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😝😚
Felt cute, might make a fandom ask blog or two later idk
#Pls tell me#would anyone want a HM ask blog abt the groundskeeper Zeke?#I made a post about him recently and it got literally 0 interaction#also sometimes I get scared to post stuff for fear that it’ll be too similar to something else and then people will think I’m copying#and cringe#pls help me here am I being to paranoid/worried?#moots pls help#I wanna answer asks for fandoms but the fandoms I wanna do them for are dead lol
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TMBS Book 1 Brain Dump
~An Embarrassingly Long Post~
I don’t know why I’m writing this or why I’m so determined to do it. Maybe to finally assume my true form and become a mega dork on main, or maybe just for fun!
This is basically a compilation of all the main points running through my head after reading The Mysterious Benedict Society (2007) for the first time. Rather than posting a ton and spamming the tag, everything’s here in one neat package! (hopefully this gets it all out of my system rip)
Contents:
The Book Itself
The Book Itself, for real this time
The Characters
A Funny Parallel
The S.Q. Section
Lines & Scenes I Liked
Spoilers abound!
The Book Itself
Upon acquiring the first three books (don’t judge me pls), I was surprised at just how long they are. Like, they’re still pretty light being paperbacks and all, but these books are hefty lads.
The first book has this Disney+ Original Series circle thing printed on it, which is kind of unfortunate. Regardless, I love the cover illustration and yellow is actually my favorite color :D It made me weirdly quite happy whenever I saw the book lying around in my room
Also, it’s really cute how there’s a letter from Mr. Benedict at the end! (It only reveals that you can find out his first name if you “know the code”, meaning the bit of Morse printed below the summary on the back.) Shock and horror, though, as I realized I’m starting to recognize some of the letters
The Book Itself, for real this time
It’s wonderful how the tone of the book really shone through to the show adaptation. Something about the deliberateness of the aesthetic, from the set designs to the fashion to scene compositions, that really sells that particular style— like it’s very clear that this story is being told to us, rather than one we’re seeing unfold, if that makes sense.
Where that narration style stood out to me the most was the first chapter. We are told (rather than shown) how Reynie gets himself to the point of the second test, and there’s this whole twisty time maneuver for that whole sequence of events that’s really interesting
A super secret fun fact about me is that I wanted to be a writer when I was younger! So this particular balance of show vs. tell is really neat, since it runs counter to my own tendencies. The sheer amount of commas in every sentence is also kind of comforting, since Ahah, I Do That in those few serious-ish attempts at writing lol
Overall this book’s style reminds me a lot of Roald Dahl’s books, which are very nostalgic for me :D The whole “kids are more competent than adults” angle helps a lot too haha
The Characters
Oh boy here’s where I get a little bit critical! Overall I did really like this book!! it’s just that that expresses itself in all this weird “”analysis”” lol
Reynie - much better in the books than in the show
It’s sort of a lukewarm take but I feel like show!Reynie is kind of boring? He doesn’t have a lot going on flaw-wise, and obviously since he’s the protagonist he can’t have too many weird traits or else the kids watching can’t project themselves onto him as easily
(I call it the difference between an aspirational protagonist and a vessel protagonist. Going off of the Roald Dahl vibes, think Matilda vs Charlie. show!Reynie is more of a Charlie)
Thus when we get to see him really struggle with the Whisperer and doubt himself it gives him a lot more dimension, at least in my opinion
It is a federal crime that the white knight scenes were not adapted into the show
Sticky - my son
I’ve long held to no one besides myself and my long suffering sister that Sticky is The Best Member of the Society
He happened to hit a lot of the Bingo squares of Stuff I Like In Characters: glasses, anxious, nice :), kind of a coward but ultimately is there for his friends, etc
For some reason I don’t talk about him nearly as much as you-know-who, but I love him just as dearly
Kate & Constance - I don’t have much to say
Kate is really interesting in this book! I like how we get to see more of her depths, in particular that one passage about her belief that she is invincible being the only thing that keeps her from falling apart? :c
Also her constant fidgeting is relatable lol
Constance is somehow a lot more tolerable in the book. I think I’m just one of those people with no patience for small children, unfortunately lol
(Some of) The Adults
It’s interesting that they had such an offscreen presence for most of the book. Giving them more time was probably one of the stronger changes of the show
However if that decision was made at the expense of the white knight scenes I think the choice should have been clear
I like the way Rhonda and Number Two are written
Milligan always on sad boy hours 😔✊
The “mill again” passage is touching but kind of messes up the pacing of the getaway, at least for me. Maybe I should read it again to make sure I didn’t miss something
Miss Perumal is much better in the show. We see so little of her in the book she doesn’t function well as an emotional anchor for Reynie, imo
The Institute Gang
Jackson and Jillson serve their purpose well, and Martina was surprising to say the least. I like the direction they took her in the show! I can’t imagine how funny it must have been to watch the tetherball subplot come out of nowhere lolol
These sections were written out of sequence, so random tidbit I couldn’t fit in The S.Q. Section: I like how he stumbles over his words. relatable
Mr. Curtain
While I think I know why they decided to not give Curtain the wheelchair in the show, we were totally robbed of Actor Tony Hale’s performance for the reveal during the final confrontation
Speaking of the wheelchair, it’s such a powerful symbol of his need for control or rather, his fear of losing it
The Contrast between him and Mr. Benedict. This point is expanded on in A Funny Parallel
Mr. Benedict
Oh boy, Mr. Benedict… How do I say this
I find it hard to trust Mr. Benedict, unfortunately
I mean to say, I do in the sense that I know he would never hurt the kids, thanks to knowing that a) this is a children’s book series and b) the meta (tumblr) states that he is really nice and lovable and stuff, but seriously. Why do the kids trust him at first?? I probably missed something somewhere
I like to think I’m an optimistic person, but unfortunately I’m also super paranoid. The premise of “a bunch of vulnerable orphans team up with a strange old man” is just so odd to me I don’t know how to explain it
I don’t know!!! I really want to trust Mr. Benedict
One of the strengths of the show is that we get to see him more often, and thus he gets to acknowledge more often that the plan is weird and that he feels really badly for putting the kids in danger and that he’s trustworthy and genuine
But his lack of presence for most of the book just makes him into something of a specter, invisible and unknowable, speaking only in riddles from across the bay
Which is why the white knight scene is so important!! I loved that scene ;-;
Because here’s an actual emotional connection! We can actually see it happening, rather than only being told that it exists
Reynie asking for advice and receiving encouragement, in words that demonstrate that Mr. Benedict actually cares about him and worries about him and agghh
It is a federal crime that the white knight scenes were not adapted into the show
But overall this whole issue didn’t ruin my enjoyment of the book at all! It’s just ->
A Funny Parallel
Okay, ready for my biggest brain, hottest take ever??
Mr. Benedict and Mr. Curtain…. are… the same
I mean obviously not entirely, given that one is benevolent and kind and the other is… Mr. Curtain
But seriously. Genius old man seeks out children (mainly orphans) to enact a plan. Said children often end up incredibly devoted to his cause and deeply admire him this is a little flimsy
Undoubtedly that’s intentional and is supposed to show the difference between them, like some kind of cautionary tale? “Let yourself be vulnerable and let others help you, lest you turn eeeeviiillll”
I guess that’s where the aforementioned epic contrast comes in. You get Mr. Curtain, strapped into his wheelchair and hiding behind those mirrored sunglasses, terrified (but unwilling to admit it) of ever showing the tiniest hint of vulnerability, vs. Mr. Benedict, who can let himself fall knowing that someone will catch him :’)
Anyhow I have nothing against the parallels, I just think it’s funny
The S.Q. Section
The S.Q. Quarantine Thread so it doesn’t leak out everywhere else <3
I’d like to meet the emo angstlord genius who read this book and decided to make SQ into Dr. Curtain’s son. What in the world
Okay I should probably preface this by saying that I absolutely adore both book!S.Q. and show!SQ with all my heart. Somehow, despite being a completely different character in both mediums, he has managed to be one of the best characters in either and certainly one of my favorites (besides Sticky of course) in the entire franchise, despite the fact that I’ve only read the first book/watched the show so far. I am confident in this statement.
But seriously! How?? Why?? I could probably write a whole other essay about why show!SQ is such an interesting character, and the change works so incredibly well. I’m just. Baffled
Okay, focus. book!S.Q. is such a sweetheart, oh my goodness. Like, 100% one of the most endearing characters in the book. Poor guy. I don’t even know where to start!!
He just seems to be a genuinely good guy at heart, despite being technically one of the bad guys. He’s genuinely happy for Reynie and Sticky when they became Messengers and helped Kate when she “fell” and was concerned about Constance when she looked sick and how he was in that meeting with Mr. Curtain and Martina?!!? aaahhhhghgh ;-; he just wants people to be happy TT-TT
Comparing him against literally every character at the Institute is probably what makes him so endearing tbh. When everyone else is so awful to the kids, it really makes him stand out. Like a cheerful little nightlight in the worst, most humid and rank bathroom you’ve ever been in
It’s kind of pointless to theorize about a book series that’s already concluded (I think?) but. Is the implication of S.Q.’s forgetfulness supposed to be that Mr. Curtain used him in brainsweeping experiments somehow? The timeline probably definitely absolutely doesn’t line up but like. How did he get to being a Messenger being the way he is now, given how cutthroat the process is? And then of course Mr. Curtain keeps him around as an Executive because he’s fun to mess with and presumably his loyalty. I’m very curious as to how their relationship develops in the other books, if at all. Those are probably where the seeds of the “let’s make them family” logic were planted
But wouldn’t it be hilarious if the reason we don’t know what “S.Q.” stands for in the books is that he just. Forgot
Another thing that occurred to me. Given that he and the other Executives were Messengers at some point, what were their worst fears? What is S.Q.’s worst fear?? Inquiring minds need to know
One last horrible little anecdote: I was thinking about book!S.Q. while eating breakfast, as one does, and suddenly it hit me.
I want to believe The Author Trenton Lee Stewart had the name for a character, S.Q. Pedalian, and was like, “Hm! What sort of quirky trait should this young fellow have?” Because, of course, in this style of fiction every character has to have at least one cartoonish or otherwise distinguishing trait to stand out in the minds of children. (For instance, Kate has her bucket, Sticky has his glasses, Constance is angry, and Reynie is Emmett from the Lego Movie)
Anyhow, he looks around the room, searching for inspiration. Suddenly he comes across a jumbo box of plastic wrap. Completely innocuous in design, save for one line of text. 300 SQ FT.
“…large… S.Q. …feet? THAT’S IT!” i’m sorry
Lines & Scenes I Liked
In no particular order!
Sticky quotes Sun Tzu, The Art of War
Evil combination aerobics/square dancing in the gym with the Executives
Everyone being happy at the end :’)
Everyone partying after Sticky reunites with his parents, and later finding Mr. Benedict asleep at his desk from the moment they shook hands :’’)
Literally any scene with Sticky in it
Any time Kate says “you boys” or “gosh”
[“Um, sir?” S.Q. said timidly, raising his hand. “A thought just occurred to me.” / Mr. Curtain raised his eyebrows. “That’s remarkable, S.Q. What is it?”] clown prince of my heart </3
S.Q.’s determined monologue about searching for clues after he bungled up the first time
Literally any scene with S.Q. in it (please refer to The S.Q. Section)
Reynie trying to resist the Whisperer.
[Let us begin. / First let me polish my spectacles, Reynie thought. / Let us begin. / Not without my bucket, Reynie insisted. He heard Mr. Curtain muttering behind him. / Let us begin, let us begin, let us begin. / Rules and schools are tools for fools, Reynie thought.]
NO MORE HURTIN’ WITH CURTAIN
Milligan showing up on the island!!
Remember the white knight hhhhhh
“controle”
A Super Secret Bonus Section
I would be extremely surprised if anyone read through all the way down here lol. Regardless, here’s a little acknowledgements section :D not tagging anyone since I don’t want to bother all of these people
Special shoutout to tumblr blog stonetowns for unknowingly yet singlehandedly demolishing my reluctance to read the books by posting a ton of cute quotes. Thank you for your service o7
Thanks to the two OGs that liked the post I made right before this one, for being my unwitting enablers and for sticking around despite being a) technically an internet stranger (hello!) and b) someone I haven’t spoken to irl in literal years (hey!!)
Last but not least thankz 2 my sister for putting up with me ranting about the book when I first got it and for asking about “CQ” sometimes lol. (i desperately hope you’re not reading this orz)
#the mysterious benedict society#this took me like three days to finish rip#it’s worked though! i feel less of a Mighty Need to think about this stuff constantly now#however!!! today through some conniving i have gotten the Second Book#now I’m at 3 out of 4 infinity stones. muahahaha#was going to include my villain origin story about why i like show!SQ so much but cut it for being too long and irrelevant. however#if the words jeff naomi and Sweet Dreams are Made of These mean anything to you please hit me up. it’s kind of a funny story
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Freed
Even though Mel had been given stick instructions by Mr. Randal to not go into the basement while she was house sitting for him, she had been hearing moans coming from there for the past few nights and felt obliged to check it out.
When she got down there she was shocked to find a practically naked woman writhing on the floor in shackles. Rushing over to her immediately she failed to see the mystical runes engraved on the chains that bound her.
“Are you ok?” She asked the woman who turned slowly with a mischievous smile on her face.
“I am now.” The woman said suddenly grabbing Mel into a deep passionate kiss. Mel fought immediately but the woman was too strong and as the seconds ticked on she found it increasingly pleasurable.
So much so that Mel started pulling the woman into a tighter embrace before realizing too late that she had pulled the woman fully inside her own body.
“Oh no what did I do, what just happened? What’s happening?” She said in worry before she felt her body begin to change and shift. That’s when she heard the voice in her head.
“Mmmm thank you so much for freeing me Mel, we are going to have so much fun together.” The voice purred.
“Who are you, how do you know my name, what are you doing to me?” Mel said as her body reshaped. Her chubby limbs became slim and toned. Her stomach was now flat and strong.
“So inquisitive, I like you. To answer all three, I am Larissa, Goddess of lust, sex and debauchery and you and I are becoming one.” The sultry voice said but this time it came from Mel’s mouth. It sounded foreign yet familiar.
Mel was finding it hard to focus on what was said due to how pleasurable the changes were to her body. Her chest heaved as her tits grew large. Her dark hair became lighter. Memories that weren’t her own flooded her mind.
The memories showed she was a powerful woman worshipped by men and women alike until one man, Mr. Randal tricked her and locked her away. Mel’s previous kind feelings towards him were warping into hate.
“Yesss that worm tricked me. No tricked you! Get out of my body and mind!” Mel screamed as the changes accelerated. Her ass grew firm and round, her face cleared of all blemishes and became perfect.
“You can’t fight it Mel, I can tell deep down you don’t want to either. You love what I’ve turned your body into. Soon we’ll have worshippers and we’ll be loved by all. Don’t you love the sound of that? Here feel how tight our pussy is now and how good it feels.” Larissa purred enticing Mel who couldn’t help but give into the temptation and rub her now smooth pussy and sink her long nailed fingers into it with a gasp.
“Yessss I can be the uber bitch I’ve always wanted to be! It feels so fucking good being this hot and evil! Together we will take over this two bit town and turn them all into devoted worshippers to our beauty. Take my body! Let me devour your mind! We are one!” She moaned giving into the Goddess and climaxing hard causing her eyes to roll back.
With a smirk her eyes returned to normal. There was no longer any conflict in them as she gazed upon her reflection with vain reverence.
“Mmmm it’s good to be free but first we, no I, will have to exact revenge on that snake Mr. Randall. It’s time he recieved a taste of his own medicine.” She smiled to herself leaving the basement for the first time in years.
ONE DAY LATER
Mr. Randall was sitting at the bar of the resort he was vacationing at somewhat worried. Mel hadn’t answered when he called the night before. Of course his mind went immediately to Larissa in the basement but he knew he was simply being paranoid.
“Care to buy a lady a drink handsome?” Said a voice to his right. Turning to look at the source he found his mouth agap at the beauty clad in black latex suddenly next to him.
“Sorry what?” He managed to blurt out.
“Can you buy me a drink? A handsome man like you shouldn’t be sitting all alone.” She said with a lustful smile that nearly made him cum in his pants.
“I, eh, sure please yes that would be nice. Have I met you before?” He asked trying to place why she was suddenly so familiar.
“I don’t think so. Maybe in your dreams.” She said teasingly to him but knowing she would soon haunt his nightmares instead.
“Well what do I call you?” He asked why flagging down the bartender.
“Me? You can call me Marissa.” She said loving seeing the realization cross his face. It was going to be a long night for the two of them.
#f2f#corruption#magic#merging#merge#corrupted merge#bitchification#evil bitch#female possession#cc2020
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i just need to type some things to get them out of my head bc that tends to help. so pls ignore and don't worry about interacting, i don't want attention from this (it's about grief and death and general unhappiness, so. gotta purge that shit.)
i feel like this week i just woke up and decided i'm going to be unhappy. i mean, i didn't decide it, but i haven't tried to fight it. i'ts thanksgiving, which is always kind of blah for me - we don't really do anything, no traveling, no family visits, so it's kind of a non-day in general.
but it's also the first year without my mom. and i didn't realize how much of my holiday associations are around her and what she does for the days. even though we hadn't spent a thanksgiving or christmas together in at least a decade, we would talk all the time leading up to the days and she would always be doing something excessive with my grandpa, and would be texting me updates. but this year it just kind of, happened and is here. huh. thanksgiving. again, a non-day, but because there's nothing happening, i have to make my own distractions so i don't have to think about the huge space that isn't being filled by my mom's existence.
and somehow this ends up with me being angry and bitter about everything? in a reasonable way i am angry at my obnoxious colleague, who keeps sending me messages in his creepy paranoid way and making me uncomfy and i finally had to respond like "i have no idea what you're trying to say, can you just say it outright?" i fucking hate him and i hate his little mafia mentality and his paranoia and buddy sorry but people don't hate me the way they hate you. so that particular anger is justified.
but like. less reasonably. my irl friend group chat is just on and on about all the homemade food they're spending time on and i'm just like "cool i might have some chicken nuggets from the freezer" but also like, little things are pissing me off like one person being like "ugh so this person coming to friendsgiving said she's bringing a store-made pumpkin pie (disgusting)" ok but like not everyone cooks or bakes? and i am not a cook or baker and i hate cooking/baking and it just was this one like little pretentious moment that made me feel like absolute SHIT even though that wasn't the intention. and i'm not gonna be mad at her about it because i know she's just venting too. it's not her fault i have all this emotional baggage around the day this year. she doesn't know that store-bought desserts are a thing my mom and i always got and brought to gatherings. so idk i'm not really angry at her.
i'm just. real fucking sad. i miss my mom.
i think this is all a big part of why i have been immersing myself in all this music blogging bullshit the past several months. the start of this fixation was like right before she got sick. and i've used it as a distraction for so long. and i'm not gonna stop - i love this dumb stuff i yell about. i love projecting my emotions onto people i will never ever meet or interact with.
but holy fuck was yesterday hard. with this particular genre of music, there's always gonna be musicians you like who have died. and i am a person who never makes the mentally healthy choice, so i tend to read about the circumstances of those deaths. and i think part of the reason i've reacted to strongly to eric carr is that there's a lot of overlap. like, his personality feels like a comfort to me, because italian-american from brooklyn (like half my family). and funny, and he loved making people laugh and shit. but then some (def not all) of the details about his death are real similar to what happened to my mom. so reading/thinking about his death makes me think about my mom's death in a way that other musician deaths don't.
so yesterday being the 30th anniversary of his passing, in combination with the day before my first thanksgiving without my mom, just. wow. i did not anticipate the sort of emotions i was feeling. just everything intense. and i kept trying to distract myself which mostly worked. but also at once point i cried so hard and intensely that i felt sick. and i don't know what i was crying about - eric? my mom? every single thing that has hurt in the past forever? the fact that i don't know any healthy mechanisms for dealing with tough emotions? all of it probably.
not sure what i think typing this out will do! maybe if i can figure out why i'm so upset, i can stop it? doubtful. i just wish this were a normal day and not one where all i can think about is the fact that i can't call my mom. i mean at least i never have to do this (have the first thanksgiving without my mom) again? christmas is gonna be rough. my birthday is gonna be rough. everything is just gonna suck for a while. and i know i'll be fine. i'm just not right now?
#please do not talk to me about this#i am just trying to understand and process my weird emotions#like i said this is not a pity plea#let's all move on#long post#(just in case the cut doesn't work)#anyway i'm gonna go watch a damn yankees show and pretend i have no corporeal form#GOD emotions are such a scam i want my money back
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Hi, Connie. I know it's been a while since you did any headcanons and idk if you still do them, but I'm curious of your opinion. I realize the wall is one giant quarantine bubble, but the people are still free to do as the please inside it. How do you think each of the chocobros would handle an Insomnia-wide quarantine like what's going on in most of the world right now? What if one of them got sick (assuming a FFXV equivalent of COVID-19?) How would Regis, as King, take care of his people?
PS: Aparently the Keep Reading line is having some troubles. May appear right under the question (how did it get THERE?) or nowhere at all lol pls forgive tumblr he trying.
HEEEEEEEEEELLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It’s definitely been a while since I did any headcanons, but that’s because school has kept me busy like crazy, and when I have spare time, I put it into my two big fanfics going on (I don’t want people to wait too much!) but I’ll definitely keep doing these, every single one of them, until I finish, even if it takes me years and years <3
The ask prompts are one of my favorite things in the world so of course I’ll keep them going!
HOH
YOUR PROMPT IS SUPER INTERESTING!!!!! AYYYYY, let’s see what this raccoonie brain has there!!
FFXV Insomnia in a quarantine
First things first, the government
Regis, as King:
Regis is going all the way into making sure EVERYONE can stay home.
Regis is going to ask the other countries to lend Lucis money. As in. M I L L I O N S.
“Your Majesty, you ARE aware we’re nowhere half to repaying that debt in a near future?”
“THIS IS A LITERAL PLAGUE WITH NO CURE YET THAT’S KILLING DOZENS SOME OF WHICH THEIR FAMILIES CAN’T SAY GOODBYE TO AND YOU W O R RY A B O UT T HE E C O NO M Y ¿¿¿? ?!??”
Regis has brain and, most importantly, humanity. He’s definitely going to put the country in debt for the next 15 kings is that helps people right now.
Mostly because he’s aware it’s no one’s fault.
Regis is announcing what he’s going to do to keep people safe publicly:
The next three months of any loans are forgiven. Mortgage, rent, water, electricity, and all the public services will be free for the next three months. If you own any debts, be it a house or a little clock, you don’t have to pay on the next 3 months, and instead that amount will be divided into future months in small amounts so it’s recovered in the medium or long run. No one needs to spend one gil in any of the basics, don’t worry about that, it’s covered, government’s got you, SO PLEASE STAY HOME.
Regis is aware that some people can’t stay home because what little they earn is what they spend in basic food; Regis is going to spend lots of the money he burrowed in them.
Regis is going to pay as well to teachers and artists for online classes and entertainment, because he’s aware of the mental/emotional distress people can be in after certain time indoors.
Regis is going to put most the money in the medical and cleaning services.
Regis is going to keep online and phone polls for people to fill in particular cases (I still need to go out because I need to go look after my mother each friday, I still need to go out because I need to go get medicines each certain time at this district) so the Citadel’s intel know best what to do.
Regis is going to make sure to have teams sanitizing public transport and places everyday.
Regis is a no-game man, dammit.
((Regis is the reason Insomnia only needed three months before being free))
Makes sure the media broadcasts not only the death cases, but also and most importantly the healed cases. Not gonna let the media get stupid with this for money or paranoia, no sir
Noctis, as prince
DID YOU THINK HE WAS JUST GOING TO MOP, THIS IS THE PRINCE
(Remember the game tells us he was a damn good prince as in politically? what a bean <3)
Noct was taken more off guard; Regis acted immediately like a (good) madman, Noctis still needed a bit to process it
Noct is who comes up with some ideas that Regis puts into action (the phone/online polls, the online classes, for example)
Noct too manages some of the intel going on during quarentine to see how the city is progressing and how else they can help.
Noctis is in charge of the interviews along the...health minister (?) everyday, while Regis stays at work and intel.
Noctis makes sure to do a livestream each certain days to greet the people, answer questions, or just have a bit of fun, and to remind them to stay home and to keep the spirits up. We know Noct would rather rot in boredome in his sofa because Sleepy Boy, but he knows the effect he has on his people, so he does the livestreams for them; to keep them entertained, informed, and simply to keep them sane.
Noctis came up with the idea of making an app/text service for those that suffer of domestic violence; “staying home” sounds easy to him because he has a huge house and a good family, but he’s aware that not do everyone.
(Putting a keep reading here)
Noctis
Sleeps it away lmao
Honestly Noct doesn’t have much troubles with the whole “stay home” thing. He likes home. He LOVES staying home. LET HIM STAY EVEN AFTER QUARENTINE IS OVER.
Noct has videogames and his bed. You don’t need to tell him twice to stay home.
Noct sleeps most of the day.
Noct decides to not shower everyday.
The only trouble Noct goes through is that his room starts getting super messy everyday and Ignis isn’t going to appear to help him out.
Noctis spends his time doing homework and mumbling about how “teachers didn’t use to give us this much homework until quarentine, this is just their excuse goddammit fuck this shit”
I feel you Noct
Besides that, videogames, trash food, and sleeping.
It’s 9 pm, he’s in pajamas. That he hasn’t taken off in three days.
It’s 6 am and Noct is out of bed. He hasn’t slept since 2 am.
What is this guy’s sleep schedule.
Despite the careless and carefree attitude, Noct still worries. He still has to stay the most informed, as the prince, of the international and national situation, and it sometimes gets stressful.
When Noct sees numbers grow and a gloomy future, he gets stressed but won’t say it; that careless attitude is his way of coping. Like pretending it’s not true.
Noct worries about the poor, too, and the low and working class. He too came up with more ideas along with Regis to keep them safe too and not force them to work while the middle and upper classes stay indoors like it’s not the big deal.
Noct thinks a lot about Prompto. He knows he doesn’t need to go out too much, but he also knows how much of a terribly, horribly emotional distress Prom is in when staying at his house for too long.
Noct takes up on video-phoning Prom, everyday. His best boy can’t be sad, stressed, or messed up, and he’s going to keep him sane and cheer him up everyday.
Noct may or may have not ended up inviting Prompto to spend quarentine at the Citadel with him. He hadn’t finished saying it when Prom was already at the Citadel’s door asking to be sanitized before going in.
If he got sick, everyone around him would be more scared than him LMAO
“OHNOTHEPRINCEISILLHE’SGOINGTODIEIAMNOTREADYFORTHISNOOOOOOOOO”
Noct: so can I skip online school like this?
He’d be looked after with almost paranoia, there’s only two of the Lucis Caelum alive and honestly losing the heir and only one that can have kids at this point to the virus woulnd’t be very epic on history books
Noct IS worried, just pretending he’s not.
Noct is going to avoid Regis LIKE A PRO. He’s going to ask to live somewhere else, will ask to sanitize his room and keep it locked, will ask that Regis gets nowhere near ANY of his belongings. Basically, Noct is going CRAZY over avoiding Regis...so Regis doesn’t catch it :’’(
What a pure bean
Even if Regis tries visiting him, and even if the whole place is sanitized and like a little bubble away of the rest of the world, Noct will still not want him to come inside.
Honestly, this is going to make Regis really, deeply sad and maybe even hurt. He wants to stay positive, but he keeps thinking of what if Noct dies to it, and not only dies, he’d also die without having held him for a last time or seen him.
They meet through the window. They phone each other and just touch through the closed window... :’) </3
Noct knows he may be over protecting Regis, but he’s honestly not going to have it any other way. He has way more than enough watching his old man grow old too fast from the Ring to run the risk of giving him this stupid virus. If he has to make his old man sad in order to keep him healthy, SO BE IT.
Ignis
He’s fine.
He’s just so cool with this.
“Ah, of course. A plague. It was our turn, as was expected.”
...w...what are you talking about, Ignis.
He’s barely impressed.
Master of following instructions, they told Ignis to stay home and THAT he did.
The store? The neighbor? Just an inch outside his main door? NO. THAT’S NOT INDOORS.
It’s not that he’s paranoid, he’s just not bothered by the idea fo not going out and he knows that the more he stays home the faster this will pass that he just. Stays in, sometimes not even looking out the window for a day or two.
Ignis still phones Noct each two days to remind him his room is messy do something because I won’t, or do nothing, the cockroaches will help you with the crumbs and leftovers in a day more.
Ignis isn’t bored. He still has home office and paperwork to do, the poor, young, miserable thing.
In his spare time he likes doing stuff he likes, as he normally didn’t have the time to do.
Ignis is making sure to call the other chocobros to make sure they’re ok. He’s particularly attentive to Prompto.
Boy is having video calls with Gladio because Best Friends.
Ignis attempts to do as your raccoonie; will try to finish two-week worth of his paperwork in one or two days t o have the rest of the time free LMAO
(I hope, unlike me, he’s succeeding at that)
Ignis worries mostly about others and the outside Lucis. He takes up on the advantage of being bros with the prince to suggest something, that Noct can suggest to Regis to make it better for as many people as possible.
If he got sick, he’d attend hospital and not go out until he’s 100% okay AND spent 2 weeks with no fall back into it.
He’d thank the doctors and nurses like every five minutes honestly. Iggy appreciates they’re doing such high risk job, keeps admiring them. Dammit.
He would accept no visits. Is it the prince? tell him to FUCK OFF.
Mostly the throne family Ignis won’t dare visit even after he’s healed.
“IGNIS IT’S OK YOU’VE BEEN FINE FOR A MONTH”
“TALK TO ME WHEN QUARENTINE IS OVER AND/OR THERE IS A VACCINE, GET THE FUCK OFF MY FRONT YARD”
Ignis is not overly worried about the illness. He has stupidly strong defenses and can see himself getting out of this. He worries just what’s normal but keeps spirits up with all the numbers of healed cases.
Go Iggy!
Gladio
Surprisingly, he’s taking this really well.
Gladio’s sort of more scared than the rest at the news; he was so prepared for physical enemies, the idea of an abstract, non-physical one suddenly sweeps him off his feet.
But he handles it well. So long he doesn’t watch the news.
Gladio won’t listen or read the news on the virus; he’s aware of it, he’ll take care and be careful, but he won’t read or hear numbers or updates, he’ll just live this out until it’s over.
Gladio takes his mind off it with indoor exercising, lots of it.
Gladio’s job was mostly physical, so he takes on the advantage that he has nearly no chances of home office to do stuff he likes; mostly, this nerd will drown in history documentaries on KupoTube, will watch the equivalent of Disney and Dreamwork movies, will read like the world is ending, and will take up on online courses.
He likes crafts. Okay? Leave him alone and let him give his baby steps into watercolor painting.
Gladio is video calling Noctis. To force him to exercise LMAO
“OY, NOCT, THIS IS PRE-RECORDED, DO YOU THINK I’M AN IDIOT? COME BACK HERE TO YOUR COMPUTER OR IT’LL BE WORSE”
Gladio is holding back a Desperate-To-Go-Out Iris.
She’s not irresponsible, she just HATES INDOORS LET ME GO OUT IT’LL BE JUST AROUND THE BLOCK
Gladio’s not letting Jared go ANYWHERE
“SOMETHING HAPPENS TO YOU AND I DIE, YOU STAY HERE, I’LL GO BUY GROCERIES AND DON’T YOU DARE GET ANYWHERE NEAR ME AFTER I’M BACK UNTIL I’VE SHOWERED”
Gladdy it’s ok :’)
A bit paranoid when it comes to others, though will still be a bit paranoid about himself.
Gladio is mostly calm about it; just a few times every now and then he’s stressed and a bit too troubled for an easy sleep.
Video calls Iggy every day because Best Friends.
Iggy keeps him sane, the baby :’(
Honestly, Gladio also makes sure that Ignis is ok. Ignis is always looking after all other three, but Gladio is who’s most aware of looking after Ignis. Ignis won’t say it, but he’s probably feeling very lonely after a month indoors, as his family won’t pay much attention to him. Gladio’s making sure to keep him happy, distracted, and in good spirits, and in company.
If he got sick, he’d probably have a very bad emotional time at first.
Gladio would cry and think nearly for sure that he’s dead already.
Not like in drama, he would seriously get sad and be very, very scared :’(
Same than Noct, he wouldn’t let Clarus near him or any of his belongings, nor Jared. Not Iris either, of course, but he worries more for the older men.
Gladio would probably not do very well emotionally in hospital. He’d spend there the necessary time, but then he would probably like most to be in an apartment for himself if available or in his room without letting anyone near.
Gladio will keep thinking of the chances to live or die, of how scary the idea of a virus with no cure is, will get really gloomy and negative on it.
His family try to provide emotional support, but every time they call Gladio just drowns himself in ideas like what their family would do if he died and it just makes him sadder
The doctors and Iggy are what keep his spirits up, to be honest.
The sadness lasts the first days. AFter that, Gladio’s going to handle the ilness like a DAMN WARRIOR
“YOU INJECT THAT THING, DOC, BRING IT ON”
A new treatment and the consequences are unsure? BRING IT ON.
Whatever it is, Gladio’s HEAD IN FOR IT
Baby boy just needed some time to process it. After that he’s just taking it so lightheartedly, even the doctors get cheered up at his bright attitude towards it.
“You’ve progressed on a 1%”
“HELL YEAH ONE PERCENT!!!!!!!!!!! :D”
What a beautiful boy omg
Prompto
This one is the chocobro that REALLY gets hit by quarentine.
Prompto’s not hyperactive, he can stay indoors if they ask him to...the problem is his house.
Prompto gets easily anxious staying at home for too long. He spent his childhood locked away in there, isolated. No parents, no friends, nothing. He stayed locked away in what was the toughest moments of his life. He doesn’t hate indoors, he hates indoors at his house. It brings all of that back.
Prompto’s trying to keep all the lights on to make it less like in his childhood; gets easily guilty remembering the huge debt the King put himself into so he doesn’t have to pay for electricity and now he’s wasting it.
Prompto gets easily anxious around food nowadays. Remembers it was staying indoors doing but eat what got him so fat and lonely.
(Prommy it’s ok, fat is not bad :(( this poor angel )
Honestly Prompto’s so busy emotionally stressing over being indoors at his house that the pandemic in the world isn’t even super concerning, it’s just as if there was a storm outside; he knows it’s bad and that not everyone can stay safe from it, but he’s just worried in his own situation at home.
His parents get to stay indoors with him for home office, which is as good as it is bad.
For some reason it’s not so comforting because it makes Prompto think of how absent they used to me. For some reason, it also IS comforting because unlike his childhood, at least they’re there now.
Prompto tries to make the best out of this and tries bonding with them when they’re not busy.
It actually works <3 They don’t get overly emotional or anything but they get to spend some good time together, watch movies, talk more, etc.
It helps Prom with the food issue that Dad does the cooking this time.
Good as his parents are with him during quarentine, it’s home, like the physical place what keeps gnawing at his emotional health.
Prom is going to try EVERYTHING to keep himself distracted.
Iggy phones him constantly, which helps a lot. Noct videocalls him everyday, which really keeps him up.
Prom is taking BUNCHES of online courses and classes, bECAUSE THIS BOY LOVES DOING AND LEARNING STUFF
Week 6 of quareantine, Prompto has made his own jacket out of kitchen towels. It’s...actually impressive.
If he got sick, he too would be paranoid.
More than sad, Prompto would be openly scared and nervous.
EXTRA
The chocobros as a Four:
They’re having online video parties and meetings.
The four got a pizza each. They’re video meeting, and pretending it’s the same pizza lol
“YOU ATE THE LAST SLICE HOW DARE YOU, I TOLD YOU I WANTED IT!!! >:’‘(”
The guys are showing their quarentine achievements to each other.
“Look, I’ve let my feet nails long because I don’t need shoes anymore and I shaped them like I’m a dragon haha”
“Oi look, I learned a new trick with my yo-yo”
“Look how GREASY my hair is right now haha. what do you mean if I’m attending the national interview later like this, of course I am”
The chocobros are sending each other online courses that they think the others or one of them will like
They’re having one of those online movie in different computers together.
Also multiplayer games because they can.
Ignis wins every time.
The chocobros are playing a 4-members Squad mode in Battle Royale games. Noct and Prom are okay. Ignis is the Pro. Gladio is the bait.
Iris:
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
Cor:
Cor is surprisingly calm about this.
Cor is spending his time meditating.
Cor has barely any paperwork, as his work is mostly physical, so he gets a lot of time free with Regis’ politics for a proper literally-no-need-to-go-out politics. Meditation that is.
Cor is phoning Prompto each now and then, too.
Prompto would answer happily that he’s fine and with no virus. Cor finally once tells him he’s not asking if he’s ok about the virus. Prom needed no more explanation and just said he was ok, if a little sad.
Cor is working out at home.
Cor is getting bored.
Cor is reading, watching series, or meditating, or cooking just for the sake of it.
Cor just has one problem. He’s a workaholic. You give him no work, this man starts slowly having a meltdown and descent into the abyss of madness. He needs to die of stress, how else do you expect him to live?
The first weeks were fine. After the first few weeks Cor starts getting anxious about needing work to do.
Cor you stupid thing
Cor is starting to get distracted in meditation because he keeps getting anxious about working in something.
Cor starts phoning Regis.
“Do you have any paperwork for me now?”
This is every two days.
Regis COULD have given him something. Regis doesn’t. Cor needs to learn to know how to be AT PEACE FOR FUCKING ONCE.
Cor is making paperwork up to work on lol
Cor was diagnosed with the virus. They put the virus in quarentine for its safety.
#ffxv#chocobros#ffxv headcanons#final fantasy xv imagine#coonanswers#coonheadcanons#AYE BOY THIS WAS NICE TO ANSWER#hopefully i can nail some more around these times <3#I'm really trying to turbo do my homework...not working so far but im trying lol#noctis#ignis#gladio#regis#prompto#cor
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Joyride: Ch. 2 - Kit’s Caravan
“Why is it my job to babysit?”
This had been the fourth or fifth time Nord was being complained to by Irro about their little arrangement, and while it went without saying, he was growing just a tinsy bit weary of it. From what he could tell, she had grown impatient and bored in the week that followed, in the week they all bargained for. The one day he promised them proved just as unfulfilling as the last, just as the next day did, then the next, then the next, but today, he always said, today would be the day where he could be careless.
He responded flatly, and with a hint of exasperation, “Because that’s your job.” What more did she expect? He supposed it made sense when he gave it some deeper thought. There must have been a reason for the vixen to blatantly leave behind her sibling. Maybe she sought escape from just that, from babysitting. In any case, he pushed it aside. He could discuss theories with himself later, because for now, Irro still looked irked.
“Okay, but why is it my job to babysit?” Out of all the odd jobs the caravan had to do on the Sandpiercer, she was burdened with the delicate task of caring for the smaller ones, including the more menial of duties, like in her current case, changing out Raysik’s diaper. If one couldn’t tell already, it was the responsibility that she hated the most. Nord could never tell why, nor would he ever ask. It’s anyone’s guess as to the latter.
“Because it’s your job, like it’s Rheana’s job to babysit Lynsol, and it’s Jole’s job to cook, and it’s my job to…” He trailed off. Fortunately for him, his cousin had just arrived to finish off his sentence. How convenient.
“To do everything else. We get it, big guy. Say, I’m starved, you think you could head out and-” And then he was cut off by another, by Raysik.
“Go faster! I wanna playyyy!”
“Yeah, I know, and it’ll go faster if you stay quiet for five more seconds.”
Then the boy started kicking his legs, and then the whining ensued, and then a sharp, “FASTER.” bellowed from him. Irro was next to join the cacophony with an unnecessarily drawn-out groan, and soon, Lynsol with his whimpers; Rheana with her pleading; Jole with his sly comments. Nord’s ears began to wilt, draping over the sides of his cheeks and pinning there to block out the raving chatter. It wasn’t working.
“Please shut up, please.” But in spite of her begging, Raysik continued to wail, which caused her to raise her voice and vice versa. Syllables grew more prolonged, cries grew louder, and Nord continued to shrink.
Nord interjected, “Raysik, pl-” but was cut off again.
“It hurts…”
“I know, honey.”
“Hmph!”
“Stop moving so much!”
Nord tried at it again. “Guys-” Again, he was cut off. Rheana’s added attempts at silencing them fell on deaf ears.
“Too loud.”
“Please quiet down.”
“Faster!”
“I’d be done if you’d stop kicking!”
And again. “Guys, listen to me. Guys?” And the cycle repeated, again. “Please.” And again. “No one’s listening to me--guys!” And again. “Guys!” Until the words eventually blurred together in a cluster of inseparable sounds, until Nord simply couldn’t take it anymore, and it was only with a thunderous stomp and a booming, “GUYS!” that silence finally descended upon the wagon. They all stared back at him with those same starry-eyed looks, waiting and anticipating. He didn’t have to utter a word for the caravan to fall into a chorus of apologies and resignations. He was almost awestruck at how much sway he held, but proud all the same. “Thank you.” And with that, he moved to open the door and head outside, for he was in desperate need of fresh air. He was stopped by the familiar stammer of a vixen though, namely Rheana.
“Where are you going?” She asked.
“Outside. I need some air. I won’t be long.”
She nodded faintly, adding, “Okay.” And not another word was spoken as Nord departed out the door. In fact, it wasn’t until he made it a few yards away that he heard the chatter start up again, though from this distance, he couldn’t tell whether it was good or bad. Either way, it wasn’t his problem right now, and he trusted Jole enough to keep things orderly in his absence, even if the fox was the living incarnate of chaos. He’d freely admit to that too. For now, he needed time to himself, time to think, time to collect his thoughts. Despite how free-rein this trip of theirs was, he rarely got the time to do just that. It was better spent tending to something or doing a chore, the very thing he wanted to escape when he agreed to this. This was meant to be his temporary reprieve! Yet all it had been was another way for fate, or karma, or kismet to kick him in the butt.
He couldn’t complain though. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t grown fond of their little family in the week he had known them, even if they came to odds every now and again. Today, though, felt like the worst of them all, at least in terms of everyone’s physical shape. Lynsol had been feeling ill since the day before, Jole was lacking his usual pep, Irro was bored, Rheana was paranoid, and Raysik was oftentimes impatient. Nord, on the other hand, was lost. This wasn’t the first time he had come outside in the name of retrospection, nor would it be the last, and he could guarantee that. He felt aimless, dull, and he wasn’t at all pleased with how accustomed he was growing with the shackles of leadership. It scared him how much they all looked up to him, how much faith they had in him, because he knew he didn’t deserve it. Deep down, he knew he was both their blessing and their curse.
He hated it. He hated it so much. He just wasn’t sure who ‘it’ should be. Though, as per the usual, his train of thought was derailed once a voice reached his ears, a voice calling his name. His eyes shot up to the sky, in fear that time was once again slipping away. How long had he sat out there? An hour? More? He looked over to Jole--who had just arrived at his side--and opened his mouth, though he found the words had already abandoned him. His cousin, however, was happy to fill the silence.
“Nordyyy,” He started. “You good?” Nord had to wonder how many times those words had been passed between them at that point. Too many times. “I’ve been sensing some off vibes from you.”
“I’m just stressed, is all. We’ve been out here a week, Jole. I don’t--” He stammered. “What do I tell their parents when we get back? Why are we still out here?” A sharp pain hit his gut, like all of his stupidity was just now donning on him. What was he thinking, being so selfish? What was he thinking? He wobbled and shot up onto his feet, sputtering, “We need to go home. All of us. We’ve been out here too long.” And then he pivoted and started walking, but to his surprise, a hand to his shoulder hindered him from going any further. He turned his head to send the most boggled glance at Jole. What was he doing?
“Hey, hey,” He reeled Nord back in, cooing soothingly. “Just take a sit down, big guy. I can tell things have been weighing on you lately, but you don’t gotta worry, ‘cause I got everything handled behind the scenes. It’s the big, deep desert, Nordy. They’d be stupid not to expect a delay or four.” He spoke slowly and enunciated his words, which, to his success (Nord could only guess), got his cousin to start nodding along, for better or for worse. “Remember what this is all about, ‘kay?”
“We’re educating the kits? The authentic caravaneer experience?”
Jole shook his head. “Fun, bud. Fun.”
Despite all the cozy reassurances, Nord remained unconvinced, and with a shrug of his shoulder, continued his traipse toward the wagon. He was stopped again. “What.”
“You’re stressed, I get it,” The ashfur put his hands out in front of him, appearing as understanding as he possibly could. “But you don’t wanna ruin all their fun, right?”
Nord scoffed. He knew that was a lie. He knew that was a lie. “Jole--”
“Shh-shh-shh,” Jole put a finger to his cousin’s lip. “I got an easy fix. You’re tense, you’re worried, and that’s fine, I am too sometimes, but me? I got a solution.” He raised his hand, wiggled his fingers, then dug deep into that overstuffed coat he had grown prone to wearing, before pulling from it the smallest satchel Nord had ever seen. He’d be better off calling it a pouch with buckles and straps, though it’s what was inside that Jole sought to grab his attention with. A crudely-carved pipe that, once he caught a whiff, smelt absolutely rancid. Jole, however, was waving the thing around like it was the key to a Sethraki fortune. “This’ll make you feel a million times better.”
Nord retrieved it from him tentatively. “What is it?”
The ashfur shrugged, as if he himself wasn’t all that sure. “Gift from Dad. He has, like, fifty of ‘em, and he decided to send me one, so…” He paused, itching at the nape of his neck. “Wouldn’t wanna put it to waste, right?” And to push the point, he nudged it further into his grasp, which worked. Somehow.
“How do--” And Jole immediately hushed him, as his hand delved back into his coat and pulled out a little sack--a packet--which he tore open and slipped its contents into the bowl of the pipe. It appeared to be an array of milled herbs and plantlife. Nord couldn’t help but wonder what the end goal here was.
“And then,” He paused and held up a finger, before bolting off back to the Sandpiercer, where he snatched up a twig--of all things--and held it to the lantern light to set the tip ablaze. Once he brought that back, to Nord’s sheer confusion, he held it to the bowl and set the flame to the herbs. Nord recoiled in disgust. That did NOT smell fragrant. “Easy as that.” Jole popped a grin. “Now, you smoke it. Puff-puff.”
His counterpart had never quirked his brow higher, though he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t intrigued by the prospect. Nord shuffled the device awkwardly in his hands, uncertain as to how he should take it, but with Jole’s guidance, he got the proper hold eventually. “Puff-puff,” He repeated, bringing the mouthpiece to his lips. “Puff.” And he proceeded to do the exact opposite and inhale, hacking and sputtering once the mix of herbs went the opposite way. Jole nearly slapped him upside the head for that one.
“Puff.”
“Right. Sorry.”
And he did just that. Puff. Smoke soon trailed from his nostrils as his shoulders began to sag, a distant, “You feelin’ it?” catching his ear. For the first time, he felt relaxed. He was amazed! What kind of magic was this? “What?” He stuttered, though he found the word only played in his head, or if it did come out, it was faint. Time was moving faster, the world was spinning--it was both a dream and a nightmare. The pipe itself had left his hand, before finding itself there again but a second later. Puff.
Puff.
Nord couldn’t have told anyone in full confidence how long he’d stood there, in that spot, with pipe in hand. It could have been as little as five minutes, or as long as a day. He wasn’t sure. But, when he eventually returned from semi-consciousness, he found that he was alone again, with delicate footsteps approaching close behind him. He didn’t dare to catch a preemptive glance at whatever was coming to greet him, and it was anyone’s guess as to why.
“Hey,” they said. It was Irro, unexpectedly. “You’ve been out here a while.”
He didn’t find that as off-putting as he probably should have. He asked for this the minute he took Jole up on his offer. “Yeah,” he replied lazily, his movements sluggish. “Just needed some me time, I guess.” With that, he left them at an awkward and wordless impasse. That is, until his eyes landed on the pipe still planted in his hands, when shame and guilt took hold. He couldn’t hide it anymore. “Hey,” Irro looked back at him, wide-eyed. “Don’t be like me. Okay?”
She turned her gaze elsewhere when he said it, placid-like. She probably wasn’t in the mood for a heart-to-heart, but she was here, she had made that decision, and now she faced the consequences. She shrugged. “Dunno why. You seem kinda,” She made a so-so gesture. “Prime example-ish.”
Nord chuckled half-heartedly. “Do as I say, not as I do.” And that, too, squeezed a titter out of the vixen. Not a word more was exchanged between them, but he didn’t mind. He was satisfied with the company. He--and he assumed she too--fell into a fit of admiring the sunset, a sight he too often missed, just as it was descending past the horizon. It was nice. This was nice. “--Irro?”
And she was already gone.
♦
To no one’s surprise, the day that followed didn’t prove any more thrilling than the last, nor the next, nor the next. A week turned to two, weeks turned to a month, a month turned to six, and months turned to a year. A year. A year away from home and family, a year Nord had kept the children under his care away from their mothers and fathers. A year turned to more drags of the pipe; it turned to more of Jole’s stupid reassurances; it turned to more impatience, paranoia, and boredom, but on a lighter note, it turned to stronger bonds; it turned to more days spent as a family; it turned to memories that Nord could enjoy well into his golden years. In time, a year turned to four.
Nord had lost count of the days. With each sunrise and sunset, he had to remind himself it wasn’t the one from the night before. Sometimes he’d forget to do so and lose a day, and those added up very quickly. He’d often lose weeks at a time if there wasn’t something particularly memorable that happened in them, which didn’t happen often, because little changed from day to day. Today was no exception.
Here he sat, aboard the Sandpiercer, watching the vulpera mingle with one another, and awaiting something, anything, to happen. Though it excluded the company of Jole and Lynsol, the others did their best to entertain him, with some being more fervent than their peers. Rheana--bless her soul--could talk his ear off all she wanted, but her efforts were for naught. To Nord, it was but another day, where nothing ever changed.
It was unsettling. The deeper he fell into his own head, the more the voices around him dimmed and the less physical response Rheana received. Then came the abrupt hammering at the door, and his senses were instantly reignited.
“We got a big problem here!”
♦
Jole had never been one for theatrics. Of course, he had never been all that good at telling the truth either! But, if there’s one thing he was ace at, it was coming up with bizarre and ludicrous games for the whole family to enjoy. They came in all variants, all styles of play, and while he had his preferences, his utmost favorite of them all was Valley Hopping. It was a simple enough game to play: you picked an opponent, you picked a valley, you picked a starting spot and a finish line, then you met up, you clapped hands, and you ran. The best part? It didn’t matter who won the race. It only mattered how much stuff you managed to grab along the way, as that’s how points were tallied. Plantlife, herbs, metal scraps, whatever one could spot mid-dash. And today, that’s exactly the game he wanted to play.
Step One: Pick an Opponent. Easy enough. There was no one around that he was particularly on board with, or vice versa. More so vice versa. The siblings had some steady vibes, but one was really annoying and the other hated his guts for whatever reason. She’d say otherwise when she got the chance, but Jole saw right through her. That’s another thing he was ace at. He was ace at a lot of things. Was he getting off topic? He was getting off topic. There was the other vixen, but she was subpar competition, and Jole was looking for something fresh, something exciting. Lo and behold, in came that little, dappled bundle of sunshine. Lyn, Lynnie, Lynman, Lynster, Lil’ Lyn, Lynsol. Bingo.
“Lynnie!”
“Mm?”
He stuck out a hand. “Wanna go Valley Hopping?”
“Me? Really?” He already looked giddy. Jole’s handiwork, no doubt. “Oh, but,” And then it evaporated. Jole would have scoffed-- “Nordy said I had chores to do today. He says I gotta start being more independent.” He scoffed. Lynsol, true to his nature, took notice of it and elaborated, “But I wanna go! I can do stuff after.” And there came that smile. Who could say no to that smile? Not that Jole was planning on saying no anyway.
“Not a worry, Lynman, I’m sure the big boss won’t mind. We’re here to have fun, aren’t we?” He gave the boy’s shoulder a light punch, which was met with a similarly light titter. That’s one step down.
Step Two: Pick a Valley. This step might as well have been a formality. Vol’dun was practically made of valleys. Instead of doing the thing Nordy might have done, like pull out a whole-ass map to pencil down the approximate locations and the threat of the local wildlife and the Sethrak activity in the area, Jole was going to do a thing called “winging it,” which as you may have guessed, was another thing he was ace at. All the same, he and Lynster wandered around the desert for quite some time before landing upon a quaint little canyon in the middle of nowhere. It wasn’t his go-to, but it would do.
The ashfur swung his sack onto the ground, announcing with prolix, “Allllriiiiiight! Now all we need to do is pick a start and finish,” Step Three, by the way. “and we’ll be more golden than a troll king buried in a family tomb. I sayyyyy, here to there!” He pointed vaguely. “Easy-peasy.”
Lynsol looked unsure of what to do with the jumble of words that just escaped Jole’s lips, but damn it if he didn’t try anyway-- “Okay!” He paused, briefly looking off into the distance, supposedly where Jole had pointed. He was far off, but Jole gave credit where it was due. The boy looked back. “Where?”
Jole waved his hands dismissively. “Details, details! Just follow me and stop when I stop.”
“Oh, okay!” Lynnie’s eyes darted off elsewhere, before darting right back. “What if I get in front of you?”
He would have scoffed if not for-- You know what? Fuck it. He scoffed. “First of all,” He rose a pointer finger. “You won’t. Trust me,” then rose a middle finger. “And second of all, it doesn’t matter who wiiins! C’mon, y’know this. Just matters how much stuff you grab along the way.” He flicked at Lynman’s ear. Playfully, obviously. In any case, he looked more than on board.
Step Four: Clap Hands. Technically Step Five, but they had already “met up,” per se, so they were allowed to skip around. Plus, it was his game, so he could do what he wanted. It’s not like having fun was meant to be orderly. Was he being bitter? He was being bitter. After a quick readjustment of his vibe, he led his opponent to their starting spot, as it were, before arching low enough that his chest would meet his thigh and his knuckles would meet the sand. He extended his hand out at his side, where it would soon meet the flat of Lynnie’s.
“Remember, it’s a test of perception, not speed.” He probably didn’t know what ‘perception’ meant, huh? Jole elaborated, “Who can eye gooder.”
“Okay!”
“No looking back, no backtracking. Oh, and mind the hornets.”
“What?”
“OKAY. ONETWOTHREEGO.”
And with their resounding clap, they set off into the canyon, with that previous sound becoming completely overshot by the sound of their footsteps, and soon enough, the heaving of their breath, though that may have just been Jole. Did the vigor of youth count as cheating?-- Whoa. He nearly missed that clump of star moss. Keep it cool, keep it frosty.
Running, and running, and running. He couldn’t waste even a moment to look over his shoulder to see the state of his competitor. It’s not like he could have overtaken him already! This was the kid’s first time playing, and there were a lot of tactics one had to learn to--
And there he was, like some mystical, blazing arrow that had been shot from the bow of a Loa. Did Loa have bows? Jole had never been too poetic-- FOCUS. And so he began to speed up, his feet slamming into the dunes like it had just insulted his mother, which, admittedly, wasn’t all that good of a simile, because Jole wouldn’t have cared. Worse yet, now they were heading into the brush and briar, which meant thorns to jab at their toes. At the very least, he was ahead of Lynster again, though he was deeply regretting not opting for his go-to. He knew that valley inside and out! He would have had the advantage! When he asked for something exciting and something fresh, he wasn’t asking to lose.
Not that he was going to lose, of course.
And that mentality stuck! That is, until Jole found that he had collided with a branch. WHAM! But as quick as he collapsed, he ascended back to his feet. A distant, concerned, “Are you okay?” rung out behind him, probably from Lynnie, definitely from Lynnie. He called out in reply, “NO BACKTRACKING.” which received an even quieter, “Right! Sorry!” in turn.
He repeated the process again, over and over, in an almost mindless fashion. What he thought to be absolute centuries of droning and braindead collection turned out to be, to his surprise, a singular minute. He blanked. Did he just pull a Nordy? He wouldn’t be given the chance to process that, as he was tugged back into reality by the click-clacking of… something. He could have stopped running to investigate, but therein lied the issue. It required stopping. It’s not like he had to pin it down. It could have been something as simple as the rustle of their knapsacks, which it no doubt was now that he thought about it.
Still, that gut feeling wasn’t going away, and it was rare that his gut feelings were wrong. The click-clacking grew louder, so loud that it crept into the realm of familiarity. He knew exactly what he was hearing, yet at the same time, he was denying it. A contradiction unto himself. His first instinct was to keep running, but then he heard the grunts, the panicked cry, and then one, sharp, “JOLLY!”
And that finally convinced him to grind to a halt. He huffed out a breath, then weakly pivoted on his heel. His knees were numb. Everything was numb. But none of that mattered when the adrenaline took hold. He would remember vividly what he saw that evening: that same dappled bundle of sunshine batting away at a hornet--the ugliest one he had ever seen--with a twig. Maybe they were all that ugly. He had never gotten this close to one before, willingly or not.
The ashfur watched as the hornet’s stinger, like some disgusting, throbbing quill, sunk into Lynsol’s back for the briefest moment, before fight or flight took the reins. Jole barreled into the fray, hefting up a branch two times his size and swinging it at the thing. Never had he been so pleased to hear the crunching of a carapace than in that moment, but he couldn’t stay long. Despite every muscle in his body pushing him to finish the bug off, he knew he had to do the wise thing, just this once.
And that’s just what he did.
He hoisted the boy into his arms and ran. He ran like he never had before, which may have been a lie. He was only vulperan, so he had his limitations, but, you know, dramatic narration and all. This isn’t to say he wasn’t trying, he really was trying. He really was. It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t want it to be his fault. It wasn’t. It wouldn’t be.
“I’ve gotcha, little guy, don’t worry.” He didn’t sound all that certain, which isn’t to say that he wasn’t. He definitely was! He just didn’t sound like it. “Just hold on for me, ‘kay? ‘Kay. Alright.”
He hadn’t gone too far, thankfully, so it wasn’t long until the Sandpiercer was in sight. He wasted no time in colliding with the door and banging on it relentlessly. Between his panicked breathing and his incoherent cursing, he sputtered out,
“We got a big problem here!”
♦
When Nord threw open the door, he was greeted with a relative who fancied himself a visionary, carrying the limp body of a dreamer. In all his life, in all the terrible, abhorrent news he had seen and been given over the years, in all the times his heart had sunk, it had never sunk so fast as when his eyes landed upon the aimless, dull blues of Lynsol’s, staring back at him pleadingly. His hand had never flown up so quickly, and he had never pointed at Rheana with such fury before. His voice had never bellowed so loudly, nor had it ever sounded so angry. His suggestions became demands and his propositions became orders. In an instant, he had changed. In an instant, the gravity of the situation had broken him.
As soon as he received the rug he had asked for, he swept himself outside, laid it on the ground, and barked, “Put him down on this!” which his cousin was more than happy to oblige. His hands landed on the boy just as the opportunity arose, checking every place one could tell a pulse from, repeatedly, as his mind lay fragmented somewhere between paranoia and blind hatred. This time he wouldn’t let the seconds slip away from him, because he was going to count each and every one of them. His eyes shot back up at Jole. “What did you do.”
The ashfur looked disturbed, to say the least, but as per his nature, he had the divine ability to evaporate his own tension as if it were as easy as flipping a switch. “I dunno. He was out playing in the canyon, I think. I didn’t know what he was doing, but I looked away for one second and I found him like this.” He rose the boy’s head, high enough to gesture to the venomous wound that lay in his back. The rampant anxiety clung harder. “Sting, I could guess.” He shrugged. Shrugged. He wasn’t taking this seriously at all.
“Well, did you clean it? He should be fine if you disinfected the wound. You cleaned it, right?” Nord’s breathing only grew further out of pace, while Lynsol’s began to waver.
Jole paused. “I, uh, I didn’t find him soon enough. I didn’t know what to do--” He choked.
“Then it’s infected. It’s infected.” He muttered a swear. “There’s an antidote. It’s the,” He clapped his hands together in a desperate attempt to reignite his memory. “The stalk, near the caves, to the north. Get some, quickly.” He waved off the ashfur, but he did not leave. He blanked at him. “Jole, go!--”
“Do you want me to die too?! I can’t go! It’s almost night, the Sethrak will--”
“He’s going to die, Jole! Are you just going to stand there and gawk while you could be, I don’t know, TRYING?” Nord’s eyes fell back down to the boy, who now clung to his arm. He clung back, if not with a tinge more force, before his attention shot back up to the ashfur. Why was he still here? “JOLE.”
“I CAN’T DO ANYTHING.”
Nord’s heart beat within his chest faster than it ever had. He felt faint. Every solution he calculated in his head lost its legs at an unprecedented dead end, everything he and his merry band of children could do would do next to nothing. What could he do? Why didn’t he go back? Why didn’t he say no?
There was a huff of breath that reached his ears--Lynsol’s--that caused him to envelope the boy with his own body. The rise and fall of his chest staggered, as Nord desperately tried making out the words he was supposedly being told.
“Can’t breathe.”
“I can’t breathe.”
Nord muttered back, “It’s okay, Lynnie, shhh… It’s okay.” as he laid him back down while remaining just as close. His hand went to frailly claw at his throat to emphasize the point, the truth that Nord wished to do anything but accept. “Remember when I said you’d help us all learn how to keep our chins up? Well, you did it, Lynnie. We need you to keep doing it. I need you.” And in that single space of time, his surroundings became just as unclear as when he took a drag of the pipe. The world seemed to slow, solely to trap him in this one torturous moment. He couldn’t hear any other voice, any other breath, besides the boy’s, not even his own. He stared into the eyes of happiness itself, of sunshine, of hope. He stared into those eyes just as they began to flicker. Every word he ushered he couldn’t hear; every minor reassurance fell on deaf ears. He was all that mattered. Why didn’t they see that? He wanted to scream, to berate, to separate the wall, but he, too, was limp, just as that little bundle of sunshine was.
Lynnie.
And then the light died.
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Beware Of The Dogs - Part III
(A/N - here she is lads, part 3 of BOTD, there will be one more part after this! sorry for any mistakes i am half asleep and cba to double check everything. pls let me know if you enjoyed it, you are my world.)
Part I
Part II
The winter was cold, and you often felt as if the frost might swallow you whole, but one look at Alfie and your heart thawed and melted into a puddle. The weeks passed by quickly, a mixture of tangled bodies, muffled giggles, soft touches and Alfie made sure to lay his claim on you like footprints of pure snow. You were entranced by one another, devouring each other in a sickly sweet way that no one who knew Alfie would ever believe, he’d bark orders and pistol whip a man at work, then come home to you and touch you like your body was made of glass, like you were the most precious thing that he had ever seen.
You were tentative at first, dipping your toe into the waters of your relationship, timid and apprehensive, not wanting to accidentally push him away. You had never done anything like this before, and you were treading lightly, not wanting to break the surface and plunge into the deep, losing everything you held dear. You spent weekdays working with your head down, trying to avoid the distractions of a certain man that lingered in your brain for far longer than he should. Alfie told you his house was always open for you, and you sincerely believed him, but you couldn’t stop the nagging thought inside of you that you should keep your distance for a while.
Alfie was not a man of grand gestures or sentences that weren’t filled with expletives, but he realised that he liked having you around, he loved seeing you on a Sunday after you had spent the night and he had to rush to the office to sort whatever shit had gone wrong in his absence. He loved coming home when the sky was still blue and you were curled in his armchair, wearing nothing but his shirt, Cyril curled at your feet, the whole room smelling of you. He loved the way you looked at him when he came through the door, happiness and concern in your eyes, asking him about his day, genuinely caring about his answer. He could tell you were hesitant, the way that you declined his offers to stay the night on a working day, how on a Sunday you would take everything home with you, no toothbrush left beside his as a token of your presence, no clothes in his drawer that made his smell like wildflowers and honey.
The next Monday as you strolled into work with tired eyes and a soft smile, you rummaged in your pockets for your notebook, frowning when you instead pulled out an envelope. Inside was a key with a note attached, scrawled with broken handwriting that simply said,
“In case you miss Cyril.”
The gift was so small but the gesture was so grand, a token that contained an unspoken promise, that he wanted you around, and he trusted you.
He got antsy quickly, his own worries prickling into his skull like bullets. He was paranoid, convinced that someone would take away the treasure he had finally found. He tried walking you home after work every day, leaving his workers watching with curious glances as their boss who usually stayed until well after midnight was rushing out as soon as the clock struck five. He’d wait outside your office, far enough away that he wouldn’t be noticed by prying eyes, but close enough that he could observe the street and those who walked it. The first few times it was sweet, tugging on your heart strings that he cared enough to escort you back to your flat, but it wasn’t long before you were greeting him with an exasperated smile and a roll of your eyes.
“Alf, I’m a big girl, I can walk home by myself.” You’d say, standing on your tiptoes and planting a syrupy kiss on his jaw in an attempt to disarm him, letting him know you weren’t upset but remaining firm on your viewpoint.
“No girl of mine, right, is going to walk the fucking back streets of London alone.” He replied, trying to stop himself from buckling at the tiny kisses you were smothering him in, he had barely been without you for eight hours and yet he craved you like a cigarette. He tried his best to stay unwavering, knowing that it would be completely counterproductive in his attempts to keep you safe and out of sight, but he couldn’t help the hot desire to take you into the back alley and have you up against the wall.
“Alfie.” You sighed, running your fingers across his face and cradling his jaw so that your eyes met, “You’re so thoughtful, but I don’t need an bodyguard every night. Besides, it’s hardly the back streets, this is one of the safest parts of town.” You knew that you were being stubborn, but you wouldn’t budge, you finally found some freedom and you weren’t going to go back to being followed, you needed your independence, and even your feelings for Alfie wouldn't change that.
He grumbled something that you couldn’t quite comprehend but you took it for a begrudging agreement, watching the way his hat tilted with the movements of his head. You kissed him in thanks, smiling when he pushed back against you playfully, reminding you of a child that didn’t get their own way.
“But you better call me OK? When you get in, to let me know that you haven’t bloody tripped on the ice or fallen down a drain or something.”
You rolled your eyes once more, nodding sarcastically at his relentlessness.
You’d work on it.
————————————————————
You fell into a routine, something so beautifully romantic that it almost made you nauseous. You laughed more than you had in years, drank rum until you saw stars and talked about everything and nothing until the sun rose and the birds whistled. The streets belonged to him and now so did you, his power and authority evident whenever he walked into a room, and you admired him, longing for the sparks that lit up your skin whenever he touched you.
On Sundays he made bread. You’d watch him, legs curled up and hazy eyes following him under the morning sunlight. He’d make thick sourdough and rich rolls filled with and seeds he’d purchased from the foreign market by the river. He rarely spoke, history hands moving expertly, kneading and folding and rolling the dough, it seemed so intimate, a side of him that he never showed the outside world, and you felt privileged to witness it.
The soft glow of daybreak would illuminate his features, making the usually burly man look soft and gentle, something that made your stomach do cartwheels. The kitchen would be filled with the smell of sweet and comforting warm bread, flour covering his hands and the surfaces, white fingerprints like marks in the snow. When it was done he’d tear off the dough with his hands, smothering it with jam and butter and handing it to you, oblivious to the teasing glint in your eye.
He’d make enough for the whole week, wrapping loaves in brown paper for you to take home, your whole flat smelling like him and tantalising warmth. You’d smile to yourself at lunchtime as you sat behind your small desk, Alfie ingrained in your mind as you took a bite of your sandwich, thoughts of him occupying your days rather than the paperwork that sat incomplete beside you.
By Saturday, whatever was left would be fed to the ducks in Regent Park. You’d stand by the edge of the pond, tearing the crust from the stale loaves and tossing them towards the mallards and geese that danced by your feet. Alfie would watch, a wide smile gracing his face as he watched you squeal like a child when a swan lunged towards you, ivory coloured neck thrusting towards the goods in your palm. Cyril would get overexcited, ignoring Alfie’s stern words and your pleas as he leapt into the water, the birds scattering and cawing in distress, icy droplets soaking you both. Alfie would pull you under his arm, laughing into your hair and swearing at the dog that bounded by your feet once again, shaking his wet fur and drenching the both of you.
You’d return home, your clothes wet and your feet cold, barely pulling your boots and stockings off before Alfie hoisted you over his shoulder, not caring about the inevitable pain on his lower back that would come tomorrow, only focused on dragging you upstairs and having you underneath him and warming you both up. The fire would flicker and the logs that had been left in the damp would hiss and tear from the heat, crackling like gunfire around the small room. You’d be in his arms, skin to skin, his fingers tracing the length of your spine, your chin resting on his torso.
You covered apple slices with cinnamon and sugar, baking them into rich pies and eating them cross legged by the fireplace, your head in the crook of his neck. Mornings were filled with sweet coffee and baked bread and the evenings were spent with drives at sunset, the city lights illuminating your skin, his cockney accent rough in your ear, his laughter infectious. You felt like nothing could dull your high, the rush that overtook you like a wave, dragging you under the surf, Alfie the reason that you felt electricity in your veins, but at as always, something shattered the perfect bubble you had created, shards of glass lying at your feet.
It was a Wednesday, and you were in Alfie’s cottage having spent the better part of a week curled up with him already, any attempts to go back to your flat were fruitless as Alfie would pull you back under him, mumbling excuses that were pitiful but more than enough to persuade you to stay. You were making a thank you dinner, using up whatever baffling ingredients Alfie had in his cupboards and some fresh meat and vegetables you had purchased on your way home from work. You were slicing carrots, careful not to nick your finger as you simultaneously studied a cookbook, and tried to keep Cyril from stealing any stray food.
You heard the moan of the front door and the familiar clatter of boots on the tiling, your heart pounding at the noise.Cyril immediately left your side, bounding into the hallway to greet the man he loved the most. You heard the commotion, the dogs soft whines and Alfie’s appreciative grunts, the thump of his cane on the floor as he walked through the foyer.
“Dove?”
“In here!” You called, glancing quickly at the clock, “You’re home early!” You felt his presence and spun around, your eyes meeting.
“Yeah, I’ve had a shit fucking day right, but er...” He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close, his pupils flicking to your lips, his mouth upturned, “It’s a lot better now.” You started to roll your eyes at his cheesy line but couldn’t as he dragged you closer, pressing his lips onto yours, his hands roaming over your body. The feel of you enough to temporarily wipe the anger from his brain, allowing himself moments of peace from his battling thoughts.
You pushed him off you quickly as you heard the pot overheat, flames rising and water bubbling from the surface. You swore, turning down the gas and grabbing a cloth, wiping down the counters and trying to restore order in your once peaceful workstation. Alfie watched as you rummaged around the pantry, and he pulled the lid from the pot, looking down at the potatoes boiling inside.
He clicked his tongue, “What’s all this, pet?” He asked, a teasing hint to his words.
“It was supposed to be a nice dinner, but someone came home early and ruined the surprise.” You said, swatting him with the tea towel in your hands.
“Isn’t that sweet.” He winked in jest, but you knew that he was beyond grateful for your gesture “Well, it smells fucking good, right, you ever thought of becoming a chef?” He asked playfully, swiping a carrot and dodging as you went to hit him again.
“I tried, but all the restaurants turned me down,” You teased, “I was far too overqualified.”
He laughed, resting at the table, legs askew and shirt untucked, a stark contrast to how he left in the morning. You continued cutting, the rhythmic sound of the knife was just enough to ease the tension in the air. You could see the cogs in Alfie’s head whirring, and noticed the psoriasis on the sides of his face were inflamed, something that you had come to realise happened from stress.
“What’s got you all in a tizzy?” You murmured, turning to look at him, his features illuminated in the dim light.
“Ah, it’s nothing.” He cleared his throat, extending a leg and playing with the salt shakers on the table, letting a few grains hit the ground like fallen snow. “Just these stupid fuckin’ gypsies right, think they fucking run the joint.”
Your heart stopped, feeling like all your blood had drained from your body, like you had completely deflated inside. You regained your composure and mentally slapped yourself, inhaling and exhaling quietly, trying to regulate your breathing. There are plenty of “gypsies” around, you told yourself, drilling it into your skull, pleading to the universe and hoping it wouldn’t be so cruel.
Alfie was oblivious to your inner turmoil, too caught up in his own anger to notice you quietly steaming, “Coming in to my territory, acting like big fucking men?” He laughed, “And you wanna know the worst of it?”
You let out some kind of strangled noise of agreement, covering it with a cough, focusing on cutting and slicing, cutting and slicing, anything to take you away from the conversation.
“Tommy fucking Shelby, wanting to do business with me? Ha! What a fucking liberty!”
The knife went through your finger.
You yelped under your breath, watching crimson bubble and pool onto the chopping board, the stinging relentless, but no match for the dread rising in your stomach. You hissed and covered the wound with a tea towel, wrapping it so tight that your fingers grew numb. Alfie’s head perked up at the distraction, spotting the blood travelling down your hand and he jumped at the sight, standing next to you in an instant.
“Oh fuck. What the hell happened, Pet?” He covered your palm with his, his eyes full of concern and surprise and you fumbled out an excuse, practically tripping over your words.
“The knife slipped. I don’t know how it happened but the knife...” You stopped, and Alfie pulled you over to the table, sitting you down on a chair and gently inspecting the gash on your hand.
He clicked his tongue, yanking on the chain around his neck and looking down at you through his glasses, under any other circumstances you would have giggled at the sight, but right now you just felt sick.
“Right, well. The good news is I won’t have to amputate, but the bad news is it looks pretty fucking deep, no worry though dove, I’ve got some bandages and whatnot somewhere, I’ll get you fixed up, good as new.”
His fingers clasped around your face, gently pulling you to look at him, you tried your best to act nonchalant but your entire body had lost feeling, you felt like you were watching yourself through the window. He dragged his forefinger across your cheek, stroking it softly and looking at you with round, caring eyes.
“Bloody hell, Pet. You look peaky. Let me get you some chocolate or something, how about some rum?”
You nodded, watching as he disappeared into the hall, rummaging around and muttering under his breath. Cyril approached and laid his head on your lap, sighing and nudging you with his nose. You stroked him absentmindedly, clenching your wounded hand and feeling the blood trickle down your palm. The pot bubbled and hissed, overflowing with hot water once more, but you left it to boil over, your mind completely elsewhere.
That night you hardly ate, Alfie watching you like a hawk as you pushed peas around your plate, flattening them under your fork and watching them explode. You had completely lost your appetite, your mind filled with dark clouds, panic settling in your gut. Alfie asked if you were alright, and you once again lied to him, saying that work had been overwhelming and that the sight of blood made you feel faint. He accepted your words but you could tell he didn’t quite believe them.
He told you to stay, he wanted you next to him so he could check you were okay. You pushed back, hazy excuses that you had an early start and you needed a good nights sleep, Alfie just swallowed your words, nodding his head. He drove you home, one hand on the wheel and the other just grazing your thigh, as if he was anchoring himself to you ever so slightly, not willing you to drift into the tide that was fast approaching.
You kissed him, softly, on the side of his mouth, not allowing yourself the maddening feel of his lips against yours. You pulled away quickly and he felt as if he had been scalded, your eyes met for the briefest of seconds but you looked away, ashamed.
“Goodnight, Alfie.”
With that you left, bundling yourself in your coat and darting up the stairs to your flat, not looking back because you knew it would break your heart. You slipped into your home, bare and cold and empty from the days you had spent beside Alfie rather than in your own bed. You crawled under your duvet and pulled it over your head, letting a tsunami of warm hot tears rush over your face, leaving you gasping for breath.
Alfie looked at your front door, his foot hovering over the pedals. His tongue was between his teeth, biting down just hard enough that he could start to taste metal. He wondered if he should follow you, bang on the door and demand for you to speak to him, not leaving until he got the truth and you were back under his arm. He dealt with problems methodically and systematically, he knew how to work as a business man, and there was rarely a puzzle he couldn’t solve. But now he was dealing with emotions, trying to stop the flare up of anger that usually approached when something wasn’t going his way, trying to navigate the magnetic pull you had forced on him, and for the first time in a long time he felt out of his depth, unsure of his next move. He pressed down on the clutch, the car rolling forward, the headlights shining on the cobbles.
Fucking women.
—————————————————————
For the next few weeks, you avoided Alfie like the plague. You loathed yourself for your actions, you knew you were being pathetic and childish and cruel, but it was so much easier than facing him.
Tommy had been here. In London. In Camden.
He had sat across the table from the man whose bed you had been sleeping in for the past few months, and had tried to make a business deal with him. Everywhere Tommy went trouble followed, which meant that now Alfie was going to be swept up in the storm that seemed to only occur around your family.
Above anything else you wanted to tell Alfie the truth. He deserved that more than anything, you knew that, but the words crumbled before you could ever get them out, even when you were practising in front of a mirror. The truth was, no matter how you explained your actions to Alfie, if any of your brothers caught wind of the fact that you were in London, you would be driven back to Birmingham before you could even blink. If anyone found out who your siblings were, what they were capable of, they would use you as a way to get to them, the same way they had threatened to your whole life.
You couldn’t risk Alfie getting hurt because of you, fraternising with a Shelby would put a target on his back and a bullet in his head. You didn’t care about yourself, you had been dealing with your own bounty since the Blinders had been formed, but you refused to let him get dragged down with you. There was also the nagging thought that if you came clean to Alfie, he would accuse you of being a mole or a rat, accuse you of working undercover for your brothers and simply using him, and the mere thought made your eyes prickle with tears.
You couldn’t tell him the truth because it was too dangerous but it also wasn’t fair to keep lying and stringing him along like some kind of puppet. So you did the only thing that made sense to you, which was to distance yourself from the man you were falling for, and once again you felt utterly, entirely alone.
You arrived at work early, surviving off of coffee infused with milk and sugar and you made sure you were the last to leave, only when the sky was dark enough that you could hide in the shadows. You only saw him in the flesh once, waiting outside of your flat after five days of no contact, you darted back to the office, inviting your friend Mary out for dinner, spending the night at hers instead. You were a coward. The phone had finally stopped ringing, you didn’t sit on edge behind your desk wondering about surprise visits or impromptu meetings. You knew that it was easier if he hated you, but that didn’t stop the ache in your gut at the feeling of him not by your side.
It was a Wednesday when you noticed things were amiss. You were playing with your food, peeling off the crust from your toast as you sat curled up on your windowsill, cold feet pressed against the radiator. Watching the stars was a distraction from the pity party that seemed to happen whenever you were alone, and you traced the constellations with your finger, your eyes growing blurry and you dragged them to the pavement to try and clear them,
You noticed the car again.
It had been there since you had left for work in the morning. It wasn’t one of the other tenants, all of their vehicles were lined up haphazardly below, and this car seemed far too swanky for the postal code you lived in. You moved slightly out of view, shielding yourself behind the curtains as you looked down. You could just about make out the silhouette of a man sat behind the steering wheel, eyes trained on your building. You glanced at the front door, doubling checking that the chain was still across, bolting it shut, and then you grabbed the curtains and pulled them closed, the whole room going black.
By morning it was gone, but it still left you unnerved, so much so that as you walked to work you swore you were being followed, you felt as though you constantly had eyes on you. You sat through work with a twisted stomach, wondering if you had been caught out, in the evening you darted home, slipping through back alleys to get to your flat, but still the feeling never left.
On Friday you took the morning off, walking to the markets to buy breakfast and to try and not to let your anxiety get the better of you. The air was frigid, light rain dancing on the wind and leaving tiny droplets on your clothes, you shivered into your coat and tried not to think about what you really wanted to warm you up instead. You avoided the bread. If it was warm and soft and came out of an oven you steered clear of it, turning your gaze to the fruit and the small jars of handmade jam.
Once again, as you mulled over apricot or raspberry marmalade, you could feel the heat of an unwavering stare on your back. The hairs on your neck stood on end, and you tried to casually look over your shoulder to catch a glance of who was watching you so intently, you only saw it for a split second, a hint of black that darted into the crowds as soon as you saw it, but it was something. You put down the pots, slowly walking towards where you knew the stalls thinned and the streets narrowed, hoping you would get a definitive answer as to whether you were actually being followed.
Down an alley, through an open garden and finally behind a fence, you stood completely still, waiting for the telltale echo of footsteps following you. The figure was moving quickly and you could hear him groan in frustration, and as soon as he passed you, you leapt from your hiding spot and grasped him by the shoulder.
“Ollie?!” You yelped, recognising the young boy immediately. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Me? What about you?” He replied, shrugging you off and straightening his coat, gesturing to the empty alley you were stood in.
You scoffed, “Have you been following me?”
He didn’t answer, suddenly finding the ground much more interesting than the conversation you were dying to have. You poked his shoulder gently, suddenly having a rush of memories of teasing Finn in the exact same way.
“Look, in my defence you weren’t supposed to find out.”
“Yeah, you did a really good job of hiding it.” You said sarcastically. “Why were you even doing it? I thought you were -” You stopped, not allowing yourself to continue and potentially dig an even deeper hole for yourself.
He rubbed the back of his neck, pursing his lips. “Alfie wanted to keep an eye on you.”
“An eye on me?” You repeated, demeanour faltering. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“He just wanted to make sure that you, you know... were okay.”
“Well that’s not his job.” Your voice raised, suddenly feeling extreme deja vu.
“Well he’s been doing it for months now so I didn’t think you would mind.” He retorted, pitch matching your own.
“Months?” You were shocked, mostly at the fact that you had been so oblivious, the only explanation was that you had been so dizzyingly infatuated with Alfie that your mind had been completely clouded.
“Yeah, but can you blame him?”
“Well I...”
“Look, it’s none of my business but, you knew what you were getting involved with. I mean, he told you about what he does didn’t he?”
“Yeah, I know, but...” You trailed off once again.
“So, why is it so bizarre that he wants to make sure you don’t get hurt?”
“It’s not bizarre. I just don’t need to be taken care of.”
“Just because you had a falling out doesn’t mean he doesn’t care.”
You raised a brow, genuinely curious. “A falling out? Is that what he said?”
“Well, not exactly, he’s not a man of many words.” He stated and you nodded, “I don’t know what happened between you but Alfie, he’s... I’ve known him for a long time and I’ve never seen him like this, it’s strange and honestly I’m a little worried.” His face paled, “Don’t tell him I said that.”
You smiled softly, but your heart was pounding in your ears at his words. “I didn’t want to hurt him.”
Ollie shrugged. “All I know is that for the past two weeks he’s been upset about something.” He lifted his hand for you to inspect, three of his fingers wrapped in gauze. “Yesterday he nearly amputated my hand because an order hadn’t been filled, and that was him on a better day.”
You shifted. You felt uncomfortable under Ollie heated gaze, but you had no explanation or reasoning to give him because you truly didn’t have anything that would explain your behaviour.
“I’m sure whatever he did, he’s sorry for, but like I said, he’s not a man of many words.”
“He didn’t do anything.” You admitted.
“Then why are you not with him?”
“It’s not as simple as that.” You gestured with your hands, trying to convey all the emotions in your decision, but it was clear Ollie didn’t agree.
“Isn’t it?”
You sat behind your desk, sucking on a boiled sweet you had found at the bottom of your purse, the caramel flavour a pleasant distraction from the stress migraine brewing behind your eyes. You had barely done any work since returning to the office, instead dawdling and ringing your hands, running over different scenarios in your head.
The truth was you missed Alfie. When it came down to it, you truly missed him. You missed his voice, his hand in yours, the way that his arm cradled around your body as if it had been carved there. You missed his lips, the weight of his hips against yours, the intimacy you had never had with anyone else. You missed his wit, the pads of his fingers and the wiry hair around his mouth, your cold skin missed the warmth of his fireplace and your fingertips missed the feel of his scars and his tattoos under you.
You missed Cyril.
You stayed until long after you should have gone home, you told your colleagues you wanted to call some clients before you left, but instead you sat in silence. Before you knew what you were truly doing, you grabbed your coat and purse and ran through the front door, locking it quickly and making your way down the streets.
The bakery was still filled with workers, steam rose all around you and the smell of sweet bread was all too familiar and all too heartbreaking. A few eyes snapped up to you as your heels clacked against the floor, but as soon as they reached you they fell back to the floor, nobody lingering on you for too long. You passed them without thought, hurrying down the stairs and into the warehouse below. It was dark, the lights were dull and the heavy machines around you hissed and spat, it was much quieter down here and you knew that this was off limits to the rest of the workers, Alfie only allowed people he trusted to this section of the distillery. And that had once been you.
Your footsteps were numbed by the echo of noise around you, and you paced across the floor looking for Alfie’s office, but when you found it, the door was ajar and his seat was empty. His big black coat and tall hat were still hung up, and the weather outside was much too frigid for just a shirt, so you knew he had to be lurking somewhere.
You walked past barrels and barrels of rum, roaring furnaces and crates that were bigger than you, eventually ending up in a part of the warehouse you had never seen before. At first glance it was empty, and you were so dejected you were about to leave until you heard a low grumble and a “Fuck.” from the ground that made you stop in your tracks.
Your heel rang out as it touched the floor, and the noise made Alfie’s body stiffen. He was lying underneath a copper contraption, his head completely covered, only recognisable by his stocky legs and the gold chain you could just about make out snaking from his shirt. He was screwing something together, multiple tools strewn about the floor beside him.
“Ollie? Go get me another fuckin’ wrench, boy.”
“Not Ollie.”
His head jolted up so fast he smacked it against the metal, cursing loudly once again and manoeuvring himself from under it in a swift motion that made a breath get caught in your throat, his body suddenly in front of yours.
“Right, well, I can see that now.”
He allowed his eyes to drink you in for a few seconds, relief and annoyance and hunger flashing in his pupils for the briefest of moments, before he pulled them away. He was covered in grease, staining his white shirt and the sides of his face, but he still made the words jumble inside of your mouth. He was avoiding you now, and you couldn’t blame him, he turned his back to you and started to pick up the fallen equipment, wiping them down with a rag. The tension in the air was palpable, and you hated that you were the reason for it.
“I...” You inhaled, stopping your voice from going shaky, you aren’t a child, you shouldn’t act like one. “I wanted to apologise.”
He shot you a look, curiosity and anticipation in his sapphire eyes.
“I’m sorry, Alfie. I haven’t been fair.”
You could see the darkness under his eyes, his hands were scabbed and red, evidence of a fight on his knuckles. The skin on his cheeks were flared and his hair was tousled, he looked like he hadn’t slept since you last saw him.
He remained silent and that just made you more anxious. You started rambling, not sure what your end game is but knowing that you hate the cold shoulder he’s giving you.
“I don’t have an explanation. I just... I just think I got scared.” You shook your head, pleading for your eyes to stop watering, you felt pathetic, especially as Alfie simply took in your words, no emotion on his features. “I should have told you. I shouldn’t have just left and ignored you, that wasn’t fair of me and, and... I miss you, Alfie, and I’m sorry.”
He kept fiddling with the wrench in his hands, keeping himself busy. His lack of response made your body feel rigid, but you understood. You chewed on your bottom lip, begging for him to say something but feeling unsurprised when he doesn’t. You turned on your heel, wringing your hands together, your eyes prickling and your throat thick.
“Goodbye Alfie, thank you. For everything.”
“Do you do this often then?” He said finally, you spun around, and catch the smallest sliver of a smile on his face, if you blinked you might have missed it.
“Do what?”
“Run away from your problems?”
You smiled gently, thinking of the reason you’re here in the first place. “Yeah, actually, I guess I do.”
“Right, well, that’s a habit we’ll have to work on, innit.” His voice was playful but firm, and he stepped towards you, smelling of rum and green apples and cut grass. He moved tentatively, cautiously, inches apart from you now, reminiscent of the first time you kissed, always so careful with you.
“Are you angry with me?” You asked, lips ghosting over his.
“I was, right, but how can I be? When you come in ere’ looking like that?” He looked down at you, so small under his looming frame, so angelic and ethereal against the blood that stains the floor and the sins committed in this very room. Truth be told, he had spent the last two weeks seething through his teeth, he was adamant that he never wanted to see you again. His blood had constantly been boiling, his fingers clenched and his voice snappy, but even he knew that his anger was a front for the hurt that he felt inside. He really fucking missed you, but the last thing he was going to do was trail after you like some fucking puppy, and he had made up his mind that not even you were worth the trouble, and if he ever saw you in the flesh again, he would just walk the other way.
But then he saw you again.
You had made him look like a fucking mug, and yet as you stood looking up at him through your eyelashes he realised that if you asked him to burn the distillery down he wouldn’t hesitate to light the first match. He felt like a fucking pussy, even just admitting that to himself, but you had him wrapped around one of your tiny little fingers without even trying. He brushed a loose curl behind your ear, and he knew that he would give you anything you wanted, do anything you wanted, if it meant he got to touch you like this.
“And Cyril, he misses you.” He said playfully, wanting to put an end to the pathetic thoughts in his head.
“Hmm?”
“Yeah, walking around all mopey like, with his tail between his legs.”
You met his oceanic eyes.“I missed him too.”
He smiled, his fingers trailing along the edge of your jaw, manipulating your movements. He leaned in and gently pressed his lips to your own, wanting to convey more in his kiss than he could ever say out loud. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you backwards, your feet grazing his own. Your back met the cool metal behind you and it made you momentarily gasp. He caged you in with his arms, teasing kisses across your lips, having to stop himself from moaning at such a simple act.
He glanced down at you, eyes flickering over your features. You’re both dazed and drunk and he says the only words that come to mind when he looks at you.
“So fucking pretty.”
You blushed, leaning to hide your face in his neck but he stops you, full of lust and hungry, smashing your lips together, your teeth clashing in the frenzy. You let out a groan, and his hands ran along your body, suddenly hoisting you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. You want to tell him to stop, scold him about hurting his back, but you can’t do anything other than fall onto him.
“Alfie.” You giggle, his lips all over you, possessive and wanting and greedy, desperate for the feel of you after so long. “Alfie, what if someone sees?”
“They won’t, but if anyone comes down I’ll shoot the bastard, alright?”
You laughed in reply, but he’s being sincere, he wants to be the only person to see you this way. He laid his claim on your neck, marking you in such a primal way, it’s hardly been two weeks and yet he’s devouring you like it’s been years. He isn’t stupid, he knows that there is a queue of men that would kill to be in his position, and the thought spurs him on, the mere idea of another mans hands on you is enough to drive him insane.
You try to be rational, try to muster up the strength and be the bigger person and remind yourself about the mess you are in, but you can’t, not when Alfie is kissing you and touching you and making you feel the way he does. You couldn’t avoid him, that much was certain. He had a hold on you, tight like a collar around your throat, one that you couldn’t shake loose. Your plan had been smashed to smithereens the moment you stepped inside the warehouse, if you were stronger you would stop him and tell him everything, but instead you just let his hands wander up your thighs, his lips silencing you.
Winter passed in a blur of snow and ice and naked trees, Spring finally arriving in blooming flowers and blue skies and newborn lambs. Everything fell back into place the way you left it, your lives separate in the streets but always connecting at dusk, linked together under the stars. Alfie hadn’t even mentioned the dreaded Shelby name in months, his business booming and dealing with the coppers in his own city rather than worrying about the gang up north. From what you gathered Tommy hadn’t tried to get in contact with Alfie since the first meeting, and you counted your blessings every day.
You were swept off your feet with ecstasy. Your job was going brilliantly, you had made new friends, ones that slotted in perfectly with your new life. They never questioned your past, just happy to dance and drink and laugh with you. But it was Alfie who crafted the smile that seemed to constantly be on your face, it was him who made you snort with laughter and sigh with happiness. Your days and nights were filled with mutual obsession, engulfing you both like a riptide. He brought you out of your shell and you brought him to his knees, rendering him completely weak at just the sight of you.
The days soon heated up, your skirts become shorter and Alfie’s eyes wandering higher, which led to you almost always being late for work. You spent nearly every night in Alfie’s cottage, sharing dinner and stories and a bed. Alfie had mentioned on three separate occasions, that perhaps it would be easier if you just moved in with him or as he so delicately put it, “Most of your shit is here anyway, why not just bring it all, eh?” Even though his words were teasing you knew he meant it, and Alfie wasn’t the type of man to do things on a whim, but every time he brought it up, you refused.
As much as you wanted to spend every moment with Alfie, your flat was the one thing you had ever owned, and it felt like a token of freedom for you. You compromised however, by filling up one of his spare drawers with your favourite dresses and skirts, and putting your night cream and perfume on his basin. He noticed them almost immediately when he came home and made a spectacle of pretending to trip over the heels you had placed next to his work boots, and moaning about the clutter. But you saw the gleam in his eye and the way he pulled you impossibly closer when you both crawled into bed.
The truth almost came out on a Friday.
It was the peak of summer, when the air was so thick and warm it was like swallowing honey. Your hair was pinned back, droplets of sweat sticking to the nape of your neck, your small office suffocating you. Your fingers darted across the typewriter, pen in between your teeth as you tried to remember your train of thought, your mind clouded from the heat. Three sharp knocks on the door made you jolt, biting down on the metal in your mouth and splattering ink across the table, you swore quietly, murmuring a flustering and incoherent “Come in!” as you tried to clear the mess.
You looked up, noticing Jenny, Edmund’s assistant. You smiled, but faltered slightly at her bemused expression.
“Everything alright?”
“Yes! Er... Edmund said you can leave early.”
You paused, resting on your elbows as your eyes flickered down her face for any kind of explanation, but she continued looking at you expectantly, wringing her hands together like a child.
“Have I done something wrong?” You asked, suddenly feeling your palms sweat and throat constrict, your mind racing to whatever mistake you could have possibly made.
“No!” She said, almost tripping over her words to reassure you, something slightly out of character for the usually demure woman. “Everything is fine! He says you deserve some time off.”
“Right, well,” you continued, “That’s very kind of him, but I have so much work to finish and...”
“No he insists! He says to take a long weekend, come back on Tuesday!”
“What?” Before you could even question her properly, she left, the door creaking from the speed of her movements. You sighed, placing your head in your hands and running your fingertips through your hair, desperate for the relief of the air. Half of you wondered if you should ignore Edmund, his bizarre gesture surely having some kind of motive you weren’t sure you wanted to know, but the other half of you longed to leave the confines of your desk.
You pursed your lips, ignoring the mounds of paperwork beside you and smiling gently, thinking of all the things you could do with Alfie with your newfound free time. You considered stopping by the bakery as you folded your things into your purse, wondering if you should visit the deli he liked and treat him to lunch, but as soon as you left the intensity of the office, you stopped dead in the street, everything suddenly making sense.
“Mr Solomons” you scolded gently, unable to fight the smile that graced your features at the mere sight of the man.
His car was askew on the opposite side of the street, expensive and glossy against the cobbled stones below. Cyril’s large head was lolling out of the window, his tail thumping against the front seats as he spotted you.
“Rosie.” Alfie greeted, with a toothy smile that could melt even the coldest of hearts. He looked happy, his hair was loose and he was in a white cotton shirt, his gold rings glinting under the light of the sun.
You practically skipped towards him, your skirt bouncing to your knees, air whipping around your legs. He leant out of the window, swinging his arm and coiling around your waist, pulling you close. He grinned as he kissed you, not caring about the people that might see, his mouth hot and his clothes smelling of patchouli and sandalwood.
“Alfie. What on earth did you say to my boss?” You asked with a playful, quirked brow. You toyed with a ringlet in his hair, Cyril whining in the backseat, the big dog desperate for your attention.
“What? What makes you think I said something?”
“Well, the fact I was just offered a long weekend for the first time since I started is quite telling.”
“And that means, right, that I had something to do with it?” He replied incredulously, gesturing wildly with his hands.
“Alfie.”
“Fine! We had a little chat is all, just about how hard you’ve been working, and how nice it would be for a little time off.”
“Oh God,” You groaned, resting your head on his arm. “I’m going to lose my job aren’t I?”
“Fuck no, not unless he wants me to come back and have another little chat.”
You playfully slapped his shoulder, squealing when he pinched the skin on your elbow, pulling you closer.
“You gonna get in the car or what, love?”
You rolled your eyes, walking around the bonnet, Alfie shifting across the seats and holding the door open for you as you teasingly curtseyed in response. As soon as you sat down on the hot leather, the fabric sticking to your thighs, Alfie kissed you again, both of his large hands cradling your face. You giggled as you felt Cyril sniffing your ear and turned around to stroke his soft head, cooing at him as he wiggled with glee. It was then you noticed the navy trunk stuffed haphazardly in the boot, the cuff of a shirt sticking out.
“You going somewhere Alf?”
“Not just me, right. I’m not that bloody lonely, Pet.” You flicked the side of his face, and he smiled, leaning into your touch. “Besides, what would you do all by yourself, you’d be bored out of your nut, probably get into some trouble if I wasn’t around, and we can’t be having that, can we?”
“Alfie, I...” You tripped over your words when the fact that he was taking you away for the weekend sunk in, his gesture so thoughtful and kind and sweet you practically melted into a puddle but you still felt hesitant. “What about work? What about my flat? What if -”
“Here’s the thing,” He said, cutting you off, twisting the key in his hands and letting his car purr to life. “I happen to know, right, that you’re off until next Tuesday, so don’t even start, OK. I know exactly what you’re gonna say before you even say it, but don’t worry, old Alf has everything sorted. Not just a pretty face, love.”
He played with the hair above his mouth, teasing it with his hands as he navigated down the street. The sun lit the inside of the car but it was no match for the warmth in your stomach, you leant over the gear and placed a soft kiss on his cheek, leaving a pink mark in the shape of your lips. You watched as he tried not to react, but his mouth twitched ever so slightly, his eyes sparkling.
“Thank you.” You mumbled into his flesh, and he reached over and put his hand on the bare skin of your thigh, squeezing softly. You looked in the rear view mirror and at the trunk, Cyril using it as a makeshift pillow as he curled up on the seats.
“Wait. Did you pack my cardigan, Alf? You know the lavender one?”
“Well, actually, I packed everything I thought you would need, and turns out, you don’t really need a lot.” He murmured, turning the steering wheel.
“But you packed the clothes in my drawer, right?”
“Well if by clothes you mean your pretty undergarments and the like, then yeah, yeah I did.”
“Alfie!”
____________________________________
Margate was beautiful.
He had rented a house by the sea, so close you could watch the ocean waves tumble and roar from every window. You felt sand under your toes for the first time since you were a child, the grit clinging to your body and sticking to your feet. You and Alfie sat side by side on a striped towel, sharing chips and stories, you wrapped under his arm and Cyril chasing seagulls. He kissed you under the full sun, open mouthed and greedily, the beach empty for miles. You laughed when you got caught in a wave with Cyril, hoisting your skirt and dancing in the surf and Alfie swore that he would die a happy man if that was the last thing he heard.
That evening, the sun was setting, the sky a dreamy tangerine and your feet bare as you waded through the grass with your heels in your hands. You were watching the colours above you, filled with good food and warm wine as you and Alfie headed back from a restaurant, his eyes never leaving your body as you tiptoed across the fields, looking completely angelic.
“You know what you remind me of?” He said finally as you slowed down and let him meet your pace. His voice was strong amongst the chirping crickets and birds that nested in the trees above and you let it wash over you like silk.
“What?”
His arm snaked around your waist, lifting you ever so slightly off the ground, pressing his lips to the crook of your neck and nuzzling his nose across your flesh.
“One of those fuckin’ gypsies, right? You know, running around a caravan with flowers in your hair and shit?”
You felt your whole body stiffen. Your grip loosened around your shoes, but you willed yourself not to drop them. You allowed Alfie to pull you into his body, adamant not to let him realise something was wrong, you couldn’t let your nerves control you again. You could feel Alfie was about to continue so you silenced him with a kiss, taking the words straight out of his mouth and making him turn to putty in your hands as you all but dragged him back home.
That night as you both laid under rumpled bedsheets, the radio lulling a soft tune and the stars twinkling outside your open window, Alfie nudged you with his knee. He left the room and you watched with drowsy eyes, yawning into your palm. You could hear him rummaging in the hallway and you breathed in the scent of your intertwined bodies as you relaxed under the duvet, your eyes closing ever so softly.
“Ah, fuck!”
You sat up, a sleepy grin on your features as you blinked under the soft lights. “Alf? You alright?”
“Stubbed my fucking toe!”
You chuckled, falling back into your cozy cocoon just as Alfie hobbled back into the bedroom. You felt his calloused fingertips tracing along your nose and collarbone, and your eyelids fluttered open. You whined and burrowed down deeper, groaning at the distraction before squirming as he placed a cool palm on your lower stomach.
“Don’t you dare fall back asleep.” He muttered, before clearing his throat. “I got you something.”
You opened your eyes and hoisted yourself onto your elbows, “Alfie.” You said, looking him in the square in the face. “You’ve done enough already, you don’t need to give me anything.”
“Will you just be quiet and open my present?” He asked, shifting closer to you and handing you a small velvet box.
You toyed with the brass clasps, staring him down. “Alfie... I don’t deserve all this.”
“Well, we have very different opinions then, innit?”
You smiled, the thump of your heart rivalling the sounds of the waves outside your window. You pried the box open, stroking the fabric under your fingers, letting out an audible gasp as you saw what was inside. It was a gold chain with a dainty “A” charm hanging from the middle, it was simple and beautiful and you could already feel the tears prickling in your eyes. Alfie was watching you hesitantly, his fingers running in circles on your knee, the day before he had argued with a client and had a gun to his head, but he felt a million times more anxious now.
“You like it?”
You leapt over to him, straddling his waist playfully and collapsing on top of him, careful not to aggravate his back. You kissed him hard and passionately and then soft and gently, wanting to memorise his taste and feel and smell, wanting to remember the moment forever.
“I take that as a yes then?”
You pressed your nose against his and Alfie felt as if he was in heaven, he swore his heart would give out from the way it was pounding, and the dizzying effect you had on him was stronger than a line of snow. You were ethereal and radiant and more than deserving of the gold he had given you, he would rob the fucking Queen if it would make you happy. He inhaled somewhat shakily, knowing that he had to man up and just tell you the words that were currently trapped in his mouth.
“You make me feel alive.” He said, “For the first time ever, I feel like I can breathe, and I...”
You felt weightless, like all the air in your lungs had turned to smoke. His features were so familiar under the light of the moon and your heart was lurching in your chest at his honesty. You could see he was struggling, he kept his feelings under lock and key most of the time but his actions spoke a million times more than his words ever could.
“I love you, too.” Four simple words, but you both exhaled with relief. This was it, the final nail in your coffin, you were his and he was yours. You kissed again, the kind that made your knees buckle and your blood rush and the world still around you, feeling like you were the only two people on the planet, feeling untouchable. You pulled away, running your finger across the chain and resting on your knees, still straddling his lap.
“Can you help me with the clasp?”
He nodded, and you turned around so that he could fasten the clasp, watching as it dangled perfectly around your neck.
“Yeah, well, this is a magic necklace right?” He said, “When you put it on, you have to take something else off.” He tugged on the end of his shirt you were wearing, shooting teasing glances at the skin underneath.
You laughed as he hooked his arms around your waist sending you toppling onto the mattress, his lips were claiming any skin he could find and hands were clumsily unfastening your buttons. You sighed and wriggled around him, your legs wrapping around him, suddenly not feeling tired at all.
The rest of the weekend was magical. The sun never seemed to stop shining, rays of light dancing across your face from morning to night. The ocean was cold and salt water followed you as you moved, sand on your scalp and grass stains on your knees. You felt like you were living out a fairytale you had dreamt of in your youth, but only a thousand times better.
You watched the sun set and rise again from the shore, your feet soaked and Alfie moaning about getting his trousers wet. You ate and drank and forced Alfie to slow dance with you on the tiles in the kitchen, pulling him close as the radio hummed, the world slowing down all around you. You shared sliced peaches on the balcony, reading a book with your legs on his lap as he rifled through the newspaper, occasionally making a snide remark about something he found particularly distasteful. You walked Cyril through the woods, his gingerbread coloured hair shining brightly, something about the open fields and lack of people making Alfie more vulnerable, talking about his childhood as you held his hand.
Even when you returned to the bustle and smog of Camden, you felt like you were floating on cloud nine. You both resumed work and fell back into your domestic routines, but the love and intimacy of your getaway still clung to you both. It was just as hot in London, perhaps more so with the bustle of people and the fumes from the factories all around you. No matter how clouded the sky could get though, you were Alfie’s own personal ray of sunshine. You were a blur of freckles and raspberries and paint stained fingers that had somehow whirled into his life, and he couldn’t believe his luck.
You made jam together, jars and jars lining the shelves, the room smelling of overripe fruit and sugar. You’d visit him at work, helping him with errands, your neat handwriting contrasting with his rushed scrawls. You’d both laugh long into the evening, the kind where you ran out of breath and your ribs ached with exhaustion, and when you finally recovered enough, you’d crawl onto his lap in the dark and watch the stars.
He was so used to being angry, he used to feel as though he had a storm cloud brewing above his head, one that followed him like a shadow. Happiness didn’t come easily to him, he liked order and control and he didn’t have time to live in a fantasy. Somehow you had shattered his illusion, completely turned his world on its axis and bent it to your will, and he didn’t have any complaints. When business got tough and his hands were bloody and raw, when nobody fucking listened to him or the sharp pains in his spine became overpowering you were the one thing that could make him feel whole again. If he ever felt lost, drifting out to sea, you would command him back to shore and he would lose himself in your light, shutting out the darkness.
Life continued at a steady, dreamy pace. You and Alfie spent almost every morning and evening together, whether you were sitting in comfortable silence or talking till the sun rose every moment spent together was bliss. You playfully bickered, he could be jealous and over protective and you could be stubborn and ditzy but you balanced one another out perfectly. You and Ollie became close friends, the young apprentice falling for your charms despite his initial hesitance. The boys at the bakery knew you, and they knew not to look for too long or sport a black eye the next day, but everyone treated you with respect and kindness.
You still had all of your privacy though. Alfie liked for you to be kept out of business for your safety and you agreed in case you got tangled up with your past, so you managed to find a balance. Alfie trusted you more than anyone, but he kept the nitty gritty details to himself, never wanting to worry you. Which is why you didn’t find out that Tommy and Alfie had kept in contact, and the two of them had tried to find a middle ground for dealing with Sabini’s men. Whilst you had been living in a blissful bubble filled with roses and sweet bread and long kisses, your brothers had been setting The Eden Club alight and slashing the faces of those who stood in their way. As you went for midnight drives, watched foreign movies at the pictures and slept in your boyfriends arms, Tommy had been striking a deal with him, the pair of you only separated by a few streets.
Everything came to a head when the leaves starting turning brown. The air was getting cooler and your socks were getting thicker and your hair was almost always tousled by the wind. You were on your way to the post office to drop off some paperwork for Edmund, but you wanted to drop by the bakery and see Alfie. You knew he had a busy week ahead with new workers and he had left some documents at the cottage that you thought might be important.
The bakery was filled with unfamiliar faces but rather than get caught in the crowd you made your way towards the back exit, hoping to catch Alfie at his desk. The machines were roaring, the air smelling of sour whisky and rich dough, you were distracted, counting the stones beneath your feet, until you heard something that made your entire body stiffen and your heart stop.
“(Y/N?)”
You hadn’t been called that in well over a year. It seemed so unfamiliar that it took you back for a few seconds, the name bringing up so much unwanted nostalgia that you almost vomited on the spot. You gathered yourself as quickly as you could, determined to find the source that had blown your cover.
You spotted him immediately, fiery red hair and pale skin, memories jolting through you like electricity. The shock made you speechless, but he filled in the silence.
“(Y/N?), fucking hell. What the fuck are you doing here? I haven’t seen you since - ”
You ran towards him, shoving your hand over his mouth and pushing him to one side. His eyes practically bugged out of his head, completely bewildered at your rudeness.
“Don’t. Please.” Was all you could muster up, the room was empty save for a few stragglers hoisting a barrel from the floor, but you couldn’t take any chances. You felt him nod under your palm, and you slowly removed it, your breathing shaky.
“Jesus. What are you doing here? Nobody’s seen you in... Tommy is going to lose his marbles.”
You shook your head, sirens roaring in your mind, your hands slick with sweat. “No, no, Billy, you can’t, please.”
“Are you in some kind of trouble?” His eyes hardened, “Is it Solomon’s?”
“No. It’s not what you think it’s... complicated and... I’m not in any danger, I promise.”
“How can you say that? Look at where you are!”
You could feel your perfectly crafted world start to crumble beneath your feet. If Billy Kitchen told your brothers your whereabouts there was no doubt that before nightfall you would be bundled in a car and driven back to Small Heath. You tried to come up with some kind of explanation or plan but instead your eyes fell to his waist, and you inhaled sharply at his apron.
“You work here? Oh God.”
“Tommy made a deal with Solomon’s. Bakery boys and Blinders are working together, he’s sent a bunch of us down here to deal with shipments.”
He reached out and grasped your shoulder, the severity of the situation hitting you both. Billy had always been a good friend, not just to the family but to you. He could always talk some sense into your brothers if they got too in over their heads, he was a great mediator with a kind heart, but this was all far too overwhelming.
“Listen.” You said, your voice firm. “This is my life now, I’m not the same person I was before. You can’t tell Tommy,” He looked down, shaking his head and your voice cracked. “Please, Billy, you can’t.”
“What part of ‘Fill it out and fuck off’ do these fucking gyps find so hard to understand? I mean, fuckin’ hell Ollie I - ” The sharpness of his tone cut through the air like a blade, and you pushed Billy’s arm from your shoulders and took a step back, desperate for some distance.
“Rosie?” Alfie strode towards you effortlessly, his hand snaking around your waist and pulling you into him, the motion possessive and a clear warning to Billy, whose mouth was agape, his eyes trained at yours. “What the hell are you doing here, lass?”
You could hear the slight strain in his voice, he didn’t like you wandering around the warehouse alone, he didn’t trust anybody else around you and he certainly didn’t like the redhead who was staring you down.You squeezed his palm gently, directing his attention away from Billy and towards you, trying to ease the tension.
“You left these.” You handed him the documents and his mouth twitched, determined not to show any weakness in front of his men but also thankful. You could feel Billy’s eyes practically scorching a hole into your head, your mouth was completely dry and you couldn’t feel your limbs, it was as if you were floating in the middle of the ocean.
“Well, I don’t know what the fuck Tommy Shelby does in his business but I don’t fucking pay you to stand here and gawp at my woman. Get out of my sight, Kitchen.”
There was no more hiding it. If his thumb rubbing the side of your waist wasn’t indication enough, Alfie had just confirmed your relationship to the person that could ruin it with one simple phone call. Billy turned on his heel, not wanting to face Alfie’s wrath but also inwardly fighting with himself, his loyalty drifting from his comrade and friend, Tommy, back to you, the girl he thought of as a sister.
You managed to catch his gaze just before he left, pleading with your eyes, desperate for him to listen to you, he held your stare for a moment and offered the smallest of nods, and you felt your insides twist into a knot unsure of what he would do next.
“Fucking imbeciles, the lot of em’.” Alfie pressed a chaste kiss to your crown, before clicking his fingers rudely at Ollie, a habit you would usually scold him for, but all of the fire inside of you had turned to ash.
“Right, Ol, walk her back to work, eh? I’ll see you tonight, Pet. Wish me luck with these half wits.” He winked at you as he left, so unaware of the uproar around him, so unaware of all of the lies that you had spun and the tornado you had directed at him. Ollie tapped your shoulder softly, pulling you from your hazy mind and guiding you towards the door.
All you could do now was wait.
Days passed and you were anticipating a blow that would shatter your world, but nothing happened. Tommy didn’t turn up at your door, Arthur and John didn’t appear when you walked to work, Billy didn’t try to follow you home with an army of Blinders.You had bitten your fingernails down to the nub, red and raw welts of skin on your hands as a sign of your anxiety, but you were tired of living on edge.
You carried on as if nothing was out of the ordinary. You were more cautious, knowing that you would have to stop your unannounced visits to the bakery and there was a greater risk of running into a face of your past on the street, but you refused to let paranoia rule your life. At the end of the day, after a long bath and a glass of rum, as you sat on his lap in the arm chair by the fireplace, Alfie would tell you little snippets of his day. He often left out the undesirables, like the arguing and beatings that had occurred, but from what you could gather the new employees weren’t causing him any trouble. He didn’t mention meeting your brothers, made no sly digs about any new deals or double crossings and so you naively assumed that everything was fine, that perhaps you could continue living in your fantasy.
Whilst you were trying to rebuild the pieces that were scattered around you, whilst you attempted to regain some normality from the shock you had of seeing Billy, Alfie was preparing for his own war. He had met with Sabini, the man he loathed was at last speaking some common sense, the Italian had struck a deal with him in exchange for an alliance against Tommy, and Alfie couldn’t refuse.
Alfie was a brilliant business man, cunning and authoritative and quick witted, but this was the first time he had something to lose. His love for you could be seen as a weakness, your kind eyes and gentle smile were a rarity amongst the murk that surrounded him. He had to be clever, he had to be calculated, he had to make sure the crown on his head didn’t slip. He had to make sure you were always protected.
That’s why he invited Billy and Arthur around for Passover. The table was set and the candles were lit and plates of food were piled high. Alfie mulled over the taste of wine on his tongue, he ran his finger along the barrel of his gun tucked securely in his waistband, watching the men arrive. He didn’t feel regret as he slashed the throat of the goat he had brought, he knew that it was a sacrifice for a bigger cause. He didn’t feel regret as he shot Billy in the head, crimson splattering the walls and his shirt, dousing him in sin. He didn’t feel anything as he tied up Arthur and called the police, telling them to arrest an innocent man. He only thought of you, waiting for him at home, ready to celebrate with him.
You swore loudly, pulling out the lamb joint you had prepared, wondering why the oven was smoking suddenly. You rifled through pages of Alfie’s cookbook, biting your tongue and trying to restore order in the kitchen.
“I don’t know what you’re smiling at.” You said to Cyril, who was waiting patiently for you to drop something on the floor.
It was your first Passover and whilst Alfie had made a full feast of traditional food, you had wanted to attempt the Zeroah. You knew he had a business meeting, he wasn’t going to be back until mid afternoon and that gave you enough time to fiddle around with dinner without Alfie watching you. The kitchen smelt warm and sweet and like home, a word that had never had much meaning to you, until now. The air was brisk and the sun was starting to set and you watched the birds fly across the sky from the kitchen window as you made the finishing touches.
You heard rattling from outside and perked up instantly, leaving the meat to brown you skipped to the hall, ready to greet Alfie. As soon as the door opened you stepped back in shock. He had tried to clean himself up as best as he could, but with the rush of the police and everything else he had only managed to wipe his face, blood staining his clothes. He had taken the back exit and driven straight home to you, but his eyes widened when he realised how scared you were.
“It’s alright, Pet. It’s not my blood.”
The splotches were darkening like spilled ink, tainting the cream of his shirt. “Oh my God, Alf.” You ran to him, pulling him apart with your fingers, desperate to find any open wounds or bleeding cuts. “Are you hurt?”
He held your face in his palms, his hands chilly from the air. “No, I’m alright. I’m alright.” He dragged you into his chest, careful to not smudge your face with blood, wanting to hold you against him for a few minutes. After a while, when both of your pulses synched and your breathing was regulated, Alfie stroking your hair and humming slightly, you stepped away.
“Is this some kind of Passover celebration I didn’t know about?”
He laughed, loudly, shrugging off his coat and boots. He just wanted to forget the events of the morning, he just wanted to eat and drink and be with you. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” You murmured, hurrying to the bedroom to grab fresh clothes and a flannel. Alfie picked at the food on the table, moaning loudly and complimenting you, his over enthusiasm making you smile.
When you returned, Alfie was bent over the kitchen sink, washing his hands. You tapped on his shoulder, making him spin around and smile and you stood between his legs. You started to unbutton his shirt, pulling the fabric from his frame revealing his taut, tattooed stomach. Throwing it into the wash basket, you held the flannel under warm, running water, a question mulling on your tongue.
“Whose blood is it?”
Alfie’s fingers tangled in your hair as you ran the cloth across his skin, his thumb making the same movements on your scalp as yours on his torso. The room was silent for a few seconds, Alfie wondering how much he should tell you, weighing the options in his head.
“Billy Kitchen.”
The flannel hit the floor and you stepped backward, tripping over your own feet. A droplet of water trailed down Alfie’s chest, hitting the waistband of his trousers.
“Oh my God. Is he alright?”
“He’s dead.”
The shock of his words hit you like a bullet in your gut, the blood staining your boyfriends hands that of a man you had grown up with. You weren’t naive, you were well aware of the kind of man Alfie was, the kind of things he did, but now those he killed weren’t nameless of faceless or people you had never met, now it was a friend. “Oh my God. Oh my God, Alfie.”
“It’s Ok, it’s alright, nothing is going to happen to me.” He stepped forward tentatively, trying to comfort you but you stepped back, thinking of Tommy and Billy and every fucked up lie that’s come out of your mouth. You imagined Alfie with a hole in his head from one of your brothers and bile hits the back of your throat.
“What... What?” You could barely speak.
“I’m not gonna go down for this, everything will be fine.”
“What? Who will?”
“Arthur Shelby.”
You retched, gasping for air and placing your head in your palms. You don’t even want to ask Alfie if he’s alive, the thought of your brother in a coffin is enough to make your heart stop and your head pound. “What? What the fuck? Oh God, Alfie. What have you done? Please tell me he’s OK.”
You were in tears, nails digging into your flesh, and Alfie watched you, completely bewildered. He expected you to be upset, but not like this. His skin is hot and he feels as if he’s been set alight, your concern for another man making his blood boil and he can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong.
“Now why the fuck, right, would you care about some stupid fucking gyp?”
“Because he’s my brother!”
The words came out before you could stop them and you covered your mouth when you realised just what you have done. The look of betrayal and hurt and confusion on Alfie’s face will be the reason for a million sleepless nights, the ache inside of you clawed at your organs and in that moment you truly loathed yourself.
“What?” His voice was so impassive and it snapped your heart in two. There’s no point dragging out the inevitable, you had to face the music and own up to the lies you have strung.
“I’m a Shelby.”
The air froze around you. You could feel yourself drowning, as if you were choking on salty, icy water. He inhaled so sharply it sounded like a gunshot, and you had to stop yourself from looking at him, knowing that you’ll collapse if you do.
“What the fuck did you just say?” Never had Alfie spoken to you in a way that wasn’t kind or playful, and the tone in his voice made you want to curl into a ball, but you know that you deserve it. “So you’ve been lying to me this whole fucking time?”
You shook your head, stepping forward and biting your tongue when he moved back.“Only about my family, Alfie. Everything else was me, I’m still the same person.”
He scoffed, refusing to look at you, refusing to feel the tear in his heart at your wet face and red cheeks. “So what was the plan then? Come in like a little sweet thing, get my fucking guard down and rat me out to your brothers?”
“No. God, no, Alfie, it was never like that.” You said honestly, “I swear. I... I didn’t even know who you were until we met. I had no idea Tommy was even...” Explaining yourself feels so futile, you can’t take back the betrayal and the deception no matter how much you want to.
“I can’t even fucking look at you.” His eyes were red and glistening under the candle light and you hated yourself more than ever. You’ve never seen him cry, not even when glass got stuck in his wrist or you poured alcohol on his wounds after a fight, and knowing you’re the reason is as punishing as a death sentence.
“Alfie, please, please, I love you.”
He just shook his head, turning away from you. “Get the fuck out.”
You don’t know how you got to your flat but somehow you did. Somehow you turned your key in the lock and somehow you smashed your mirror and then collapsed onto the floor. Shards of crystal sparkling by your feet, you ran your finger along the edge of one, desperate for the pain you felt you deserved. Your flat is so empty, most of your wardrobe is littered on Alfie’s floor, and the rooms around you smell clinical and bare. You longed for the feel of him behind you, his arms around you and his lips on your throat but you’re comforted by nothing but the dull ache in your stomach. You sat on the floor for what felt like days but it’s probably only been minutes and three sharp raps on the door are what drew you from your daze.
“Alfie?” You said into the dark, running towards the door and flinging it open wanting to leap forward but instead you drop to your knees. Warm hands cradled you before you could hit the floor, pulling you in so close you could drown in the scent of unwanted nostalgia. You cried and wailed, the noise sure to wake every person in the city, as soft fingers rub circles into your back.
“It’s okay, it’s okay, you’re alright.”
You pushed him off of you, “How the fuck is it okay, Tommy?” You snapped, hitting him in the chest, helpless as he grasped your flailing arms. He looked older and wearier, but his ocean eyes were still the same, despite everything you crawled back into his embrace, soaking the fabric of his expensive shirt, mascara marking his collar.
“Let’s get you home, alright?”
#alfie solomons imagine#Alfie Solomons#peaky blinders imagine#peaky blinders oneshot#alfie solomons headcanon#imagines
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TIME COPS [loki fanfic]
NOTES: sup my dudes. this idea for this fanfic has been on my mind since the pictures of Loki as TVA agent were shown. my grammar is not very good my first language is not english but spanish. so if you see a mistake i’m sorry i’ll keep learning as i go. I hope you guys love this story and have a great escape as we wait for that loki trailer and new set pics!! any way enjoy!! Let me know if you want to be tagged for the next chapter!!. <3
SUMMERY: when a witch named sabina is partner with god of mischief to save what we call time. things can only get better or worse. in this case it can be the unknown.
WARNINGS: swearing, mention of blood, death and choking
**PAIRINGS: **loki x main character
**------------------------------------------------------------------ **
**CHAPTER ONE - THE OFFICE **
the cup of coffee that warms my hands and take sips of it as i look around what this people calls office. this place is insane. its like Costco warehouse in drugs. what they do here its not sales or marketing. this is something you see out of a movie
in each desk there was a person with a computer on which they had a case on. you would see them typing like maniacs. In a normal thinking you thought they were working on reports or run downs. But no. they were in fact saving time and keeping it in order. you may ask, where were they when thanos snapped his fingers and half of the universe turned into ash. well same question i have. and i did ask when i was questioned as when i was brought in. the respond that i got was a simple “time will tell”. All this time related shit is staring to annoy me. real hard.
I’m doing what we call in earth community service. i didn’t commit any type of crime whats so ever. i’m here cause the dick bag of my dad decided he was some type of thanos wanna be and tried to mess with dark power and messed up time. now, they couldn’t get there hands on him since he clothed himself so they got the next big thing, me. yay. iv’e never met the man, he left mom and me when i was three years old. not even a photograph i have. yet they think that i can be a tool on bringing him in. i personally don’t know were the accusing me of his crimes fits in you’re going to help us bring him in. but when you see the things they can do with just a wave of their hand. you will comply.
so i sit in my sad desk. my computer is shut down, they yet given me a case. it’s been over a month since been here. all i do is sip my coffee and see my surrounding, i can’t use my magic, the silver bracelet in my right wrist is the cause of that. well here i can’t use it. but in the ‘apartment’ they gave me i can. its the only time i’m bored to death. i only sleep 2 hours if i’m being honest, if i can find my dad faster than they can, then the faster i can get out here and forget all of this. I tried every location spell i know of memory and none were successful. the scars in my hand of the many times i had to cut my hand for blood its stupid. but you are forced out in the way i was and put here to listen and comply like a dog then you will too do anything you can to get out of here. what ever spell he used to hide is a really damn good one. but without my book of shadows theres not many things i can do.
right now it was 12 of clock. in which indicates lunch time. theres a cafeteria were all the employe’s go to eat lunch. i for one enjoy going to lunch. its the onetime where i’m not bored. plus in the month that i have been here i have made a friend. Carlos is a tan guy with brown eyes and hair with glasses. he is funny and occasionally a little paranoid. he was the only one who sat with me in my fist day here. now we laugh about the stupid things people do here and all. the good gossip about who had sex with who.
i sit down on my usual table and Carlos comes with his tray of food. “hey sab, how was you’re day is going”
I sigh and start playing the jello i had in my cup. “same old same old. bored to death and no case it all. you know i’m starting to think that all of this community service is a bunch of bullshit. how can you not made me do anything but drink coffee for a whole month.”
Carlo nods “it is fishy. did you ask commander about it?”
“i did and he said. that soon he will have a task for me and that for now enjoy my free time. whatever that means.”
commander was like the manager here. he orders us around and set the missions or cases. he was the one who questioned me when i got here. blue eyes blonde hair and pedo mustache. the boss, is unknown. no ones knows who he is, or has ever seen them only commander.
Carlos looks to his sides and leans over the table “ I wasn’t going to tell you until i confirmed it was official. but what you just said confirmed it. that soon can be as early as tomorrow. I heard from special forces they have a big mission two hours from now. the orders is to maintain and obtain. and according to my friend what ever they obtain there going to give it to you. its something about you have some same abilities like the thing there were going to obtain”
i lick my lips “ are you sure about that”
he nods. whatever they were going to obtain was magical for sure. something that has same abilities as me? what that could possibly be.
“then i guess i have to prepare” i say as i take of spoonful of the jello and eat it.
“sab please promise me that you will actually sleep more than two hours. you will need you’re strength for whatever this is.” carlo pleads.
i shake my head. “I can’t promise you that. I’m going to do one last location spell with a combination of a reverse cloaking spell. I think this time will work”
“can’t you do that the day after tomorrow. you need to sleep sab and to top all you will need use you’re magic for whatever their going to give you. if you don’t have strength you could die of that over using power” he worries
“don’t you think i know that. I have studied this since i can talk. i know what i’m doing. I need to do this tonight, i don’t if i’m going to be able after they give the task. I promise after this no more.” i take his hand and squeeze it. he cares for me and i for him. he’s the only person who has helped me here. Carlos is like brother to me people like him don’t come often.
“you better sab. I worry for you and you know that” he says with still worries in his eyes.
I smile and let of his hand. “ I know”
**At the apartment **
i sit down at the floor with candle’s around me and map of the world infront of me. i take a knife and slide it across my palm as i let the blood drip on the map, i close my eyes and start my chant. Phasmatos Tribum Nas Ex Veras, Sequita Saguine, Ementas Asten Mihan Ega Petous .
i open my eyes and i see that my blood has not moved it all. I shake my head and try again but the form with of the cloaking spell. I close my eyes once again i take a deep breath and start to chant once again _Phasmatos Tribum Nas Transmata Evo Notus Victus, Pellis Tinctura, Invidium Cala Mactus Sequita Saguine, Ementas Asten Mihan Ega Petous _
once again i open my eyes and i see nothing has happen. “AHH” I yell as i trow one of the candles against the wall. i have tried everything i know by memory. if i can’t find him with my own blood how in the hell they are going to find him. I’m tired of being here. its sad and dark. No windows, only a tv and two rooms a bathroom and a kitchen. i miss my grandma, i miss my life. i’m being used like pawn until they find use of me. I hate it. I hate it so much.
i get up from the floor to walk over to bathroom and clean the new wound i have in my palm. as i clean the cut i start to think what they could have in store of me in just of couple of hours. if carlos was right and this thing was magical it could help me locate my dead beat of a dad. maybe. i take a towel and dry my hands. I look over to the clock on the wall and it reads 1am. at least i will get five hours of sleep this time...
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in the morning
when i woke up, I sit up my bed and looked my self in the mirror. I am tired, but so tired. Carlos was right. I couldn’t have done that spell i’m way too tired. I walk over to closet and i start putting on the ugly ass uniform they made us wear. who ever told this people that a tie and cream shirt was formal needs to choke on their own spit. I brush my hair and clean my teeth. I move over to the kitchen were i make my self some coffee.
I hear a knock on my door. I sigh and i walk over to open the door. that knock means that it was time to go to “work”. every morning a suit up guards comes here and escorts me over to the office. honestly i don’t mind it. kinda feels like i’m beyonce or something.
i open the door. “ hey Greg. what’s up” i say taking a sip of my coffee
greg smiles and “come on, the commander has a task for you”
I tilt my head. “really?” he nods. “yea, so hurry up.”
I nod my head and close the door behind me. Greg was cool. he’s like the bodyguard type like in the princess diaries that kinds feels like a dad figure. also on Fridays he lets me sleep in an hour extra so he’s tight.
when we arrive to the office and escorted to the commanders office. I open up the door and walk in. the commander looks up to me and smiles.”good morning Sabina. I want you to meet you’re new partner. Mr. Odinson”
I look over to the chair infront of the desk to see a man stand up and turn around to great me and when i saw that man give that smile, i knew.
it was the bitch who destroyed mahattan.
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I hope you liked the first chapter of TIME COPS!!. pls give me some feed back and if you want to be tagged for next time i post pls pls tell me. if theres some grammar errors i am so so sorry i am still learning and my first language is not english.
see you next chapter!!! love you bu’s!! <3
#loki#Loki Laufeyson#loki odinson#lokiedit#loki fanfiction#loki x reader#valkyrie x loki#loki x main character#tom hiddleston#Avengers#time cops#tva#loki series#fanfiction#funny#space travel
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Hi! Can I pls get a match? (Also, HBD!) I'm a calm person that goes with the flow, and I can also be playful, quickwitted and friendly. I actually have quite a temper but people can't tell because I talk myself down inwardly and simmer down before I say/do anything rash. I'm independent, but would like to learn to rely on others more (I never talk about my problems/etc to other people) I'm level headed in times of emergencies or dramas, but do get easily spooked by jumpscares and the like. 1/? ♧
As an animal I'd might be a fox (curious, strategic, sly - sometimes) Some of my hobbies are singing, reading, writing, baking, playing games, watching anime & piano. I also do horse-riding, archery, violin & ballet. I rlike learning new things and hate it when people ridicule others because of something they enjoy (ex: making fun of a guy for doing ballet) People say I need to pamper myself more because I'm not the type the buy things for myself, but I do have a liking towards desserts- 2/? ♧ -so my leisure money would go towards buying tiramisu and chocolates rather than clothing and makeup. I unfortunately am not used to physical affection, but wouldn't mind trying to get past that and be more comfortable with it. A close friend of mine once described me as "a fish you can't catch" - in school I suppose I've always held people at arm's length with also getting to know them? (Its like, we're friends and quite close but in the end they don't actually know much about me) 3/? ♧ - it's not that I'm paranoid of sharing things about myself, but instead me being unsure of social cues and whether or not people want to hear more about me - but this has also made me into a good listener, and I'm able to be unbiased judgements - I can be brutally honest if asked, but I'm always making sure that I don't go too overboard and keep the person I'm talking to in mind. In terms of genres I like mystery/fantasy. I'm a bit of a romantic inside, but I don't express that normally 4/? ♧ When there's drama in school I'm normally a bystander, but on occasion I'll know some inside information because of my friends. In conclusion I guess I'm the type of person that feels a lot but doesn't nessesarily express them all to others? But I'm also a good confidant if needed, and if prompted I can be an asset in strategy-type situations. I'm creative and sometimes (if you prompt me enough) can act on impulse to prove someone wrong, but I also know when to back out from a fight. Tysm! 5/5 ♧
Hi, sorry for being extremely late, but I hope you like the result!
So to me you sound like a highly motivated and ambitious person with an open but calm mind, and you have a really good self control. You’re also probably a mature person emotionally and I think I should pair you with someone who you won’t have to raise to your standars, but they are already there. Also someone who makes you redefine your definition of friendship, so this person (demon) would actually get to know you and build a deep and mature relationship based on bestfriendship with you.
This narrows down the circle to Barbatos but as much I like him I don’t want to write him until we get to know like a bit more about him (i havent started the new lessons yet so no spoiler pls). Other possible candidates could be Lucifer and Satan. I will pair you with Satan because we all know about how he really is behind his nerd facade.
So some more detailed information:
As I said before, you should be with someone who knows how to control their emotions.
And based on the fact how he is the avatar of wrath, we haven’t really seen him being anything but calm in the story. (sure sometimes he gets annoyed but that happens to the best of us) So that leads me to the conclusion that he actually tries hard not to let his emotions control him.
This is what gives this relationship a deeper understanding. Don’t think he can’t see you holding back yourself when Mammon talks down on you in the first couple of weeks of your stay. And when you finally snap, Satan will be proud of you from the sidelines.
I think this gives a strong foundation to your relationship.
I think he likes your independence, really the only thing wrong with that is that sometimes when he offers help just to hang out with you, you refuse and he takes that as rejection.
So after the first time that happened, he starts to fall back and would rather just observe from his distance again.
BUT HERE IS THE TWIST
He is actually really good at reading people, right, so very quickly he would realize that you actually just like to keep your distance from others and party thats probably why you said no when he asked to help with something school related. Now everything makes sense all of a sudden.
So slowly but surely he would try again to get to know you, and he would 100% have a conversation about this just to make sure he is on the right page with this and you don’t actually dislike him.
I think he would be fascinated by the fact that you do so many things, like archery, etc etc! Theres always a good conversation with someone who’s life is so interesting!
Oh he would definitely call you out on you being too humble with yourself.
When he invites you on a date it is probably the best sweets place in the Devildom! He keeps his notes about your likes!
One thing about his character that gets overlooked sometimes is that he actually kind of likes being outside, like going on walks or stargazing and stuff, and he would definitely invite you with him!
You being a good listener also comes in handy, he has a lot to talk about regarding his feelings. And again, you are someone who understands feelings well, and he has lots of deep-emotion talk! Hopefully that will make you like him more, I mean it’s not everyday he open up like this!
I think he would talk with you about your favourite genres and shows/books, so really there’s always something to talk about! which is good when you really want to get to know someone.
I don’t think he would ever take advantage of you being unsure about intimacy, so no worries about that!
I think he appreciates that you usually don’t do anything that causes conflict, but it’s up to you whether or not you join in his pranks on Lucifer!
So in conclusion this is a relationship where the two of you understand the other on a deep level, and this time that’s really true for you too! He probably wouldn’t give up on getting over your walls unless you directly tell him that you don’t want him at all. He really needs your support, and let’s be honest, he can support you just as well in return!
#obey me#obey me!#om!#obey me satan#satan obey me#obey me shall we date#swd obey me#obey me swd#obey me matchup
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There Are Harder Addictions to Shake - Oneshot
Jim Mason x fem!reader (dark!jim)
Words: 3.9K
Request: for @alexcornerblog my girl has waited a long time for this!
Summary: You’ve just made your relationship with Jim official, however it isn’t long before Jim starts to smother you, fixating on your relationship to cope with the damage in his life. As Jim grows obsessive what will you be forced to do? What will he do to win you back?
Warning: PG-13 fic! Contains an obsessive and unhealthy relationship! Please do be warned, Jim is not the sweet peach we all know and love. Swearing! Emotional Manipulation! Drug use! Obsessive love! Stalking! Fluff! Time Jumps!
A/N: dark!jim is back, but I didn’t want this to go down a dubcon route! Jim is very emotionally unstable in this, the reader becomes his new fixation. I’ve been through/and am still dealing with a relationship where I have been emotionally manipulated so pls do be careful with partners and friends! There is fluff at the beginning though! I hope you all enjoy 🙈
(Gif by @hardyfern)
The night was everything I had hoped it would be, he was soft and tender, Jim’s fingers traced everywhere I wanted them to be, pulling sounds from me I didn’t know I could make. It wasn’t my first time, but he made it feel like it was. We were facing each other on our pillows, Jim’s legs wrapped around mine and he told me I was his lighthouse. His shining beam guiding him through the shit he’s trying to deal with. It was romantic, poetic and I fell asleep wondering how I got so lucky with this sweet, kind boy.
I wake to find Jim out on the balcony. I glance at my phone, it’s early - 7:06am. He’s not wearing a shirt, Jim doesn’t look cold standing only his boxers without a care in the world. A curl of smoke rises in the morning air from Jim’s lit cigarette, his lips taking a long drag. He looks delicious, Jim’s got a surfer’s body full of well-built muscle and sinewy arms. He catches sight of me watching from mu bed, puts out his cigarette and leaps on top of the duvet. I laugh escapes me, “Morning.”
“Good Morning.” He greets, propping his head up on his hand, “Thanks for letting me stay over.”
“You think I was going to throw you out after last night?”
Jim’s eyes sparkle, “I hoped not.” Jim takes me in from my rumpled hair to where my body hides behind the duvet, “You’re so beautiful.”
I’m blushing and reach for the hairbrush on my bedside table. Jim crawls up between my legs, “Let me.” He offers, taking the brush and running it through my hair. I’ve never had a boy care for me like this, I can feel his fingers slide through the knots till my hair is smooth once again. “I meant what I said last night.” Jim’s sat himself cross-legged before me, my legs spread open to accommodate him. “I don’t think I’d survive without you.”
I pull his face in for a kiss. “Don’t say that,” I whisper when we break apart. “You have so much to live for, Jim.”
“I only feel like that when you’re near though.” He admits, turning over and lying his head in my lap. Jim basks in his new-found position, my fingers running into his hair and massaging his scalp.
A yawn escapes me, “Are you coming back to bed?”
Jim nods, climbing under the covers and spooning me tight against his chest. I start to drift off, Jim pressing kisses into my neck when a phone blares. I start, accidentally elbowing him and Jim grunts in pain, rolling over to check the Caller ID on both phones.
“Sorry.” I call, “It’s it me?’
Jim lets out a cry of frustration and chucks his phone across the room. It hits my wardrobe, still singing away as Jim pulls the duvet back up over his shoulders.
“Leave it.” He orders, “Just my fucking Mom, again.”
“Did you tell her you were coming over?”
Jim scowls, “She would never let me come over if I told her.”
I don’t know Sandy that well. We met once when I was heading out of school with Jim and she gave us a ride to the beach. She asked me a hundred questions about PV, where I lived and if my pool was one acre or two. Jim was mouthing apologies the entire ride, squeezing my hand until Sandy told him to stop. Jim’s phone dies down and I don’t question it. We all have moments when we don’t want to hear from our parents, I can respect that. Jim resumes kissing the back of my neck, I roll over eager for some more action. Jim obliges at once, kissing me deeply, “I’ll never tire of this.��� He says, “I’ll kiss you forever if I can.”
I nuzzle my head onto his chest and Jim lies back, letting me sleep against him. I can feel his heartbeat hammering away, “Why are you nervous?” I ask, my eyes going back to his phone. There’s a steady stream of notifications on there, piling up on top of each other.
“My Mom just gets me so riled up.” He admits, “And my Dad.”
“You know you’re welcome here whenever you want.”
“Do you mean that?”
I nod, pressing a kiss into Jim’s chest. “If you need an escape, just let me know.”
Jim and I are friends, we have been since the Mason’s moved here. Medina, Jim and I are a unit, we spend all our free time together and I kinda feel guilty for leaving Medina behind. But Jim always set my heart aflutter, he brought out the best in me, lavished me with his attention and I gave it all back in return. “What are you thinking about?” Jim asks, “Tell me what you desire?”
I snigger at his attempt to be smooth, “Thinking about last night, about us.”
“Oh yeah?” He smirks, “What are we?”
“I was going to ask you?”
I smile up at him and Jim kisses me again, “I’m yours.” He vows, “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
Jim’s phone blasts again. He groans, dragging his pillow over his head.
I give in, climb out of bed and fetch his phone for him. I dare not answer it, the Caller ID clearly says MOM. I wait for it to stop ringing and check the notifications. “Jim, there’s over ten missed calls here.” I tell him, “She’s probably worried about you if she doesn’t know where you are.”
“Medina knows.” Jim protests from under his pillow, “Medina will have told her where I am. She’s just fucking paranoid, she won’t leave me alone.”
I climb back onto the bed. Jim peeks at me, removing the pillow so I can see one eye. I hold his phone out to him, “I think you should head home.” I say, carefully.
His expression darkens, “You want me to go?”
“Of course not.” I say, “But I don’t want to upset your Mom.”
Jim doesn’t reply but he looks desolate.
I pull him into me for a hug, “At least call her back, tell her you’re safe.”
He kisses me goodbye, promising to be back over as soon as he can slip away. Thankfully my parents aren’t up yet, so Jim sneaks out successfully and once he’s gone I jump right back into bed.
When I wake again it’s around mid-day. I’ve slept longer than I expected to but I don’t mind, my body tingles from last night and I lie there for a few minutes re-imagining how Jim suckled at my neck, how he fed on my breasts while he pumped in and out of me. My phone pings with a text from the boy in my fantasies - Are you up yet? Beach at 1, Medina’s already out.
It’s a weekend, of course Medina’s getting in as much surfing time as she can. I put on a swim-suit, the one Jim likes with the plunging neckline. It isn’t one to seriously swim in, but after last night I’m feeling risky.
Medina’s is indeed already surfing when I pull up in my car, I hop out and grab my tote bag. She’s such a professional already, learning tricks off Dan Adder or so Jim tells me. She waves at me from the sea and I wave back, locating her stuff and laying out my towel. Medina swims for the shoreline, her arms powerful, her body flat on the board.
When she arrives she shakes water over me and I scream, “Where was my brother last night?”
I give her a look, “You know where.”
Medina has a shit-eating grin on her face, “Did he finally tell you?”
I nod and Medina nearly punches the air in triumph, “Thank God, I am so sick of keeping his moaning, pining ass a secret from you.”
“Why, how long has it been?” I’m curious because Jim and I being more than friends has completely snuck up on me. I had thought this was just a natural progression, I had no idea Jim’s feelings had been going on for a while.
Medina considers and then plops down next to me, “You can’t tell him because he will kill me.” She begins, “But he’s had it bad since you stood up to Chad.”
“That was months ago.”
“Now you know how hard it’s been.” Medina grins, “All the Medinaaaa, how do I speak to her. I don’t wanna ruin what we have, but she’s so pretty and confident blahhhhh.” I push her over and check my phone. Medina comes rolling right back her eyes scanning my swimsuit, “So you’re not here to surf.”
“Nope.”
“Slut.”
I tap her, “We don’t use words like that do we, Medina.”
‘I’m only trying to wind you up.” I shoot her a frown, suddenly regretting my choice of swimwear. I tug at the neckline and Medina pushes my hands away, “I’m sorry.” She apologies, “You look stunning, I mean it. Jim’s lucky.”
“I know I am.”
He’s snuck up on us, Jim sitting right beside me and kissing my cheek. Medina fights her revulsion, “Well I’m gonna go disappear into the sea again.”
“Bye.” Jim calls, waving her away and I laugh again. Jim presses me down into the towel, kissing me so deeply I have to push him away to get some air. “What are you doing tonight?”
“I have homework.” I tell him, “Considering I didn’t get any done last night-”
“We’re going out.” Jim informs me, “Seven.” You look away out to the waves. Medina catches a huge wave and I give her a cheer as she styles it out, Jim keeps watching me, “Well?”
I kiss him, “Homework. If I get a lot done then I’ll let you know.”
Studying goes slow, despite my endless cups of tea to try and keep me going. I don’t get Maths and it doesn’t seem to get me either. I look up from my pile of notes when there’s a knock at my door, “Jim?” I push myself up, “I said I’d text you.”
“You’re Mom’s so nice.” He says, completely ignoring me. He picks up your calculus book and catches my stony expression, “I wanted to come and help you.”
“You hate maths.” I remind him, taking back my book.
“I’m okay at it though.”
You let it slide, taking a sip of tea.
It isn’t long before Jim is sitting next to me. He’s flipping through my notebook, smiling at the doodles he comes across. His voice interrupts my studying, “Who’s N?”
“Don’t remember.”
‘Why is there a heart?”
Jim is hiding his irritation. His mouth is a harsh line, his eyes frozen on the scribble. I kiss his cheek, “Relax, it’s Nathan from Medina’s Biology class. She likes him.”
Jim doesn’t seem convinced though, “You like me, right?”
I stare at him, “Of course. I wouldn’t have let the other night happen if not.”
Jim’s fingers lace in mine, “You’re the best thing in my life Y/N. You and Medina.”
“I know.”
Jim pulls me in, kissing wherever he can reach. His hands slide my shirt up, cupping my breasts, ‘Jim.”
“I want you.” He moans, “Wanna make you mine again.”
He squeezes and a sound of pleasure leaves my lips. My homework forgotten about as I let Jim lie down and pull me on top of him. I straddle his waist, my hair falling into my eyes. Jim’s runs his hands over my stomach, tugging my top off. Books and notes scatter on the floor as I surge down to kiss Jim, “Y/N?”
We both freeze, it’s Mom. I jump off Jim right as the door opens but Mom is already inside my bedroom, “Heard of knocking?” I ask, seizing my top. But she’s already seen me standing in my bra, Jim’s hair ruffled as he lies in the mess we’ve made of my bed.
Jim doesn’t look sheepish at all, he just waves from the bed, “Thanks for letting me in again.”
Mom shakes her head, “So there is something going on between you two.”
“Jim and I are…”
“I’m her boyfriend.” Jim declares, “We made it official last night.”
Mom beams, “Finally.”
The second Mom has shut the door, Jim springs off the bed and pull me to him. He kisses me deep, the kind that burns into my soul. Our lips mash together Jim pressing his entire being into me. When we break apart he looks jubilant, “Hey girlfriend.”
“Hey.” I say, still whoozy from his kiss.
I slide past him and start gathering up my notes, “Jim, it’s sweet of you to come over. But I really need to finish this.”
My laptop pings into life and I dump my notes on my desk. Jim hasn’t spoken though and when I turn round he still stood in the spot I left him in, motionless. “You don’t want me here?”
“Not if you keep distracting me.”
Jim looks away, I turn back to my laptop but I feel suddenly guilty. But I shouldn’t, I need to get this homework done, “I can’t go home.” Jim appears beside me, “Mom’s really bad tonight.”
I pause, taking in my new boyfriend. “Well if you’re gonna stay you’ve got to be quiet till l’m done.”
Jim nods, pulling out his phone and a pair of earbuds, “Let me know when you’re finished.” He says, “You won’t know I’m here.”
Jim’s true to his word, I don’t hear him till I’ve completed my chapter and written up all my maths notes. I don’t really understand them, but I hope I’ve taken some in subliminally while writing. I find Jim back out on my balcony. He’s swaying back and forth to music, watching the stars hanging above. I tap his shoulder, “All finished.”
He takes out an earbud, “So you’re all mine?”
“All yours.” I declare, wrapping my arms round his neck. Jim hands me the earbud and I can hear Florence and the Machine playing softly. He pulls me in, rocking us back and forth. It feels peaceful, like everything I ever wanted.
Jim’s earbud falls out but I don’t mind. His lips are moving though, almost absentmindedly, “If I can’t have you no one else can.”
I wasn’t meant to hear it. Jim’s words send a chill though me that I would never have suspected. He catches my movement, his hands rubbing at my arms. “You cold?”
I nod, letting him lead the way back inside. Jim grabs your laptop and makes himself comfortable on your bed, “Movie?”
“Should we invite Medina?” I know why I’ve said it, Jim’s words still playing round my mind.
Jim shakes his head, “She doesn’t wanna third wheel.”
I join him on the bed, “We should get her together with Nathan, then.”
Jim’s expression sours, “Sure. Great.”
I let him pick the movie, Jim pulling me against his chest. I don’t listen to a word, I don’t even know what we’ve decided on. The hours tick by while I’m caught up in my thoughts till finally the movie ends and we go to bed. I don’t sleep at all, I just watch the beautiful boy next to me. His expression innocent, his lips tugged up in a tiny smile. His words haunt me, a promise I never should have heard.
Jim’s calls become excessive. I spend more time with Medina, we both know I’m avoiding Jim. I tell her about what I heard and Jim’s twin is surprised, but she isn’t as freaked as I am. “He’s been through a lot.” Medina says, “He’s just being protective. He’s wanted you for a long time.”
As we enter a month into our relationship Jim only gets clingier. He drives us to school and takes me home, usually overstaying his welcome. He’s a distraction, my grades are dropping and I’ve started to stay longer in school. I walk home when I can, slipping out when Jim isn’t looking.
We have our first argument the day Jim catches me heading home with Medina. I told Jim I had an after-school careers meeting so I could get some hours away from him and he caught us at the beach. It was horrible, but Jim’s tears and paranoia only confirmed my worst thoughts - he’s becoming too much.
“You’re so selfish.” He cries, “How could you lie to me?”
“I need my space, Jim.” I try to tell him. “You control every aspect of my life.”
His mouth drops open, “I do not.”
“You’re smothering me.” I tell him, “You pick me up and take me home, you stay too long at my house. I can’t do anything without you anymore.”
“Well I’m sorry for wanting to spend time with you.”
“It’s just too much.”
Medina looks between the two of us, “Jim you have been a bit full-on-”
“Don’t you dare.” Jim rounds on her, “You don’t have a say in this.” He cups my cheeks, “Y/N, all I want is your love. What has brought this on?”
A tear leaks out of my eye, “I heard you, Jim.”
“You heard me?”
“On the balcony.” I say, avoiding his crystalline eyes. “I heard you say that if you can’t have me no one else can.”
Jim scoffs, “You took that seriously?”
“How else I am meant to take it?”
“Baby, you’re overreacting.” Jim says, “I just-”
“I just…no one has made me feel the way you have. I feel safe with you, I feel loved.” He kisses me and I have no choice but to let him, “I’ve loved you for so long.”
I look into his eyes. Jim is completely convinced that what he’s doing is alright, that his obsession is just an act of love. He thinks I should be moved by this level of devotion.
I take his chin in my thumb and index finger, “You need help, Jim.”
His face turns violent. Jim’s eyes cloud over with something I’ve never seen before, “I do not need help.” He seizes my arms, “I don’t need help!” He repeats.
Medina shoves her brother, “What the hell? Let her go, Jim.”
Jim realises his mistake at once. He lets me go, taking a step back. His eyes fall on Medina, “Shit, what am I doing?”
I start to pack up my things, shoving them into my duffle bag. “Don’t follow me, Jim.”
Panic grips him, “What are you doing?”
“There’s no middle with you.” I try to reason with him once more, “When it’s good it’s great but when it’s bad you’re so clingy and you won’t let me go even for five minutes and I don’t want to lie to you. It’s worse than then...”
A silence stretches between us, “I’ve been clean for months.” Jim states, his voice low.
“I just need to breathe.” I say, “It’s like you’re obsessed.”
“I am not!” Jim seizes me again, “You are my life, Y/N. You and Medina, I can’t survive without you.”
I wrench myself out of his arms, “Don’t call me.” I order, grabbing my bag and heading to the car. “I need time.”
I race to my car, Medina following me. “Are you breaking up with me?” Jim calls, but I don’t turn back. “Y/N!” He screams, giving chase. “You can’t break up with me!”
“Stop, Jim.” Medina shouts, “You’re too much.”
But Jim’s beside himself. He collapses into the sand, “Is it Nathan? I’ll find that fucking prick! I can’t let you go!” He shouts, “You can’t leave me. I need you now more than ever. You selfish bitch!”
I unlock the car and sit inside, Medina sliding into the passenger seat. I catch Jim’s red eyes, he looks so lost and desolate on his knees in the sand. The wind ruffles his hair and he’s still speaking, but I can no longer hear him.
I prefer it that way, maybe it’s better if I never hear from him again.
Two months into our ‘relationship’ and Jim has taken up stalking me outside my house. It isn’t really a relationship, I don’t speak to Jim but he tries to win me back every second he can. He doesn’t stop calling my phone so I end up throwing it out the window. It landed at Jim’s feet and died in his hand, the screen spiderwebbed and useless. Mom’s worried, so is Dad. They don’t let Jim inside anymore, though I can hear him begging from the hallway. They’re trying to protect me, but it’s damaging Jim too. I don’t want to see him suffer, but what can I do?
He tries to break into the house and my parents call the police. They drag Jim away in handcuffs and threaten him with a restraining order. He’s crying, begging to see me because I can tell the cops it’s just a misunderstanding. We’ve just had an argument and he’s here to apologise.
I let them take him away and Sandy’s round the next day because Jim spent the night in jail.
He follows me at school, the bags evident under Jim’s eyes. He’s been called into the Principals’ office numerous times and they’ve been made aware of his trip to the Police Office. Three months into this nightmare Medina tells me that Jim has been suspended.
“They think he’s using again because of the bags under his eyes.” She tells me, the two of us watching Jim from my bedroom window. He sits on the bonnet of his car, staring up at us. He doesn’t move that much, his gaze locked on me, biding his time.
I swallow, “It seems there are worse addictions.”
Medina takes my hand, “I’m scared, Y/N.” She whispers, “He’s not eating, he’s violent. I don’t want to be around him, he’s consumed with you.”
I can’t let Medina be at risk in her own home. I know what I have to do, “Will you go get him?”
Medina splutters, “A...are you sure?”
I sit down at my desk, listening to the sound of Medina’s dying footsteps. She’s running to get Jim, seizing the chance to have us make amends. It must be torture for her, the brother and the best-friend and she’s right in the middle. I close my laptop lid and wait for the Mason twins to enter, but Medina isn’t there. Only Jim stands before me, “Where is-”
“Doesn’t matter.” Jim looks even wilder than I thought. His hair is a mess, clumps sticking up in tufts. His eyes are bloodshot, glassy and I can smell the drugs from here.
“Get out.” I snap, “I’m not doing this while you’re drugged. You said you were clean.”
“Oh I was.” Jim’s voice is cracking and deeper than I’ve ever heard it. “But you make me do the craziest things, Y/N.”
Fear ripples through me, “Leave.”
“No baby, no.” Jim stumbles over to me and drops to his knees. He places his hands on my thighs, “I’m never going to leave you again now I’m here.”
He takes out a key from his jacket pocket at waves it in front of your face, “Guess what this is?” I don’t want to know, my eyes watching the key wave back and forth. “This is where we’re gonna live.” Jim grins, “Just you and me. I’ll be perfect, we’ll let Medina visit on the weekends, we’ll have a cat. It’s by the beach and you’re gonna love it. One bedroom, of course.”
“What the fuck?” I breathe, “You aren’t serious?”
Jim’s grip on me tightens, “I’ve never been more serious about anything.”
“Where did you get the money to afford it?” I challenge, pushing his hands off. “Tell me, Jim.”
He giggles, falling back onto his heels. The key slips from his hands, “My Mom’s so stupid.” He says, “She leaves Dad’s black credit card just on the coffee table. Cause sweet, innocent Jim would never ever use it for anything.” Jim looks so triumphant, so pleased with himself. “We’re getting out, baby. You and me, we’ll be together forever.”
I make my move, surging for the front door. “Medina!”
Jim beats me to it, slamming my bedroom door shut and pinning himself against it. “Uh uh.”
I shove him, “Open the door right now.”
“You should be careful, Y/N.” Jim warns, “You don’t know who will try and take advantage of you when you’re parents are out.” Of course he knows they aren’t here. He’s been watching the house for days, creeping out my entire family. Jim smirks, “Date night at Beluca’s right?”
“Fuck you.” I hiss, “There is no way I am going to live with you in your fucked little fantasy.”
“You don’t have a choice.” Jim’s fingers play with my hair, “You belong to me, Y/N. You were always destined to be mine, just as you will always have me.” He leaves bites down my neck, his lips attacking me and sucking on every spare inch of skin he can find. “We’re gonna have the best life.” He murmurs, nuzzling into me, “We don’t need PV or school or anyone. Just each other and when we’re nice and settled I’m gonna fuck a baby into you. We’ll have the most beautiful children, a boy and a girl.” Jim pecks you on the lips, “Doesn’t it sound like heaven?”
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#dark!jim#obsessive love#poor reader!#Jim Mason#The Tribes of Palos Verdes#stalker#obsession#addictions#emotional manipulation#pls be careful guys#break-up#the angst#jim mason imagine#jim mason x you#jim mason x reader#pg-13#cliffhanger!#Jim's gone off the rails#oneshot#request#i'm sorry !#AHHHHHHH!#medina mason#fluff#when the oneshot does a 180#Cody Fern#michael langdon#Duncan Shepherd
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Hiiii🔍👀 can I request 15, 25, 78 with dramaaa and angst (but not this cheating shit pls my heart can't take it 😔) with baek or jongdae 💓 oh and an happy ending please ?
15.- She is obviously hitting on you.
25.- Stop crying.
78.- Did you get into a fight?
Hi! Thank you so much for requesting sweetheart, I hope you like it!💕💕
-
You knew since the first moment Jongdae suggested you to come with him to the party SM was hosting that it wasn’t a good idea.
You wouldn’t consider yourself a big fan of social events and much less if you barely knew anyone.
And now there you were, waiting for your boyfriend, the one who told you almost an hour ago that he was going to grab some drinks for the both of you but never came back.
“Suho, have you seen Jongdae?” You asked when you saw him passing by, but he shook his head.
You kept wandering around the big room until you saw him.
You were going to reproach him but you stopped yourself when you saw him talking with a random girl.
You wouldn’t define yourself as someone jealous but this girl was too close to your boyfriend for your liking.
Before something could really happen, you approached to them.
“Jongdae, what are you doing? I’ve been waiting for you for almost an hour.” You said.
“Oh Y/n! Sorry, I saw Hyeyeon and we caught up, I didn’t know we have been talking for this long.” He explained, smiling to you.
You didn’t smile back but looked Hyeyeon instead.
She had an innocent smile in her face, and even though you were now next to them, she was as close to him as she was before.
“Mmh... Jongdae can we talk?” You asked.
“Yeah! Of course.” He said.
“Alone.”
He seemed to understand what you meant, so he said goodbye to his friend and you went to a more secluded place.
“Who was she?” You asked.
“She is my friend, I already told you.” Jongdae said.
“Wasn’t she too close to you?” You asked again.
“What do you mean?” He asked confused.
“She is obviously hitting on you, Jongdae” You said raising your voice a little.
“What? Stop being so paranoid y/n, she wasn’t hitting on me.” He defended.
“Jongdae, you have left me alone in a party where I barely know three people and when I go to look for you, I found that you are talking with some chick who is smiling at my boyfriend like a stupid while touching his hair and almost touching your arms.” You exploded.
“Think whatever you want y/n, but I’m not gonna argue with you right here.” He said and he left you there, alone.
You couldn’t help but cry, you felt the tears fall down your cheeks.
“Y/n?” A voice called and you turned back, a curious Minseok was looking at you, and his eyes widened when he saw you crying. “Hey, what happened!? Are you okay?” He asked placing his hand in your shoulder.
You shook your head and tried to calm yourself, but your tears kept falling.
“Hey, it’s okay, stop crying, where is Jongdae?” He asked and for the expression of your face, he understood the situation.
“Did you get in a fight?” He asked and you nodded.
He sighed and placed his other hand in your shoulder too. “I’m gonna drive you home.”
-
You looked how the time passed, Chen wasn’t still home and you were starting to get worried.
Suddenly, the front door opened and closed, and a sad Jongdae appeared in your vision.
He looked at you, calmly sitting in the sofa and he sat next to you, hugging you by the waist and hiding his face in the hollow of your neck
“I’m so sorry baby, I shouldn’t have acted like that.” He whispered.
You placed your hand in the top of his head. “I’m sorry too, I shouldn’t have said all that things.” You confessed but he shook his head.
“You were in your rights baby, I left you alone for an hour and the conversation with Hyeyeon wasn’t even that interesting, she just kept talking about some boring stuff and I wasn’t even paying attention.” He said.
You giggled quietly and he looked at you. “Am I forgiven?” He asked and you nodded with a smile.
He smiled too and pecked your lips. “Let’s go to sleep baby, we both need it.” He said.
#exo#exo drabbles#exo angst#exo fluff#exo scenarios#exo imagine#exo scenario#exo imagines#exo chen#exo jongdae#jongdae#kim jongdae#chen angst#chen fluff#chen scenario#chen imagine#jongdae fluff#jongdae angst#jongdae scenario#jongdae scenarios#jongdae imagine#jongdae imagines
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Fright or Flight: Chapter 2
Parings: Prinxiety // Logicality // Platonic LAMP
Story Summary: Virgil and Patton investigate the New Prince Castle, when a brutal accident kills Patton. Patton wakes as a ghost and meets friendly ghoul Roman, who has been haunting the castle for 20 years. Virgil is determined to bring Patton back to life and brings Logan, the ghost expert, to help him out. Time is quickly running out, and the four must work together to undo death. If only it was as simple as Logan made it sound.
Unknown to them, a secret entity in the castle does not plan on letting them succeed.
Previous Chapter Next Chapter
When Patton first met Virgil, his last intention was to become friends with him. Virgil had built up a notorious reputation over the first few months of school, and his grades did nothing to disprove his status. Patton wasn’t the type to judge a person’s character based on rumors nor looks. No one was a higher believer in the benefit of doubt than Patton! However, Virgil’s first impression did not help his case.
Virgil transferred into Patton’s English class the second semester due to a schedule change. When the teacher stated a new team project was to be completed, Patton did not shy away from offering to be Virgil’s partner. He understood how difficult it could be being the new kid in a class full of friends and cliques.
The project was hefty, an collection of novel analyzing, essays, vocabulary, and journal entries. Patton was not looking forward to the Shakespearean project-Shakespeare’s language was alien to him. It occurred to Patton that pairing up with the soon-to-be-dropout may not have been his best idea. Nonetheless, Patton refused to be jaded.
The first day of the project, Virgil refused to touch the work.
“There’s no way I’m touching this project.” Virgil sneered. “Especially about Shakespeare.”
“Huh?” Patton had not fully processed Virgil’s words. “Is it because you don’t understand it?”
“Sure.”
“Neither can I! I guess Shakespeare really has our brains shaken up! Maybe we can ask the teacher to go over it for us?”
The teen huffed and shook his head. Virgil laid his head on the wooden desk and his eyes slipped closed. He napped for the rest of the period.
His behavior continued for weeks. Patton had tried everything in his power to get Virgil to help him out. Patton’s seemingly endless supply of compliments and encouraging gestures served no help.
Patton’s mind had conjured countless excuses for Virgil since Virgil himself refused to give one. At the beginning the excuses had seemed feasible. Lack of sleep? Family issues? However, by week three, Patton was already scraping the bottom of the barrel, trying to justify Virgil’s dismissive attitude with clones and possible mind control. Virgil was no closer to lifting up a pencil, there were ten days left of the project, and Patton still understood little to nothing about Shakespeare. Patton was flying solo and time was ticking.
The final week before the project was due, Patton caught the flu.
Patton would chalk up the flu to the top three sucky sicknesses of his lifetime. His fever was raging, his skin drowning in sweat while the insides of him iced over. Patton couldn’t tell when being awake ended and when sleep began. The only alarm in Patton’s body was the churning in his gut that rushed him to the toilet.
Understandably, the project was the last thing on his mind.
Patton would not remember his Shakespeare mission until the Sunday before it was due, when he was shaking off the final remnants of the flu. The realization hit him like a train, but by the time he went flying off his bed and hurriedly logging on to his computer to check the time, Patton knew it was hopeless. There was no way he could get the project done in a few hours and counting. Not when all his energy was going into fighting of sneezes and headaches.
Patton was dejectedly scrolling through his email filled with newsletters from adoption sites and animal protection agencies when a subject line caught his eye: “English Project.” Linked to the email were word documents and an audio file. Perplexedly, Patton opened the email.
From: [email protected]
Subject: English Project
Patton,
so apparently you’ve been sick. class is way more quiet without you their, which is wierd.
i think i did everything you hadn’t done. it’s gonna be really mispelled and confusing and shit. sorry. i’m not the best with righting. feel free to fix anything.
get well soon.
-V
p.s. sorry for acting like a jerk. i owe you a explanation monday.
Patton hugged his computer screen and laugh with relief. He had no idea why Virgil was so nervous. His ideas were brilliant. A week later, Patton would see an A in his gradebook for the Shakespeare project.
There was a reason why Patton never lost faith in people.
True to his word, the next week Virgil explained his mistreatment to Patton. Virgil struggled with dyslexia. While he was getting tutoring in overcoming his learning disability, Virgil’s writing made him incredibly insecure. His old teacher always let him work individually, but the new teacher wasn’t having it. Before class, the teacher pulled him aside and told Virgil he was no different from any other student and would have to work with a partner. Virgil, determined to spite the teacher and anxious to seem like an “idiot” in front of Patton, would pretend to sleep the whole period.
“All your writing took was a quick grammar fix. The ideas were so good! I’m not just saying that to say that, they actually were! I could never think of something like that.” Patton reassured enthusiastically.
Virgil flushed a bright red. “I didn’t do much. Shakespeare is a lot easier to understand with audio.”
Patton listened to the audiobook of Macbeth that night. Virgil clearly wasn’t giving himself enough credit.
Virgil and Patton quickly grew close once the project was done. Virgil was still quiet, snappy, moody, and detrimentally insecure, but he began to open up more as the months went on. By senior year, Patton and Virgil was joined at the hip. Two peas in a pod.
Virgil had grown a lot since freshman year.
Being joined at the hip with Virgil meant that Patton got to understand Virgil by the simplest change in body language or expression. It also meant that Patton became aquatinted with anyone close to Virgil.
Patton already had a bad feeling while Virgil’s tone had shifted on the phone the night they were chatting about yearbook quotes. Remy sending Patton a text only confirmed the ball of dread in his stomach.
Rem: pat can we talk ?
Patton: You don’t even have to ask! Everything ok?
Rem: it’s about v
Rem: have you guys talked recently ? out of school
Patton: We talked last weekend. Over the phone. Why? Is Virgil fine??
Rem: idk. he came over to my house a couple nights ago at like 5 am. talked about some ghost shit.
Patton: He woke you up to talk about ghosts??(language!)
Rem: looking for affirmation that he wasn’t some obsessed ghost freak. i told him nah
Rem: but tbh he kinda is obsessed
Patton: He is passionate about his ghosts! But that’s not a bad thing.
Rem: v strongly disagrees. the whole thing about the yearbook and ghost quotes really messed with his head
Patton: I didn’t mean anything bad by it! It was just an idea! I promise! I’ll apologize to him!!!
Rem: wait no thats not what im saying. no one blames u
Rem: is he doing any ghost stuff anytime soon
Patton: Yep. He’s going to visit a castle!
Patton: Is that bad?
Rem: don’t you remember last time v became paranoid abt something? he pulled some real stupid stuff just to prove ppl wrong
Patton: Yeah. I know.
Patton: Gosh now I’m worried :(
Rem: i just dont want him doing anything he’ll regret on the trip. can u just…idk watch out for him pls ? ik v can take care of himself. but sometimes he gets into this headspace that’s self-destructive
Rem: tbh i dont like his ghost stuff as it is. i dont need him doing something dumb either
Patton: I understand Rem. That’s really sweet of you <3 <3
Patton: I’ll look out for him! I promise!!!! :-) :-)
Rem: ty. dont tell v abt this convo tho
Despite feeling uneasy about it, Patton understood Remy’s request to keep silent. Telling Virgil about their conversation would only push Virgil away and make him defensive. It’d be impossible to look out for him.
Virgil had already given Patton a way in. Patton had to talk to Logan for Virgil and get any supplies he might need. Patton loved visiting Logan in and of itself. Maybe Logan could help him out.
Logan’s business was located near small shops clustered along the beach. It was a hotspot for tourists, where knickknacks and souvenirs were sold and expensive attractions were advertised. Patton walked along here with Virgil sometimes, stopping at the arcade or mirror maze. Patton had met some of the most interesting people in the small touristy town.
Among the attractions was a dark blue shingled building with a pointy-roofed top. Painted letters on a wooden board spelt out “Afterlife Exposed.” Patton stepped through the door and a bell gently ringed, signaling his arrival.
At the sound of the bell, a tall, dark-haired man turned around. His navy suit blended in with the darkness of the shop. The man’s lean body was captivated beautifully in the suit. Patton quickly averted his eyes, blushing furiously.
“I have been expecting you-oh. Greetings, Patton. What a surprise.”
“Hi Logan!” Patton waved enthusiastically. “Who were you expecting?”
“No one. It’s a new rule Father has implemented. I must say it to every customer to ‘set the mood,’ as he calls it.” Logan dragged his hand over his face exasperatedly. “I find it quite ridiculous. But business shall be business.”
Logan’s father technically owned Afterlife Exposed. But he was always hidden in the back, gathering supplies or experimenting. Logan was currently studying entrepreneurship in college in order to take over the family business someday.
“How may I help you today, Patton?” Logan inquired, stepping around the counter to stand in front of him. He was even taller up close.
Patton filled Logan in about the New Prince Castle family murder and Virgil’s plan to investigate the castle for one of his ghost routines. Logan nodded politely the whole way through.
“I see. What an intriguing case. What exactly does he need from me?”
Patton shrugged cluelessly. “Anything you think might help, I guess.”
“What’s his budget?”
“A coffee and cake pop from Starbucks, if he uses his gift card.”
Logan rolled his eyes. “And he sent you to purchase something from here? Why, he couldn’t even afford a keychain.”
“Come on, Logan! He’s one of your most loyal customers and between us, he’s going through a rough patch. Can’t you help him out? Please?”
Logan massaged his temples and sighed. “Patton, it’s just not something the business can afford to do right now. My Father and I have been dealing with a sort of rough patch as well. You and Virgil have my sincerest apologies-truly, you do.”
Patton nodded dejectedly, “I understand.” Spotting Logan’s hesitant expression and tense form, he rested a hand on Logan’s shoulder and grinned. “Really, I do. I don’t blame you.”
Logan gave a small, tight-lipped smile in return. Gently shaking Patton’s hand off his shoulder, he clasped his hands together tightly. “Well, is there anything else I can do for you?”
“I’m not too sure.” Patton pursed his lips in thought. “Well, actually. I was wondering if you could tell me the dos and don’ts of ghost hunting. The yays and nays. The cats and dogs-actually no scratch that, both of those would be a yay.”
“With all due respect, Patton, I think Virgil has got that covered.” Logan reassured. “He must have asked me a dozen times prior to his first investigation.”
“Oh yeah, I know. It’s for me.” Patton corrected.
Logan raised an eyebrow in perplexion. Patton had never shown an interest in ghost hunting when Virgil wasn’t to be found.
Patton thought quickly. “I just want to understand more. For when I talk to Virgil. Sometimes I really don’t get half the explanations coming from the kiddo’s mouth.” It wasn’t a lie. “Just…how do you deal with ghosts?
“I see.” Logan clicked his tongue. “I’m sure Virgil could explain it to you more in depth. But, if you’re ever in doubt, chalk it up to one thing: respect. Is what you’re doing respecting the afterlife and their home? Are you portraying common courtesy? Treat them with the same respect as the living, if not more. There are exceptions, as with anything, but for the most part, that should keep you out of trouble with spirits.”
“Respect.” Patton repeated.
“You have strong morals, Patton. If you’re concerned about involvement with the afterlife due to your closeness with Virgil, I would not worry. Lack of respect is the last of your weaknesses.”
Logan pulled out his phone from the back of his pocket. “I apologize, I must return to my work. However, if you or Virgil have any more questions, feel free to give me a call.”
Patton gushed and thanked Logan, jotting down his number. Logan flushed a gentle red and held out his hand for a handshake.
“Pleasure doing business with you, Patton.”
Patton swatted Logan’s hand away and brought him in for a hug. “Thank you, Logan.”
Logan awkwardly pat Patton on the back before ungracefully untangling himself from the embrace. “I was only doing my job. Now, I understand it’s none of my business, but I recommend getting some rest. You look exhausted.”
“High school has permanently carved bags under my eyes.” Patton shook his head defeatedly.
Logan gave an amused smirk. “You sounded like Virgil.”
Patton beamed. “Like father, like son!”
Just as Patton was about to turn around to leave the store, something in the corner of the room glistened, catching his eye. “Hey Logan? Just one more thing?”
Logan hummed at him, encouraging Patton to continue.
He pointed to the object at the corner of the room. “How much can I get that for?”
“Walkie-talkies. I sent you to Logan Berry, one of the smartest, most knowledgeable people about the afterlife in this town, and you come back with a Ghost Buster walkie-talkie.” Virgil grunted, dangling the toy by its antennae.
“You can have the Casper the Ghost one instead.”
“What? No! Ghost Busters is better, anyway.” Virgil groaned. “That’s not the point. How about advice? Did Logan say anything?”
“Just to respect the ghosts. Have common courtesy. Which you better be doing anyway, even without Logan telling you to do so.”
Virgil threw his hands up in exasperation and fell down into his sofa as the cushions engulfed the skinny man. “Obviously I respect them! The last thing I need is coming home possessed and cursed! He knows I know that. That’s really all he said?”
“Besides giving us his number.” Patton confirmed. “Which I already gave you.”
Virgil grumbled. “Whatever. One day I’ll get enough money to- wait. The walkie-talkies. There’s no way you could have bought them with my money, I would not have had enough. Please don’t tell me…”
Virgil got a glance of Patton’s sheepish look and groaned. “Patton, we have a rule! No buying each other anything!” He buried his head in his hands. “I can’t pay you back. You know that.”
“Hey…” Patton took a seat next to Virgil and laid a comforting hand on his knee. “It’s okay. They weren’t expensive. You don’t have to pay me back.”
Virgil looked at Patton in between his fingers. His voice was muffled against his palms. “You know how I feel about that, Pat.”
“Virgil, come on.” Patton pleaded.
Virgil shook his head. “Thank you. But, you need to return them.”
Guilty silence settled among the two, but neither made a move to leave. Both were lost in their own worlds when an idea struck Patton.
He nudged Virgil. “I know a way for you to pay me back without money.” At Virgil’s unimpressed look, he protested, “Seriously! It would mean a lot more to me than whatever these walkie-talkies cost.”
“Yea?” Virgil lifted his head from his hands. “What is it?”
Patton stared at Virgil’s stormy eyes as his heart pounded. In all honesty, this was the last thing Patton wanted to do. He was terrified. But, he thought back to the conversation he had with Remy, and the last time Virgil did something senseless unsupervised due to paranoia. “I want to go ghost hunting with you. At the New Prince Castle.”
Virgil’s jaw dropped. His eyes darted around Patton’s face before he shook his head and gave a weak chuckle. “Sure, Pat. Whatever you say.”
“No, I’m serious!” Patton insisted. “I’ll respect the ghosts and do whatever you tell me to do!”
Virgil was dismissing Patton before he could finish his sentence. “No, no, no. You hate ghost stories, Pat! Especially ones that are spooky and gruesome. You’d hate ghost-hutning. It’s dark and there’s lots of weird noises and tons of spiders. No way. I’m not adding more guilt to my conscience.”
Virgil made a move to get up from the sofa, but Patton refused to let the conversation drop. He grabbed Virgil’s hand and pulled him back to the seat. Virgil landed with a clumsy thump.
“Kiddo, I know I hate all those things. I’m sure I’ll be scared. But, you’ll be there too! I love you more than I hate all those things combined.”
“Patton, we can do something else together. Go to the movies. Or bowling. Normal teen stuff.” Virgil reasoned.
Patton retorted, “But ghost hunting is important to you.”
“It’s not that important. It’s a simple hobby. I don’t care that much about it.” Virgil cut off.
“I know, I know!” Patton quickly backtracked. “What I meant was that ghost-hunting has been a cool way for us to bond. It intrigues you-a perfectly normal amount-and I like seeing you happy! Just like you go walking with me along the shops by the beach even though it’s super crowded and you hate it.”
“Patton, what’s your point?” Virgil grilled.
“My point is I want to try this thing that you enjoy with you. Just like you try things for me. It’s senior year, Virgil. No one hates thinking about it more than me, but we don’t know what things are going to be like after high school. I want to find a husband, start a family. Maybe study veterinary science. You could have a publisher for your writing, become a famous author, and move. I want to do this with you. I want to get over my fear.”
Patton stared at Virgil hopefully and held out his hand. “What do you say? One more big adventure for the dynamic duo?”
Virgil stared at Patton, looked down and roughly shook his head, froze, then stared at Patton once more. Virgil’s foot rapidly tapped against the floor, creating a dizzy, distracting melody. Finally, Virgil pulled his hair and glared at Patton. “You’ll be careful?”
Patton nodded eagerly.
“And you’ll stick with me no matter what? At all times? I want you in my sight.”
Virgil dramatically groaned, closing his eyes and throwing his head back. “I guess you can come.”
Patton shot up from his seat, whooping with joy and hopping around the sofa. “Thank you, Virgil! Thank you! We’re going to have such a great time!”
Virgil peeked one eye open and gave a soft grin. “Yeah, I guess we are. You’re sure you wanna do this?”
“Never been more sure of anything in my life besides my love for you and cats! I pinkie swear it.”
Patton and Virgil intertwined pinkies before Patton winked and let go, embracing Virgil.
“Let your moms know you’re going to be gone for the weekend.” Virgil smirked. “We have a haunted castle to explore.”
#sanders sides#thomas sanders#sanders sides fanfiction#roman sanders#logan sanders#patton sanders#virgil sanders#remy sanders#deceit sanders#LAMP#CALM#platonic lamp#hurt/comfort#family fluff#fluff#logicality#prinxiety
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hi babes! i’m syd (or squid, you with the face, you know, whatever, i’m not a picky cephalopod) and i’m hella excited to be here! i’m very new to the whole, structured group rp concept on tumblr thing, so this is all basically a series of new experiences that i’m pumped to have with you all! anywho, if you wanna plot, come slide into my dms, either just in general or to get my discord i’m a paranoid cephalopod so i don’t wanna like, just have that sitting out where just anyone can find it !! without further ado, i give you jack!
[ michael vlamis, cisgender male, he/him, 27 ] FREEDOM by DOROTHY? whenever i hear that song, it reminds me of JACKSON “JACK” GAVALAS. maybe because they’re FREE-SPIRITED but also RECKLESS. they’ve been living at mulberry apartments since OCTOBER of 2018 in APARTMENT 507 and have 1 ROOMMATE**. ( LANDSLIDE, COME OUT AND PLAY) [ syd, they/them, 18+, pst ]
BASICS:
Name: Jackson Bennett Gavalas Nickname(s): Jack, Gavalas Age: 27 Birthday: July 7, 1991
BACKGROUND:
he spent most of his early years an only child, growing up outside of baltimore
his mom was never really in the picture. he doesn't know too much about what went down between her and his dad, but she gave full custody of him to his dad and vanished when he was just a few years old
his dad remarried, and jack found himself with a brand new baby sister (@ftspcncer) he absolutely adores to this day
he wasn't a bad kid, though he could be a little hotheaded, and chasing the next adrenaline rush sometimes had him returning home sporting some new scrape or bruise
he was and is a total nerd, though. he was on the robotics team in high school, and if his family had had the money to send him straight to university, he'd have been a mechanical engineering major
as it stands, he did well enough in school that he got scholarships from the colleges he applied to—they just weren't enough to offset the cost, and he wasn't going to put their family into debt if he could help it
instead, at eighteen, fresh out of high school, he enlisted in the navy—at first a five-year commitment as an engineman, which he then re-upped for another three years—and remained until he felt it was time to do something else with his life, upon which point he moved to baltimore proper
if you asked him why he enlisted, he'd say it was a way to jump-start his life without having to worry so much about the cost of it all, which would be true, but he also did it seeking adventure
he went out of his way to keep in contact with his family, sending emails, letters, postcards, and the occasional trinket from his travels, as well as doing his best to fit in regular skype and phone calls. and if he had more than a few days leave, you bet your butt he was coming home to spend time with his family
he's had some hiccups in adjusting to civilian life, still less than a year out of the navy. he's up at odd hours, sometimes, and the loose structure of day-to-day life (even with him taking community college classes as a full-time student) without specific checklists of duties can get daunting. those especially are the days he'll disappear into the gym or spend all day just driving so he can get out of his own head for a bit
PERSONALITY:
he's a thrill-seeker (always has been) and a fan of just being outside. he was the kind of kid who climbed trees and just kind of laughed it off if he fell out, and shrugged off most injuries. he's also the kind of guy who got his motorcycle license very shortly after his regular driver's license, had worked his ass off saving up for his own bike, and very happily used it as his preferred mode of transportation
he likes having other people around, even if he's not talking to them. jack and quiet spaces don't mix well—he'd rather go to a crowded park or a bar to do work for class than sit in a library
don't get me wrong, though, he's the grumpiest mofo without his coffee, or if he doesn't get at least three or four hours of sleep (or a combination thereof). he's a morning person out of force of habit, not of his own volition, and it's glaringly apparent when his equilibrium is thrown off
he can also get irritable if he's having a particularly bad tinnitus day. he hates having to ask people to repeat themselves, but sometimes he has to, and it puts him in a bad mood
he tries very hard to be an optimist with a positive outlook on life, which is absolutely hilarious when coupled with his foul mouth. he does his best to keep it to a minimum (or, rather, he tries to keep it on the tamer end of things, at least) but sometimes an f-bomb slips out in the middle of a perfectly good sentence in what might be considered 'polite company'
he can be a goof. he loves life and wants to just have fun with it. he is absolutely your best bet if you're trying to find a friend to go on a 2 am trip through the city for ice cream, or if you want to drag someone along to hit up every thrift store in the city (but also like, never play pool against him. he will hustle you, and he might not give you your money back once you realize he's actually really good)
he also has a huge heart. he makes friends easily and tries to make time for anyone who needs him around
that being said though he's kind of a commitmophobe. he draws the line at anything beyond fwb, especially after opening his heart to a guy he thought he really had something with who never called him back (who is one of his connection songs ;3)
on a related note, he has a heavy preference for dating men, though he's equal opportunity when it comes to bedfellows
he's just a huge puppy you guys (a friendly german shepherd puppy who cannot be left unsupervised because he'll get himself into some kind of mischief)
ADDITIONAL (random) FACTS:
for a smart guy, he can be kinda dumb when it comes to technology, especially social media. he only has facebook down because he joined not too long after he enlisted, because it was the best way of keeping in touch with people coming and going with their deployments and stationings (someone pls teach him what twitter and instagram are)
he's still not quite used to cooking for himself. tv dinners and other microwavable goodies all the way, with the occasional boil-able frozen food thrown in (he'll get there eventually, he just doesn't often remember he has to make food until he's too hungry to go through the work of preparing a meal from scratch)
he has both the best and worst fashion sense. he's perfectly at home in steel-toed boots, snug jeans and a leather jacket, but he's also regularly wearing truly gaudy, loud print button-ups. it's kind of a signature look, at this point
he’s a baseball fan. he played club most of the way through school, and still kept up with the world series while he was deployed
he has days where he desperately misses being at sea. he has a hammock hung by the window in his room for the days he really needs to feel something similar to the sway of a ship on the waves, but other times he has to be down in the harbor, feeling the wind on his face and listening to the sounds of a busy port
he’ll answer to gavalas about as fast as if not faster than he will jack, and will answer to either a hell of a lot faster than he’ll answer to jackson
he picked up an infrequent smoking habit while in the navy. if you ask him, he'll say he's “pretty much” kicked it, especially now that he's out, as he was mostly a social smoker, but if you searched his room, you'd probably manage to find either a few loose cigarettes or part of a pack, which he's usually gotten off of someone else
#soundintro#this may have gotten away from me a lil bit#anyway come plot!! i promise i don't bite <3333
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a life of danger
haHA idk what this is guys but. i was too impatient to actually write the whole thing before posting so!!! here have a snippet of some jungkook-the-agent and jin-his-handler fic
rated t for ‘totally rad’ and the genre is honestly just ‘jin and jungkook bantering to express their love’ (w Feelings to come in later installments)
title is (of COURSE) from ‘secret agent man’
i’m not a secret agent so uhhh none of this is even remotely realistic i’m invoking artistic license here
One of the first things you learn at the academy is how to tune out distractions.
There’s always too much going on in the world, which is why the ability to take it all in, pick out all the relevant information, and tune out everything else is so important. Distraction at the wrong time — focusing on something stupid rather than what you should be focusing on — can, and has, led to death. All good operatives practice doing this until it’s ingrained.
Jungkook’s a good operative. A fantastic one. One of the best, even, and that isn’t arrogance, it’s just the truth.
There’s one thing, however, that all his training, all his instincts, all his will can never tune out:
“You know, you need to go out more often,” Jin says through the earpiece. “It’s unhealthy, the way you refuse to socialize with anyone.”
“You know what else is unhealthy?” Jungkook says, voice a hush as he continues trying to crack the safe. Safe-cracking isn’t his expertise — those are more long the lines of get in, kick ass, get out — so frustration’s welling within him as it takes longer than he wants, and Jin isn’t helping. “Your obsession with me. Why are you even keeping track of my socializing habits?”
“First of all,” Jin starts, and there’s so much indignation in his voice, Jungkook’s lips twitch as he thinks about the way Jin’s probably gesticulating, the expression he’s wearing as he talks to a set of computers in a dark room with no one around, “I’m not obsessed with you, and honestly, if you think this is obsession, says more about you than it does about me. Second of all, I know about your socialization habits because gossip is currency and secret agents are even better at it than the old woman that used to live across the street when I was growing up, so I don’t go looking for this information, it just appears in my lap.”
“Just appears in your lap.” Imagining Jin’s face as Jungkook scoffs — Jin hates being scoffed at; this is why Jungkook makes sure to do it as often as possible — makes the smirk grow on his face, and he adds for the finishing touch: “Is that the defense you use when accused of anything? ‘No, no, sir, I wasn’t bothering this woman, she just appeared in my lap.’”
Seconds go by as Jin makes incoherent, outraged sounds. “I know how to respect women! I’m not a disrespectful, rude brat like you! I have never had a complaint, thank you very much, and never will, because I’m capable of interacting with normal people like a normal person, not like an emotionally constipated — constipated asshole.”
“You? Normal?” This time, scoffing is even easier. “Right, of course.”
Mission accomplished — Jin is now ranting about Respecting your elders and Learning some manners and Not being a mouthy smartass — Jungkook has an easier time focusing, Jin’s voice washing over him, bringing familiar words with it, and it isn’t too long before he finally cracks the safe.
Showy celebrations are amateur, so all he allows himself is a small, “Nice,” nodding in satisfaction as he reaches in to grab the paper documents, the content of which he was told he ‘didn’t need to know.’ The urge to look is hard to resist, but he shuts the safe and slips the documents into his pocket, straightening out his suit jacket and running a hand through his hair, checking his reflection out in the window to make sure he looks good.
As always, he does.
Most of the building is glass — he hates it, hates feeling so exposed, hates the bullshit bougie modern art concept it’s designed on — which means the walls serve as one giant window; as soon as he leaves the room with the safe, he’s assaulted by sunlight and he wrinkles up his nose, says, “Too bright.”
“Yes, sunlight is bright. Maybe you’ll finally grow old enough to develop object permanence and retain this information.”
“Sunlight isn’t an object,” Jungkook says, “so what does object permanence have to do with anything?”
There’s silence for a beat. “You know what,” Jin says, and then stops.
“Yes, I know ‘what’ — it’s a word often used to ask about information.” The building’s a maze of hallways, as if M.C. Escher himself designed it, and then Jungkook realizes he just thought about M.C. Escher outside of an art history class and resolves to spend less time with Tae.
“Actually,” Jin says, “ ‘what’ has sixteen different definitions, and you only gave me one, which means you don’t know what.” The best part of it is, he sounds smug.
“Did… did you seriously look up ‘what’ in the dictionary,” Jungkook says, offering a polite nod to the woman who passes him by in the hallway, looking him up and down.
“Yes,” Jin says, “and I don’t see why you’re asking me as if I’ve done something ridiculous.”
“You are ridiculous. Everything you do is ridiculous, because you are ridiculous,” Jungkook says, taking the stairs down. The interview he’s here for is on the third floor; he only has five minutes to make it down from the fourteenth, so he sprints, footsteps echoing in the stairwell.
“No, I’m Jin.” A beat passes as Jungkook sighs, and Jin starts laughing.
A cackling Jin in his ear isn’t the most conducive to a professional interview, so he says, “Stop laughing or I’m gonna have to cut the line,” and steps out of the staircase, discreetly slipping the documents into the recycling bin where someone will come to collect them.
“Don’t you fucking dare cut the line. I will surgically sew an earpiece to your ear if you try to do that again,” Jin says as Jungkook smiles at the lady at the front desk, excuses about how he got lost and how confusing the building is pouring out of his mouth, and the lady — Jan, her nametag reads — waves them all away.
“Don’t worry! You’re just in time, please have a seat as I inform them you’ve arrived,” she says, chipper, and Jungkook nods at her.
Taking a seat in the corner chair, Jungkook covers his mouth, whispers, “Then stop talking, and I won’t cut the line. Also, we’re sure I have to actually go through with the interview?” It isn’t that he’s nervous or anything — he just knows he’s completely out of his depth here, knows he’s going to bomb it because he doesn’t really know enough to convincingly bullshit, and he hates feeling incompetent, even if it doesn’t really matter.
Silence.
“Jin.”
More silence.
“Jin, answer.”
“Oh, you want me to answer?” Jin says, voice dripping with mock surprise. “But you said stop talking.”
“Jin.” If he’s whining a little bit, well, it’s justified.
“Yes,” Jin says, “we’re sure, because if anyone happens to find out today was the day the documents were taken, an interviewee disappearing after ‘getting lost’ would be suspicious.”
“That’s crossed paranoid and landed straight into conspiracy theory territory.”
A pause, and they both sigh, “Namjoon.”
“If he wasn’t such a good person, I’d hate him,” Jin says, and Jungkook makes a small hum of agreement, eyes scanning the room. The lady reappears, then, followed by a man in an expensive-looking suit and an I’m more important than you vibe, and Jungkook smiles, stands, holds out his hand.
The customary greetings are exchanged, and before Jungkook’s led into the back, Jin says, “You’re probably going to make a fool of yourself, but remember — you don’t actually have to do good, you can just bullshit and fail.”
Since Jungkook’s still talking to the man, nodding along with what he says, he can only grit his teeth at Jin’s words. A couple moments later, Jin says in a high-pitched voice: “Wow, Jin, you’re so smart and encouraging! I wouldn’t be able to tie my shoelaces without your guidance.” A pause. “That was you, by the way.”
“Yes, Jungkook, I am smart and encouraging and you would fail at life if not for my generous guidance,” Jin continues, deepening his voice enough Jungkook has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing. “I’m also handsome and hilarious and cooler than you’ll ever be.”
“Oh, Jin, you’re so right! As always! I promise to listen to you more often and give you the respect you deserve.” Jin’s Jungkook impersonation has Jungkook biting down harder, hoping he can pass off the smile threatening to break out on his face as excitement for the job.
“Ah, and here we are,” the man says, flashing Jungkook an insincere smile as he opens the door to a conference room.
There are two men, one woman seated at the table, all looking at Jungkook as if he just burst in wearing a clown suit and honking a horn. Anxiety buzzes under his skin, no matter how hard he tries to ignore it — he fucking hates feeling stupid, especially in front of assholes.
“Alright, brat. Remember you can kill all of the people in the room within a matter of minutes if they start laughing at you, and maybe take this opportunity to fuck with them instead of actually trying.”
Jungkook wants to say thanks — a sarcastic thanks, even if he means it sincerely — but instead he takes a deep breath, breaks out his most charming smile, and introduces himself.
Jin knows how Jungkook feels, anyway; he doesn’t need to say it aloud. It’s why they work so well together.
i’ve never actually written jungkook and he's kind of the member i’ve thought about the least?? idk how i feel about his characterization but. he’s a fun character to explore let’s see where this leads
anyway thanks for reading!!! pls lmk what you thought
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ROP
As promised here are the rites of passage that Captain, Jinx, and Mikki wrote for the cast!
All of Jinx’s Messages: https://youtu.be/kbk2GI6nW-E
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Captain: hey khalid! its been a short 4 days with you but i know that ur such an amazing person and u have such a bubbly personality. i do wish we get to know each other more.. its a bit sucky that your schedule kinda prevented you from being a bit more active :((
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Mikki: KHALID I DON’T KNOW IF YOU KNOW THIS BUT I DIDN’T WANT YOU TO BE FIRST BOOT. i really didn’t. You were so busy at the beginning and we didn’t talk a lot but the little time we did have talking to each other made me see how calm and good it felt to talk to you. I had such a good feeling and really wanted you to stay around longer but unfortunately it wasn’t anything i could do on my own. I hope we get another opportunity to get to know each other properly.
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Captain: we didn't meet each other in this game but i hope u had a fun time even though its short! and hopefully, we'll see each other around the community mwah!
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Mikki: we never got to meet but you seem genuinely fun and i’m sad i never got to meet you!!!! I’m sorry we sent jinx to the outhouse during the tribal you were voted out on. Idk if them being there would have helped at all but ashjsajhasjh if it would have i’m sorry!!!!
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Captain: i've seen you around but we haven't rlly talked/met each other yet. u seem to be amazing and i hope we'll get to play together some day
. Mikki: i’m also sad we didn’t get to meet!!!!!! You really seemed super active and i’ve never seen you around before so i was hoping our paths would cross but unfortunately that never happened :((
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Captain: we haven't been able to meet so its such a missed opportunity to not get to play together. you seem to be very cool! hope u had fun in autumns world
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Mikki: it was so nice to talk to you and i feel so bad about how unlucky you got in the tribe swap but i had to do what i needed to to keep my tribe and grey safe like i wanted.
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Captain: OMG BENJ sobs... urgh i wish you made the merge so that we could meet each other again and our trio of you/me/mikki would have streamrolled the season! i enjoyed every conversation we had and u rlly are such a dedicated player. and u deserved the BEST!! i wish you the best and i hope to see you around in the community and maybe we'll get to play together and go the end together WOOO! urgh.. ur so sweet sobs...
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Mikki: *takes a deep breath* this is going to be the hardest one to write. And i don’t even know what to say because nothing i do say will properly express how fortunate i am that we got to actually properly meet and talk!!!!!! And become friends LIKE BENJ I LOVE YOU SO SO SO MUCH and i’m so sad at how robbed you were. You were genuinely my number one and i looked forward to talking to you constantly every day. Talking to you was so easy and our plans for the future of the game MADE ME SO EXCITED and i was so ready to play with you and make moves and have fun and go far together. Your elimination made me really sad and i was in a big funk for a long time after and even at my worst in like f6 when i was ready to give up, autumn would ask me “what would benj say” and that one question made me snap out of it and fight further. When i found an idol at f5 and got to play it all i could think about was when you told me you wanted to find an idol to bring it to me to show me and i’m just :SOB: we really got robbed in getting to play together in merge and i really hope we get another chance to. I wish i did more to protect you. I should have done more and it was my biggest regret since. Thank you for being an incredible ally to me and reminding me what i love the most about games: making genuine friendships that mean more to me than the game itself. Ilysm <3
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Captain: i know we didn't end very well on cow and thats kinda the main thing that made me not fully trust you in this game. its probably my bad cause i think you really wanted to work with me but i mean in our short time here, we did work together! good luck with everything in your life blake!
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Mikki: blake!!! It was so fun to play with you while we could. I’m sorry you felt so left out in the tribal we had together before you went out but i hope you understand it wasn’t anything personal and i really did just assume you and raffy were close. I’m sorry for not trusting you more.
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Captain: awww Lily! i rlly enjoyed our conversation! like you were the one that i felt that our conversation just flew naturally and i loved how u tried to talk to me and ur just the sweetest!! i'm happy we met here cause ur literally so cool and so nice. u have this calming energy that i don't know how to explain dsfsdfsdfdsf. but YEA!! i hope u feel the same way as me and hope to see you around in the community!!
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Mikki: ahhhhh right before you left you told me that we will see if i made the right choice with who i sided with and sahsajhjhjas i like to think i did??? and i hope you agree. You were so so so kind and i’m sad we didn’t get to know each other before merge, i had to make a gut instinct kind of choice and it sucked that i had to make it so soon. I wonder how differently things would have been if i voted with og llih instead and kept you safe. You fought til the very end and it inspired me so much
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Captain: RAFFY! we were such a perfect pair when u told me ur also tired of talking to ppl dfsdfsdfsdf thats a big mood! urgh.. i rlly wish u could've gone a bit further because ik u trusted me a lot and i also trusted you... in some way just because i had other alliances. i tried so hard to save you but yea it didn't succeed. i hope ur doing great and hopefully we'll meet again
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Mikki: screams RAFFY I DON’T KNOW IF YOU KNOW OR NOT BUT this whole season i’ve had one burning question on my mind Does Raffy Remember Me? BECAUSE we played together in a game once before but i didn’t REALISE it was you at first so we both said it was nice to meet each other but then i realised it was you !!!!! from bb glass but i never knew if you knew it was me or not and i didn’t bring it up because HJASHJASJH I WAS WORRIED IDK IT WAS JUST an ongoing thing and became kind of a meme and i’m so excited to know the answer. But anyways ashjashjs i’m sorry for trying to vote you out but i really meant it when i said i wanted to play with you after. I wish we could have!!! I wanted us to have a redemption arc and be allies for real so badly. But my alliance with jinx and chris changed their votes to you and were so paranoid but i think they just didn’t want to vote out grey HJASJHASJH and i ended up caving out of fear. I had so much fun playing with you tho!!! And the superidol was one of the most exciting moments of this game even tho it did mean i lost one of my closest allies.
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Captain: I wish we talked more tbh because u were the first person to dm me in the swap and i was like lily o is so cool and i liked lily o a lot! but then we just didn't talk after that. I know its partially my faults but ur fun to talk to when we got to talk to each other! u may not know this but u were kinda the part that made me put more effort into this game when i lied to you about wanting to target jinx/mikki and u told mikki about that and she told me back hehe! hope we see each other around lily!
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Mikki: LILY YOU WERE ONE OF THE FUNNEST PEOPLE TO TALK TO!!!!! I had such a blast in our dms. I feel like we could talk about anything and it was fun. Hell you even explained the history of pacman to me and i was INVESTED in every part of it!!! Voting you out was partly fuelled by how good you are at comps and partly because i got bitter about the timezone advantage comment ashsahjsahj but nevertheless i found you incredible to talk to and play with and i’m so happy we could meet and have fun with each other while we did!!!
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Captain: JOEYYYYYY! i still feel bad about that pyramid challenge because u shouldnt have gotten me as ur pair lmaoo. i literally didn't know anything americans!! anyways!! our time together is for sure interesting. cause like ik ur with me but then u told jinx and monty that they need to be careful about mikki/captain and thats the reason why i didnt fully trust you in game! like ur a good ally but sometimes, ur doing too much. also, i appreciated u trying to talk to me a lot. I wish i did the same with you but life was so crazy that i could only reply with like short answers that didnt give anything much. At least we made it to jury together this time!
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Mikki: joey joey joey joey JOEY sjhhjsahjasahj oh my god it was a time and a half with you i swear. I would talk to you and then go into my conf and rant about how JOEY KEEPS SAYING I’M A THREAT GRRR IM SO ANNOYED and then i would talk to you more and go back in there after 2 minutes and be like “nevermind i love joey again” ahjashjsahj you are such a great friend joey and you give me so much joy to talk to. One of the things i’m most proud of is winning that endurance comp and i would have never done that if it wasn’t for you shjashj YOU PUSHED ME TO PLAY BETTER AND GO HARDER and i’ll never forget that. Thank you for helping me see what i’m capable of and for being a genuinely kind and fun person to be around.
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Captain: oh monty DFSDFDSFDS we didn't really talk much privately but most of the times i talked to you, i was always honest with you and i think u were the same way with me too so it kinda raised my eyebrows a bit when u told me that we're gonna be worried about captain/mikki later in the game fdsfsdfsdfsd i didn't talk much game with you but ik u played a good game even though i think u might not know whats going on most of the times lmaoo!! anyways, its been a fun time with you and ofc, u can't get rid of me cause im gonna be haunting u as an intern in CoW forever!!!
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Mikki: PLS ASHJASHJA we didn’t talk much at all in this game apart from when tribals were happening and that was extremely iconic of us ashjashjasjh i appreciate and love you so much monty!!!! You’re one of the best people i know and i’m glad we got to play together for a hot second even if it wasn’t for long and it was just these super rushed convos before tribal while i was awake at a ridiculous hour ashashjas
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Captain: okay so ur vote is literally the HARDEST vote ever in my org history but it has to be done because you and jude were such a tight duo and yes i knew about u having 2 idols and giving jude one since the beginning of the merge. i feel like that was the right time to, as autumn said, blindside. but you know i LOVE you so much. my grandpa! You are literally one of the nicest people in this community and your words have helped me a lot in this season. it hurt me so much to vote for you but thats how the game goes and i hope u understand because i value our relationship so much. we've played together for 4 times now and i love you more and more each time we play together. i just love ur puns and like ur old ways of saying things fsfsdfsdf that #chrisstyle and i just love everything that is YOU. i know we're gonna be fine after this and i hope ur proud of me and forgive me for voting you out. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH. Chris i LOVE YOUUUUU. sobs. im so happy we got to play together again ahhhhh
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Mikki: chris you are literally the nicest human i’ve ever known. You exude such a genuine kindness i can’t even comprehend it. Your messages always put a smile on my face and voting you out was the hardest vote i ever did and i literally wrote in my conf that voting you out would be like blindsiding your grandpa after he helps you move in and has a cup of tea with you :sob: like you’re just one of the best guys i’ve ever met and have this pure wholesome kind energy i’ve never encountered with anyone else. Playing with you was amazing and i loved our alliance with captain and jinx. But i knew your game was incredible and to see myself and captain get any further we had to do the unthinkable. You had the magician in my tarot readings for a reason and it’s because you’re so powerful!!!!! I can’t wait to ask you so many questions when this is over.
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Captain: bae- i still don't know why you had a crush on me but we had such a cute showmance arc in this series. i mean yes i targeted you for a few times just because we didn't talk before fsdfsdsdf like we communicated in the house chat but no one actually dm'ed each other first so im like i don't know where ur head is at and u seem to be dangerous to my game!! i mean u ended up not voting for me so thank you for that even though i can't do the same. i have to say that i enjoyed our convo a lot.. u always lit up my smile whenever u dm'ed me with tiktoks or like just ur random chit chat LMAO! the only downside was that we didn't rlly talk game much except for that one vote i think the lily o vote where we talked about getting joey out and ended up voting for lily o. but yes, i will miss our convo here a lot grey :(( u deserved BETTER!
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Mikki: GREY OMG you’re one of the funniest people i’ve known. Our dms were so chaotic and you always broke the ice in the tribe chat by saying the randomest and funniest things. Thank you for making me laugh and for sharing your stories with me and chris and jinx on call. I really enjoyed getting to know you and i care so much for you. Also you appreciate captain and for that you have taste HJASHJSA
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Captain: JUDE!! you were such a powerhouse in this game like literally had u made the final 2, u would've won for sure and thats the reason why i fought so hard in the pressure cooker comp cause i couldn't risk you getting into the final 3 and potentially won the last IC. So i'm so sorry i had to vote you out. i had such a fun time getting to know you like just like i told you, i liked you since the premiere night when i watched ur intro vid and was like 'JUDE IS SO COOL' in my DR and i wanted to play with you.. then we got to play together and got to know each other. We didn't get to talk game much but like ik i could trust you in some ways! and again ur the coolest jude.. that pressure cooker will go down as one of the most iconic pressure cooker challenges in the tumblr survivor history for sure. hope to see u around the community
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Mikki: JUDE i’m so sorry everything ended the way it did. I always meant what i said to you, that i would love to see you win. And you absolutely deserved to. Your game was amazing and i spent every second admiring you and everything you did. From the moment we played tic tac toe together i knew i was a jude stan and i’m so happy we got to have so much fun together and PLAYED PYRAMID TOO!!!! You’re absolutely remarkable and an easy person to love and want to protect, i can only dream of having your social game. You also never voted for me even when i thought you would BECAUSE I REALLY THOUGHT IT MADE THE MOST SENSE but you never did and i’m really emotional about that. I think so highly of you and i hope we can be friends after all of this <3
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Mikki: WE FINALLY GOT TO WASH AWAY OUR SAILOR MOON SINS CAN YOU BELIEVE ASHJHJASHJASAHJS we finally did it!!!!! YOU MEAN THE WORLD TO ME!!!!! I am so proud of the game you played and i know it wasn’t easy for you at all. You showed just how much you wanted this and you never took the easy route. I’m proud to have played alongside you and for all our nights watching survivor and 7th heaven YOU ARE ALSO ONE OF MY BEST FRIENDS and i love you so much
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Mikki: you know how much you mean to me. I love you so much and i’m so happy we once again got to play together. I am SO proud of you and the game you played. You’re an under the radar genius who knows how to get your information and how to use it. YOU ARE CAPABLE OF LITERALLY ANYTHING YOU SET YOUR MIND TO and i love seeing you constantly prove yourself wrong and show just how incredible you are. You always put me first and take care of me :pls: i am so lucky to have you as one of my best friends and i can’t tell you enough how much i love you. Thank you for being in my life <3
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Lee Daehwi Super Powers Au
Waddup So this was written yesterday and idk whether to do a powers au so I guess this is just a try??
In other news I got Seventeens new album for my bday today and got The8 i am blessed. Anywhere, here we go. also pls tell me if I need to tag any triggers, I’m not great at this stuff whoops.
• Lemme get one thing straight, you didn’t want to use your ability for bad, • It just kinda happened that you became a theif, • You were trapped, • You were a teen when you got dragged into a whole mess of a gang, when you went to take out a loan to pay for treatment for your brother’s illness, • Because your brother was the most important thing to you but your family couldn’t afford his treatment, • But you didn’t realise the loan company was actually kinda not a company and you had just officially ruined your life,
• With gastronomic Interest, you had to pay them back the money with no way of being able to do it, • Read the small print y'all, • So they offered you another option: you hated it but there was no other way to help your brother, and they threatened to cut your brother’s treatment if you stepped out of line, • And in a world made with certain people who had abilities, they made sure to utilize yours, • Aka the ability to change your appearance and voice to fit it, • They had you as a thief, and with your skill and ability you quickly became notorious around the city, • Which made you extremely paranoid, causing you to constantly switch appearances, • I don’t mean switching looks every minute or something bizarre, • I mean you never showed your true appearance anymore, you were always someone else and started to panic at the thought of people seeing the real you, • So you stayed in your place by day planning heists the gang had sent you to do, and went on the missions by night, • And you hated everything about the way you lived, but you knew your brother was getting better, so you kept at it, • The gang sent you a particularly dangerous heist one night, and you did not think it was a wise idea at all, • Like there were shit tonnes of guards and cameras and the switch overs were smooth and the codes hard to crack, • As a thief, you were known to be able to go in and out before anyone would even realise anything was gone, shifting into guards or ceo’s or customers, • And you trained your ability to perfection, having no flaws in your transformation and being able to quickly switch features, • A master™ • But you plan this near impossible heist anyway because you have to, you have everything to lose, • And while bits of the heist are a bit by chance or freestyle, • You hate yourself for being quite confidant, as always, • But heists had started going wrong lately, • A guard unconvinced and almost omniscient, • Or the whole place closed for a day as if they already knew, • Little things going wrong preventing the heists and causing them to go wrong, • You didn’t know how because they were all planned to perfection, but something was happening, • You heard whispers of a mole but no one ever told you anything so you had no idea really, • So you’re dropped off by the usual gruff looking men who are going to wait down the street, safe for them, • You where dressed as a medium height middle aged woman with brown hair, trying to blend in with the people around you,
• Like a chameleon damn, • You float into the bank and act naturally, milling around the atm’s and looking at posters, • A boy around your actual age seems to keep glancing at you, which sets your nerves off, • Not only is he cute, it’d be insanely weird for someone his age to be staring at a middle aged lady, • You try to sway away from his prying eyes and keep your heart at normal pace and prevent your hands shaking, • You always got nerves before a heist and this dude really wasn’t helping, • At all, • Smh doesn’t he know it’s rude to stare? • You’re nearly set on going over there and telling him yourself, but with your ‘can I see the manager’ hair style you play your role and send him a disapproving mum glare and shake you head, moving on, • Perfect, v realistic, • But the dude doesn’t stop sending u shady side eyes, so you decide to get the hell on with it, • So your eyes scan the floor before slipping into a side door, • Smooth as always, might I add, • You change your appearance quickly into a guard and take out a hand mirror quickly to check that you’re perfect, • Indeed you are perfect,
•You were about to take off down the hall when the door slides open again, • You’re about to get into character when the boy from earlier locks eyes with you and lunges, • You dodge as quick as a whippet and a fight™ ensues, • You can tell idk how to write a fight omg, • DW I’ll get better, • You’re both incredibly good to the point you defo know this ain’t just a usual kid who’s taken some martial arts classes, • Because as soon as you dodge one punch and throw your own, he’s dodged that and is launching another assault with a knee or elbow,
• He keeps saying something along the line of 'Stop I’m trying to help’ but you ain’t buying no shady nonsense, • And you’re both getting pretty beaten, bruises and small cuts appearing, a bloody nose or a broken finger, • But shit really hits the fan when a guard comes round the corner and then you’re both in for it, • You’re internally having a meltdown you’ve never had to deal with this before, • And then your tryna fight the boy and the guards and - shit, • A bullet grazes your leg but it instantly burns and shocks you to hell, • Your appearance flickers before returning to the middle aged lady aka the wrong disguise, who0ps, • Your leg burns and the shock throws you off balance long enough for the boy to wrap an arm around your shoulder and have you against a wall in a second, • You’re about to swing your leg back to hit him when chloroform and damn you’re out cold, • Actually outraged in your knocked out state, • Who DaRe? • Like you don’t blame them, you’re a damn thief, tbh you’d probs knock yourself out if you were in their situation, • but hOw DaRe tHey? • And you’re defo worried about who just chloroformed you but whatever, • Idek if you can think all this while passed out but you find a way, • You wake up with someone’s hand on your forehead and you stay still, trying to gather your bearings and figure stuff out before you let them know you’re awake, • I mean the hand thing is so weird but you deal with it you til you gather that your head’s also in someone’s lap and your skin is tingling and you decide this is very weird, • I mean not a hard conclusion to come to but a conclusion all the same, • You slowly open one eye and wow, • Bright lights, • But you soldier through it and stare straight ahead at the face of the boy ahead of you, • You’re about to jump out of your skin but the boys eyes are closed and he looks so peaceful with flawless skin and a slight frown, his brow creased in concentration, • And then you realise your leg doesn’t burn and your hand and knuckles don’t scream like they did before you dropped, • And you realise he’s someone like you, he’s a healer, • And it makes your heart fly with joy, you’ve found someone else with an ability and all of a sudden you feel safer, • Especially because he’s a healer, • But then your eyes trail to your arm and your body and all the safety is thrown away, • You have no disguise, no fake face or fake voice; it’s purely you and it makes you dizzy and sick, • He must sense your panic because his eyes crack open and he smiles widely at you, removing his hand from your forehead, • Wow his smile settles your heart and warms your cheeks, • A million questions run through your foggy brain, where are we and what happened? Who is he and why is he so cute? Where’s the boy from before and what’s going to happen when your former gang know you’re not with them? • “Y/N, right? I’m Daehwi, and give me a sec and I’ll tell you all the gossip,” • While his soft voice is calming when you sit up, a wave of dizziness hits you like a wrecking ball ridden by Miley cirus • (Wow my pop culture references about 5 years too late), •But despite your swimming head you quickly change your skin, opting for the first thing you can think of, which happens to be Daehwi, • You change your hair quickly and alter your face and body to match his within seconds, • You’re kinda embarrassed that you just changed into him but you’re panicking, • While the boy next to you may have seen your face, you’d prefer if no one else would, • “That’s increadible,” • The look on Daehwi’s face, as well has his bubbly laugh, makes you flush but you’re heart is still beating a mile a minute and your chest feels a little too tight, • “While that’s really cool, and I’m really flattered, I thought your natural face was much prettier,” • Your face (or is it Daehwi’s?) blushes violently at the comment but the fact you don’t look like yourself calms you a little, • “A healer, then?” • You ask simply to change the subject, although it’s pretty obvious at this point, • “Yep, not one of the coolest abilities but pretty handy. You’re obviously a shape shifter, damn the whole city knows you’re a shape shifter, but seeing it myself, damn, it’s way cooler than I thought” • He talks in such a laid back manner, leaning back onto his hands, his whole presence relaxing, • He really suits his ability, • “I think healing’s the best ability, you get to help,” • Your voice is quiet but your words are the truth, and you can see Daehwi’s about to reply when the door swings open and the boy from earlier wonders in, doing a double take at the two Daehwi’s sat on the bed and sighing before dropping down into a nearby chair, • He’s hardly met you and he’s already done with your shit lmao, • But you’re eyeing him suspiciously because this guy FRICKEN chloroformed you and you still have no answers as to what the hell is going when he launched into a Hella Long explanation, • To put it simply,
• Daehwi and the boy, Guanlin, are part of an organisation that rescue abilities from sticky situations and tries to stop the people with abilities for using them nastily, • (Avengers who?) • There was indeed a mole in your gang as they planned to rescue you whilst intercepting a heist of yours, • They didn’t expect you to fight so defiantly back but I mean, • So then you explain that you’re really not nasty, I mean you used to put milk in before your cereal but yOu’vE cHanGeD, • You explain your situation and they agreed that they’ll see what they can do for your brother and you feel like you might cry because this is too good to be true, • Half convinced this is some awful experiment or teasing you, • So you spend a few days in the room you wake up in, just in case, in which you discover is actually Daehwi’s room, • Which is kinda awkward, • But you honestly can’t ask for a better first friend in the base they have there, • Daehwi is oh so patient, painfully so, encouraging you to take your time and helps introduce you to the many people in the base, most of which have powers themselves which blows your mind a little
• You’ve never seen so many abilities, • And it takes you a while to trust Guanlin, but as soon as you do you realise he’s just a goof and you apologise endlessly for hurting him, • And you start helping out at the base, doing small missions to help others by using your ability, • And it feels good, • Especially when you can come back to Daehwi at the end of the day and laugh and relax into the night, • And you visit your brother for a very emotional reunion and he’s getting better and life just seems to be good,
• And in the middle of it all is Daehwi, who you would trust with your life, • I mean he is a healer many people trust him with their lives,
• So you’re sat in his room (or your now shared one - you refuse to sleep anywhere else, feeling unsafe) chatting into the night, • When you both reach a lull in conversation, • “Y/N, why do you never walk, or sleep, or eat, or live in your normal skin?” • The question is so out of the blue that your eyes snap to his, • Which rest on you, • They always rest on you, • And you try to figure out a way to say it without feeling stupid, • Because in your mind it is a whole concept and fear, but there aren’t enough words to describe how you feel, and to condense your thoughts into words belittles them endlessly, • “It’s scary, showing your true self. I used to fear people would recognise me and arrest me, for being a thief, but nowadays it’s almost as if I don’t trust people enough. Enough to see my face,” • You pick your words carefully but still feel as if it’s a weak excuse, • “You don’t trust me, y/n?” • His words shock you, make you question yourself, and you look into those soft, open eyes and brace yourself, •You know he’s right as you relax, completely relax for the first time in years, letting all of your facade melt away to show your true skin, your true eyes, your true being, • And there’s something in Daehwi’s eyes that you love as he looks at your pure self,
• You feel insanely exposed but Daehwi himself settles you, • And you know you no longer need to hide yourself from Daehwi anymore when he leans over, wrapping an arm around your real hips, • Cups the back of your head, • And gently smiles and he places his lips on your real ones,
#lee daehwi#daehwi#i always get confused with his name lmao#wanna one#ww1#pd 101#produce 101#imagines#scenarios#headcanons#fanfic#fanfiction#fluff#superpower au#power au#abilities#wanna one scenario#wanna one imagines#og admin
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