapping me days, I had fallen head over heels for her and she forever holds a place in my heart. She is the one for me and will always be. Big Mama, is just... herself. She does have room for sympathy and love in her heart."

Donnie chuckled, watching his father gush about his previous flame. He realized how happy Splinter was that it made him seem to have aged back a few years. "You really loved her, huh?"

Splinter nodded, "And I still do." The father-son duo basked in the comforting silence until Splinter decided to leave Purple to his thoughts. " I will let you think it over, son. If you need love advice, I will spill Lou-Jitsu's Top 5, How To Get The Girl, tips to you."

"Just five?" Donnie grinned.

"Just five. See you later, Donatello."

As Splinter left the room, he saw how contently Sheldon was resting, in a futuristically designed charging port, fitted with a Sheldon-sized movie and gaming console for the young AI turtle to play. He was truly the spoiled brainchild of Donnie.

"If it means anything to you, Purple, I think you are a wonderful father too. My AI grandson seems to be living his life with you as his parental figure," Splinter chuckled as Donnie's face grew red in fluster.

Donnie watched Splinter shuffle to the kitchen and let out a heavy sigh. "Maybe..."

"...nah...but possibly? You know what, I don't have time to think about this."

The purple tech whiz scooped up a blanket and switched off the neon purple lighting of his room. Before leaving for the movie marathon however, he caught the glimpse of Sheldon snoozing away, purring mechanically. A tiny but genuine smile graced his lips and Donnie clapped himself on his shoulder. "I am a great dad,".

---

Little did Donnie know, that in a few day's time, he would meet the love of his life.

The future, Mrs. Hamato. ❤

#rottmnt #rise donatello #rise leo #rise mickey #rise raph #rise of the tmnt #rise of tmnt #tmnt 2018 #Youtube #rottmnt fanfiction

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kipaparappa · 1 year

Text

A lookback

I'm writing this on the christmas eve 2022, dec 24th. The year is going to an end and it has been a pretty chaotic year. It's painful, dramatic, but I get to reflect a lot of what happen, recapping all the episodes coming by throughout the year and understanding the better of them. Even at this very moment, I am still in the process of making everything make sense to my small mind.

A big portion of this year I spent while contemplating whether I should be quitting my position at salt or not. The reason is simple; I want--so badly-- to quit is because I was too ashamed. Too ashamed of what happened between me and the senior designer, I was exposed. But the most shocking part is, my insecurities was being validated. And there's nothing more humiliating than when your critique becoming real. Despite all that, He did not do anything wrong. I was just not ready enough to be exposed to my own reality. And of course, it took a toll in my self esteem. Even to the very moment I'm writing this post, I am still greatly affected, still struggling to get myself out of the loop. But back when I was in salt, all I could ever feel was just to hide. I felt too naked and I feared people will start to hate on me. But at the same time, I didn't want to lose my position-- no. I didn't want to lose my team. I didn't want to lose my friends-I didn't want to lose kak monic whom I cherished the most. But most importantly, I know very well that I was at my peak, so there's now way things are going to get easier for me after this. I will have to start walking on my downhill. And I wasn't ready for that. I wasn't ready to let go things I have always wanted the most, friends, position, a clear job desk. Everything just felt like a dream come true, and I wasn't ready to give them up.

Everyday I spent thinking of how could I prove myself, that I am worthy of their trust. I am not as bad as what my mind made me think how people perceive me to be. Yet deep inside, I loathe that mindset. I hate the desperation. What should I prove them about? They saw the real me already, should I make another façade to shift their view me in a more loving way? I don't want it. I have lost it. I have lost the momentum(?), the affection(?). Whatever that is, I knew my time was up and I have to pack my bags and put an end to the chapter.

Shortly after I was transferred to a new team that I wasn't enjoy to be with (at first). Instead, that felt like a slap back for me to wake up from my lucid dream. Life is not as sweet as when I was part of the orion. Slowly I regain my survival instinct. And as soon as I landed my first job deal (which went futile), I decided that it was my time was over and I have to get myself out asap. After all the chaos, It took me almost 3 months of job seeking to land an opportunity. I mean, it's great but not very great at the same time. I'm still deciding. I might want to stay longer if kai didn't quit. But the future in this company is too vague, and I need a social circle to sustain my mental health..

Social circle... Recently my mind has been running around, back to when I was a cicit student. I miss those times the most. All the interactions that I took for granted. everytime I see a campus student association or anything similar, strolling around a campus area, seeing people wearing matching outfit symbolizing they are part of something, an enormous amount of jealousy evokes in me. I never had any of those. and the closest experience I could get was when I was a part of cicit. Which is irony. I got hurt a lot when I was there, I was too hurt that I started disregarded all the friendship that was offered to me. Now, to have a friend, a real friend feels too lavish. I doubt I can ever afford that. I'm afraid I can never experience that ever again. I want to, really really want to, keep believing that there are people out there who are willing to accept me, befriend me, be with me. I conceal the bitter truth by having imaginary friends in my mind, laughing at my own thoughts, talking to a shadow livening up by my imagination... how sad. And thats also probably why I didn't want to lose salt. I want to be part of something, I want to feel like I belong to something. I want my presence to be acknowledged. That I matter, That I make difference... and I knew at the back of my mind that once I quit salt, its going to take me another long time to meet those kind of people.

Next year, 2023 I will be turning 26. Honestly speaking, I hate that. I am still very childish, suck at my job, have 0 romance experience. Will the opportunity come to me to become a better person? a better professional? to be able to stand on my feet stronger? will my prince come? As much as I want to stay single, I can't keep doing that in front of my family. At least I need to get myself out of my own home to be able to take a greater control over my own life. something that seems to be very easy to do pre-covid era. But after covid and okptp that fuck over my life and mental health, I grow more and more cowards towards crowd. I hate that, thats the only way for me to get out.

I recently fell for ume, which is like 7 years late. In my mind, I always imagine talking with him, so that I can get a little bit conscious about what I do, how people view me. I mean, I want to make me a little bit excited about something... damn.... the life I've been through recently has been extremely miserable. I am sorry for myself, looking at my own condition feels very pathetic...

maybe deep down I still yearn for romantic partner. But I just can't see myself going through all the processes... How I wish I can meet a good person while being good with myself too. How I wish someone will take me the way I am with all my good and bad. I want to have it easy and comfortable.. I want to feel like I am the one and so he is. I want to feel like I am needed.. I want to have a new purpose in life... I want to feel like my presence does make difference

But on the top of everything, I want to be comfortable with my own skin first. I want to be able to navigate and control my life before taking anyone in....

Do I still have enough time?

0 notes

saintobio · 2 years

Note

Momjo is acting very human. Blaming yn comes from a place of hurt and guilt for her son and she may even be projecting her insecurities and self loathing unto yn.

I say that she’s acting very human but me saying she’s acting human isn’t a compliment just a statement. Human beings can be shitty, self centered, narrow minded creatures. They can get focused too much on what feels good to them now instead of focusing in what would be “right.”

Using momjo as an example. She saw gojo’s depression and had to stop his suicide attempts add the car crash and hospitalization she is exhausted emotionally and physically. That might be also another factor with her frustration to yn, she’s taking it out on her. It feels good to unload all that malice unto someone or something and yn is just the perfect target for that kind of relief. Who better to blame than the ex wife that lied about an abortion and pushed her son into suicidal depression in her mind. Is momjo hating on yn to relieve herself? Too feel a tiny bit of good? It’s very human of her to do so, a very shitty human thing to do. What’s she’s going through is sympathetic but I can’t bring myself to sympathize with her.

the right thing to do was to not pass blame unto anyone. She didn’t have to forgive yn, she could have taken the high road, be the better person and focused on gojo healing but she didn’t because it’s very human to make shitty choices and have shitty behavior.

Anonymous said

Ok but Gojo’s mom hostility is realistic like seriously irl alot of people would act and react that way. It’s human nature to act on their emotions and blame someone to appease their guilt or whatever emotion that is. I really pity yn in this sequel and I hope a happy ending for all the characters even she end up with Gojo or not.

Anonymous said

in my opinion the only problem is gojo's mother, she slapped Y/n because she couldn't handle the truth. Because she got mad she isn't the perfect angel she says to be that she has an ugly past too. Anyway about the whole gojohime thing, i personally think gojo if he found out would be forgiving and Utahime knows what kind of pain y/n went through so going and date her ex-husband she has so many memories with is not something she would do i think from what i've seen she's nice and loyal to y/n

Anonymous said

I don't really hate/blame/resent momjo and geto being mad at yn because it comes from a place of hurt and betrayal. What's not justified is them blaming yn for satoru's suicide attempts or calling her spiteful saying she hid sachiro and ghosted gojo to hurt him when in actuality she was just done with all the drama and wanted to prioritize herself over him but their feelings are still valid, blaming yn is not.

Who i do hate or put the blame on is gojo. This mofo still causing problems for everyone especially yn. It's not enough that he mistreated her to the point her angina appeared early now (was he the cause? If not I'll take that statement back) she's taking the blame for his suicide attempts.

I'm just "jesus this guy"..whether he does it intentionally or not, has a hand in it or by association yn gets hurt because of him.

I know i shouldn't blame satoru if he inadvertently hurts her. But I'm remembering the shit he put her through by choice and spite and I'm just "if only you weren't a horrible human being at the start none of this damage would have happened and spiraled into this mess"

@andreavasquezz said

Honestly idk what’s that nurses’ deal but she needs to stfu before I put her in a hospital bed myself. She’s acting as if she’s been apart of the marriage and lived through it. Like, if you don’t shut your dumb ass up, we are gonna have problems. Anyways…this fic has me so goddamn heartbroken. I miss yn being with Gojo, I SAID IT!!!! But I also like Toji with yn. But ayeee, sex scene next chapter???( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) I think if Gojo falls for Utahime I will cry and throw up. Literally! I understand where Gojo’s mother is coming from but why is she acting like her and yn didn’t suffer in similar ways? While she faced physical abuse, yn faced emotional and mental abuse. They both decided to live Satoru to heal themselves but Satoru’s mom is acting as if she didn’t do the same. That is the only reason she hit yn. She knew yn was talking mad facts. I hate how everyone is so against yn. I understand where they are coming from but why has everyone suddenly forgotten what she’s gone through? At one point she wanted to die, but no one seems to care. Those are my thoughts on this whole situation. 😭

Anonymous said

Damn Saint that chapter had my emotions all over the place and just when I thought that Momojo couldn't not get worse and really slapping Mc saying "you don't know what I have been through" I am just so done with her but props to Utahime for trying to defend Mc thank you Saint for everything that you put out for us and question and you don't have to answer if you don't want to but will Sincerely Yours get even worse or sadder I don't think my heart and emotion can take anymore angst and hurt with no comfort 😭😢

Anonymous said

wait- Mom Gojo really put all the blame to Y/N?????? did she forget she also contribute Gojo's pain LONGER before? Y/N was considerate enough to not mention about Gojo's mom leaving him and how affected Satoru was.

Mom Gojo really didn't change, after all. She swept all the problem under the rug, and refuse to take responsibility like her leaving Satoru

a lot of people are irked by momjo right now and i totally get that, i would’ve felt the same if i was the reader. her role kinda sets up this conflict between the two protagonists, but i really like how some of these asks mentioned that her reaction is still very human. it makes me glad that my approach to this plotline is being analyzed deeper than what it looks like honestly <3

right now i’m 50/50 with my sentiments abt momjo bc i understand her pov, but i also understand yn’s sooo 😩 more pain i guess

#saint ♱ asks #series: sincerely yours #tw.depression #tw.suicide #tw.trauma

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kiriharaakira · 3 years

Note

Hi, first of all, I want to thank you for your opinions of this manga, because I am new to this fandom. Also thank you for the translations of the chapters analysis, they help me a lot to understand it better.

My English is not very good and I haven't written in this language for a long time, so I apologize if these thoughts are not very clear

Thanks Google Translator

Reading this manga over and over again, I realized something, when Yashiro has "his encounters", even in his fantasies and memories, he never touches someone of his own free will, he is always touched, kissed, beaten, tied up, slapped, etc. and it is understood, he is a masochist, to obtain pleasure it must be through pain... Except for two occasions: the tender rub on Doumeki's cheek in the middle of their meeting and the kiss before telling him what bothers about him (I don´t count when he kissed Inami, the policeman, since that was before they had sex and to avoid a disaster with Doumeki being there annoyed by what he said)

When he takes the initiative (I think you know what I mean), he only touches "the part" that he likes, he does not touch any other part ... but when Doumeki begins to help him when he need it, Yashiro little by little begins to touch him, maybe it's instinct, I don't know, I haven't seen someone else do it to him either, maybe I'm thinking this matter too much hehehehe

What will happen when he is the one who wants to touch? Will he ever want to touch Doumeki? Now that Doumeki doesn't touch anyone else directly due to his gloves, will Yashiro feel the need to touch him? Will he want Doumeki to touch him again? When they are together again (because I know that will happen sooner or later), Will he touch him or will it be the same as always?

I don't know, maybe I'm thinking too much about the matter as I said before and I'm going further but I think that if you are with someone and you are in love with that person, you have the need to touch and feel it, I don't think that Yashiro is immune to those feelings, especially if he's still in love with Doumeki after 4 years

What a long question...

This is a long question that deserves dedicated answer. 😊 Your question contains multiple factors and I will try to answer them one by one. If you cannot understand my responds, please don’t hesitate to ask me again.

Yashiro is NOT a masochist, not from the first place. He made himself one to sustain his corrupting mental stage, so he won’t drown in the abyss of hatred and agony. He kept telling himself “I like pain” “I like it hurt” so he could survive the twisted lust of his stepfather. This is his survival instinct. He adjusted himself to fit into the world around him (Please refer to my other analysis <<Hello, Yashiro. How are you?>>).

Yashiro survived his childhood by deceiving (or you can say hypnotizing) himself. These lies then become part of him as he used these lies to protect himself. After he grew up, these lies become his armor, protect him from the hostility others hold to him. I said deceiving, because Yashiro wasn’t exactly enjoying sex no matter with pain or not. He hate sex (or in Misumi san’s words, he hate all mankind), but he kept doing it, because this is what he did when he was growing up, this is a part of him. He cannot simply cut it away, it is the same as he cut a major part of his own body away. The pain will be unbearable, and he most likely can never recover from it.

The major part of sex is touching. No matter it’s kissing or hugging or rubbing on skin, it is touching each other affectionally. But for Yashiro, who hate sex with all his mind, touching is not so enjoyable. He hate touching, just like he hate sex. He cannot cut sex away from his life, then he will keep affection away from sex. This is why he cannot accept any affection in sex. Anyone who dare mixing affection in sex will be discarded mercilessly. The best example we had is our poor Doumeki.

Talk about Doumeki. We all know he is special to Yashiro. Yashiro never let anyone (psychological) get close to him. He never open his heart to anyone. Yet Doumeki make out a territory in his heart. This is not normal. Nanahara, who worked for Yashiro for 10 years, couldn’t enter his heart. Misumi san, who knew Yashiro before he was even a Yakuza, couldn’t enter his heart. Hirata’s subordinate, who got suspended for falling in love with Yashiro, couldn’t enter his heart. Why Doumeki can? What makes Doumeki special to Yashiro?

There are many different theories according to this thesis. This is my guess.

Because Doumeki was impotent.

Yashiro hate sex. Anyone who are able to have sex with him is his target of hatred. This is why he never let Nanahara do it for him, because he doesn’t want to hate Nanahara (He is like a family to Yashiro BTW. The same reason Yashiro never thought for doing it with Kageyama.) But he allow Doumeki do it for him, and he didn’t hate Doumeki for it. Why? Because Doumeki was impotent, he was not able to have sex with Yashiro. I think a part of Yashiro feels safe around Doumeki, because he hate sex, and Doumeki can never do it with him. He felt comfortable about this. So comfortable that he allow Doumeki do what others can’t on him, so comfortable that he allow Doumeki stay close with him, so comfortable that he allowed Doumeki enter his heart, and became a special existent within him.

The feelings Yashiro hold for Doumeki was very simple, or you can say pure. Around all the men that could hurt (sleep with) him, Doumeki was the only one who was not able to do so. That’s why Yashiro became fond of him. You can say Yashiro didn’t see Doumeki as a Man (because Man will hurt him). Therefore, Doumeki was safe to touch, unlike the others. This is why Doumeki could stay close to Yashiro and eventually entered his heart. Because Yashiro hate all mankind, but in his eyes, Doumeki was not a “Man”.

However, this intimacy has one extremely important condition that CANNOT be violated. Yashiro cannot accept any affection mixed in sex, so for Yashiro to hold affection to someone, the rule is they CANNOT have sex. Because Yashiro hate sex. Sex is harmful. Sex is painful. Sex is the darkest part of him that he could never cut away. That’s why he accepted Doumeki, because Doumeki could never associate with sex. That’s why when Doumeki chose to cross that boundary, Yashiro fled.

And you asked if Yashiro wanted to touch Doumeki? Well...…

Maybe Yashiro was in love with Doumeki way earlier than we imagined.

#saezuru tori wa habatakanai #saezuru #saezuru analysis #saezuru fandom #yashiro

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angellesword · 3 years

Text

MAGIC SHOP | JJK (09)

Description: You and Jungkook were best friends who were in love with each other. What would happen when Soojin, your half sister who you’re trying to impress, told you she’s in love with Jungkook too?

Where did you stand after this? What choices did you have?

Alternatively:

“Would you believe me if I said that I was scared of everything too?”

Pairing: Architect!Jungkook x Architect!Reader (side pairing: Taehyung x Yoongi)

Genre: childhood best friends to lovers, family drama, angst, fluff, idiots to lovers, pining, slice of life au.

Warnings: Building collapse, resulting to death and injuries. Homophobia, cursing, and drinking alcohol on a plane, physical abuse (Sin-ae slapped OC)

Note: Texts like this = lyrics from this chapter’s OST which is It’s You by Henry

Word Count: 3.6k

Series: CHAPTER 8 | CHAPTER 10

When Jungkook claimed that 'the whole family needs you,' what he really meant was that the Kims needed you to convince Taehyung to go back to Seoul.

"No. I'd rather die than go back there." Your brother's face was scarlet, obviously fuming.

You sighed. Defeat was already knocking on your door, telling you to give it up. Taehyung was stubborn, no one could make him do something he proclaimed he hated.

"B-But..." You couldn't give up, so desperately, you looked at him and said "our family needs us—"

"Our family needs us?" He cut you off, voice laced with so much fury it made you flinch.

You hadn't seen him this enraged. Regret washed over you. Perhaps you should've waited for the sun to come up first before dropping the bad news to him. Taehyung woke up with a sour mood since you banged on your bedroom door, forcing him to come out and talk to you.

He had a frown on his face when he opened the door, eyes squinting, he asked you what you could possibly want in the middle of the night.

You told him your concern at once, not minding that Jimin was awake now, calling your name softly like he wasn't sure what was happening or why you're suddenly disturbing everyone's sleep.

Yoongi was awake too. He stood behind Taehyung as he scratched the back of his head, frowning at you.

You ruined their sleep while Jungkook ruined your peace.

He told you that your father and Soojin got into an accident. Apparently, the building which was being constructed by Castle Architectural Firm collapsed. Some construction workers, your father, and Soojin were injured.

Admittedly, you didn't know all the details because your mind had gone haywire the second you heard Jungkook associated your family's names with the word accident.

You could say though that between you and Taehyung, the latter was calmer. When you told him the same thing Jungkook had said to you, all your brother asked was this: "they're...still alive, right?"

You nodded your head, lips pressing into a grim line when he shrugged.

Nonchalantly.

Taehyung shrugged nonchalantly.

"Good. I'll just send them a text message later." He attempted to shut the door.

"Wait!" You stopped him, saying that you two needed to plan your trip back home.

It's his turn to smack his lips together, as if he found your statement ridiculous.

Taehyung told you he would never go back to Seoul. You still insisted on going though, prompting him to say things both of you knew he's gonna regret.

"Why are you forcing me to go back to that shithole?" He snapped at you. "Did you forget what I've been through because of him?"

You could see it in his eyes. He wanted to scream everything—he lost everything because of Taemin.

"B-But..." You were too frightened to think of a proper explanation so you just repeated what you said a few breaths ago, "they need us..." Your voice was actually low, like you weren't sure if what you said was valid.

Taehyung proved that it was bull by cackling. His tongue was prodding at the insides of his mouth.

"Bull fucking shit." You took a step back upon hearing his snarl. Taehyung was glaring daggers at you.

"Taehyung-ah..." Yoongi interrupted before his boyfriend could hurt you with his words. It was to no avail. Your brother didn't stop sputtering things. He was directing his frustration to you.

"What? I'm right, Yoongi." He also glared at his hyung before casting his gaze back at you. "We chose to leave but they pushed us to do it. Our father can't accept me. My mother barely tolerated me. Seokjin and Namjoon-hyung are the only ones who defended me, but where are they now? They stopped talking to me too—" He sounded bitter.

You couldn't blame him. None of them reached out to talk to you and your brother. It had been almost two years since you contacted them. They didn't spare you even a simple greeting no matter how many holidays had passed, no matter how long your messages were.

The Kims never replied.

"Consider leaving Seoul as a sign of you turning your back on us." This was what Taemin said to Taehyung.

And to you?

Nothing.

They never cared about you. As a matter of fact, you felt like you had done them a favor when you left. Even Soojin didn't bother to stop you. She only said you're old enough to decide for yourself, that she got a lot on her plate right now and that she didn't have time for your drama or whatever you're going through.

Taehyung said you were stupid. Why did you keep insisting yourself to them? Wasn't it obvious to you that they didn't want you in their circle? You were an outsider they would never let in.

"—and now you're saying they need us? For what?" He answered his own question after swallowing his spit. "For support? That's rich coming from them, don't you think? How dare they ask something they never gave us when we needed it the most?"

"I don't want to end up like them, oppa." Your voice was barely audible as you trained your eyes on the floor. "You and I both know how painful it is not to have the support we craved. Do you really want to pass that pain to someone else?"

Taehyung cackled, forcing you to cast your eyes back to him.

"That's where we're different, little sister." He licked his lower lip, thunder and lightning were brewing in his eyes. "I don't care about the pain of the people who hurt me. I don't want to be the bigger person here. What? Am I supposed to just forget everything I went through just because my father is in pain? He's hurt for a reason. He deserves it."

Taehyung knew he was being mean. He couldn't help it. Why must he allow toxic people back in his life again? He managed to pull himself from a very dark place. It was difficult. It was shitty. It was heartbreaking. But he did it.

He did it and just because he could didn't mean he'd allow himself to go back to that dark place. Taehyung wouldn't. He would never be sorry for how he protected his peace.

Not going back to Seoul was how he did it.

"But Soojin..." If Taehyung couldn't forgive his father, then he should go back home for the sake of his other sister.

"Ah," your brother smirked. "Kim Soojin. The person who stole the love of your life. Am I right?" He crossed his arms, not waiting for you to reply.

"Sometimes I don't understand you. Are you a martyr or an idiot? Why would you want to help Soojin? You suffered greatly because of her, did you not?"

You were once again lost for words.

Taehyung continued speaking.

"She's mean to you. She's the reason why you're far away from home." He stroked his chin, squinting his eyes at you. "I know now. You're not a martyr. You're stupid. You enjoy loving the people who hurt you, and then you hurt people who love you."

Yoongi grabbed his boyfriend's wrist vigorously. Taehyung ignored his first warning so Yoongi wouldn't allow him to talk to you any further. He was upset and he was starting to hurt you. It's not right.

Taehyung was unstoppable though.

"You love everyone except Jungkook. Is that the reason why you wanna go back home, huh? Guilt finally caught up with you? Do you really want to be there for our family, or is this the only excuse you can think of because you want to see Jungkook again? You haven't moved on from him, have you?"

The storm in his eyes reached you. The thunder was like a booming pain in your head. The lightning electrified your heart that couldn't be revived.

You felt sick, like you were going to faint. Jimin was suddenly beside you. He dug his fingers into your hips, keeping you from falling.

"Kim Taehyung." Jimin growled at his best friend.

"It's okay," you clamped your eyes shut and after a few seconds, you opened them again, staring into your brother's remorseful eyes.

Funny how people instantly pulled themselves together right after lashing out.

"I'll fly back home tomorrow, even without you."

You were true to your words. You booked a flight going back to Seoul while Yoongi pulled Taehyung back to bed, urging him to rest for a while before deciding what he wanted to do with the information you told him.

Morning came and he still didn't change his mind. You had to go home alone.

"I'm going to miss you," but Jimin dropped you off to the airport. Yoongi wanted to go with you, sadly you told him to just stay with his boyfriend.

"Me too." You unbuckled your seat belt and then you turned to your roommate, giving him your sincerest smile. "Thank you, Jimin. For everything."

He was the sweetest and kindest boy you knew. Jimin paid for your plane ticket since you didn't have enough money for it. You told him you would pay him back soon, but he simply brushed you off, saying that it didn't matter to him if you couldn't pay.

"Just be safe, okay?" He ruffled your hair while you studied his face. You could see it in his eyes, he wanted to say more. You could almost feel these words leaving his mouth: and please come back to me.

He didn't say it though. He couldn't ask for that knowing that Taehyung was probably right. You were not over Jungkook.

You dreaded seeing him. What were you supposed to do after pretending like he didn't exist for almost two years?

Taehyung hated you for sending long holiday messages to the Kims despite not getting a response.

You, on the other hand, hated yourself for ignoring Jungkook's handwritten holiday messages for you—well, actually, it wasn't just holiday letters. Your best friend sent you letters from time to time.

He sent two letters a week. This went on for a year but then one day, Jungkook just...stopped.

You thought he got tired of you and it broke your heart and made you hate yourself even more. You were the one who left. He was the one who begged you to stay.

You didn't deserve anything from him, not even his anger. The question was, could you take it? Could you bear seeing indifference in his eyes after getting used to the love always dancing in his eyes?

Probably not. This was why you were trying to calm your nerves by taking advantage of the free wine on the plane. Jimin was the one who booked your flight, choosing business class.

You didn't deserve it. You didn't deserve these good men in your life. Taehyung was right. You always ended up hurting the people who loved you.

You drank the pain and bitterness away. You lost count on how many glasses of wine you had, all you knew was that your head was spinning and you felt like shit when you got off the plane.

"I didn't know you drink."

You groaned upon hearing Seokjin's remark. You didn't feel like shit anymore.

You felt shittier.

Abashed, you smiled apologetically at your older brother, suddenly regretting his offer to pick you up from the airport.

"Long time no see, oppa..." Two years and he still looked the same: like a deity. Seokjin aged like a fine wine.

"I'm sorry I can't convince Taehyung-oppa to come home with me." Your face was hot and you weren't sure if it was because of wine or embarrassment.

Seokjin noticed your sheepishness as he took your suitcase and handbag, carrying them for you.

"I didn't expect him to come. But at least you're here. Father is expecting you." He started walking so you followed.

"H-How's he and Soojin?" You were stammering since you weren't used to conversing with him. This was probably the longest conversation you had with your eldest brother.

Seokjin had always acted indifferent towards you.

"Jungkook didn't tell you?" He enquired while loading the boot of his car with your luggage.

"He...just told me they're injured."

Your brother sucked in a breath. He closed the trunk of his car loudly before turning to you. Too many emotions were painted on his face, but the most apparent was...exhaustion? Or was it sympathy for your naivety?

"I envy you..." The corner of his mouth turned up as he eyed you from head to toe. You fought the urge to step back. He was making you feel intimidated ."You got to drink. I didn't." He walked towards the driver's seat of his car, opening its door. "The situation is getting worse, sister. You should've drunk more when you still had the chance."

You didn't understand what Seokjin said to you at first, but the moment he turned on the radio in his car, your world crumpled and you wished you had drunk more wine.

"SPD has confirmed that at least four people died in a commercial building collapse Wednesday afternoon in—"

Your stomach flipped, your brain no longer able to listen to the sickening news.

Baffled, your head snapped to look at your brother who was clenching his jaw, his grip on the steering wheel was tight.

"I thought no one died!" You whimpered, chest recoiling.

"That's fifteen hours ago."

Fuck.

"B-But...you said Soojin and father are okay, right? They're not..." You trailed off, it was physically painful for you to continue your statement.

Seokjin sucked in a deep breath as he realized it was better to tell you the truth now. He said that your father was still unconscious, something big and hard fell on his head.

Soojin was in a wheelchair but at least she's conscious. There were cuts and bruises all over her body because of the fallen debris.

"Can we go straight to the hospital now, oppa? I..." You licked your lower lip. "I want to see Soojin and father."

Seokjin didn't answer but he nodded his head. The rest of the ride was filled with silence. The older man turned off the radio when he realized you were breathing heavily.

You tried to calm down. You really did, howbeit everything was too much for you. The alcohol in your system was making you feel hot even though you're literally covered in cold sweat.

What about those people who had died? Do their family know? How could Castle help them? Who was taking charge?

You whimpered again. When you left two years ago, the situation was already bad. The construction workers were protesting every Friday, demanding to be treated right—to be treated fairly. They didn't have the same benefits as regular employees. They didn't have social insurance. Their daily wage wasn't even enough to get them by.

"Hey..." Seokjin slowed down, glancing at you when he heard you whine for the umpteenth time. "Your head hurts? We can buy coffee if you want..."

Was he worried thinking that you had too much wine?

"I'm okay, oppa. Just thinking about those who..." You swallowed thickly. "d-died."

Seokjin's eyes softened.

"Namjoonie is taking care of it," he exhaled slowly. "Don't worry about it."

It was easier said than done. You thought about this as you headed to the VIP floor of the hospital. Taemin was confined in one of the rooms on that floor.

You were going to see your father in a few and admittedly, you were nervous. Seokjin's words were echoing inside your head: don't worry about it. How could you stop worrying about those workers who had died when there's a possibility that your father might end up just like them?

"Where's Taehyung?" You heard Sin-ae before you saw her. She was guarding the door of Taemin's room, like she had no intention to let you in.

Of course. You expected this day to be difficult. Nothing much had changed in the past two years. Sin-ae still treated with strong contempt.

You noticed the change in her eyes though. Back then, she threw daggers at you, but right now, she looked like she didn't have the energy to do that. Her eyes were...hollow.

"I...couldn't convince him to go home—"

It was sudden.

Not your answer. You had thought so many times while you were on plane the things you would tell Sin-ae and your entire family as to why Taehyung couldn't come home.

He's busy with work, but he's sad he can't come.

He's flying back home in days. Let's just wait for him.

He said he's sorry. He'll call later. Don't worry.

Your excuses were thought thoroughly. You practiced saying it. Hell, you even imagine what they'd say or how they'd react.

You expected them to scowl, to cry...Sin-ae cried.

She cried after slapping you right across the face. She's angry. She's sad. She's frustrated. She's directing these ugly feelings twisting in her gut to you.

"He couldn't come?" She hissed, her eyes were red and tears kept on rolling down her cheeks. She was shaking.

"Jungkook told you to convince my son to go home! You had one job! One fucking job! Why can't you do it, huh?"

"I'm sorry," you were guilty. You avoided her gaze. "I just..." And then you bit your tongue before you said "want to see my father..."

You tried to get past her, but she blocked the way.

"No!" She spread her arms to cover the door. "You are not allowed to see my husband, bastard!"

You shook your head, ignoring her and still insisting to go inside the room. Seokjin said Taemin wanted to see you.

He requested your presence.

"Please." You pleaded. Your voice was shaky too, your blood running cold. Something was wrong. Something was telling you you had to see your father.

The beat of your heart wasn't normal.

"He wants me here..."

"No!" Sin-ae pushed your chest. "We want Taehyung here. Not you! So get lost!"

No.

You pushed her too, making her more aggressive. Sin-ae scratched your skin, screaming. She wanted you to go away.

"What is happening here?" Seokjin arrived. He was so startled to see his mom in this feral state.

"I want her out, Seokjin! Make her go away!" Sin-ae wailed in her son's arm.

Your older brother embraced her tight. He was looking at you using those puppy eyes.

"I'm so sorry," he shook his head at you and then he mumbled "please leave..."

Off you go.

You were defeated anyway. Two versus one. How could you fight your family?

You were exhausted. Both from your long flight and dealing with Sin-ae. Your head hurt too.

You needed coffee to help you sober up. Fuck wine. Fuck Sin-ae. Fuck this stupid vending machine.

Why couldn't you have your coffee?

It was fucking stuck.

You breathed heavily while massaging your temple.

You hadn't recovered from your throbbing head when a new wave of pain engulfed you.

Someone called your name.

Not just someone.

You knew that voice well.

You turned your head to the side slowly.

You saw the person who called you.

"Soojin..." It was Jungkook who called your name, but what you uttered was your sister's name.

He was with her. Jungkook was standing behind Soojin's wheelchair.

Baby I'm falling head over heels

Your breathing hitched while looking at the both of them.

It was just like in movies. You know, when your eyes sparkled when you saw someone you loved after a very long time.

Looking for ways to let you know just how I feel

You called Soojin yet your eyes were focused on your best friend. The friend you hadn't seen in years.

I wish I was holding you by my side

His voice was soft when he uttered your name. But just like Sin-ae, his eyes changed too.

Indifference.

He was no longer looking at you with fire in his eyes.

I wouldn't change a thing 'cause finally it's real

It was like he's a completely different person. It hurt looking at him like this, like he didn't recognize you, like he was debating if you were real or not.

Were you really here? Or were you just a fragment of his imagination?

You walked towards them, causing Jungkook to flinch.

His chest felt heavy. He gripped the push handle of Soojin's wheelchair with force.

You were standing near them now.

Jungkook blinked.

He wasn't hesitating anymore.

You were definitely here.

I'm tryin' to hold back, you ought to know that

"Hi..." You said to Soojin, voice wavering. It hurt seeing her like this. She had a cervical collar on. It was difficult for her to speak.

You crouched down as you smiled softly at your sister.

Jungkook watched you. He was holding himself back. It wasn't the right time to hold you in his arms.

You're the one that's on my mind

He missed you though. More than so much. Two years and you were still running inside his mind.

I'm falling too fast deeply in love

Everything was dawning to him too fast.

Two years and he still loved you.

Time was irrelevant.

It went slow when you weren't around. He thought those painfully long moments without you by his side were enough to forget his feelings for you.

Finding the magic in the colors of you

Apparently, it wasn't enough. He stared hard at you, like he was looking for something.

Love? Affection? Anger? Longing?

He would take anything you could offer, because after all this time, he was still in love with you.

Little did he know, you felt the same way too.

For Jungkook, you're the right time at the right moment

But as you straighten your back and met his gaze, you realized something:

For you, he was the wrong time at the wrong moment.

A/N: my mom asked me if i was planning to write fics tonight or workout. i chose the former because MAN my body is so sore i don’t think i’ll be able to move properly. 😩 standing workout IS NOT easier than sitting workouts!!!!! ANYWAY i know there aren’t many jk x oc moments in the past chapters....so ✌️

#jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #ficswithluv #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #armywriterssupport #jungkook best friend #jungkook best friends to lovers #bts fic

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ruleofexception · 2 years

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Ok so! For fic questions I was wondering 1) what are your top three favorite fics that you have written (are writing/wanting to write)? 2) What fic of yours has hit you MOST in the feels? 3) And what fic of yours would you consider the FLUFFIEST :3? [small question: but any specific headcanons or extra thoughts you wanna dash on any of your fics? :3] Hope this is okie!

Ohhhh! Of course! This is more than okay <3

All great questions. Okay. Uhm...

1) Top three favourites would probably be:

- The Fall of the Crown rewrite! I actually look forward to Saturday nights now, just to post the next chapter haha. I do still need to wrap up the final chapter/epilogue, but am finally done editing the last few chapters (we're up to a whooping 227K)!

- Unheavenly Creatures! I. Love. This. Fic. It's easily one of the ones I'm most proud of. And I have a lot of fun when writing it. I'm so excited for FOTC to finally wrap itself up, so I can dive into this one and do it justice <3

- If my brain ever gives me more than just random shenanigans for Life Eternal, I would love to continue this one. But, until I figure out a plot I'm happy with, this'll be one of those fics that sits on the back-burner with the rest of my poor drafts. So many pots on the stove. All of them burning.

2) Most feels:

I have exactly two fics that have made me cry while writing them: Sword & Bauble and Fall of the Crown. S&B for the obvious reason (I legit cried my way through writing ch 1 and the only reason I could keep going was because I just kept muttering that it would be fine. That I would fix it). And you've yet to see the scene that made me cry in FOTC (and as it's not until like, ch38, you won't see it for a while lol). But I definitely teared up and had to walk away and make myself some tea (hahah), because it was hitting me right in the feels.

3) IT’S SO FLUFFY!

I'll be honest, I rarely write strictly fluff-fics, so this was difficult. If we're talking ‘long-fic’, with the most fluff rot-your-teeth scenes, I'd probably say All These Years or Forgotten. One-shots/drabbles might be Names or this prompt from Joanna's bday a few years ago!

And small the headcanon question is below the cut because I have no self control and wrote you a novel.

Headcanons that I like (or make frequent appearances in my fics):

- One that is pretty much canon at this point (and is repeated in almost every fic I can squeeze it into), is that Obi is a cagey mofo who does not trust or like having people tend to him. Like, he won't tell anyone that he's hurt. Ever. The only time he admits to being injured is if someone notices. And I think that it takes Shirayuki a long time and a lot of bribing to get him to confide in her and for her to be able to properly treat him. I fully believe that at least some of their time in Lilias has been spent with Shirayuki chasing after him, offering to buy him dinner or a drink, if he'll just sit still long enough for her to examine whatever injury he's managed to get while he was training (eventually it gets to the point where he's comfortable enough going to her with injuries. But also, he may have started associating having her patch him up, with having a belly-full afterwards lol. Obi's brain: Get healed. Get snacks. More time with Shirayuki. It's wins across the board.). And as much as I know Obi trusts Ryuu and thinks him a good pharmacist, I don't think even Ryuu is able to treat his injuries like Shirayuki can (if Shirayuki isn't around, and it's not that bad, he won't go seek help. The most he'll do is like, slap a bandage on it and call it a day). Which means I am also convinced that the reason he didn't pull away in this scene:

was because 1) they weren't even meant to find out he was hurt, 2) he had an audience (Zen would have been even angrier with him, if he'd pulled away and refused treatment) and 3) this was more for Shirayuki than it was for him.

He's not that hurt. He'd have just left it to scab over and do its own thing, if he was the only one who knew about it. But he lets her do it anyways, because it makes her feel better that he has a bandage.

- Another one that's basically my canon lol... Aside from maybe Garrack or Lata, Shirayuki is the most colourful and casual curser. She doesn't usually curse loudly (like Garrack does) or mumble curses at or about people (like Lata), but she does curse, almost constantly, under her breath. Spills an ink-well? It's just five minutes of her muttering 'fuck' and 'shit' as she tries to clean up the spill. She sees/reads something strange and unusual and it's a 'what the fuck' so quiet that no one else really registers what she's said. And I will forever believe that the moment, right before she jumps off that tower and into the water for Popo's bell, she just sorta shrugged to herself and went 'fuck it, let's do this I guess'.

- I also think that Shirayuki is the kind of person who has two anger settings: 1) Tread carefully or I will throat punch you with no hesitation and zero remorse, and 2) we got into an argument about paint colours and you said ‘I don’t care’, which is a bold-faced lie because clearly you do care, so I took every single paint chip from the store and now they’re tacked up on our wall until you make a decision.

- A HC I really like, but haven't really called much attention to or explored, is the one where Obi is colourblind and that's why he's so hum-drum about her hair. Because her hair isn't anything (for him at least) to bat an eye over. Like, he knows it's red, because people keep telling him that. But that, in no way, defines who she is to him.

- Recently I’ve been vibing with the HC that Obi wouldn’t kiss Shirayuki (especially a first kiss) when they’ve been drinking or are intoxicated. He wants to. And he definitely thinks about it. A lot. It may even come close. But he doesn’t want to feel like he’s taking advantage of her, or have it be something she regrets come morning. If there’s going to be a drunk anything that happens between them, Shirayuki is the one who starts it and any chance he gets, Obi just keeps asking her if that’s what she really wants and if she’s sure.

- Obi didn’t win Shirayuki’s hair-bauble from that fight. I don’t know whether it was one of his few possessions from before (maybe it used to belong to someone important to him) or if he purchased it beforehand JUST for her, but a I don’t buy it for one second that he was fighting some thug and the winnings just HAPPENED to include a hair bauble. He 100% used the fight as an excuse to give it to her.

- While I do really like and appreciate the idea that Ryuu doesn’t think of Obi and Shirayuki as his parentals, I refuse to accept it lol. In any fic, when I have the opportunity to have Ryuu call either Shirayuki ‘mom’ or Obi ‘dad’, I take it. They are his parents and I will die on this hill.

- Also, while we’re on the subject of Ryuu... there is a small part of me that likes the idea that Ryuu is Kain’s bastard son. I realize it’s probably a bit of a stretch, but I so don’t care haha. So, for your consideration: we don’t know much about Kain other than he died ‘tragically’ when Izana and Zen were still fairly young. After his death, Haruto took over for a while, but then she peaced out to the north because she was suddenly ‘allergic’ to the palace. Now. We all know and love the Crazed King Kain theory (basically canon lol). I like to think that Crazed King Kain knocked up one of the staff members and, in 9 months when this servant girl comes forward with a wholeass baby, saying that it’s his, Kain is actually thrilled, because yayyy! Another son! He wishes to go about actually having the boy legally recognized as his son and Haruto loses her shit (probably not the first time she’s caught Kain burying his dick somewhere it shouldn’t be, but definitely the first time his infidelity has sired an illegitimate - soon to be legitimate - heir that would feel no obligation or fealty towards her). So, Kain’s accident is no accident (hard to legitimize a bastard, if the king is dead and parliament is - for the most part - unaware of said bastard lol). The servant girl is dealt with. And Haruto basically gives the baby to Haruka to ‘figure it out’. Haruka opts for keeping Ryuu close (easier to control and monitor the child, when living near/in the palace - just in case genetics decided to make a mini-Kain). Haruka low-key freaks out the day that Ryuu starts asking around about what happened to his parents and tells Garrack that she needs to stop him from questioning or it’s the last question he’ll ever ask; Garrack just sits Ryuu down and tells him that his parents died, shortly after he was born (not a lie). And that’s the end of that. Eventually, when Haruto’s guilt catches up with her and she can’t stand to see Ryuu around the palace, she packs up and leaves, claiming allergies. The older Ryuu gets, the less like Kain he looks and the more freedom he’s given. ANYWAYSSSSS. It’s a bit like grasping at straws. But I like it.

- And we’ll end with a FOTC specific thinky-thought (I guess it’s sort of an easter-egg now?) that’s somehow both vague and spoilery? I actually hummed and hawed about including this in here, because we haven’t even seen this character yet, but aside from a few disconnected lines here and there, I don’t actually make reference to this scene (it really is just a nice little thought that lives in my brain rent free). So! That said, since FOTC is technically a canon-divergence fic, this canon scene with the roka harvesting would have happened. It is my delightful little thinky-thought that there is a specific FOTC character he’s mistaken Shirayuki for in this scene. Kudos to you guys if you remember this and figure out who it is.

And, there you have it. Some headcanons and thinky-thoughts I enjoy. I could keep going, I’m sure. But those are some of my main ones that, at this point, are basically canon for me ahaha

#my writing #obiyuki #ans #akagami no shirayukihime #writing #fanfic #fandom #<3 #thank you for the ask!#this was a lot of fun #and took a lot longer than I was expecting because I got super into it hahah #and in a shocking development that actually surprises no one.... I don't have a lot of fluff fics #I had to go digging for those fics and like... skim them to make sure they weren't going to go straight to angst #and even then I think that of the 4... the 'names' one is the sappiest (and also written forever and a half ago lol)#so many headcanons #so. many.

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pinkpruneclodwolf · 2 years

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*Smashes through your door* HELLO I AM BACK CONTINUING THIS INFO DUMP BUT THIS TIME WITH EPEL APPLE BOYYYYYYYYY

Beginning with Epel---because dear christ you opening up the biblical imagery flooded a lot of ideas in my mind so please bear with me bc this is going to be long as shit---Okay so starting with his name Epel. It basically translates into "apple" the apple in christian/cathlolic mythology is often associated with the fruit eve had bitten down. Your previous reply to my other ask already elaborated on this but basically the apple was deemed an "evil fruit" because of it which fits because his appearance is unassuming but very pretty looking (like an apple), Epel goes to a school for villain's and he's in the dorm of the evil queen who specialized in potions (the apple having cyanide is a nudge to this too). The apple being a sign of manhood fits with him as well because while Epel still isn't what you consider a "man" its actually his whole character arc when you think about it. His toxic views on what it means to be a man "poisons" him and ends up just stunting him until he eats the right "apple" instead making him grow into an actual "man" and a person as well. The thing about the golden apples and it meaning immortality might play into what his role in the whole story is as well. Epel is already playing a MAJOR role in chapter 6 which is heavily influenced by greek mythology and ties in with heavy themes of death and revival (ortho) maybe he'll actually be the key to granting ortho the life he needs? (henceforth immortality) maybe he'll even develop his UM and grow a bond with ortho too in that chapter but who knows we'll just see... Yana please update the main story already im begging on my hands and knees please.

His last name being Felmier which means farmer (or tenant farmer but you know what? don't sweat the details) your thing about him being "the second Adam" fucking slaps bc we all know Adam was the first human but did you know that he was the garden of Eden's "Gardener"? (he named the animals, plants, etc. and it was implied that he tended to them too) and a gardener is sort of a farmer too. We all know that he belongs to family of farmers and is a farmer but there's actually a lot of meaning to that as well. Him being a farmer links directly back to Epel's character arc and growth. Farmer's are known to take care of their stock. The stock Epel's family takes care of are apples which is ironic when you think about it because epel actually doesn't take care of himself. He constantly tries to be this "ideal guy" that he ends up poisoning his apples (himself) in the process. Unless he starts re-evaluating how he handles his crops (himself) he can never have the crops (guy) he NEEDS not/and WANTS (to be). On the other hand him being the farmer could also directly link to his role in chapter 8. In the bible god was said to have sowed "seeds" within his people the seed was the holy spirit i think but i dont remember anymore and the holy spirit was, essentially the guardian spirit of the people that allowed/guided them to do good/ god's will. We can already see this already happening in chapter 6 where he comforts/pushes Yuu. Even in chapter 5 where he plants seeds of doubts within the mob's mind about should we really hurt this guy? and even in the current event with him and his hometown where he plants seeds of determination within sebek to make malleus and lilia proud.

Epel could easily be the moral boost for the cast during the fight with OB! Grim---the emotional support they need because when you think about it OB! Grim is OP as hell and the fight with him would be long as fuck. A long fight can often times be discouraging and tiring for everyone, especially when the person whose supposed to be the moral supporter (Yuu) is now missing in the fray. Epel stepping into this role would be a nice way to show his change because Epel is always, always desperate to be an attacker not a defender, but thats just not who he is. He's a farmer and farmer's are not fighters they're caretakers which are similar to prefect's in a way. Him accepting this role would mean that he's accepted himself and therefore is a "true man" now finishing his character growth. (Also him being "the farmer" AKA the citizen of a kingdom (king<--Deuce) fits pretty well, since the people have to often times keep up moral for the others esp if they're supporting and want others to support ther leader-like figure).

But like what do you think? KJSDHJHDS I was going to add Ortho but honestly there's just little to go by with Ortho--for me at least. I honestly don't know how he should be developed as a character (I do have an idea on what his base is--pinocchio, hades, cerberus, megara/hercules but like jhdfkjsdh the details are hard to fucking align) so pls send help because---I do know where to put Ortho in all this---but I don't know how he'll do his said part in this. KJHDFSHKJFD Anyways--peace out and stay healthy as always bestie :heart:

EVERYTIME I OVERLOOK SOMETHING U ALWAYS PICK UP WHERE I LEFT OFF OMGG LIKE I GENUINELY FORGOT EPEL'S LASTNAME DEAR GOOOODDDD.

Epel playing the support role is actually immaculate like that ate up bc my theory is that Epel might develop his UM next and it will have something to do with support (like giving an exceptional power boost to the team, like im talking mega damage) or straight up attack where each hit (bite) landed gives him massive power boosts the same way a farmer having a signature crop and capitalizing off of it.

Tell me why when I was looking up the symbolism of Ortho I came across the meaning of shroud—"a length of cloth or an enveloping garment in which a dead person is wrapped for burial"

Ain't that something especially considering that in ye olde English it was part of a verb that meant "'cover so as to protect’.

We see that Idia and Ortho are very protective of each other, Ortho willing to rally the boys together to save his brother from getting married to a ghost and dying.

Their last name literally tells us all that we need to know honestly—ofc Hades is the God of death but they're so far separated from him that you can't just brush something as substantial as that

I never considered Pinocchio also being his base but the name that Rook calls him "Monsier Doll" makes all the more sense in that context. I can't believe I overlooked that!!!

Lets not even mention that "shroud" also means to cover something up/conceal something. When you check Ortho's wiki some of his information is practically redacted and he only has a small section detailing his trivia and personality.

How much information about Ortho is gonna be released during Chap 6??? YANA TELL US WE SWEAR WE WONT SPILL IT (without a reasonable price)

Idia and Ortho are so close that sometimes one could say they are synonymous with each other bc we doNT KNOW SHIT ABIUT EITHER OF THEM OMG WHAT DOES THE NAME "IDIA" EVEN MEAN YANA GET OVER HERE NOWWWWW.

Like Idia has one personal story to himself wtaf Yana tell us more about i coral blue lipstick no. 5 wearing boyo pls i have a addict—fando—family to feed.

Honestly, Yana is very secretive about Idia and Ortho both to the point that i think she's also hiding something about them from us.

Hmmmm.

#twisted wonderland #twst #@hiraya manwari #scream into the void and i'll answer

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