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miniwheat77 · 9 months

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Taboo. (Stepbro!Soap x Reader.)

!This is 100% pure disgusting taboo smut, do not read if you cannot handle it. You've been warned! NSFW, smut, unprotected sex!

(A video surfaced on my tik tok of Neil in that god forsaken wife beater where he says "Big sister to the rescue." and this was completely the reason behind this fic. Good luck.)

A sigh leaves Johnny's lips as they get ready to board an airplane to go home. Which catches the attention of Ghost. "What's going on Johnny?" Ghost asks. Johnny laughs. "Ah. I just would rather stay on base to be honest." He laughs. "Why?" He asks. "Well. My Step sister stays in my parents guest house everytime I come home and she kind've just... gets on my nerves." He laughs. "How so?" Ghost asks. Passing Johnny a water bottle. "She teases me about some of the dumb stuff I did when we were younger but it's relentless when she's around. Any girlfriend I've brought home she's run off by telling them what I've done." He rolls his eyes. Ghost laughs. "Sounds like her and I would get along ah?" He smiles.

Johnny laughs. "When is the last time you saw her?" Ghost asks. “It’s been a few years.”

Ghost nods. “Well. Johnny. She is your sister. Maybe just talk to her about the teasing.” He shrugs. Johnny nods. “Yeah you’re probably right.” He looks down. “Is that all she does?” He asks. “Yeah that’s pretty much it.”

“You’ll be fine Johnny. Just relax.” Ghost laughs. He nods. Ghosts flight makes last call, and they say their goodbyes. Johnny still has some time to kill before his flight is due.

He was not excited to be home.

———

Johnny feels dread as he catches a taxi to his parents house. They insisted he come visit during his break off. “It is summertime after all, Johnny.” Was their excuse. He agreed, but upon hearing his step sister would be there, he wished he hadn’t.

He knows she shouldn’t get to him as easy as she does, but there’s just something about her that he wants to avoid.

Despite growing up together, and getting along for the most part, he still wished he wasn’t here.

He carries his duffel bag inside and sets it down. Closing the door behind himself. He can hear his mum humming in the kitchen. “Hello?” He calls out. “Oh!” He hears her. She appears in the doorway to the living room. “Hi honey!” She smiles. She pulls him into a hug. “I’ve missed you so much. How was your deployment?” She asks. “Not bad. Fighting bad guys as always.” He laughs.

“Ah. Johnny. How are you kid?”

It’s his step dad, your dad. “I’m good old man. How are you?” He sees his graying hair. It makes him sad a bit, just how much he’s missed out on. “Good. Nice seeing you.” He pulls Johnny in for a hug. “I’m gonna go put this up in the room.” He nods. “Oh, Johnny wait.” His mum stops him. “Sorry. I turned the guest room into an office. You’ll be staying out in the guest house with Y/N.”

Johnny can feel the color leaving his face. He’s so screwed.

“Oh okay. So.. I’ll go take it out there.” He nods. He breathes. "Okay honey. I'm making lunch so tell Y/N to come in once you're done." She smiles. He nods his head. "I will mum." He laughs, making his way out the door. He runs his hand over his mohawk nervously. He's not looking forward to seeing you. He feels dread settle into his chest once again as he knocks at the door before entering. "Come in!" He hears you call. He grasps the knob, taking one last breath before he opens up the door. He sees you sitting on the couch in the small living area. You're watching something. "Johnny, hey!" You smile. He smiles. "Hey." He nods. "Heard I'm staying out here with you." He laughs. Stepping into the house awkwardly. You laugh. "Yeah, your mum turned the spare room into an office for her work since the place she was working in shut down." You explain, standing up. You hug him, and he can smell your perfume. The hair in his body standing up. He needed to get away from you. He nods his head. "I'll just go.. Unpack then. Room on the left?" He asks. "Yep."

———

Johnny can't get the tequila down fast enough. He hates this. He's only been here three days and already wants to go back. You've been glued to his side since he's been home. "Hey uh.. Is everything okay?" You ask.

You've just got home from his aunts house, and you'd done it once again. Pointed out something stupid or embarrassing he did as a teenager. He was trying to talk to his cousins new wife and you'd started in with it. He takes a deep breath.

"I just..." He sighs. Tilting back the cup of tequila he'd just poured. He's sure they didn't notice him take it from the main house. "Why do you always make it a point to embarrass me in front of people?" He asks. You look at him in confusion. "What?" You freeze. "Earlier, you brought up some stuff I did as a teenager and you do it all the time. Anytime I'm around." He rests his hands on the granite countertop in the kitchen. "Johnny I-"

"No, you do it all the time. I mean really. Any girl I've tried dating, anytime I'm around you, you make it a point to do it. I mean seriously. I didn't want to come home because of this and I knew I should've stayed on base." He shakes his head. "Johnny, I'm sorry okay?" He can see the hurt in your face from the words he's just said. "They're just stupid stories that I thought were harmless, I didn't know it was bothering you that bad." You sigh.

"Yeah well it is. I didn't want to leave base because of it and I've been here three days and you've already done it." He grumbles.

“Well that just makes me feel like a horrible big sister.” You sigh.

“You’re not my real sister.” He shakes his head.

He can see the hurt in your face. “Why do you always say that Johnny? We practically grew up together! What difference does it make if I’m your step-sister or not!”

“Because…” he grits his teeth. He rubs his hands over his face, stepping around the countertop. “It’s just different okay? You’re not my sister.” He shakes his head. Looking at the ground. "And I'm not a kid anymore alright? I wish you'd stop treating me like one." He sighs. You shake your head. He can see how bad he’s hurting you. He has to go all in.

All the poker chips in the pot, no going back. "Why do you always say that hm? That I'm not your sister? What's the difference?" He can see the tears gathering in your eyes.

“The difference is.. is that…” he shakes his head. Teeth gritted once more.

“Fuck it.” He mutters. He grabs a hold of your shirt, pulling you into him. He kisses you hard, feeling you tense up against him. He backs up into the countertop. Your eyes are wide for a second, closing after a moment. He pulls away when he doesn’t feel you kiss back.

“Shit- shit. I’m sorry.” He steps back. Seeing you standing there. You’re staring at him but he can’t tell exactly what’s going through your head.

He wouldn’t call you his sister because of the way he felt about you.

You shake your head, shaking yourself out of your thoughts. Kissing him again.

He freezes up, just like you had. Before wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you up. He sets you down onto the countertop. Your dress gives him easier access to your body, feeling his rough and calloused hands gliding up your hips and onto your waist. Hooking his fingers over your panties to pull them down. He says nothing more, quickly freeing himself from his jeans, lining up with you. Just like that, you're exposed. Nothing between the both of you anymore.

When he thrusts up into you, a gasp leaves both of your lips. Freezing up momentarily at the intensity. Your hands clutch the edge of the countertop. His eyes burn into yours, only pulling away to look between the both of you. The clarity seems to hit the both of you all at once.

A knock at the door has you both jumping. “Shit-“ you mumble. He presses a finger to your lips. “Y/N? Johnny? Dinner is ready!” He can hear his mum yell. “Fuck- oh fuck.” He mutters as quiet as possible. “Uh. Yeah! Okay! We’re just going to finish this movie really quickly!” He calls out. “Okay sweetie. No rush.”

He can hear her footsteps going back to the main house. He turns back to you. Swallowing hard. “Should we stop?” He asks.

Your heart pounds in your chest. Johnny has barely touched you and you already have that knot forming in your stomach. He’s undeniably good at this, he feels even better. “No.” You look up at him. He swallows hard, grasping a hold of your wrists and holds them against the countertop. Pinning them there. He raises himself up, sliding out of you. Feeling you choke out a gasp as he thrusts back into you. The muscles in his upper arms and shoulders flexing. The muscles in his neck doing the same as he grits his teeth. He pushes you back by your chest, until your back is flat on the counter.

“Oh fuck Johnny.” You whimper. His pace is bruising. Slow but hard thrusts. “Fuck- I’ve wanted this for so long.” He clenches his eyes closed. “So fucking long you have no idea.” He cries, body shivering. He’s finally getting what he’s dreamt of for nearly 20 years. “I knew coming here was a bad idea, I knew I wouldn’t be able to control myself around you.” He hisses.

Johnny feels like a freak. Like some kind of pervert for pining after his step-sister after all of these years.

It’s almost like you read his mind. Maybe you can see the doubt in his eyes.

“I-“ you start. You flinch as the tip of his cock presses against your cervix. “It’s why I ran off all your girlfriends.” You gasp as he clutches your thighs harder. “Wasn’t just you.” You pant. Eyes fluttering closed. “Fuck.” He growls. He lowers his head, resting it over your clothed chest. You can feel that his hair is damp with his sweat. The thought that you want him just as bad as he’s wanted you lights a fire inside of Johnny. He bites down onto your collarbone, feeling you whimper. He’s going to make you his. He’s going to show you that nobody will be able to touch you like he can.

Johnny will learn every inch of your body and he’ll know exactly what to do to get you addicted to his touch. Addicted to him.

He adjusts himself, fixing the angle at which he thrusts into you. Gliding through your folds. He presses right against that spongy spot inside of you, hearing you gasp. He lowers his hand, thumbing your clit. He can feel you jump at the pressure he puts on it. “I know it’s a lot baby. Just relax.” He breathes. You nod your head, watching his hands as he touches you. Rubbing gentle circles into your clit. “Poor thing.. so swollen.” He pouts, a smile playing at his lips. A whine leaves your lips. You’re close already. Dangerously close. He can feel you clamping down around him. This is where he makes you his.

He pushes your dress up onto your hips, spreading your legs further. Pushing them up just slightly.

He thrusts into that spot, mercilessly. Your legs tremble and tears gather in your eyes. He’s so good at this, so so good.

Tears spill over your eyelids and before you can stop yourself, a moan leaves your lips. He clamps a hand over your mouth, seeing your eyes roll back. His eyes widen as your pussy clamps down around him. He leans down, pulling his hand away to kiss you, fucking you through your high. Feeling you squirming beneath him as he overstimulates you. “M’close, so close.” He pants. “Can you take it?” He asks. You nod your head. His breathing picks up. You can hear his heart pounding from a few inches away. “It’s okay Johnny. Relax.” You breathe, trying to soothe him. His skin is beat red.

“Look at me.” You breathe. His eyes flicker to yours. “Give yourself to me Johnny.” You sigh. His body shakes, he’s right there. You wrap your legs around him, hands clutching at his shirt for dear life.

He grits his teeth, moaning out as he reaches his high, not even thinking to pull out. A gasp leaves your lips, eyes widening as he empties himself inside of you.

Your thighs are sore and shiver slightly. “Fuck…” he gasps. leaning onto the counter to hold himself up. He breathes heavily. He rests his forehead against yours. He can still hear you panting, over his own. He pulls away from you, sliding himself out of you with a gasp, hearing you whine. He stands up completely, tucking himself back into his jeans. “I.. I gotta go change.” He breathes. You nod your head, pulling your dress down slightly, holding your knees up to yourself. Once he’s gone, you make your way into your room, walking awkwardly as you feel his filth seeping from your cavern, coating your thighs. You lock your bathroom door behind you, turning to look at yourself in the mirror.

You’d just had sex with Johnny. Your step-brother.

You shake yourself out of your thoughts. Cleaning yourself up and changing out of your dress before you emerge. You can still hear him moving around in his room. Maybe, it’s a one time thing. Maybe it won’t happen again.

You want to beat yourself up because you know if he tries again. You won’t stop him. You step out into the kitchen, freezing up when you see the countertop where he'd been inside you just moments ago.

A gasp leaves your lips as he turns you by your shoulder, pushing you up against the wall. You didn’t hear him come out. He takes a deep breath, looking at you. “I’m sorry.” He breathes. “I shouldn’t have done that.” He sighs.

“I’m not sorry. Because I liked it.” You breathe, looking up at him through your eyelashes. You can see his eyes darken. He grips your jaw, kissing you again. He kisses you hard, lowering his hand to rest around your throat. Holding you still. You whine into his kiss but he knows he needs to stop before it goes any further. He pulls away, keeping his lips just centimeters from yours. “We have to go inside.” He sighs. Finally pulling himself away from you.

“After you.” He moves to the side. Hearing you laugh.

The dinner table is incredibly awkward. You and Johnny keep exchanging awkward glances, knowing that what you had done just minutes before was sinful. It was dirty and bad and you couldn't imagine what would happen if your parents found out. “So. What movie were you guys watching?” His mum asks.

“Uh..” you breathe. “It was a show I was watching, he was just finishing up the episode with me. Just some documentary.” You speak up fast. Knowing Johnny isn’t too fast on his feet when it comes to lying. “Well I’m glad to see you two getting along.” She smiles. “Yeah. It’s been fun.” You say. “Yeah, I’m glad I came to visit.” Johnny nods. Neither of you eat very much. “I couldn’t help but notice the door was locked earlier.” His mum laughs. “Almost had to dig the key out but I forget you’re both adults and I can’t just barge in.” She laughs. “Oh yeah, I was taking my makeup off in my room and Johnny was taking a shower. Didn’t want to leave it unlocked for some creep to walk in and try to join him or something.” You send him a playful smile, seeing him roll his eyes.

His mum laughs, your dad rolling his eyes at your crude joke.

I almost feels like the dinner goes by even faster. Neither of you wanting to face what had just happened between the both of you.

"Alright, you guys get a good nights sleep, we're going to the lake tomorrow remember?" Your dad smiles. "Yeah, course dad. See you guys in the morning." You smile. You and Johnny walk back to the guest house. It's a slow walk.

When you step inside, locking the door behind you, you turn to him. "Maybe we should talk about this." You sigh. He grips your chin, holding your face still so he can kiss you, feeling you melt right into him. "Or maybe we can talk later." He breathes. His breath is warm on your face. You can't stop yourself as you nod your head. He turns you around, backing you up into the door. Pushing you up against it and kissing you again.

What were you getting yourself into?

#call of duty mw2 #cod mw2 #soap mw2 #johnny soap mactavish #mw2 smut #ghost mw2 #john soap mactavish #soap cod #soap mactavish

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kozuwhore · 2 months

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i actually never thought i'd have to make a post like this but this has actually annoyed me so much. in my previous post ,, i mentioned how me and my former friend ,, luma ,, are no longer in contact with each other due to an argument; an argument that started with them getting jealous of my irl friend and felt as though i had 'replaced' them.

while i will not only talk about that ,, i will also be disclosing their behaviour that they have performed whilst me and them had feelings for each other at the time. i will be going through everything from start to end.

before i begin ,, i want to make a quick note: if you are going to send any hate towards luma ,, that is on you and you only. i am not telling you to send hate because it won't make you any better than how they are. if you want to ask them questions about what has happened ,, ask them in a polite way and avoid any conflict.

@/scaryans aka luma was my best friend of two years ,, nearly going on three. we met on wattpad due to having a shared love of yandere simulator (neither of us support the creator) and our friendship progressed from there. we became closer upon finding out we both had feelings for one another; however ,, their toxic behaviour began inflicting onto me when i mentioned lucifer morningstar from hazbin hotel:

this was the conversation we had after me posting about lucifer. mind you ,, i never said that i was romantically interested in him ,, i just said that he was a cool character and that he is me. luma ,, however ,, got 'flashbacks' to how their ex used to be interested in not just hazbin hotel but lucifer as well. as a result ,, luma kept giving me dry responses and kept going on about how they wanted to die because of this simple matter.

in these screenshots ,, i am literally begging luma to forgive me because they would be upset with me and become depressed ,, which is something i didn’t want given how i was lovesick at the time and wanted them to keep loving me. my blinded loyalty to luma is the reason why i kept sticking by their side up until this point. shortly after me apologising ,, i agreed to never mention lucifer / hazbin hotel again to them and they forgave me (mind you ,, i had to ask if it was alright for me to mention the show).

truth be told ,, i did get jealous over some characters that luma liked as well (but i didn't say i was going to kill myself because of it). one character in particular was scar from wuthering waves ‐ he will be an important topic. i felt inferior to scar and often compared myself to him ,, something i talked to luma about:

throughout this vent with them ,, they gave me little responses and told me to watch a youtuber in hopes of calming me down when i told them about me still panicking about telling them this. they told me that they're not good at comforting others ,, which is understandable ,, but at the same time ,, i wrote MASSIVE paragraphs in hopes of making them feel better:

going back to scar ,, shortly after i told them about my feelings towards him ,, they later ask me to create headcanons and smut ideas for him not even half an hour later:

they say that it's because a few hours / half an hour feels like a couple days and that it's not an excuse; but you don't bother to change your behaviour after we had a talk that nearly cost us our friendship (before now)? the first time we discussed if our friendship should come to an end is when the callout post from @/rusmii was created and i kept finding stuff regarding people talking about luma / the experiences they through with them:

a day after i posted this to the server ,, luma puts in the chat how their mum wants them to drop me. of course ,, i was confused because it was so out of the blue but then this was the explanation:

not once did they say / imply that they don't want anyone talking or sending stuff related to the post. prior to this complaint (not even a week later) ,, we were having a conversation that consisted of them posting a meme about how they feel in regards to the post:

this was us talking about their rant and how i found something else following the callout post. i literally asked for their consent and they're making it out like i could give two fucks about how they feel ,, but i have done nothing but respect their boundaries in comparison to what they did with me with scar.

speaking of scar ,, i will now talk about how my irl friend's mention of scar (as well as my friend being in the groupchat) has resulted in why i'm making this post now. firstly ,, in regards to my friend ,, they asked me if they wanted to be part of the chat upon me mentioning a few topics (such as anime) that were involved (and that they enjoyed). i asked luma and they said yes.

may i mention that luma enjoys making new friends and they were really nice to rachelle (my friend) upon them joining the chat. however ,, luma started to become jealous of rachelle due to her putting her discord name title in the chat as 'olivia's n1 bff'. she meant this as a joke because no one can have a number one best friend but luma took this heart:

i reassured them and everything was fine between us; up until yesterday. me and rachelle were at work together and i started talking about the game ,, wuthering waves ,, and how it's a channel in the chat that keeps popping up. i talked about how my friends in the server have their f/os ,, showing rachelle different pictures of them ,, but when i showed the picture of scar ,, she got a picture of him and posted it to the chat. she talked about how she's gonna play the game because scar looks cool.

but luma being luma ,, they took it wrong and thought rachelle had a crush on them. rachelle isn't part of the selfshipping community and knows little about how attached luma is to scar / jiyan. this resulted in another conversation between us:

i asked ,, if not BEGGED ,, rachelle to take the message down because luma was clearly upset about it. she did so and everything was calming down in the chat. but luma decided to send me a message about our friendship AGAIN while the second screenshot was sent to the server SIX MINUTES LATER:

in regards to them talking about us not being best friends anymore ,, i had to comfort them AGAIN about it ,, which is when i started to get annoyed about the whole thing. we made up again but for some reason three hours later they sent another rant (classic luma behaviour):

today ,, rachelle responded to the rant and everything they said was the complete truth that i wish i got to tell them before our argument outside the chat. luma aka "the person who doesn't take responsability for their actions" soon sends a response:

you call it a "comfort space" but you're literally making me and my friend uncomfortable BECAUSE NOT ONLY ARE WE SENDING "DM-LIKE" MESSAGES TO EACH OTHER IN THE CHAT:

AND THE FACT THAT SHE DIDN'T KNOW THAT YOU HAVE AN UNHEALTHY ATTACHMENT TO A FUCKING FICTIONAL CHARACTER IS PATHETIC. how were we making a disturbance in the chat? you never said any specific person being uncomfortable with how we were talking plus rachelle only knew me PERSONALLY in the server ,, so did you really expect them to make friends that fucking quickly? good fucking bye.

yesterday ,, that was when our argument began and we finished it today. the following screenshots are what i consider to be the highlights of our dispute:

i can't add anymore screenshots due to the image limit but luma responded with "OH MY GOD CAN YOU ACTUALLY LISTEN TO ME FOR TWO SECONDS WITHOUT DICKRIDING RUNI AND THOSE ASSHOLES?" + "i swear you’ve been piggybacking off them this whole argument and it makes no sense."

you told me to take accountability for sending several apologies after i did something to upset you - which was a one time thing - and i did that ,, i respected that ,, but it's ironic that you're the one telling me to take responsibility when you haven't done that after two expose posts. THOSE POSTS were mentioned in the argument because you haven't grown yourself; you're still gatekeeping characters ,, getting overly jealous over my friend and saying that i "replaced" you.

just like rachelle said ,, you are chronically online and you need to go touch some fucking grass (without using it to smoke with). i reassured you TWICE about our friendship and you were still going on about it as if your whole world is crumbling. not only were you trying to gatekeep scar but you were beginning to want to gatekeep me ,, an actual human being ,, as well. if those two callout posts didn't help alter your behaviour ,, i hope to god this one does because this is coming from your former best friend of two years ,, which are years that i will never get back because of your toxic ways.

i regret ever defending you ,, i regret ever having feelings for you and i regret being your friend. you mean absolutely nothing to me and don't even think about my opinion as an excuse to guilt trip others into thinking you're the victim; you'll just be acting like a carbon copy of gabby hanna again.

if my other friends in the server don't wish to make contact with me anymore ,, that is fine. please talk to me in private and (for the love of god not) dick ride luma in the server or elsewhere by defending them with how they've acted that lead to this.

i would like to apologise to anyone that luma has villainised such as runi ,, zai ,, briar ,, ari and many others because you had every right to dislike them for what they have done to you / caused to others. the fact that i was siding with them didn't make things any better and i should have realised the moment the events that happened between you and luma were going on sooner. if you wish to speak with me about anything (whether it's about luma or not) ,, my dms are open and that goes for anyone else that wasn't mentioned above.

( taglist: @aslettes and @ddeardolly )

#⚠️┆important #hsr x reader #genshin x reader #wuwa x reader #bsd x reader #genshin impact #honkai star rail #wuthering waves #bungou stray dogs #<- tagging these fandoms as luma has ruined the experience of people in those fandoms #scaryans #ji-yans #lu-naes #dazaiisdior #diorlumx

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just-some-random-blogger · 8 months

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Edge Of Ever After | 1

Part 2

Sandor runs his fingers down my spine and sighs, "everything I ever touch goes to shit." He grabs my hip and pulls me close. I turn to him and nestle my face into his chest. He traps me in his arms, "but you… you turn my shit into gold."

Sandor Clegane x Reader | 5k+ | cw: fem!reader, wife!reader POV shifts!, smut (piv, emotional sex, praise kink, breeding kink), enemies to lovers, remnants of forced marriage, slow burn, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, miscommunication, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: so this is a the sequel to my Safe Keeping series. both that and this is originally posted on ao3. you dont have to read the previous series to understand what's going on, but naturally, it will make more sense if you do. I've decided not to tag everyone that asked me to tag them in safe keeping because this is another series after all. ❤❤❤ hope you like it!

Brown Wood rarely ever has its lights out, as it housed so many people. Rare were the times the place succumbed to darkness. Still, there were moments when all the servants, maids, men, and women were asleep and not candle was lit.

Lord Clegane purposefully returned to Brown Wood amidst this darkness. As he opened and closed the gate with as much care as he could, determined not to make a sound, he finds himself thinking of the first time he came here with his wife, her servant, and their dog. The darkness Brown Wood was succumbed to was not the same it was now. Where once there was fearful abandonment now had peaceful slumber.

If you told him this was the childhood home of his lady's family, he'd believe you; it was a large estate, abandoned as it was. And if you add it had been abandoned once because of a plague of woodland monsters that ended killing her family, well, he'd still believe you, because damned if he doesn't.

That's where he had come from, the cursed forest.

But the Brown Wood estate was no longer cursed, and it was all because of her, the sun of this side of Westeros, his beloved wife. It was because of her that this haunted place was now bustling with life, because of his bride... that he was so eagerly avoiding.

Sandor prayed to the gods that his wife's loyal mutts would not wake to the smell of him. He prayed as he reached for the door handle that they had not slept near the fireplace in the living area, but if they did, that they were too tired to wake.

He sucks a breath and enters his home.

Darkness. Silence. Nothing.

He releases the breath as he shut the door.

Pants. Patters. Chuffs.

"Fuck."

Sandor looks down and catches flashes of dark furred creatures circling around him. One, he recognized to be Rose because of her size, got on her back legs and rested her front paws on him. The other two began to get excited as he swatted their sister away. They thought it a challenge to start playing.

He recognizes Sage as he softly barks and immediately drops on his knees to shush the dog.

Sage and his sisters come upon him and begin to lick his body. He would have tolerated it, had he not been covered in black, tar-like muck left over on his skin and armor.

"Fuck off, pups," he whispers as he pushes them away and stands. Lilac, ever the big mouth, began to bark in protest. Her barks echoed across the whole place.

"SHHH!" he silences in a panic, "you're going to wake your mum!"

His ghost nearly leaves him when he hears, "she was never asleep to begin with."

Sandor turns and finally spots the woman that had been sitting in darkness all this time. "Bloody seven, girl," he gasps in shock, "what are you doing in the dark?"

He walks over, lighting a candle on the table, then looks at her. Her eyes were dark and tired. Her arms were crossed and jaw was clenched.

He watches her stand and look him once over.

He immediately says, "I'm not injured."

She rolls her eyes and looks away, "I can tell, Hound."

His face twitches as she walks past him. He follows after but winces when she hisses that he better not keep the candle open.

And so the Hound blows the flame out and the rest of the dogs follow their master across the place.

He wants to tell her he did good today. He really did! He saved the villagers from an attack, helped them with their cow problem too! And he counted and killed 20 monsters in the fucking woods. Twenty!

But that was the fucking problem, and he knew it. Hell, even the pups knew it.

He was spending so much time trying to eviscerate the tar fucks he was barely home anymore. But what was he to do? Not kill the them and have his wife go on an expedition to fucking Volantis looking for a witch Littlefinger told her to look for? Fuck no. He would rather feel her sheer disappointment for coming home late than to have her go to a foreign land looking for answers she doesn't even know for certain she's going to get.

Sandor soon realizes she's leading him off to the bathroom. She opens the door and lights candles for him.

"The water is surely cold now, but you'll have to make due," she says as she brings a flame to four waxen cylinders. After setting them down, she shoos the pups that followed them in and closes the door once they were out. She then walks over and helps him out of his sticky armor.

Sandor thinks she's like a fairy in this light, though she was clearly displeased with him and exhausted from waiting up.

"Forgive me for staying out late," he mutters, wanting nothing but to hold her arms as she removed his top. He wouldn't dare touch her in this state though, caked in muck.

She scoffs, "I'll forgive you when you stop doing it."

Once Sandor was out of his metal top, she looks up at him and sighs, "bathe quickly."

"Aye," he nods surely, "I will."

"I cannot sleep alone."

"Aye," he says weaker, "I know."

"Yet still you make me wait for you," she retorts tiredly.

"… I thought you'd be able to sleep with the pups."

"The pups aren't you, Sandor."

"I-"

She walks off to wash her hands. Sandor scrams to help her.

Once her hands are clean, she curtsies and exits the bathroom.

"I'll be quick," he says, because he can't say 'I didn't think it through.'

She simply hums in acknowledgment.

My eyes were heavy, head was hurting. My whole body was crying out for respite, yet I could not sleep. I hear the door. I slowly open my eyes.

I feel Sandor draw near, but he doesn't lie beside me. I barely make out his form but I hear him kneel by the bed. He takes my hand slowly into his.

"Come to bed," I mumble under my breath but even I can't hear it with how low it was.

I open my eyes enough to make out his face, at least as much as the darkness would allow me.

He speaks with the softest of voices "I don't want you to go to sleep upset with me."

I don't have it in me to continue a conversation. Instead I pull away from him and scoot back.

Sandor is perfectly still on his spot.

Once there was a good space between us, I beckon him over by patting and rubbing the bed.

Sandor climbs to my side and I immediately sprawl on top of him. The smell of his body was a comfort, the feel of his form and warmth nearly made me faint.

I could feel his tension. I rub his ribs and shush him, "go to sleep."

Sandor lifts his head to look at me. After, he lets himself relax and stare at the ceiling until sleep takes him.

When I wake up, I'm laid atop my husband. My head was rested by his left collar bone and my leg was thrown across his hips.

It takes me a few moments to realize he was rubbing my thigh. Upon looking at his hand, then his face, I confirm, he was already awake.

Sandor looks at me and frowns.

I frown back and raise my brows.

He brushes my hair away from my face, "you're mighty tired, girl."

I relax and realize what the frown was for. Normally, twas I that woke up earlier. He was concerned because that was not the case today. "I cannot sleep well without you."

"Aye," he sighs. He brings his hand to the curve of my bum, "apologies."

My breathing grows heavy as he pushes my dress up.

"I feel terrible," he mutters, "let me make it up to you." Sandor kneads at my hip and sequentially pulls me atop him.

I do not say a word, I simply let him rub his hands on my thighs. I rest my palms on his chest and watch him examine my body.

His hands find their way up my nightgown and into my smallclothes. He locks eyes with me as he tugs them down, testing to see if I'd give him permission.

I lick my lips and tilt my head. I grab his wrists. We stare at each other for a moment.

"I do not like this routine," I mutter.

Sandor's face betrays him. He looks panicked.

I huff and shake my head, "you taking me because you're guilty."

He clenches his jaw.

"I do suppose is better than… nothing… but…"

My heart leaps into my throat when Sandor calls my name. It was a rare occasion when he did, as he opted pet names; it did things to me. When I tense, he takes the opportunity to pull away and grasp my wrists.

"Tell me how to make it up to you," he whispers.

Sandor and I watch each other's stillness.

After a moment of waiting, I pull my hands away and lean into him again. I prop my hands on his chest and he allows me to do as I please. After some shimmying and hovering, I rid myself of my underwear.

He watches as I toss it off the bed and straddle snuggly on his hips. I grab his wrists and bring his hands underneath my clothes, a silent encouragement to touch me.

The Hound squeezes and claws. I suppress a sound when he bucks into me. I feel my belly swirl in excitement but I do not allow my mind to be fogged before I get to say what's long overdue.

"Stop hunting at night."

Sandor releases a deep breath as he shifts upward on the bed. He licks his lips, "you know I won't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm so close to purging those fucking monsters," he mutters as his hands roam up my body.

"H-" I whimper when he kneads my breasts. I huff, "h-how do you know that?"

"Because they're few and far between," he shifts upward again and sequentially pulls my dress off me. Before I can cover myself, his mouth covers me, or more accurately my right breast.

I lean into him and grip his shoulder.

He sucks on my flesh then licks my nipple. He grips my ribs and further sinks into my bosom. He brings his face into my cleavage and begins to suck. He was intent, I knew, on leaving marks.

I feel him begin to rock his hips and I audibly react to the feel of his pants against my bare flesh.

I bite my lower lip and grab at his shirt, attempting to pull it off him.

He groans and pulls me closer into him, unwilling to separate his mouth from my skin. He pushes my hair back and trails kisses up to my neck. He nips my skin before finally pulling away.

Now fully sat up, he looks at me darkly. He rubs the places he'd kissed, as if examining his work, then finally, takes his top off himself.

He stills when I fondle with his waistband. He rather unwillingly allows me to move and rid of his pants. Once it was past his bum, he pulls me back down like he was scared I'd run off.

I whimper when he does so. Sandor rids himself of his final piece of clothing.

"Dance on my cock, darling."

My breath hitches. My cheeks flush.

His hands sprawl across my thighs, covering them nearly wholly and urges me to move back and forth.

I gulp as I feel my body heat up as I maneuver my hips.

The groan that leaves his mouth is high praise to me.

I garble out a sound when his thumb rubs at my nub. He hisses when he feels the wetness there, "fuck, sweetheart. You drive a man mad."

He plays with me some more then pulls his hand away to spread the wetness across his fingers, "gods be fucking good, all this for me?"

My face burns with embarrassment. I bring my hand across my chest, "Sandor."

He perks with concern and immediately cages me in his arms. He peppers kisses down my neck, "no, my lady. I'm in awe of you."

I mewl when he digs his fingers into my hair and tugs at the roots.

"Such sweetness...." he whispers against my ear, "this for an ugly dog?"

"S-stop it," I quip and give him a shove.

He pulls back and looks down at me.

I hold his gaze and scowl, "don't speak like that."

"What? R'you saying you think me pretty?"

"I do," I retort.

He laughs and rubs my arms to warm me, as if I could be cold against him. He grabs my hips then ruts into me. I make a sound as I watch him take his hardened length and slowly sink into me. I gasp as I feel him press balls deep into me.

He shudders against my ear, "liar."

The Hound begins to thrust upward and the sounds I make are muffled by his mouth. He kisses me like he's starved, and perhaps he was.

He tightens his arms around me. He buries his face into my neck. He breathes in deeply. He sighs, "color me flattered though."

I squeak when he shoves me on my back and pushes my calves into my thighs. He grunts, "fuck ya good for it."

I screw my eyes shut and throw my head back as Sandor snaps into me. With every flick of his hips, the bed creaks and I move farther and farther down the bed. He has so push me down in place to keep me from slipping any farther. He pins me by my shoulder and brings my legs up in front of him.

My legs rest his shoulder. He kisses my ankle, "my darling wife."

The Hound persists in a rough and quick pace, hardly stopping, slowing only to tease me. He gnaws at whatever part of me his mouth can reach and grunts as he explores my body. He molds me against him, hands pawing at my flesh, touching, feeling, steadying.

I'm a toy, a chew toy of a hound, something he craves to stretch, gnaw, and tear but so is very selfish and protective of.

He rubs my belly and it pushes me on edge.

When I come, I'm exhausted; I always am.

When he comes, he's spent and hot and dripping; by extension, as am I.

Sandor curses as he gives his final thrusts. I'm shaking and raw beneath him. He eventually stops and looks down upon his destruction. He spreads the slick on my thighs. He wraps my legs around him like a belt.

"I love to see you like this," he mutters in between breaths.

I heave as I blink slowly. My eyes act like I didn't just wake up from my sleep; I feel exhausted.

"Want to see you heavy with child," he rubs my belly, "my child. Fuck. I want to see you full. Love to see you leaking but I can't have that."

I try to move my legs, he instantly prevents me, "a bit more, love."

"… my leg is cramping," I cover my face with my arm.

He presses my thighs back into my chest, "just a bit more."

Sandor was laid back in bed, tracing his wife's spine with his fingers. She was straddled around his waist, laid upon him like a blanket. He listened to the sound of her steady breathing and slowly, involuntary, they begin to breathe at the same pace.

He could not express the relief, the astonishment he felt the very first time she let him hold her. The fact was, his tongue itches to tell her, to thank her for allowing him to relish the softness of her body, the warmth of her skin, the gentleness of her, even when she did not have to, even when he was not she was not getting anything in return, not like when they had sex.

But he would not express this. For what good was thanks if he had nothing to show for?

Words are empty.

For his lady, he'd carve out every skull and lay them upon her feet. He was good at that. But words? Empty.

Sandor watches as his wife stirred and looked at him.

Her hair was wild, skin sticky, eyes heavy, lips swollen. If gods were real, she was one of them.

"I think we should get dressed, husband."

His stomach skips at the name. He hated that he was so affected by it when he knew that it was duty to her; all she could feel for him was borne out of duty.

He brushes her hair back and nods, "I will not keep you longer than you'd like."

He notices how she purses her lips. He notices how she smiles. A dutiful smile.

Sandor smiles back. He wishes she'd grin at him the way she did her pups but he was hardly anything to grin about.

He watches as she pushes herself up and stands. He watches as she grabs her shift from the floor and heads to the bathroom.

Sandor rolls on the bed, breathing in the scent of their fucking… their love making. He loved her.

How could he love her if he hurt her?

He sighs and fantasizes about his wife being with child. He wonders if she'd like him more or stop caring for him once that happens.

He shakes it out of his head before he makes himself sad.

Later that day, he's back to training the boys how not to get themselves killed with their own swords. They've learned to be punctual all on their own (Polly snitches on whoever was late for the day, though he's never really set a time when practice starts).

Sage liked watching practice. He never did anything besides walk around and sniff whatever he could put his nose to, but he was always there. In some way, Sandor was very touched by this.

He was very protective of the pup, and found himself watching the small creature more than the kids he's supposed to be teaching.

But of course, he doesn't give a fuck about anyone else when his wife comes out.

"Sandor."

Immediately, Sandor turns around and perks up at the sound of the voice. Unbeknownst to him, the rest of the people in the yard do as well.

Lucy walks next to her lady. She holds a basket in one hand while she brings the other around her lady's arm. He feels a bitterness in his mouth, a bitter envy over the comfort the two women had with each other. He knows he'll never have that with his wife, but it doesn't hurt him any less.

"Lucy and I will go out to the market."

He drops everything and steps forward, "I'll accompany you."

Sage sticks his tongue out as he runs towards his beloved master, as if he understood the conversation, as if saying he, too, would be coming.

Sandor takes one look at the pup and says, "you sure as fuck 're not invited, dog."

Lady Clegane hushes the dog and reiterates a puppy cannot join them, then she looks up at Lord Clegane, "you do not have to join us either."

Sandor doesn't argue, he simply looks at Lucy, who was giving him a greasy look, and heads off to the gates.

Sandor had absolutely no idea which part of the market they were headed, so when they got there, he constantly glanced over his shoulder until eventually, his wife stopped at a vegetable stand. He turns back and hovers by them.

"Do you think we should get pumpkins?" Lady Clegane asks while absentmindedly holding an onion.

Lucy tilts her head, "we could but I don't think I could carry it."

"I'll carry it," Sandor chirps.

The two turn to him. His wife smiles and Lucy grins like a fool.

They end up buying a pumpkin that was nearly the size of his head.

Sandor is unable to make out what the two women were talking about as they walked in front of him because of how many people waved good morning or greeted him far too jovially. At a point, the women had to stop as Sandor got held up by a crowd of people wanting to have small talk with him.

Like a star, his wife saves him with her shining smile, garnering all the attention of the people for herself and quickly dispelling it. He has no idea how she does it.

They move on after and then his wife spots a stand of strawberries. He vaguely hears her excitedly tell Lucy how much she loves strawberry pie. Lucy tells her she knows this in the same excited way.

Lady Clegane is allowed to sample a strawberry. The Hound catches himself smiling at the way his wife savored the fruit.

They buy a basket full of strawberries and, just as Lucy and her lady walk away, Sandor asks the vendor where he could strawberry seeds. He doesn't get a straight answer right away and by the time he does, the women have walked off quite far.

Thankfully, by the time they notice their Hound was missing, Sandor managed to come back with a pouch of strawberry seeds in his pocket. He doesn't say anything about it though.

When they get back to Brown Wood, he immediately asks the groundskeeper, Job, if he could help him plant strawberries.

One of the servant girls, Margaret, was helping me out today. I was attempting to bake strawberry pie, and after three failed attempts, it was shaping up to be a futile task.

Margaret, face flushed and temples moistened with sweat, placed the fourth pie she fetched from the oven onto the kitchen counter. I frown as she wipes her forehead on her sleeve but play it off when she turns to me with a grin. Margaret says, "it smells so good, milady."

I give her back a smile, "I am glad to hear it."

She watches as I grab the knife and lean onto the counter. She says, "I'm very, very, very sure that we managed to make the pie just the way you like it."

I chuckle at the girl and place a hand on her shoulder, "I would hope so. I feel terrible for taking you from your chores, Margaret."

She perks and immediately shakes her head and hands, "don't be, milady! We all of us love helping you out," she brushes her hair away from her face, "even if we have to make twenty more pies to suit your taste, I would not complain."

I laugh softly as I take a towel and hold the hot pie tin in place. I take a slice of the dessert, though it was still scalding, and transfer it to my plate. I then move it towards the 3 other pies on the counter.

The truth is, there was nothing wrong with the pies. I had Margaret help me with making them precisely because she knew how to and I didn't. It's just that they didn't taste like the ones in my childhood, and I could not take it.

There was a pit in my stomach because of my lacking attempts. It was not of hunger, make no mistake, it was of longing.

I take a forkful of pie from my plate and take my time blowing some air on to the jammy thing before taking it into my mouth.

Margaret watches me with anticipation as I chew.

I look at her hopeful eyes, wanting nothing but to tell her we finally did it, but I supply her the truth, "it still tastes different."

Margaret deflates. I place the fork down on my plate as I lick my lips.

"Although the lemon and the cream did help a lot," I offer as consolation.

The girl perks and claps her hands, "then we're on the right path!"

I clear my throat and smile.

"Perhaps we can try adding other fruits into it. Or maybe you can try to recall some more details about the pie? Like a smell? Vanilla is hard to miss."

"Mmm, I don't think they added vanilla." I push the plate towards Margaret, "have a try, but be careful. It's still piping hot."

She grins at me, "thank you, milady!" then grins at the pie, taking her own fork.

I laugh at her, feeling a giddy sensation as I watch her lean forward as she takes a slice.

Margaret was the youngest out of the servant girls. She was 10 and 5 but looked quite mature for her age because of her height and fuller figure. Her demeanor was fully that of a darling girl though. Her parents used to be bakers. She told me she does not remember where their bodies were buried, so she occasionally offers prayers for them at an oak tree she used to swing on.

I imagine what it would be like for me to have my own child here in this moment. Would they also like strawberry pie? Would they care to help make it? Would they smile at me like Margaret?

I look up and see the Hound marching over. He looked a bit winded, and I figure he came from training. My belly tingles as we make eye contact.

Margaret finally takes a bite and she quite literally jumps up. She covers he mouth as she speaks, "THIS IS DELICIOUS!"

I giggle, "is it really?"

"By the gods, milady. You mean to tell me what you used to eat was better than this?"

I chuckle and watch as Sandor walks over. He heads for the cupboard where he immediately snatches a bottle of wine. He uncorks it with a pop and chugs it.

"Ehm, in a word it is," I reply to Margaret, "all I know is that it tastes different. I can't quite figure what however."

Sandor lets out a satisfied breath as he pulls the bottle away from his lips. He walks towards me, and it seems as though Margaret noticed him only now, judging by the way she jolted back and quickly greeted him.

The Hound ignores her though as he scrutinizes the countertop. He turns to me, "been baking all day, have you, little girl?"

I part my lips and battle with myself on a response. On one hand, I want to nag about how I was suddenly little girl again, but then again I quite enjoyed how his lips subtly curved upward as he spoke it.

Margaret steps back as Sandor takes up all the space by my side.

Although it was not glaringly obvious, there was a look of amusement in my husband's eyes. He sets the wine next to the pie slice and leans on the counter to get eye level with me, "you gonna give me a taste?"

I watch as he licks his lips and catch the way the wine stained them.

And so, to ward off my inner turmoil, I nag him about that instead, "alright. A slice in return for this," I snag the wine bottle, shocked by how he managed to drink it half empty already, though I really shouldn't. "You've had enough wine for today, Hound."

Sandor straightens up, dumbfounded by the turn of events. He shifts on his spot to watch me hand over the wine to Margaret, "get me a pitcher of water, my dear."

"Fuck water," Sandor scoffs.

Margaret looks between me and Sandor, heavily unsure and anxious of what to do next.

"Give me the bottle, wench," the Hound barks.

Margaret gulps and I take a step between them.

"Stop it," I scowl at him.

"But-"

"You won't enjoy the flavor of the pie if you ruin your tongue with wine." I look over and dismiss Margaret. She quickly curtsies and runs off.

"Hey- GIVE IT BA-"

"Stop it!" I grab his shoulders, "quit scaring the girl!"

The Hound walks back as I push him, "she took my wine!"

"You can have wine at supper," I quip, "if you're going to have pie, just have pie."

Sandor huffs as I release him. I then take my fork and slice a chunk for him. I bring the fork to my lips and take a moment to blow on the pie. Once it's cool enough, I bring my fork towards Sandor, my other hand underneath it to catch any falling crumbs. I get on my tiptoes to have a better hold on the fork.

He pulls his head back at first, but two seconds later, he leans in and takes a bite.

I relax on the pads of my feet and put the fork down.

He chews as he looks down on me.

I stare up at him with expectation.

He licks his lips and nods, "it's good."

I wait for him to say anything more but he doesn't. I press my lips into a line, "that's nice to hear."

He looks at me for a moment, hums, and tilts his head, "what do I owe you, then?"

"What?"

"What do I owe you?"

I raise my brows.

"Want me to feed you next?" he raises a brow.

I furrow my brows, "no…? You don't owe me anything."

He hums and shakes his head, "how about a kiss?"

"What?"

Sandor smiles lopsidedly. He bends and places his hands on my waist, yanking me into him. My body blazes with crackling flames as I'm pressed against him.

Before he can lean in, I push him by his chest with both hands. I immediately turn my face away and quip with my eyes shut, "you don't have to kiss me!"

I hold my breath. Sandor watches. Slowly, whatever expression he held slips off and gets tugged down along with the corners of his lips.

He releases me and I catch my breath. Sandor feels like his hands and arms were foreign appendages that had no business being on him. He awkwardly clenches and unclenches his fists.

I turn back to him with knit brows. He looks at me with a hard expression.

"You don't owe me things, Sandor."

His expression tightens.

I huff and place a hand on his chest, "I don't do things so… you have to repay me…"

A deep line forms between his brows.

I shake my head, shrug and smile softly, "I do them because I want to… you should only do the same."

He sighs through his nostrils and takes the hand I had on his chest. He brings it into his large ones and looks at them.

He opens his mouth and speaks so softly, under his breath, "you have such a strong sense of duty."

I blink at his words, thinking they somehow feel out of context. I figure it was true anyway, so I agree, "a sense of duty keeps me together."

Sandor turns back to me, "just as your duty being my wife."

I raise my brows.

He kisses the back of my hand before setting it down. He nods at me as he mutters, "I want what you want… If you don't want me to kiss you, then I won't."

My eyes widen, "I- I didn't say that."

He chuckles dryly, "you pulled away so fervently."

"Because you asked me what you owed!" I exclaimed, "you don't owe me."

He laughs a bit louder, "everything's got a price."

For a moment we stare at each other.

"Then how much do I owe you?"

He seems to thinks for a moment. He offers no response.

I suck in a breath, "if you want to kiss me, kiss me. Kiss me because you want to, not because… you owe me." I feel pathetic as I add, "I do not wish to buy your affection."

"Do you want me to kiss you?"

I feel my mouth go dry. It's as though my voice is taken from me and I barely manage to croak out a, "yes."

It takes too long. The Hound does not believe it. He shakes his head and says with no conviction, "very well."

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aziraphales-library · 22 hours

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Hi!!! Do you have any fics where aziraphale is famous and crowley's just a "nobody"? preferably without explicit scenes, please :)) thank you so so much <3<3

Hello! We have a #famous aziraphale tag. Here are some fics in which Aziraphale is famous and Crowley is not. I could only find a couple of non-explicit fics, I'm afraid, but I'm pretty sure the smut is minimal/skippable in most of these...

First Thing In The Morning by FeralTuxedo (E)

Aziraphale Fell, erstwhile nerd, now successful fantasy author, is signing books at this year’s Heaven and Earth convention when he spots a red-headed man in the crowd. Someone he hasn’t quite been able to forget since his school days. And as luck would have it, Anthony Crowley, former troublemaker, now responsible adult, seems keen to reconnect.

Pride Month and Prejudice by TawnyOwl95 (E)

They say that you should never meet your celebrity crush. Especially when you know what an absolute bastard he is. So, of course, Anthony J. Crowley's participation in a queer adaptation of Pride and Prejudice for Pride Month has nothing to do with the involvement of A-lister A.Z. Fell. Crowley is only doing it so he has some gossip for his column. He didn't mean to get cast as Lizzy Bennet, he certainly didn't mean to be acting opposite Fell's Mr Darcy. And to make matters worse, Fell keeps staring at him...

Veni Vino Vegas (I Came, I Got Drunk, I Got Married) by A_N_D (T)

After a whirlwind drunken evening, author Az Fell came home from Rom-Con without his heirloom pinkie ring – but with a wedding license from a 24-hour Las Vegas chapel. Elsewhere, book fan Tony Crowley woke up with a hangover, vague memories, and a brand new ring he’s only seen in author photos. Mutually attracted, mutually terrified the other one thinks it was all a regrettable mistake, they turn to their dear but anonymous online friend to vent and ask for advice. …Maybe they should tell each other their screennames someday.

and now all of my garden is grown in lavender by ilikeblue (E)

Popular queer romance author, A.Z. Fell, has been lying about having a husband and a happy marriage for years. Longing to escape a string of failed relationships and looking for a fresh start, Aziraphale moves into the cottage left to him by his Great Aunt Agnes. When a TV adaptation of one of his books leads to sudden popularity and throws him into the limelight, his fans (and the press) are eager to catch a glimpse of Aziraphale's own mysterious leading man. Unfortunately, he still has to cast someone for that role. Enter the handsome gardener… Under Crowley's meticulous care the cottage's neglected garden slowly comes back to life, and Aziraphale finds himself writing the most important love story he'll ever write: his own

Once upon a time by elf_on_the_shelf (E)

‘Hello, my dear.’ Crowley bit his lip for a couple of seconds before he took a deep breath and just went with it. ‘Would you like to go for a coffee sometime?’ There was silence at the other end. Oh shit. ‘That was my friend messing around with my phone…?’ ‘You do realise that only works over text.’ ‘Myeah.’ Why was he like this? He had wanted to kill Bea for doing the same thing and yet here he was, doing the thing. At Bea’s behest, mind you. ‘I would love to go for coffee. Oh, and cake!’ Aziraphale is a very rich and successful writer. Crowley is at the worst possible moment of his life - living off Bee's couch and posting his mum's fairy tales on some random sites only to be ignored by everyone except one random person simply called A. This is a story about how both of our main protagonists get over the ghosts of their pasts, learn to work together and maybe - just maybe - fall in love in the process. Not to mention that all of the characters that we love (hate - looking at you, Gabe) make an appearance.

The Infernal Bodyguard by Santillatron (M)

Alistair Zira Fell is a popular author. Loved by everyone he meets. Well, almost everyone. Someone is trying to hurt him, and right now, he needs a bodyguard. Anthony J. Crowley is the best, although he doesn't work with celebrities. He has three rules. He never gets too close, never stays once the job is done, and Never Gets Involved. But this isn't a thriller. This, is a love story.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #human au #adult omens #famous aziraphale #writer aziraphale #mod d

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liquidluckandstuff · 1 year

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Drabble: Harry feel sorry for Tom Riddle

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "Could you possibly be feeling sorry for Lord Voldemort?" Harry wanted to say "yes, of course," but something stopped him. He had once said Harry's greatest power was his ability to love and care for others, but a sinking feeling had Harry thinking that didn't apply to little boys who just waned to be loved.

Did he feel sorry for a little boy in a cupboard under the stairs, who just wanted a mum and dad to love him? Once upon a time that could have been all Tom Riddle wanted too, but Dumbledore thought it was a better idea to set his wardrobe on fire to prove a point rather than to get to the root of the issue.

Harry once stole pencils and markers from his classmates because he wanted to draw when get got back into his cupboard because there was nothing else to do. Would Dumbledore have set those on fire too?

If the Headmaster didn't feel sorry for Tom Riddle then, did he feel sorry for Harry now, after everything he has gone through?

A dark realization came over Harry that the answer his last question was a simple "No."

Then, Harry understood why someone would want to become a Dark Lord. With men like Albus Dumbledore in power; with all of their hypocrisy and lies, little boys in orphanages and cupboards would always be desperate for the things they wanted most in the world.

Tom Riddle just wanted to be understood, and his chance was burned away in front of his eyes.

So, now he is doing it to everything else.

Harry just wanted to be loved, and his chances keep being killed in front of him again and again and again...

Harry looked up at Dumbledore and lied "No, I don't feel sorry for him," But in his mind he was picturing a horrified little boy watching his first chances at acceptance being burned away in front of his eyes.

#Harry potter #Drabble #Fanfic #Tom Riddle #tomarry #Tomarrymort

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ariadynamics · 9 months

Text

Once upon a time, I had this Maxiel WIP where Daniel wrote a tell-all book, but then I kind of forgot about it. Then I was thinking about what to write for @danifesting's tiny fic/holiday card, and suddenly I couldn't get that WIP out of my head.

I ended up writing a little more from that universe for Ali, and honestly, I think I actually want to flesh this out and write the full fic??? Anyway, for Ali, who is one of the best, kindest, most wonderful friends I know 💜.

You probably don't need to read the first little bit before reading this, but it's short, anyway!

// Maxiel

There’s a clear distinction between couldn’t and wouldn’t. Still, from how Max clutches the stack of papers in his hands, his knuckles red, burgeoning on purple, Daniel knows it’s not the time to pick apart his words.

He allows the thought to sit in his chest momentarily before pursing his lips and letting out a soft sigh.

It had never been about his willingness--or unwillingness, from Max’s point of view--to love Max. That Daniel would grow to love Max, would fall in love with Max in a way that shuts the door on other people fully and with deafening finality? That had never been a question.

Max, for Daniel, had been inevitable.

Daniel couldn’t love Max, though. Certainly not then, not when Daniel was still driving and had been so determined to prove to the world that he was someone at the expense of it all--even himself. The Daniel then couldn’t be queer; he couldn’t be interested in men. And he certainly couldn’t be interested in his fucking teammate.

He feels two sharp tugs at his sweater.

“Uncle Danny?” Issac asks with a slight hesitation in his voice.

Daniel blows out a breath, dragging the biggest smile he could muster to the surface. “It’s all right, Issac. Why don’t you head on out, yeah? Tell your Mum I probably won’t be coming for supper tonight.”

Issac looks at him, worried. “Are you sure, Uncle Danny?”

“I’m all good here, I promise,” Daniel says, ruffling the top of Issac’s hair. He gives Max a tired grin. Daniel doesn’t know whether it’s good or bad that Max hasn’t taken his eyes off him at all. “It’s not like Max here will kill me, yeah? We’re just going to catch up.”

His nephew doesn’t look convinced, but after giving Max another once over, Issac nods, grim. “If you get chopped up into pieces, I’m getting your dirt bike collection,” he says before nudging past Max, straight out the door and making a beeline towards the front gates.

“He’s a little intense,” Daniel says, shrugging. He won’t apologize for Issac, not when he still doesn’t know why Max is even here. “Come in; you must be exhausted.” Daniel turns around, walking towards the kitchen, not looking back to see if Max had followed him.

He tries to ignore the relief that pools at the pit of his stomach when he hears the light scuffling of Max’s shoes behind him.

Rummaging through his fridge, Daniel pulls out a carton of orange juice and a water bottle. “You must be thirsty,” he starts, pouring Max a glass. “I’m afraid I’m not fully stocked up yet. Just got here from--”

“I didn’t come here for a fucking drink,” Max interrupts, jaw set.

Daniel can’t help but mirror Max’s tone. “Why the hell did you come here, then?”

“Did you love me?” Max asks instead of answering, his voice cracking at the edges. “Before.”

His first instincts tell him to run, but Daniel plants his feet harder on the ground. He’s done with running. This time, Daniel wants roots. “Which time?”

Max slams his papers on the kitchen island, the first few loose pages on the top of the heap scattering to the floor. “What the fuck does that even mean? What do you mean ‘which time’?” he asks, shaking. “After you won in Monaco, after I told you how I felt about you. When the fuck else? Are you saying you loved me at any other point in time?” Max spits out the last bit with venom, almost making Daniel recoil.

“Yes,” he says, quiet, but firm. Daniel carefully gathers the papers, squaring them up neatly. He pushes them to the side, making sure there’s nothing on the counter between them. “And yes. Every time, Max.”

#maxiel #tiny fic #my fic #danifesting is literally my fave #and pretty much every maxiel thing I've written has been for them heh #f1

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the-garbanzo-annex-jr · 2 months

Text

by Rachel Wahba

Vice President Kamala Harris’ emphatically raised voice demanding we must “have the courage to object when they use the term ‘Radical Islamic Terrorism?’” rings in my ears. In what world is that “courage”?

It was radical Islamic terrorists who blew up the Twin Towers and destroyed thousands of American lives. It was radical Islamic terrorists who crossed Gaza into Israel and broke the country’s heart and caused the most heinous of acts that they, the Islamist terrorists proudly filmed on their bodycams.

And the terrorist adjacent chanting “from the river to the sea Palestine will be free Yitbach El Yahud” crashes into our world here on the streets of Los Angeles, New York, San Francisco. “Hamas is coming” in blood red paint on monuments in DC is not just a “protest” of a very unpopular Israeli Prime Minister.

There is no question Jews are between a rock and a hard place. We have for the most part been proud liberals. I remain a proud liberal. But I will never vote against Israel. Never again is now.

If this country is not one hundred percent behind Israel and resists putting the burden of Gazan suffering on Hamas and Radical Islamist Terrorists and Iranian and Qatar funded terrorism, the Democratic party we have supported is a sham.

“Americans are naive,” Granny said when I talked with her so long ago. But I no longer think it’s naivete. Its delusional self interest and arrogance not to recognize evil. Hamas is nothing more than a monstrous murderous death cult ready to kill all its people in the service of its paymaster, Iran. It should not be that hard to understand that Iran plans much more than Bin Laden’s pilots could ever do.

“Anti-Zionist” chants marching down major cities in America echo Islamic threats against Jews. Terrifying protests on college campuses and cities across America scream for Israel’s demise, raise Hamas flags and burn American flags, glorify terrorism and normalize anti-Zionism, the Jew hatred of our time.

Denial of life under Islam is astounding despite common knowledge that gay people are not allowed to be free in Islamic countries, and caught being gay means being thrown off rooftops in Tehran, raped with iron rods (if you are a man) and dragged through the streets of Gaza, and hung on telephone poles in the Palestinian Territories. There are no open gay people in Palestine. They flee for their lives to Tel Aviv.

You have to wonder how a progressive community I briefly felt safe in once upon a time, hates Israel, the only safe space for queer men and women, and are mum on Iran, poster child of oppression of women, murder and torture of gays, literally cloaking the country in black.

The Orwellian Progressive idealization of monsters who started a war in the most brutal of ways and continue the war by horrifically using its own in every way possible, using its own women men and children, as many of them as it takes, all of Gaza if need be, as human ammunition to get rid of Jews and Israel is mind boggling stuff.

Granny, you were right. Bin Laden’s rag tag jihadis were here then plowing into the Twin Towers. And it isn’t just “naivete,”on the part of people who refuse to see. It’s denial, a sick arrogance, a cynical dance by our politicians, an ease from having lived too well too easily in the best country for too long, and a very old antisemitism.

#radical islamic terrorism #islamic terrorism #kamala harris #twin towers #osama bin laden #islam #yitbach el yahud #rachel whaba #tel aviv #gay people in palestine #jews

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overtrred28 · 3 months

Text

Stargirl | matildas x original character fic [part fourteen]

Words; 2.6k

Pairings; matildas team x astrid taylor (OC)

Warnings; none

A/N; Putting up this fic again on here instead of just on wattpad so get ready for 5 chapters in a row uploaded. This story is so special to me and a real escape from the reality of juggling three jobs and I hope you all enjoy it. Love ya x

masterlist

A few hours later the team were boarding a plane and heading straight to Denmark ahead of their next game. A lot of the girls were tired from the match and the past few days of travelling, except those younger players like Astrid, Charli, Kyra and Courtney who were still somehow on a high. They sat in two rows with Charli and Courtney behind Astrid and Kyra so that they could talk to one another between the seats.

The chatter between them didn’t last long though as exhaustion finally caught up to the main culprit, Astrid, as she found her head inching closer and closer to Kyra’s shoulder. Kyra was quick to welcome the action and soon found herself falling asleep alongside her for the remainder of the short flight.

As the flight came to an end, Charli called upon the older girls who were slowly getting up from their seats to witness the sleeping pair. They of course were taking photos and videos of them, admiring their cute positioning, before Steph came forward and attempted to wake them up. Steph was gentle with her approach, tapping on both of their shoulders before calling out to them.

“Kyra, Astrid, time to get up guys.” Steph spoke softly, letting out a giggle when Astrid only began to nuzzle herself further in Kyra and stayed asleep. Steph tried once more but no luck as the duo didn’t respond again.

“Okay, my turn.” Mackenzie had gotten up from her seat and gently pushed Steph aside. She had a smirk on her face as she approached the duo, stepping into Charli and Courtney’s now empty row, placing both hands on the tops of their seats from behind.

“Wake up!” The goalkeeper almost screamed as she violently shook their seats, instantly scaring Kyra and Astrid awake at the intense motion. They both let out a small scream as they woke up, gripping onto their seats with racing hearts. The shaking stopped almost instantly as Macca doubled over in laughter at their reactions, the remaining team members also laughing as they watched on.

Astrid panted while looking around for the culprit and when she spotted Mackenzie almost on the floor whilst laughing, it took everything for her to not jump straight over Kyra and tackle her. But Mackenzie was running for her life down the aisle, getting off the plane fast and avoiding Astrid’s rage.

“I’m going to kill her.” Astrid muttered to herself while collecting her bags from under the seat, Kyra snickering at her and moving around in silence.

“Maybe tomorrow after you’ve slept it off.” Steph’s voice came from just ahead, the last one waiting for them to get off the plane. “Let’s go, you two.” She began walking to the exit, Kyra and Astrid walking behind her while yawning.

The high from winning was back at breakfast the next day after a night of rest, and Astrid was warmly welcomed into the dining room when she finally made her way down. She tried to just collect her breakfast and sit down at the table she normally did but was interrupted by multiple pats on her back or head and everyone continuing to congratulate her on her hat trick yesterday. She made her truce with Mackenzie but still pondered silently on ways to get her back when she least expects it.

She finally made it to her seat between Charli and Kyra, immediately digging into the food she had been thinking about since she woke up. Astrid managed to eat her breakfast without interruptions, only talking occasionally with the girls at her table before cleaning up her spot and returning to her room.

She was rummaging through her bags for her training kit when her phone began to vibrate. Reaching in her hoodie pocket to find her mum’s contact lighting up the screen. She moved to sit on her bed before answering the facetime.

“Hi mum!” Astrid smiled at her through the screen.

“Oh hi my darling. Have I woken you? Is it still too early there?” Joanna asked, worrying she had yet again messed up the time zones.

“No, I just got back from breakfast.” Astrid reassured her.

“Oh good. I’m sorry I didn’t call last night after the game, but it was so late here and when we woke up it was the middle of the night for you and…” Joanna rambled.

“Mum, it’s fine. I knew you would have called sometime today. Besides,we were on the plane within a few hours anyway.” Astrid sat up against the headboard, watching her mother’s face visibly soften at the sight of her daughter. “What did you think of the game?” Astrid always valued her parents' opinion of her performances, knowing their kind words would diminish any anxiety or worry in herself.

“Oh Astrid!” Joanna exclaimed, Astrid giggling at her reaction. “We have never been so proud of you! You were absolutely incredible my darling.” Joanna beamed for her daughter and her accomplishments. “You should have seen your dad and I last night, on the edge of our seats and off our bums within seconds of all your goals!” They both laughed on either end of the phone.

“I can imagine.” Astrid laughed once more, imagining just what she had described. “Thanks mum.” Her voice fell quieter with a small smile on her face.

“Dad at work?” She asked.

“He is, but he promised he would call later when he gets home and hopefully you're not training or anything by then.” Joanna explained and Astrid nodded from her end.

“Okay, I’ll let him know when I’m finished up for today.” Astrid smiled softly. “I-” She was cut off by the door opening, turning her head to see who it was.

“Okay, it’s been more than 10 minutes since you said you were getting changed and-” Kyra stormed playfully into the room, stopping when she saw Astrid sitting on the bed, looking up at her and still not dressed in her training gear.

“Say hi to mum while I finish getting ready.” Astrid simply turned the phone in Kyra’s direction, Joanna waving with a smile through the screen.

“Joanna! How are you?” Kyra snatched the phone and waved excitedly at the woman, Astrid finding her clothes behind her suitcase and heading off to the bathroom to change.

Through the closed door, Astrid could hear Kyra and Joanna talking to one another about the game and other random things before she exited and silently watched from the doorway. Kyra and Joanna laughed with each other over the phone, Astrid’s heart warming at the interaction. She checked her watch and realised it really was time for them to get going.

“I thought you said I was going to be the one to make us late, now it looks like it’ll be you.” Astrid walked over to sit beside Kyra, falling back into the frame.

“Well how could I deny a chat with the one and only Joanna Taylor.” Kyra scoffed, turning to smile at Astrid. “But if you insist we must go…” She shrugged her shoulders with a pout.

“Well, although I don’t mind our reputation of being late,” Astrid raised her eyebrows at Kyra. “I’d rather not prove the girls right and let them go on about it all session for once.” She argued with Kyra who seemed to agree with a slight nod. “Sorry mum, but we do have to go now.” Astrid took her phone back from Kyra’s hands.

“I’ll talk to you later then darling. You girls have a good day and say hi to Charli and Courtney for me please?” Joanna smiled at her daughter and her best friend who now wrapped her arms around Astrid’s neck.

“We will. I love you.” Astrid blew a kiss through the screen, Joanna catching it and placing it on her cheek.

“I love you too.” They all waved at each other before hanging up.

“Get off me you monkey!” Astrid laughed as she tried to peel the arms off her but Kyra persisted, gripping tighter while laughing with her. “I’m serious!” Astrid tried to get up off the bed.

“Carry me.” Kyra stood with Astrid who paused for a second before bending down and waiting for Kyra's legs.

“You’re so annoying.” Astrid grunted as Kyra was now fully on her back, holding arms tight around her legs to hold her up. “At least open the doors for us then.” Astrid turned her head to look up at her, Kyra nodding in response, reaching forward to pull the front door open and making sure it fell shut as they left.

They had successfully made it down to the lobby with Kyra still on Astrid’s back, meeting the team who were waiting for them like always. Charli laughed as she saw Astrid beginning to struggle under the weight of Kyra, snapping a quick photo for later purposes.

“Okay Kyra, seriously get off me or we’re both going down together.” Astrid panted from underneath the older girl.

“Fine.” Kyra huffed before jumping down and Astrid let out a sigh of relief as she stood up straight and cracked her back.

“Thank you.” Astrid smiled at her before they both turned their head towards someone clapping their hands at them.

“You two! Let’s go!” Katrina was the last one standing at the entrance, everyone else now outside waiting on the bus for them.

“Coming mum!” Kyra and Astrid sang out in sync, laughing as they ran to the older woman who was shaking her head and walking out the door.

Successfully the team made it to their recovery session being held at the Viborg Stadium ahead of their next match, everyone piling inside their gym to complete their recovery individually.

Astrid spent the whole session singing and dancing more than actually recovering, annoying everyone with her karaoke of Hannah Montana and Taylor Swift, before the coaches told her to get on with her workout or she was in trouble.

Recovery ended the way it always did, with the ice baths/pools. And of course like always Astrid was one of the first in there, teasing everyone who took their time and didn’t embrace the cold like she did. But it came to an end finally and they were all encouraged to go enjoy their free time before the next two days of training ahead of the match against Denmark.

“Who’s up for exploring the city?” Teagan posed the question to everyone once they had returned to the hotel and now congregated in the common room, most people nodding or humming in agreement. Astrid and Kyra looked at each other with the same thought on their minds.

“Astrid? Kyra?” Charli caught the attention of the girls. “You guys coming?” She asked and they looked at each other once more, silently communicating and Charli stood there waiting.

“I think we’re going to head off on our own.” Astrid finally spoke. “Kyra owes me lunch.” Kyra nodded at Astrid’s statement, watching Charli’s face fall even further into confusion.

“I lost a bet, so now I buy her lunch.” Kyra simply stated and stood up waiting for Astrid to follow her. Astrid nodded and stood next to Kyra.

“Alright, guess I’ll see you two later then.” Charli shook herself back to reality and stared at the two people who were famous for bickering, waiting to willingly hang out with one another. “Be safe.” She added as they left.

“We will.” They called out in sync as they left the hotel, everyone in the room watching on in slight confusion.

“That was weird right?” Charli spoke into the room, looking at everyone’s faces.

“Very.” “Yes.” “Let’s hope they don’t kill each other.” Different voices rang out before everyone began laughing and preparing to explore on their own accord as a team.

The pair walked around the streets close to the hotel for a while, trying to spot a quiet yet decent looking restaurant.

“How about this one?” Kyra pointed up at the sign, attempting to read the Danish but because she didn’t know any part of the language it didn’t really work. Astrid let out a small laugh and pushed Kyra closer to the entrance. “This one it is then.” She murmured as she pushed the door open for the both of them.

“Oh thank god.” Astrid silently let out as they opened the menus once they found a table, grateful to find English translations underneath the Danish food listings.

A server came over to the pair and once he realised they couldn’t understand him, he simply asked them to point out the items they wanted and he scribbled them down quickly. Astrid and Kyra were slightly embarrassed at the situation but quickly began laughing over it.

They talked on and off while eating about random things that were going on and checking in on one another's families. But they were already around each other so much they didn’t need to constantly fill the silence.

Kyra stuck to her promise and paid for the whole lunch, both of them thanking the staff before heading out of the restaurant and back onto the streets of Denmark.

“Oh thank god!” A loud voice came from behind Kyra and Astrid, a familiar pair of arms wrapping around both of their shoulders and slotting themself between them.

“Jesus Charli.” Astrid sighed, turning her head towards the blonde. “What are you going on about?” Astrid sent a quizzed look to Charli and paused the three of them on the street.

“You guys spent over an hour together alone and didn’t kill each other.” Charli exaggerated, Kyra and Astrid both rolled their eyes at her comment. “It’s a miracle!” She laughed and removed herself from both girls.

“Leave em alone Charli.” Mini’s voice piped up from behind them, all three turning to see Harper sitting on her hip and the rest of the team walking close behind them.

“Harps!” Astrid took long strides to reach them, Harper’s little face lighting up at the sight of Astrid, almost jumping out of her mothers arms and into Astrid’s open ones.

“Weeee!” Harper squealed and giggled as Astrid carefully swung her around in the air before placing her on her hip, Harper instantly snuggling up against the youngest Matilda. The team began their walk back to the hotel after finding Kyra and Astrid, all feeling a little tired after the late night flight and early morning recovery.

A lot of the team chose to hang out together in the main conference room of the hotel, now that it had become their designated hang out room during free time, either just chilling on their phones or playing games with each other.

Though Astrid, kyra, Charli and Teagan had taken the task of entertaining Harper so that Mini could take a nap. It was a fun yet hard task to complete, Harper often had a lot of energy and an inability to stick with one activity for too long.

So like always they started with physical games to tire her out, chasing her around and losing their own energy in the process. Then they moved onto any toys mini had left with them, spending their time playing barbies or dolls and then finally putting on a disney movie they would all enjoy.

So that's how mini found them all after an hour, fast asleep on couches and bean bags with Inside Out playing over Charli’s laptop, and Harper laying over Astrid’s chest. She thought there was no harm done so she left them there, reminding herself to come back and retrieve them all before dinner.

to be continued...

#auswnt #woso x reader #matildas #matildas x reader #kyra cooney cross #charli grant #cortnee vine #courtney nevin #steph catley #sam kerr #caitlin foord #mackenzie arnold #alanna kennedy #woso

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cuffmeinblack · 1 year

Text

Sharing

Garreth x reader fluffy drabble

You'd shared all sort of things with Garreth, most notably sweets and secrets—he was your best friend, after all, but there was one secret, one aspect of your life you'd kept hidden. He had no idea of the events that took placed in your fifth year. Of course he knew of your heroic acts—and were still confused and flabbergasted by the mere thought of them—but for all intents and purposes you were just a normal student, albeit incredibly brave and even moreso lucky.

That's what you'd put it down to—luck. Whilst he hadn't questioned it at the time, as he matured and understood better the ways of the world and just how unforgiving it could really be, his eyes flickered with doubt whenever your past was mentioned. The first time you kissed him, you thought of divulging that part of you, but ultimately shyed away in fear that he'd feel differently about you. So it continued. You contemplated the idea again after the first time you made love, and the first time he said he loved you, and you him.

When you left Hogwarts and settled into a small flat in Hogsmeade just around the corner from Garreth, it seemed as if you'd left it too late. The opportunity had passed time and time again, and now it simply felt too late—that year, your gift, was a secret now for you to keep forever.

That was, until you were forced to show your ancient magic once more, years after you'd vowed to never again. A man had broken into your home and laid in wait, wand in hand and ready to kill—you'd walked inside hand in hand with Garreth and a killing curse had narrowly missed your head. You thought it had hit Garreth, the way he crumpled to the floor behind you, and you responded the only way you knew how—with a burst of lightning from your wand that vaporised the intruder upon impact.

As it turned out, Garreth had only been knocked unconscious from a fallen shelf. He was groggy, but alive, and you'd wept and wept in his arms as he asked questions you couldn't answer. What had happened? Where did he go? Was he dead? You shook your head through it all until finally meeting his eyes, the pang of guilt in your chest almost robbing you of breath.

It had taken you a full week to work up the courage to tell him the truth after that incident.

"I have something to tell you."

He'd looked terrified, until you'd started to talk and understanding dawned on his face. You should have known he'd be understanding and take it in his stride—you'd known him so many years and shared so much, how had you ever doubted him?

"I knew there must have been something different about you. Not that I'm doubting your duelling prowess, mind you...but why didn't you tell me?" he asked as he held you in his arms.

"I thought you'd leave if you found out what I can do. I realise how stupid that was now. You've always been here for me, Gar."

"About that...I have something to share, too."

Your heart hammered in your chest as his arms left you, shuffling around in the bed to face you with a nervous smile.

"What...?"

"Will you marry me?" he blurted out, pulling a worn velvet box from his bedside table.

"Garreth!"

"What, you didn't think you'd get rid of me that easily did you?" he chuckled. "Sorry it's not new, it's a family heirloom...my mum..."

"It's beautiful, Gar," you said earnestly as he slipped the gold band on your finger.

Garreth kissed you deeply, clutching your waist as if you were likely to bolt out the door. His warmth enveloped you as you lost yourself in his lips, already mentally planning your wedding, along with the wedding night.

"So, is that all you wanted to share?"

"That's it. You know everything about me now," you smiled.

"I doubt that, but I look forward to finding out."

#weasley wednesday #garreth weasley

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serafimkrex · 1 year

Text

自業自得

About: You approach Gyutaro, before Daki is born. You share your rice with him!!! :) this is child/teen Gyutaro… 😊 but then Gyutaro gets silly 😭

Warnings: child abuse and kidnapping I swear I’m normal

You were just a kid yourself, you were poor, just like him. Did your mum have the decency to feed you…? Yeah, she did. Everything she did; she did it for you. Even if she fell prone to drinking and would end up hitting you. But… at least she didn’t sell you to be a courtesan. She says she’d miss you too much.

Thats besides the point. You were eating rice as you walked along the red light district, or rather the slumps where all the people who were poor lived..

Carefully, but hungrily chewing on your rice. Your mom hadn’t been able to afford food for a while, at least not food for you. She got too happy with the money she made and spent it on a new kimono for herself and a gem or two. you were just happy to be eating honestly, and your mom promised to get you a new kimono too, so what’s the harm?

As you continued to walk by, you saw kids eating leftovers, and playing with leaves they tied together into dolls.

You smiled and waved at the kids you knew, promising to play with them the next day— and then you stumbled upon him. You didn’t know his name, but most people knew him. The smelly, rotten, diseased and cursed child. You tried to approach him once before, but then he pushed you away and yelled, said he didn’t like your teasing.

But… you still felt bad for him. He was just a kid like you; you were fortunate to have your mom feed you… and according to rumors his mom didn’t.

With a huff, you sat down next to him, handing him some of your rice… okay let’s be honest… most of your rice.

at first, he thought you were teasing him, hiding him face, and muttering at you to go away.

“What? No, I want to feed you, eat the rice.” You say in response, sitting on your knees and moving his hand away from his face, and inching the rice closer to him.

He looked so confused… and scared, in all honesty. Like a cat, but eventually he took the rice, eating it. You ate it with him, and then he asked for your name.

“Y/N, my name is Y/N.” You smile at him, and you see him stumble over his next words, surprised that you gave him your first name, rather than your last name. “My name is Gyutaro.” Gyutaro says. “Why did you help me?” He asks, rice stuck to his teeth and between his teeth. “Why shouldn’t I? We all live in the slumps, we have to help each other out!” You reply, happily. “I like the black on your face,” you say, innocently not knowing the effect it would end up having on him. “I dunno why, but they look nice.” You smile - he doesn’t respond. Though you see a blush climbing up on his face.

years later, and you’ve slowly made it a habit to share your food with Gyutaro, at least until your mom made more money and you moved to a nicer area in the Red Light District.

Gyutaro promised himself to find you, promised himself to take you. He didn’t know why, but for you to be the only person to be nice to him— other than what would later become his sister. He would have to take you. He felt the need to protect you, and one day when he was at work (debt collecting) he saw a person flirt with you…

…he didn’t hesitate to follow them home and permanently blind them. He would’ve done more, if it weren’t time to go home to Ume.

He couldn’t help but watch you, wondering if you still remembered him. The day before Ume was killed, you approached him.

“Gyutaro?” You called out, with a small smile that would soon grow to cover your whole face. Fuck you were lucky. So fucking lucky that your mom loved you, made money, bought you nice things… you looked so clean. Clear face and skin, your hair, fuck. He wanted to take again… but it was you. So he would be sweet and nice to you, like how he was with Ume.

“Yes?” He replied back, croaky voice sending shivers through his spine, his, not yours. He wonders if he was handsome you’d date him…?

“you look nice, I heard your sister started working as a courtesan, I walked into her the other day… we didn’t talk but she was really pretty.” You smile completely now, looking at him. “I bet she’s a good girl.”

God, you almost compare to his sisters beauty… almost. Almost, almost, almost. He doesn’t know why he likes you so much, why you cloud his thoughts. But he has such fond memories of when he warmed up to you as a kid, when you fed him and played with him, his only friend. He wants to have you, he hopes your mom won’t marry you off, cause then he’ll have to make a mess.

You chuckle as he just stares at you, an obvious blush across his face as he thinks over his next words. But they never come out. So you talk instead. “Let’s get dinner sometime! I’ll cook for you.” He nods, fuck that sounds nice. He watches you walk away, umbrella in hand to protect your sweet face from the heat of the sun.

When Ume dies, he doesn’t have that dinner with you, but when he becomes a demon he realizes he just might. He forcefully takes you, and he feels a little bad about it… you treated him with such kindness. But you’ll learn to forgive him when he takes you, you were so sweet and nice to him the first time, didn’t care that he was ugly, didn’t care that he was diseased. And now he’s even more disfigured, you don’t look at him with disgust, only fear. He loves it. please say you’ll forgive him— it’s been so long, and Daki keeps complaining about you. One day you cry, cry so pretty he has no choice but to say you’re prettier than his sister. And fuck, he believes that now. He wants to smell you, but he won’t. You’re still crying, and it kinda reminds him of how whiny Daki is. ”Hey, ‘s’okay, ‘s’okay… I brought you mochi, eat it, please?” He whispers, trying to soothe you. If you keep misbehaving he may just eat ya. No,no,no, he can’t. You’re too precious to him.

“why do you want her anyway? There’s plenty of cute people in Yoshiwara… they’re not even a courtesan, not trained at all!” Daki says, to which he just forcefully takes you in his lap. “this one’s special.” He says, as you shake in his arms, squirm… like them bugs he used to eat.

#Tw #Gyutaro x reader #gyutaro shabana #x gender neutral reader #Tbh I wouldn’t want Gyutaro to take me forcefully id want to meet him at the fight with Tanjiro and be like “omg hey are u single?” As #As he’s trying to kill me #He’s like stab stab stab #stabby stab #and im like 💋💋💋

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stuckonmain · 2 years

Text

The Junkyard at the End of the World

ROTTMNT Donatello x Yokai!reader

This takes place in the bad timeline, a bit after the Krang invasion. There's mentions of death and very light angst.

Could be read as platonic or romantic I guess, and the reader's gender isn't mentioned. (Also I projected a bit too hard on the OC that plays (Y/N) in my head, because now (Y/N) is kinda good at building- an amature engineer if you will)

3k words, rivals to friends. Onto the fic!

Edit: This is now a series. Part two, part three, part four, part five.

****

“You know, I thought the world would end slowly over generations upon generations. But aliens? Really? What is this, one of your sci-fi films?”

I scoffed, taking a sip of soda. The acrid scent of burning buildings floated past me, killing the taste of my drink, and the photo of Mum and Pa stared back, unanswering.

I shook my head, smiling lightly. “You guys are lucky, you know that?” I sighed, rubbing the frame.

“Hey (Y/N)? You should come inside, we’re divvying up the scouting parties and I doubt you wanna end up with Dale any more than I do.” Said April’s familiar voice as she rapped gently on the doorframe.

“Hm?” I said, looking over my shoulder. “Yeah, no. Okay, I’m coming O’Neil.” I smiled, hopping off of the balcony railing.

Once inside, I was met with the far too familiar sounds of people. Yelling, talking, fighting, crying…I felt a shiver run down my spine at the sheer excess. There were so, so many people.

It was by sheer luck that I’d managed to get my own room in the shelter. Mind you, it was barely a room, with only about 6x4 feet of space, and my bed took up almost all of it, but hey, it was mine even if it was small and hard to live in. At least I wasn’t in one of the shared bed spaces, as selfish as it admittedly felt.

Anyways.

I followed April down the hall towards the main Office. It had been used for secretaries and headmasters at the old college campus once upon a time, but nowadays we used it for conferences and planning amongst the commanders…those commanders just being April, an old mutant named Splinter, his mutant sons, and me, the resident Yokai representative. And I’d only gotten the position because I was the one who found the empty campus and used my mom’s magic to protect it as best as I could…I was rubbish at any actual quote unquote ‘representative’ stuff.

I couldn’t actually speak for the Yokai, I was only really just a quarter Yokai. It didn’t seem like my place. But I was clearly inhuman,what with the horns and scales and claws and all, so…I got the position.

Ugh. Classic (Y/N) overthinking, I don’t have time for this.

I entered the office with my head held high as if I hadn’t just been questioning my own authority for the millionth time today, and sat across from Michelangelo, the youngest mutant.

“So. Scouting parties, I hear?” I said blandly, paging through my notebook in hopes of looking busy.

“Oh, look who finally showed up. We’re so glad to see you! He said without a hint of sarcasm.” Scowled the purple one, crossing his arms. “We’ve been waiting for you to start!”

He’d had something out for me since he moved in, so it was no surprise that we were fighting again. It had really taken off back when I shared a few art pieces a few months ago, only for him to have some sarcastic comment for literally everything…

I scoffed, not in the mood to take it. “Well that’s pretty dumb of you, ‘Tello. You’re a big boy, do it yourself, why don’tcha?”

“Oh gee, I don’t know, maybe because it’s your responsibility, (L/N)!”

I rolled my eyes. “Since when? Look, just because I haven’t let you have your own lab doesn’t mean you need to go out of your way to antagonize me, Purple-boy.”

“This is not about that!” He snapped, slamming his hands down onto the table.

“This is not about that!” I mimicked in a nasally voice, getting a snicker out of his brother Leonardo. I smirked.

“It’s a matter of principle.” Donatello scowled, shaking his head tiredly. “Lovely banter aside, we’re low on food, and more importantly, I’m low on scrap metal!”

Mikey nodded. “The crops in the campus garden aren’t gonna be ready till fall, which is like, three months from now.”

Leo frowned. “So…two parties for the grocery stores in Manhattan, one for New Jersey (which I will not be a part of), and….one for Brooklyn. And I guess a small one for Donnie.”

“Cool cool.” I nodded, crossing my arms.

“I’ll take New Jersey.” Said April, raising her hand.

“And I’ll lead the Brooklyn party,” Raph volunteered.

“Cool. Mikey and I will take Manhattan, and Donnie and (Y/N) will get spare parts at the junkyard.” Leo decided.

I jolted up, half aware of Purple doing the same. “What?! But…sir, no offense intended, but good lord are you thick in the head? Have you seen how we get along?!” I exclaimed.

Donatello nodded. “For once, I concur! No, I’m going by myself, not with…that!”

“Yeah, what he said!” I snapped, feeling my claws sting the fleshy parts of my hands as I clenched them into fists.

“See? You’re getting along great already!” Leo grinned.

“Pfft.” I scoffed.

“Scoff.” Said Donnie.

“Oh my god, more proof!” He teased, before growing more serious. “Look guys, you’re the only two here who know anything about tools and construction. You know full well that it isn’t safe to go alone places and it’s even less safe to go in a big group…so please just try to work together, ‘kay?” He finished with a sigh, something…tired behind his eyes.

I softened as I looked at Leo, sympathy prickling at me. He was clearly trying to lead well, and was under a lot of pressure…

I sighed, relaxing my hands. “Fine, Leonardo. I’ll go. But for the record, I know very little about construction- I just draw blueprints sometimes.”

“Which is more than anyone else does!” He said, grinning again. “Thanks (Y/N). See Donnie? Someone is cooperating!”

Donatello rolled his eyes. “Fine, dear brother, clearly this isn’t a fight I can win. But don’t get mad when you have to eateth thy words.”

“Actually the correct old English term would be ‘eateth thine words’, I think. I could be wrong though.” I said blithely.

“Great!” He hissed, squeezing his tech-bo dangerously.

“No problem-o, Donatello,” I smirked, sticking out my tongue.

“Did you seriously just rhyme?” He said, sounding disgusted.

I simply gave him finger guns in response.

***

“So. What sort of scrap metal are we lookin’ for?” I asked, claws raised as we descended into the junkyard. Purple trudged a few feet ahead of me- even in the midst of the apocalypse he wanted to act like he didn’t know me.

“Ideally titanium. More likely though, steel.” He replied coldly.

“‘Aight.” I said, reaching into my satchel for my multi-tool. “I’m gonna try to scavenge some screws and bolts while we’re out here.”

He didn’t reply. Typical.

I scoffed. “Talkative, aren’t we.” I muttered, though it came out louder than I meant it to.

“What.” He said, more like a statement than a question. “What do you want right now?! I’m tired, so forgive me, but I don’t care.”

I rolled my eyes. “Jeez man. Chill. I’m just…bored, I guess.”

“Well spare me the quote unquote ‘deetz’.” He said, doing finger quotes.

I shrugged, messing with my multi-tool.

I was too drained to care much about the turtle nowadays, but his disdain for me used to upset me back when they first moved in. Maybe I teased him too much, maybe I was late to meetings often- it wasn’t like he was doing much better. Maybe it was because I turned down his offers to help me with my projects back then, maybe it was because my least favorite color was purple…There were too many variables, and I didn’t care to speculate anymore, not like I used to.

Sometimes people just don’t like you, even when you’re a hot-as-hell Chinese-dragon-person with only mild personality flaws. I thought, chuckling to myself.

I stared out at the horizon as I went to work unscrewing bolts from doors and cars and air conditioners…

I thought that our world would end in fire, swallowed up by the supernova that our sun was fated to become.

But aliens. Really. This was stupid. I sighed, adding another handful of scavenged screws to my bag.

My parents would have loved it, ever the sci-fi fans. …Although, they would have probably not loved the sight of their child working for hours in New York summer heat in order to just barely keep humanity alive. For now, the Yokai were safe at least…in fact, why was I helping the humans?

It wasn’t like I had anything to gain from it…

Well…yes. Yes I did. Like it or not, I was like them, I was 75% human. They were still my species, and I couldn’t just let them go extinct on good conscience.

I heard panting behind me as Donatello dragged a piece of a car door towards his pile of scrap. I checked the time- we’d been out here for an hour and a half.

Well…time to go on break, I decided, and pulled an instant boba tea packet out of my bag.

“Hey Purple, d’you want a snack or something? We’ve been out here for a while.” I called, looking over at him.

He raised an eyebrow and came over to me. “...What?”

“I said, do you want a snack. I have extras in case of an emergency.” I shrugged, and he walked closer.

“Uh…sure. What do you have?”

“Instant bubble tea, knock-off goldfish from the Trader Joe’s we broke into a while back, sourdough bread, and walnuts for protein.”

“Oh. How…luxurious.” He said, clearly unimpressed. But he sat next to me anyway, and ripped open the walnuts.

“So. Have you found any titanium?” I asked, for once too tired to tease him.

“No, unsurprisingly. Well, I found some scissors made of it, but there isn’t nearly enough for what I have in my blueprints. How…how about you?” He answered a little awkwardly.

“I found a whole bunch of screws, baby!” I smiled, pumping my fist. “Sorry about your lack of luck though, Purple.”

“Don’t call me that.” He said. “That’s what my dad calls us.”

“...Oh. Sorry. I’ll quit it.” I nodded, taking a sip of bubble tea.

“How are you drinking that without ice? That’s absolutely monstrous.” He said, staring at me.

I snorted. “It’s the apocalypse, Donatello. I don’t have the resources for ice- my powers only consist of summoning and controlling water, not freezing it.”

He did a double take. “Wait wait wait, you have powers?”

“Uh…yeah. Why d’you think I’m always at those meetings? I’m the one who supplies the campus water. Thought y’knew that.”

“Oh. I thought you were just the one in charge of filtering the water from the rivers.”

I scoffed. “I’m a Yokai, of course I have powers of some kind…”

“You’re only half. It seemed logical that you wouldn’t.” He shook his head.

“Hm, I’m actually only a quarter. My mom was half, and she was way more powerful…if it weren’t for her collection of mystic scrolls and spells, our lair would be Krang food by now.” (I smiled at the memory of being a kid, digging through her boxes of scrolls…they were always stored by the DVDs and VHSes, which I would also spend hours combing through.)

“I hear a past tense there. Did the Krang get her?” Donatello said, shockingly blunt.

I shook my head. “Nah. She was also half human- she died of cancer three years ago, two and a half years before all…this.” I said, waving out at the empty city beyond the landfill. “My dad died a few years before her in a car accident.”

“Oh.” Donnie said quietly. “Uh…that’s…unfortunate.”

I shrugged. “Yeah well, it’s the past, who cares?” I paused, dropping the flippant tone. “Um…but thank you for listening and not making a big deal of it, and sorry for bringing down the mood.”

He nodded, eyebrows raised in what might have been sympathy.

After a second, he broke the silence. “Um…segue, but do you have any more of those tea packets? I have an ice maker, so I can actually enjoy it unlike some people.”

I grinned, tossing him the instant boba. “Sure. They’re apoca-licious!”

“That’s awful. No wonder Leo likes you (L/N), you’re as bad as he is.”

“Thanks!” I chuckled, digging my sketchbook out of my bag while he fiddled with his tech in silence.

I blew dust off of the blueprints for the lamp I was building, and got to work right where I left off. It was mostly cosmetic stuff, but I was going for full-on steampunk customizations with glowing blue lights at the base as well as gears that could spin- manually, of course, but still.

There was a sound of slurping behind me, and I was made aware of Donatello shamelessly reading over my shoulder.

“You know, if you add a motor….there, you’ll be able to make the gears spin automatically.” He said, tapping the base of the sketch.

“Oh, yeah?” I said, smiling ruefully. “I…don’t actually have any. I’m afraid I don’t know practically anything beyond basic circuitry and stuff. I’m an artist, not an engineer.”

He grinned. “Still! That’s still a lot more than anyone else in our circle- can I help with this?!”

I smiled, slightly taken aback by his sudden enthusiasm, but pleased. “I’d love that!”

“Cool cool cool! This is gonna be fun, this is a cool design. Low tech, obviously, but for someone who is primarily just a visual artist, it’s kind of impressive!” He exclaimed.

“Woah, is that the first nice thing you’ve ever said to me?” I teased.

“What? What about all the nice things I say when you share your art?” He said, narrowing his eyes.

“Those were clearly sarcasm, you ain’t slick.” I grinned, but his eyes stayed irritated.

�� I sighed, coughing a bit to clear my throat. “Look….I guess I was just wondering why you hate me so much.” I said, not meeting his eyes.

He looked up, raising a drawn-on eyebrow. “I don’t though? I’m actually relatively neutral towards you?”

“Uh….no? You’re always like, hostile when I’m there. Leo even specifically paired us together because he clearly wanted us to start getting along.” I frowned.

“What? No, I was clearly joking?” He said indignantly. “Leo paired us together because you’re good at building things, even if you’re not great at software.” He added the last part under his breath.

“Wait wait wait! So all those compliments from back when we first met…weren’t sarcastic?” I said, eyes wide.

“Of course not! I literally always clarify ‘he said with no sarcasm whatsoever’!” Donnie exclaimed.

“Dude, that just makes you sound more sarcastic!” I laughed, flicking his shoulder lightly. “So this whole time you haven’t had an issue with me?!”

“Well not till you started being a dum-dum for seemingly no reason.” He scoffed.

“...And that would be because I thought you had a problem with me.” I finished, leaning back on the pile of scrap metal. “...This is pretty stupid, huh?”

“...Yeah.” He nodded, offering a half-hearted smile. “It’s actually…nice, weirdly. To know that the only other person at the campus who knows their way around tech doesn’t hate me…and on a more er…personal level…” He looked at the ground. “It’snicetoknowthatyoudon’thateme.”

I smiled.

He coughed. “Oh, that was hard to say out loud.”

“Hm? Oh, aw, shoot, I missed that.” I smirked.

“Scoff. No you didn’t, you’re smiling, you know full well what I said and I’ll never say it again.” He said, crossing his arms.

I grinned. “Well…I’m glad that you don’t hate me too, ‘Tello. Here, let’s start this over again…Uh, hi. I’m (Y/N) (L/N)-”

“What? But I already know you?” Donnie frowned.

I shook my head. “It’s a metaphor.” I said dryly.

“Oh. Cool, clarification. Yaaay.” He said weakly, giving me a thumbs up. “Er, continue.”

“Cool cool. I’m (Y/N) (L/N), brilliant artist, draw-er of blueprints, occasional builder of mechanics, and the base’s resident provider of water. And you are?”

He nodded, starting awkwardly but growing more confident as he went on. “Uh…Hi, hello. I’m Donatello Hamato, sometimes known as Othello Von Ryan, sometimes known as Purple, and you can call me Donnie. I’m a creator of brilliant tech, father to a ridiculous-yet-incredible robot named SHELLDON, and an occasional misser-of-metaphors.

Nice to meet you, (Y/N)....He said without a single semblance of sarcasm.” He narrated. “Sorry, couldn’t resist.” He chuckled.

“Nice to meet ya, Donnie. I’ve got a feeling that we’re gonna create some brilliant things together.” I smiled, holding out my clawed hand.

He smiled back, shaking it with a metal arm that extended from his battle shell. “I think your hypothesis has some merit.”

“Rad.” I grinned, giving the metal arm a fist bump.

“I concur- we gonna be rad.”

***

Author's note:

Uh 'sup! This is my first ROTTMNT fic. It's a definite deviation from my usual stuff, but uh...I kinda wanna make more! It's fun writing for new characters, even if I'm still trying to properly work out the characterizations lol

Lemme know if you have any requests, 'cause this was fun :)

Part 2>

#rottmnt x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader #donatello hamato #rottmnt donnie #rise of the tmnt #rise of the tmnt x reader #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #donatello #donatello x reader #donnie x reader #rise donnie #rise donnie x reader #the junkyard at the end of the world

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lapinpuff · 10 months

Text

☆My Full DHMIS Interpretation!☆

Hi guys!! Recently I re-watched the DHMIS show with my mum, a fellow fan. It made me remember that, last year, I was totally obsessed with theorising despite the very possible futility of all this, haha. I was always nervous about sharing this before, but I've had almost three years to let my interpretations of this wacky, wonderful show bake in the oven of my heart. I think I'm ready to decorate and share it here at last (✿◡‿◡)

(Disclaimer: This is all just my interpretation! Nothing here is confirmed or denied officially. Whatever you believe is just as awesome! :D)

Alrighty, here we go!

The basis for my entire interpretation is one core idea: Lesley is using the world of DHMIS, which I’ll be calling the felt world hereafter, as a very unhelpful coping mechanism. I do not see her character as actively malicious; the felt world is simply born from her mind and influenced by both her desires and subconscious. Her trauma and grief is thus continuously spilling into and corrupting the felt world against her will, causing its oddness and comedically overkill levels of gore that we all know and love. But why is Lesley’s mind so darkened?

To start with the basics, Lesley was likely, once upon a time, just a human woman with a son called David. This is a pretty unanimous starting point amongst theorists and I see why! Lesley herself is the only (ambiguously) fully human-like character to exist in the felt world. If she’s not human, she’s at the very least live-action. Ergo, she's significant. She mentions a son, and her anger or pain in this moment certainly suggests grief to me. I have almost no doubt that Yellow Guy represents her son. The D on his overalls for David, the gravestone bearing this name, his car-crash dream, Lesley's fondness for him which perhaps we can connect to the fact he has never truly died on-screen in the manner of Duck and Red...

Judging from the Mulhoven dream, I believe that Yellow's human equivalent was a young adult moving to the village. To me, Mulhoven must have been the actual name of the place, since it’s just too…realistic and not funny or dark or a pun. It sounds like a real place you’d find here in England. I believe David moved sometime after university. I say this age-wise because Lesley seems frozen at one age (she’d have died of old age otherwise, with how time passes in the series), and if this is around the age she was when David died, then her age makes sense if he was 25-ish. Also, Charged Yellow Guy very much reads as an adult to me, and seems to know a lot about both academic and distinctly mature domestic topics such as insurance. Uncharged Yellow, then, represents a younger, child version of David. I'd say Lesley willingly keeps him uncharged because this way she can pretend he's still her helpless child.

So David was moving to Mulhoven, and possibly Lesley was worried or reluctant to see him go, as most mothers would be. The idealistic, 60s era kind of dream YG has suggests that David had a very positive view of the village, and also that he had grown up around the 60s-80s; his childhood shows spill into his reborn puppet self's dreams. Despite David’s enthusiasm, Lesley worried, and unfortunately her fears came true when David was hit by a car and likely killed when moving in. Judging by Lesley's actions, obsession with control, the sheer bloodiness of her mind state, and the fact her name is the reg plate of the Transport teacher who spends most of his screen time as a car, I believe she was visiting David (perhaps as a surprise or out of spontaneous worry, or just to help him move) and was the one who accidentally hit him.

I at first had no clue what the bird represents in YG’s dream, but now I theorise it was a pet he was chasing. A parting gift from Lesley, maybe? I think David must have had a fondness for birds, leading to Lesley making Duck just for him in the felt world. Duck is also his fave colour (green!) and Yellow Guy seems awfully attached to him, as if it were meant to be. At the start of the felt world, Lesley probably did intend for Duck and Red Guy to serve as Yellow's best friends...maybe the aforementioned trauma looming over her mind's creation has even infected them, breaking apart her intended dynamic and encouraging the two to mistreat YG. If Duck represents that runaway bird, the one thing Lesley could truly use as a scapegoat for David's death, then of course she hates him. Of course she torments him, subconsciously or consciously, throughout the series. Some part of her sees it as a sort of revenge.

There's also the idea that this is why Duck is inherently a bit of a jerk in the TV show...maybe he was never meant to be a best friend. Maybe Lesley actually put him in there to be a punching bag, meant to be hated and tortured, meant to relinquish her self-believed guilt. She might not have expected YG to like him; seems like Duck is almost predisposed to cruelty towards Yellow, after all. When he did like Duck, Lesley kept him around. This is an interesting idea but I think I like the former more; Duck is just modelled after something David loved and Lesley hates.

Anyway, all of this is why I think Duck’s head is pasted over the pet in the dream. Red is probably the neighbour in the dream either due to actually being a stand-in for one of David’s neighbours or because, well, when you spend every waking second of your puppet life with someone, their face is probably going to slip into your dreams!

(Note: I saw a theory that "don't hug me, I'm scared" could have been David's last words as he bled out and Lesley tried to hold him but couldn't. And, like, that's so insanely, horrifically sad that I can't NOT include it here?! It makes a lot of sense too! Lesley's grief is so overwhelming that it even determines the title of her coping mechanism styled after a show. She cannot escape it, even in the title of her fantasy world. Gosh...)

Now, what happened after David’s death?

Well, I don't like to think the show is just a metaphor...rather a physical thing with metaphorical elements? I think the human world preceding the felt world (so, their version of plain old reality) is not quite our human world, so I'm ignoring logic here. I believe that the people in the attic room above Lesley’s room are responsible, judging from their framed significance and how Lesley talks about them with a hint of fear in cut storyboard lines.

There’s a good chance these things initially reached out to Lesley as she grieved and made a sort of deal with her: she could play out her fantasies in a world made directly from/influenced by her brain and her wishes, so long as she gave her entire life for it. Lesley agreed, of course, and became what she is in the show. The process of becoming the puppetmaster of such a world has, in a sense, immortalised Lesley, preventing her from ageing and keeping her in a human-puppet hybrid body (hence her stitches and exposed stuffing…perhaps she’s been neglecting self-care) so she can play forever. Be with her new son forever. I also think the stitches and stuffing could be, alternatively, a sign she was injured or almost died in the same crash that killed her son. Why did the higher-up beings do this for Lesley, then? Give her all she wanted and potentially bring her back to life?

It’s a good question. Perhaps the higher-ups, whatever they are, are just looking for amusement. Maybe we can go comedically surreal and they're demonic types or monsters stealing her soul or whatever, haha. Realistically, I think that if they're ever revealed, they'll be the actual show creators from our real world...bit of meta and all that! The aforementioned storyboards really do imply that Lesley is afraid of them to an extent...so it's her world, yes, but even she is just "dancing in chains", trapped forever as the puppets are trapped. This explains her emotional instability too—really, it's a total miracle she's not WAY worse after being trapped in an attic playing with dead-son dolls for decades or even longer. Gosh.

Onto the webseries, yay! Now, I could just dismiss this whole thing and say it's a separate universe from the TV show, and that the TV series just uses the same characters in a different way. Sure. It is plausible. But between the references the TV show makes to the webseries and the fact that the DHMIS writers are actual geniuses and I love them, I think there must be a connection. Somehow. And I think the webseries is, in a sense, an earlier version of Lesley's playground. A version where the series had to be filmed to be broadcast to the higher-ups (see Creativity, and Computers’ ending with the filming sets), until Lesley later made a world where these higher-ups, whatever they are, could simply live in the house above the rest of the puppets and her, able to observe or control it all easily.

I also suppose the cameras could be Lesley’s way of watching over the lot of them even while she’s not there to keep a direct eye on things…!

So why isn’t Lesley in the webseries? Even if the true answer is just “her character wasn’t implemented until the TV series”, I still think this could work into my interpretation. For example, in the early days just after she had become the puppetmaster (so to speak), Lesley likely needed to experiment just as all writers and creators do. To me, the webseries represents a sort of early draft, one of the many, many versions of the show created by Lesley to test out the characters, their dynamics, et cetera. That’s why everything is so different in the TV show, when Lesley has more of a final product. The stories are longer, the house is more of a house, the characters are less (lovably!) one-note, and even little details like their voices and designs have shifted.

Perhaps Lesley had multiple versions of her test/early worlds running at once and couldn't possibly man them all with her singular brain–so she created Roy.

I think Roy is one of two things: he could be a slapped-together, makeshift dad character for YG to replace Lesley (explaining his very odd behaviour and appearance if he was a rush-job), meant to serve as the guardian of the webseries world. Or he could be a mean-spirited caricature of Lesley's (ex?)husband, again explaining his gross behaviour and comically sloppy appearance if she wasn't too fond of him. Either way, she left him in charge of one of her early/test felt worlds, abandoned it so she could test out some more, and expected this to go well. It, of course, didn't, because Roy was born purely from herself—her grief, pain and hatred. He's literally concentrated malice. This made him a HORRIBLE puppetmaster, and he completely wrecked the webseries world, turning it quickly into a cycle of torture and gore.

Worst of all in Lesley’s eyes, I’m sure, Roy even seems to hate Yellow. He punishes him for absolutely nothing, and does so endlessly. Is this how Lesley saw her husband, as a monster who mistreated their son, or is this just the result of her disturbed mind? Her own repressed hatred of Yellow? Not that she actually hates him, of course not, but I think everyone can think of something they hate even about the people they love the most. It never bothers us enough to counteract the goodness. Imagine, then, if that tiny feeling—that worm of hate—was enhanced and distorted and bloated in the form of a cruel new body, made purely from your negative emotions.

The fact this was an early draft sort of world also explains the puppet trio having less nuanced personalities and acting more like puppet-show archetypes. The silly kind main character, the eccentric smarty-pants (Stingy from LazyTown anyone? lol) and the cool sarcastic big-brother type. They didn't even seem to have much if any malice towards one another in those days. In fact, they seemed to get along remarkably well considering the circumstances. Duck, the biggest bastard from the TV series, is a total silly sweetheart in the webseries! The worst he does is gently yell at Yellow once. They were all so different back then. Whether Lesley rewrote their personalities for more depth by the time of the TV show, or her trauma again infected them all and deteriorated Red's initial aloof, unshakable confidence and Duck's former kindness and optimism…that’s another question, and either option fascinates me!

Now what about the realistic world filled with Red Guys? My explanation isn’t as deep as some out there, I’m afraid. I simply believe this is another fake layer of Roy’s felt world, meant to trick Red into thinking that was all there was out there beyond the house–Roy added it in simply to keep him in line if he ever escaped. Red got out quite unexpectedly, it appears, so perhaps Roy had to throw together the Red Guy world in a rush by copy-pasting Red’s uninterested and near emotionless default form a few dozen times. Our Red, who has had a fair bit of character development in the webseries, is by that point too enthusiastic for anything resembling his former selves. Roy may have known this and could have been trying to coax Red into returning to the felt world–that, or the Red world served as a bland punishment for escaping at all.

I think the dumpster from the TV series’ Transport is similar–a sort of safety net layer to the felt world, there to break the rebellious psyche of the puppets every time they try to get out or disobey. By convincing them that there’s nothing but darkness and boredom outside of the felt world, they are conditioned to accept their felt world; note how Red is suddenly okay with his surroundings after Transport.

Either that or they actually did escape successfully in Transport, but coincidentally ended up in a rubbish tip in the real world and, due to their forced naivete, assumed the entire world was like that. Before they could even explore and realise this wasn’t the case, Lesley took them home. It’s a remarkably sad thought…still, I do believe this was just another layer of Lesley’s fake world, especially since she was able to seemingly drag them all back into the felt world so easily. In this case, the protests of the teachers and the satnav could be read as either genuine (maybe Lesley panicked–does she lose control over the trio the further they get away?), a warning, or another level of manipulation. Either way, Lesley gets her puppets home, spirits were successfully broken. Unless, as others have suggested, Lesley left that lot to rot in the fake real world and replaced them with copies. I personally don’t believe so, but again, perfectly on-brand nightmare fuel!

Back to the RG world, this is why Red was so easily able to clip back into the felt world when he wanted to. The second he openly misses his friends and their life, bam, he’s in the felt world (or the transitional space between them!). It seems it was always waiting for him to give up on his dreams and return to it. That’s also, presumably, how he could contact the other two via their phone–their worlds were just a skin away from one another. This is similar to how, in the TV series, Lesley shoots down their individual hopes of having a family outside of the trio with even more illusions/fake worlds (the RG photoshoot could be a recycled RG world), and completely shatters their hope in Transport, even if this was not all intentional. It’s all her subconscious working hard to keep everything in check…

Thinking about it, Roy seems, in this webseries, to have inherited mainly Lesley’s dark side and her obsession with control (which we can assume has loosened slightly by the TV show—maybe she thinks it’s more interesting if they have slightly heightened free will?), which explains his actions quite clearly. It explains why the teachers he sends are so cruel and quick to shut down anything that goes against them, for one. Whilst Lesley in the TV series only has loose control over the characters, likely because she likes it this way by that point, Roy is utterly hellbent on control, control, control. He literally has a control panel to summon the teachers and even Duck, suggesting he had Duck backups but simply didn’t want to use them since Duck was causing him trouble. Going with the second layer of meaning, this feeds the extended metaphor of art: a lot of creators will put too much emphasis on control and perfection before realising that, sometimes, you have to let things breathe in order to see them flourish; I think this is the lesson Lesley has learnt by the time of the TV series.

Roy, however, was unable to learn; he was a thoughtless vessel for misery. Perhaps he realised that he had screwed up the world he was in charge of. Perhaps Lesley at last watched the footage or checked in and was furious. Roy had, after all, put Yellow, Lesley’s favourite, in harm’s way again and again without mercy. I believe this situation, of being guilty or found out, is why Roy encouraged Red to pull the plug on their world and end the entire thing in what I can only compare to suicide. Hence the webseries’s ending—the trio we know has died, and the new world is just another one of Lesley’s created worlds for testing. She’s just switching up the designs this time, possibly as an apology for Roy’s behaviour—Lesley could be testing out a softer version of her world to see how it’ll go, unaware that her subconscious will make it all bleed and cry again, inevitably. Unfortunately, by the time of the TV series, Lesley has both perfected her formula and made it harsher. No more favourite coloured flesh for you guys!!!

On this topic, what exactly is that void with the control panel? It seems to show up again in Electricity, full of corpses and unused teachers, like some dump. I interpret this as a sort of beta/testing ground which connects every single felt world and loop Lesley has created. There’s a version of Duck dead on the floor and a television playing a seemingly happier version of him, likely both left over from other loops or test worlds.

There’s also some webseries teachers, abandoned and possibly waiting to be repurposed as kinder versions, as Lesley has already clearly done with the lamp, Colin and Tony. The meat guy seems to still be off his head and potentially dangerous, so we can assume he hasn’t been rewritten yet. It does seem like Lesley is actively making an effort to have nicer, safer teachers now. Well, at least kinder to Yellow.

The briefcase doesn’t directly hurt ANYONE unless you count the coin (and this is very likely allowed by Lesley because she seemingly hates Duck anyway lol), the coffin tries to get rid of Duck which Lesley probably sees as a kindness, then the lamp is a little odd but calm and sweet, and he at least attempts to be comforting…

The train is also harmless and probably one of Lesley’s earliest creations pulled out for the unscheduled, emergency lesson, judging by his age, condition and the fact that transport is like a comedically common theme for kids’ show episodes. If Time Child is a Lesley creation then he probably would have genuinely let the puppets have fun too. Then at last, Electracey is the most obviously kind of the whole lot–she’s downright adorable in her sweetness, and when she hurts Yellow it is quite obviously without any intent to harm.

The only teachers we can’t pinpoint as Lesley’s creations are the twins and Warren due to their designs and particularly odd behaviour. This may explain why they are the most actively malicious; they could be things Lesley accidentally created, due to her mind forcing dark, dangerous things into the felt world as a result of her emotional and mental state. As we see the twins in the dream sequence of Transport, it’s highly possible that they were Lesley and David’s actual relatives and the puppet versions are how Lesley’s mind remembers them or distorts them through her grief and slipping sanity. As for Warren…erm, no clue. He feels like he just wandered on set. My only guess is that he’s some side character gone rogue but Lesley found the scenario interesting enough to keep, haha!

So returning to the void…this explains the arts and crafts mess going on there. Lesley’s mind is processing the props she has and making new things too, ready to drop them into the world when needed. This is also why the intro scene fridge is the star of the famous fridge scene, rather than the kitchen fridge—this void is where Lesley keeps the parts needed for the intro sequence, ready to pop them out whenever a new “episode” starts. Because the void is a nothing space, a big waiting room, the characters are thrown here when the lights go out and she can’t watch them. They are likewise suddenly no longer confined to Lesley’s rules.

Note that every single scene in the entire show is either somewhat funny or somewhat disturbing. Now, the fridge scene could be read as slightly funny at a stretch, but it’s honestly just…unapologetically sweet. It is clear that this can only happen in the darkness, away from Lesley, away from the show, away from the rules. RG and Duck are literally breaking the rules of their very existence here. Plus, Electricity is almost objectively one of the most well-made DHMIS episodes. Every minute of the episode is crucial and well-spent, filled with fast-paced jokes, character exploration, huge lore reveals. Every second is timed and precious. They wouldn’t waste that precious thirty seconds on the fridge scene unless it would make the audience really laugh (it doesn’t), disturb them (it doesn’t)...or unless it was very significant. I’m sure you can guess where I lean! The emotional weight of the first fully emotional moment in the entire six episode series cannot be overstated, and it says a lot about how Lesley’s influence usually keeps the characters cruel and lonely and in pain, even though she likely doesn’t mean to do this to them. Without her, they can break down their walls so quickly.

Lesley’s influence going against her will is something we see again and again, actually. Her name is subtly slapped onto surface after object in this show, from the transport teacher’s reg to the credits of Grolton and Hovris. To me this again is suggesting the absolute influence her troubled mind is having on the felt world beyond her control, stamping her name on everything, even things which cause pain or confusion, as if to subconsciously confess to the world her shame and guilt. It’s good to note that the mention of Lesley in the Grolton credits claim she’s the script editor, which to me could be read as symbolism for her entire role in the TV series—she’s not really causing everything, more guiding and supervising and, well, editing what’s there.

Lesley just lets her teachers loose, sees where it goes, then edits the “script” that plays out in her own way through censoring and resetting if she doesn’t like the turnout. I doubt Lesley wants the trio to know about her influence, so the fact her name and even her face appear so often regardless again implies her mind is expressing her feelings of guilt and responsibility, maybe even in a cry for help…? I imagine a part of her wants to be free from the chains she and the trio are locked into together forever. I doubt she’s allowed to leave or die.

Then of course, as I’ve mentioned previously, my theory is that all the dark features of the show are unavoidable, unremovable effects of Lesley’s subconscious; her pain leaks into every aspect of her fantasy world even as she attempts to drown it out in bright colours and cheerful songs. I like to think her grasp on this has improved since the webseries, considering the very slightly less nightmarish existence the trio face now, but clearly she’s unable to get rid of this darkness. Food becomes disgusting piles of raw meat, reminding us of dead bodies. Grieving is rendered a parody—a funeral service describing David so very inaccurately, strangers mourning, offering food, offering replacements, when all Lesley wanted was David back…and “David” stays in the coffin, awake the whole episode, not unlike Yellow Guy’s existence now akin to a reanimated corpse. Everything, inherently horrible or sweet and innocent, is filtered through the same dark screen of unresolved trauma. The puppets are desensitised, and so is Lesley. How could they not be after seemingly endless loops?

Hang on. How long has this cycle been going, then? It’s one of my most burning questions. Personally, I believe the series as we have seen it takes place in the actual real-world present (2011-2022 so far) but Lesley has made it so her world, the felt world, won’t move or change. Likewise, she is immortal in this state. So she’s playing out a very weird, modern-blended version of the fifties or sixties while the world has moved on. Despite this, Lesley clearly knows about media and inventions that came out much later, so maybe she didn’t create the world until like a few decades after David died. Or, maybe, she can still see the human world…maybe even travel between it and her own.

Now, I don’t think David necessarily died in the fifties or sixties—I think this was more likely just a time in his childhood if we continue to say he was in his 20s or at a stretch early 30s when he died. This also explains why YG was like 40 then 50 in the pilot, although of course this was scrapped. Also explains why Duck is implied to be 31 in Time—that’s way too specific of a badge number to just be whatever they could grab at the last minute in Card Factory. Unless their weirdly specific ages are just another little running joke, which I’d appreciate too. Still, if we take it seriously, it adds up! Duck and Red were probably created a few years after YG in order to give him someone to talk to. Unless he’s older than them because he’s kept in a somewhat young body which Lesley counted as his age from the first loop, thus making him technically older than the other ones…

Ouch, my brain. I’m not the one to talk about this; I failed my maths GCSE.

Still, I think it makes sense! And I think this is why YG is trapped as a sort of half-adult half-child (I’m saying this an autistic girl, please don’t get mad…), and why Lesley keeps his batteries low and gross so he’ll forever be similar to a child. Also so he will never be able to figure out how to escape, if there is a way. I get the feeling that he cannot simply be replaced like Duck and seemingly Red…he’s more valuable to Lesley either way, because he’s her mind’s direct recreation of her son in puppet form. Or if you want to go the weird demon deal kind of route, YG actually contains his soul? I don’t know, hehe.

I think Lesley originally had him on full power batteries, but realised his awareness was difficult to deal with so let him run dry from then on, again exerting the small level of indirect control she allows herself over him. Under this assumption, we again can say that Charged Yellow represents adult David who moved away from Lesley and tried to make his own life before he was killed. I also believe this because he keeps the traits he has as Uncharged Yellow-–he’s sweet, caring even towards Electracey, and very curious, implying these are innate qualities. When charged, he just gains the ability to do something with this curiosity and articulate his thoughts. He really does read like a grown-up, freshly uni-educated Yellow Guy. Perhaps this level of human-inspired compassion is what prevents him from fitting in with Big and Bigger Duck/Red, who are constructs of Lesley who have been “enlightened” in the wrong ways—they have gained knowledge but lost their hearts. They can be filled with book-smarts artificially, but not with emotion or compassion; this can only be something they learn on their own outside of the spotlight, like in the fridge scene. It is not something Lesley can give them.

See, people joke about Lesley being a FluffyBird shipper and. Yes actually, that makes a lot of sense, and I’m totally serious! Though she definitely prefers YG and seems to dislike Duck to some extent, or at least neglect him, she often pairs him off with Red for the stories she gets the teachers to kickstart. This could be so she gets to observe Yellow on his own, or could be a natural consequence of her seeming fondness for isolating YG in general–the other two end up stuck together in the wake of this, so inevitably bond a little. It does seem like Lesley encourages this, fueling Duck’s subtle obsession with Red in the process—if we think darkly, perhaps this is another a way to torture Duck even more, since Red is comparatively aloof with him and seems to prefer Yellow most of the time. How sad…

Oh, and speaking of sad duck things, I think I’d be remiss not to cover Silly Sad Duck, that freaky little bonus track on the official album! I only just discovered it and it’s driving me bananas in the best way because I’m a huge Duck fan and any insight into his character makes me scream. To be blunt, I think this track is meant to be Duck being tormented by Roy or one of the teachers, either as he lays in the hospital bed all drugged up, or when he’s already been eaten and returned to the void. Note this void also seems to be stretching into the world in the ending of Electricity unless that’s just a visual metaphor for the loop or the transitions between loops…agh my head hurts…

ANYWAY this track really demonstrates just how much Roy hates Duck—again, if he was created from Lesley’s darker emotions, this makes sense if she hates him too. Duck is being relentlessly mocked for missing his friends, called silly…and his “voice” is so distorted. It sounds like a purposefully bad impression. To me it feels like he’s being controlled to speak and thus add to the mockery of himself, or he’s utterly drugged off his head, or the teacher/Roy is mimicking his voice to make fun of him. And then the ending…who is that?

My guesses: the cans coming to suck his guts out, the other two here to reunite for the new-colour loop or the TV show or some other loop, or maybe even just a teacher or Roy coming to torture him some more. This entire song establishes Duck’s love for his friends, even though he finds it tricky to express, and all in a way where he is mocked and belittled for daring to love. This is, like, insanely hate-fuelled mockery. There’s a quote from that one interview where Duck says he loves whoever loves him back. At his core, he is fuelled by love tied with ego. And both are being ridiculed in this track. This makes me a sad duck too.

To explain why I think this voice represents or even is Roy…well, that voice is just how I imagine Roy’s human equivalent would have sounded really…it’s a pretty similar accent to Lesley after all. They seem kind of posh, which makes Yellow’s Yorkshire-y accent even funnier. I say Yorkshire because I’m from there, but it’s probably more vaguely Northern? Just so noticeably distinct from Lesley’s.

I think I’ve covered most of my major points! AKA, gushing about this show because it’s my favourite thing ever made EVER! I could gush forever, so I’ll have to stop myself now.

Right then, to wrap this up, here’s a loose order of events I’ve constructed based on my interpretation…

One. David, Lesley’s son is hit by a car and dies. Either soon after this happens or some years later, she is given the power to watch over and, to some degree, control a world with a puppet version of him and his new puppet companions. Lesley begins experimenting with different versions of the world; drafts, so to speak, testing the power of her creations.

Two. The webseries. This follows one of the worlds Lesley created, left in the very incapable hands of Roy, who is a puppet caricature of her husband with very little human emotion beyond malice. Roy tortures the puppets instead of watching over and guiding them as Lesley intended him to do. Impatient, he ends up booting Red and Duck the second they question things: he kills Duck (and does this torturously, keeping him alive on a blood bag as his guts are removed) and throws Red out into a fake world. When Roy or Lesley decides this world is a failure, Roy encourages Red to destroy it by pulling their plug, and another loop begins.

Three. The pilot. Though scrapped, the pilot is still oddly canon since Clayhill is mentioned to have disappeared in Transport. We can assume that Lesley had been experimenting, but was ultimately unhappy with the tone or characters of Clayhill and decided to destroy it to try something closer to her original concepts. If I were Lesley I would have kept the horrible bowling ball joke though

Four. The TV series. It seems as if Lesley is at last satisfied with her creation, at least for the time being, and keeps the loop going in this one world contained in one funny pink house. In this world, Lesley is physically close to the puppets to keep a watchful eye directly over them. She seems to be having a problem with them gaining self-awareness, especially Yellow Guy, who actually meets her over and over. Still, this just continues in an endless loop, never going anywhere. Memories are dissolved as soon as they form, characters are reset like clockwork, and nothing ever changes. Lesley seems content, though it’s difficult to tell…

All done! Wow, if you read this far, you’re a star!!!!!!! THANK YOU <3

For those interested, I also have an in-depth Big/Bigger Boys analysis not too far back (I haven’t posted in a while!) and a handful of questionable fanfics which use my interpretations and slip into character analysis on my AO3 :D

LOTS OF LOVE! Stay sillyyy! 💕

#dhmis #don't hug me i'm scared #fluffybird #yellow guy #red guy #duck dhmis #I can't wait until s2 comes out and disproves all of this #LOL jk :3 #dhmis analysis #dhmis theory

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runnning-outof-time · 2 years

Text

Birmingham | Tommy Shelby x Reader (Part 6)

Previous Part

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: (Y/N) continues her communication with her mom, turns down a suggestion from Tommy, tries to reason with Matthew, and then receives some help from Ada.

Warnings: language

Word Count: 3645

A/N: so I finished what I thought would be one part, and it turned it to be like 6000 words, so I’ve decided to split it in two. I’m hoping to have the next part posted on Monday (9/26) so that y’all can find out what happens at the derby. Enjoy! :)

Let me know if you want to be tagged in this series!

Dear (Y/N),

It is so good to be able to hear from you and to know how you are doing. Although it hurts me not to be able to see my only daughter in person, I will accept this as a sufficeable form of communication until we can see each other again.

You seem to have settled in nicely where you are living now. Upon your request, I have not shared your location with your brothers or father, although I think it may be beneficial if you allow me to. It felt rather secretive trying to hide the return address from them as I was gathering the mail. Until you tell me otherwise, I will continue to honor your request.

Matthew seems like a lovely man. You said you met him through work...what is it that you do? I find it incredible that you are able to put yourself out into the world like this, especially after the life your father made sure we had while you were growing up. I always knew you were destined for great things, (Y/N).

I also must ask...have you heard anything about the two of our men that came into Small Heath a few weeks back? Their names are Bradley and Steven. Maybe you've seen them around where you're staying. I ask this because they haven't come back to report to your brothers. I've heard some terrible things about Small Heath and Birmingham, and now I'm believing them to be true. Oh, (Y/N), please tell me you are safe.

With Love,

Mum

(Y/N) wasn't sure what she was feeling after she finished reading the letter she'd received from her mother. She was honestly surprised that she'd taken the time to write back, given that the letter she sent was rather vague. She figured she'd have to make it so that if her brothers intercepted it, not much would be given away about her new life...although them seeing the return address would give away the biggest secret; they wouldn't even have to read the letter.

It also worried her that her mother was bringing up questions about the two members of the Weller Boys who had arrived, and ultimately met their fate, in Birmingham about a month ago. She couldn't tell her what really happened to them. What mother would like to see 'oh yeah, those men?...I killed them' in a letter from her daughter?

She moved about her apartment, gathering the stationary that she used to write her letters on. Once her makeshift writing station at the dining table was set up, she uncapped the pen and started her letter:

Mum,

I am delighted that you are choosing to communicate with me in this form. I know it is not your first choice, but it is making me a great deal more comfortable in continuing with talking to you.

She paused, tapping the pen against her chin as she tried to decide what she'd address next. Go for the important things, she thought to herself.

I have not heard anything of those two men, nor have I seen their faces around...

A knocking on the door stopped her before she was able to finish her thought. "Coming!" she called, capping the pen before she quickly stood up and walked to the door. Upon opening it, she was greeted by Matthew's smiling face. "Hi," she greeted him with a smile.

"Hi," he repeated her greeting before he leaned in and kissed her lips quickly. "Are you ready to go?" he asked after pulling away.

"Is it that time already?" she asked with shock laced into her voice, her eyes widening slightly.

"It is," he grinned at her surprise, finding her response to his statement rather adorable.

"I'm sorry, I didn't notice. I was in the middle of writing something," she stated, jerking her thumb backwards into her apartment.

"That's alright, love," Matthew brushed her apology off, "we've still got time."

"I'll be quick," she told him, inviting him into the apartment then so that she could clean up her table and get the things she needed for work.

"Ready?" he asked once she came to his side again.

"Yes," she smiled at him, taking a deep breath to slow her heart rate down before they both exited her apartment in order to start the walk to the Garrison.

——

The day passed quickly, and nothing out of the ordinary happened. (Y/N) was busy stocking shelves and unpacking the wares that the pub needed to function. At the end of her shift, she worked hard to make sure that the crates she'd emptied were stacked properly in the corner so that Harry knew he could take them to the trash. Just as she was going to shut off the lights, she noticed Tommy standing in the doorway.

"Mr. Shelby...I'm sorry I didn't see you there," she apologized for leaving him waiting, "what can I do for you?"

"I wasn't waiting long," he brushed off her apology before stepping into the room. (Y/N)'s eyebrows furrowed at the reason behind his presence. She still wasn't sure what he wanted from her and at this point expected anything...given what he'd asked of her just a few days ago. "I was able to get my hands on this..." he continued before producing what looked to be a piece of red fabric from his pants pocket.

"What's that?" (Y/N) asked even though she knew that he'd tell her in a matter of seconds.

"It's the color that Kimber will be wearing to the derby," he explained before holding it out to her, "I wanted to give it to you...so that you could match your dress to him."

(Y/N) accepted the piece of fabric and stared at it for a moment. She flipped it around in her hands as she tried to think of how to word what she would say next. "Have it back," she finally said as she held her hand back out to Tommy.

"What?" Tommy was confused by her statement, his brows now furrowed.

"I will go to this derby with you, but I will not be dressed as a present for that man," she told him, her eyes locked onto his as she spoke so he knew that she was serious. Tommy's lips parted slightly as he tried to think of what to say in return. (Y/N) didn't let him speak. "You're a smart man, Tommy Shelby...you do not need to resort to that to initiate this business," she added, her eyes not wavering from his. She searched his eyes for a moment, seeing them widen slightly as he took in what she had to say.

With a slight nod, he took back the piece of fabric that was still extended between them so that he could return it to his pocket.

"Is there anything else you need from me?" (Y/N) asked after they'd been standing in silence for a few moments, their eyes not yet straying from each other’s.

"Not at the moment, no," he answered with a slight shake of his head.

"Am I free to leave?" was her next question. She knew that Matthew was waiting outside for her, and he'd promised her dinner after her shift was finished.

"Yes," Tommy nodded again, surprise still evident in his features. Truly, he'd been taken back by how (Y/N) responded to his ask. He thought that having her match her dress to Kimber’s handkerchief would be a surefire way to get a foot in the door with the man. Now he had to come up with a different avenue. He was sure that he would, but sometimes it was easier to take the blatant route.

"Goodnight, Mr. Shelby," she then said after she'd grabbed her things.

"Goodnight, (Y/N)," he repeated her farewell, allowing her to walk past him as he stood stagnant with a bit of a dumbfounded expression on his face. It'd been a while since someone other than a member of his family had stood up to him and shot down his idea...surprisingly, in this case at least, he wasn't at all mad about it.

(Y/N) tried to shake the conversation she'd just had as she walked through the bar's main area and out its doors. She must've not done a good job with it, because as soon as Matthew set his eyes on her, his brow was furrowed in concern. "What's happened, (Y/N)?" he asked as he walked over to her.

"Nothing, Matthew," she brushed his question off.

He wasn't satisfied by her response. "Tell me, please, baby," he gently prodded her to share what was on her mind with him, "you look like you've seen a ghost."

"I, uh..." she trailed off, furrowing her brows as she tried to think of how to say what she was going to tell him. "Mr. Shelby just asked a rather unusual thing of me."

Matthew's brows furrowed again, this time out of confusion, as he heard what she said, "what did he ask you?" he questioned, hoping she'd elaborate.

"He had a piece of fabric, the color that Kimber's wearing to the races. He wanted me to match my dress to it," she explained, watching as anger then flashed across his features.

"What?" he questioned, wanting to know if he'd heard her right.

"I guess he wanted to have me match Kimber so that I'd catch his eye...I turned him down, it's really nothing," she said then, trying to deflect the situation.

"He did fucking what?" the anger was fully apparent now, "I'm gonna go talk to him, (Y/N). Is he still in there?" he asked as he then began taking steps back to the doors of the Garrison.

"No, Matthew," (Y/N) grabbed hold of his arm to stop him from going any further, "please don't do that."

"He was going to make you a piece of bait, (Y/N)...that's disgusting," Matthew told her, at this point starting to become appalled at the fact that she didn't want him to go confront the other man.

"I know that it's disgusting, and that's why I told him no," she explained to him, trying to keep a calm head because she could see that he was getting riled up.

"You shouldn't have fucking agreed to this, (Y/N). You shouldn't have allowed him to take you to this."

"He's my boss, Matthew. I can't really tell him no when he asks something of me."

"You just did."

"You know what I mean," she said with a sigh, "I'm going to go with him, but I will do it on my terms."

"Yeah, well I'm coming with you now," Matthew said then, his frustration still apparent.

"What?" (Y/N) asked, confused by the sudden turn of events.

"I don't trust him with you...I'm coming so that you'll be protected," he insisted.

"That's not necessary Matthew and you know that," she disagreed with his idea.

"Tell me why you think that," he asked her to elaborate.

"Because Mr. Shelby hired you to be my protection. He most likely chose you because you could offer the same level of it that he can. He certainly knows what to be on the lookout for," she explained her reasoning, "I understand why you want to, Matthew, but please don't," she added, a pleading look on her face.

He stared at her with a straight face, her words playing on his mind for a few moments before he let out a sigh. Accepting her statement, he nodded his head. "If he lets something happen to you, (Y/N), I swear, I..."

"Do you really think he'll let something happen to me, Matthew?" she cut him off, raising her eyebrows slightly. A small smile formed on her face when she was only responded to with a slight shake of his head. "Can we go get dinner now, please?" she asked him, hoping to finally get past this topic.

"Yes, we can," he nodded, trying his best to put on a smile as he offered his arm for her to take. Her smile grew as she accepted it, and they began walking to their intended dinner spot.

——

"Thank you for coming along with me, Ada," (Y/N) said as the two women approached the doors of one of the more well-known boutiques in Small Heath. "I really don't know the first place to look when it comes to an appropriate dress for a derby."

"It's not a problem, (Y/N)...I'd do anything at this point to get out of the apartment. Freddie insists we stay here, but yet he's the only one who's able to go about his business. I just wish he would...see sense in all of this," Ada answered her, her stress shining through in her words.

"Men hardly ever see sense, do they?" (Y/N) stated as she sent Ada a knowing look, "they just see what benefits them and they run towards it with their blinders up and destination set."

"It was you who got through to Tommy you know, (Y/N). You made him change his mind...made him allow Freddie to marry me. Except we were supposed to marry in any place but here," Ada pointed out as she glanced over at the other woman.

Another knowing look formed on (Y/N)'s face before it faded into a small smile. She was happy that her friend had her lover, and also the father of her child, back in her life, but she hated to hear that there were still obvious tensions between him and Tommy. From what she'd heard about all of it, it seemed like Freddie was really pressing his luck.

"I never got to congratulate you on your marriage, Ada," (Y/N) said then, slightly changing the topic of conversation, "I'm sure you looked beautiful in white."

Ada snorted slightly before saying: "yeah, whatever white was left after I ran through the mud-covered streets."

"A proper Small Heath bride, I'm sure," (Y/N) cracked a smile, her statement making Ada laugh.

"Oh, most certainly," Ada responded, the two women sharing a laugh as they walked to the door of the boutique they decided on stopping in.

"Ok, you need to really help me here, Ada...I'm lost," (Y/N) said after taking in all of the articles of clothing that were hanging on display.

"You say that like I've been to my share of derbies in the past," Ada answered her with a chuckle.

"You've not?" (Y/N) questioned, her eyes widening slightly. Was this a lost cause?

"Derbies are solely the men's business, (Y/N). They'll only bring a woman along when the purpose suits them," Ada informed her friend, making the other woman sigh at her words.

"I seem to be finding that out a little too late," (Y/N) sighed, dropping her gaze to the ground as she shook her head slightly. Was agreeing to this the wrong choice?, she wondered as she looked at all of the dresses again. Between Ada's comment and Tommy's attempt to make her stand out, it was now blatantly obvious why she'd been asked to attend the derby. She couldn't go back on her commitment now though...the derby was only a handful of days away.

"It'll be fine, (Y/N)," Ada attempted to brush the other woman's worries aside.

"I can only hope," (Y/N) huffed, dropping her gaze to the ground for a moment before she took a deep breath to steady herself. Everything is going to be ok, she told herself before she looked up and around the room again. This time, she tried not to let the many choices overwhelm her.

"Is there any specific color you have in mind?" Ada asked after a few silent moments.

"No. I'll look at anything but red," she answered the brown-haired woman, trying hard not to allow a tone of distaste enter her words. Ada sent her a look that asked 'why not?' then, and (Y/N) weighed out whether or not she wanted to disclose the reason. "It's a long story," she settled with a vague response.

"Tell it when you're ready," Ada stated, and (Y/N) sent a silent 'thank you' for the fact that she didn't try to force out the details. She'd been lucky in finding Ada as a friend.

The two women got going on looking through the options, and searched through just about half of the store before their time spent started to get the best of them. "Try this on, Ada," (Y/N) said as she held a blue dress up into view, "I'm tired of being the only one going into the dressing rooms."

"You're the one looking for the dress though," Ada pointed out.

"Yeah, I know that, but...please?" the other woman asked, sending her friend the puppy dog look for good measure.

"I'll look like a whale," Ada continued to dispute the idea.

"You will not. You barely have a bump yet," (Y/N) wasn't falling for it.

Ada pursed her lips as she stared at her friend, who was still pouting dramatically. A few moments passed before she let out a sigh. "Fine. Give me it," she grumbled, reaching her hand out for the garment (Y/N) was holding. (Y/N) clapped her hands as best she could in excitement before she handed the dress over to Ada. "Don't laugh at me when I come out though," Ada stated as she moved back to the dressing rooms.

"Never," (Y/N) answered in all seriousness as she then waited for the other woman to get changed.

"Ok...how absurd do I look?" Ada asked a few moments later before she pushed the curtain aside.

"You look good, Ada!" (Y/N) said, her jaw just about dropping at how beautiful the dress looked on her friend.

"You think?" Ada questioned, looking at herself in the mirror.

"I know," (Y/N) flipped the woman's words around with a grin, "that dress is beautiful," she added.

"Maybe you should try it on," Ada suggested, her eyebrows raised slightly.

"That might be a good idea," (Y/N) agreed before she moved back to the racks where she'd originally gotten the dress to find one in her size. She then quickly changed out of her clothes and into the dress before coming back out to meet Ada again.

"What do you think?" Ada questioned as she looked her friend over.

"I really like it," (Y/N) said with a smile as she looked at herself in the mirror. The dress felt good on her. It wasn't too revealing, fit against her body nicely, and made her feel confident. The royal blue color beautifully contrasted with her features. This had to be the dress she picked.

"See...you would have never chosen it if you hadn't seen it on me first," Ada grinned, proud of herself that she helped her friend pick out the dress she'd be wearing.

"What until I tell your brother this one..." (Y/N) trailed off with a giggle, "if you like the dress, you'll have to give all of the credit to Ms. Ada Shelby," she then jokingly recited what she'd tell Tommy.

"That's Mrs. Ada Thorne, thank you," Ada corrected her, the two women bursting into a fit of giggles then. "So you and Tommy, yeah?" she asked once their laughter had subsided.

"No," (Y/N) responded rather quickly, her eyes widening slightly as what Ada said had sunk in. Ada sent her a look then that had her going even further into defending herself, "he's just asked me to come to the races as a part of business. That's really all."

"I think he'll like the dress," was all Ada said in response before she looked at herself in the mirror, "the dress that I've now got to take off because I'll be walking out of here with it too if I don't," she added before she walked away from (Y/N), leaving her looking at herself in the mirror with a rather dumbfounded expression.

——

(Y/N) was just finishing playing with her hair and making sure it was set properly when a knock sounded off of her door. She grabbed her purse and made her way to it, a smile on her face when she saw Matthew standing outside.

"Wow," he said as he looked over her figure.

"A good wow?" she asked, a hopeful smile on her face.

"A great wow," he corrected her with a grin, his words making her cheeks heat up. "Are you ready?" he asked then, to which (Y/N) nodded in response. "Let's go then," he stated, offering her his arm. She accepted it and they exited the apartment.

They made their way to the Garrison and stood out in front of it like Tommy had instructed her to the day prior. Soon enough, Tommy was approaching them in his car.

"Enjoy yourself," Matthew said to (Y/N), a smile on his face as he helped her into the passenger's side of the car. She smiled at him and he made sure she was situated before he looked at Tommy. "Make sure you keep an eye on her," he told him, sounding much like the child who was telling the adult what they should be doing.

Tommy only glanced between (Y/N) and Matthew before he nodded his head. Matthew, accepting the answer, stepped away from the car then. "Ready?" Tommy asked (Y/N), glancing her over after he spoke.

"Yes," (Y/N) responded with a smile and a slight nod. That was all Tommy needed to start up the car again so that they could begin the drive to the derby.

Next Part

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ssaalexblake · 1 year

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I’d be interested in hearing your thoughts on the Ghost Monument. I know some people feel the stakes aren’t high enough, and that maybe if the racers were pitted against each other more it could be a more ‘interesting’ episode I guess, but I find the dynamics of the 2 guest cast to be interesting because they aren’t enemies, they’re not friends either but there’s not a desire to kill each other, because they are their out of necessity and to me that’s more then just being there out of ego or a prize. That surrounded by the history of the Stenza on the planet, it’s fascinating and one where I don’t think I’m fully across yet, so would be interested in hearing your thoughts.

Honestly, I was mostly just shocked that people thought this episode was bad? It wouldn't make my favourites list but there's literally nothing wrong with it either in plot or the execution of it imo. I enjoy it in a rewatch! It builds important dynamics and sets up important arcs. The foundation for the main characters are more firmly set.

Also, like, whatever peoples feelings on the stakes in this episode, it should be noted that The Ghost Monument as an episode has a dark twin. Its name is Ascension of the Cybermen. Narratively they function as a pair and the second one is supposed to be a lot darker with more stakes that shows the development of the characters, so you can't really do that if the first one is absolutely Go Go Go GO high stakes all the whole way through? The tonal difference belays the seriousness of the second episode. The contrast shows to demonstrate both how far the fam have come in AotC and how far 13 has fallen from TGM.

Not to say the sitch they're in in TGM isn't serious, it is, but this is not super stressful to the doctor, she's not, till the very end, scared she can't return them home or that they'll die (well. anymore than the doctor apparently normally is. The monologue in Once, Upon Time was fabulous but very sad). The fam are mostly just following 13's lead to get through this all figuring it's their best chance. In the second episode, they show their own initiative. In effect TGM is their training wheel episode that allows them to survive when the stakes get high.

The links between 11x01 & 2 and 12x09 & 10 give me Life. Such brilliant arching plot threads. Great bookends to Ryan and Graham's time on the show.

And really? This is a personal opinion, but disaster apocalyptic scenarios (which this is applicable to even if our group aren't natives of the place) where everybody lives in hell but just fight and try and kill each other as well as the environment trying to off them are just Bad. And belays an absolutely twisted view of us as a species. I feel like them all banding together when it gets tough and forming a community, if a very terse one where not everybody gets along, is actually an accurate portrayal of people in general. Even whatshisface Enzo or whatever joined the group he hated for safety because he was a lousy person, yeah, but he was Not stupid. I cannot stand grimdark crap like those zombie shows where people just kill each other en masse in their warring factions or whatever like the whole of human history isn't us forming societies and working together.

But speaking of whatever his name is, I feel like his contributions to the dialogue of the episode played an important part in delivering the themes they were going for, so making them fight instead would just have damaged the episode's core aims.

Mr 'I love my mum she taught me people are awful and selfish and horrible by breaking my trust and allowing me to get badly injured' is, congrats, the first person in this era to talk about his terrible mother whom 13 Immediately says sucks (gee i wonder why they did that. he even got hurt because he fell and his mum didn't save him). This is also the first time the cycle of abuse is mentioned because uh, the loser in the mother of the year competition did it specifically so it'd perpetuate itself in her son. This is the episode the timeless child is first mentioned. Considering the cornerstone of the arc is that this child in the end Broke that chain of abuse I do not consider this a coincidence. I'd bet him and his mother would think that Tecteun made that child Strong by what they did to them. 13 did Not like this man and she wouldn't, he's a dark mirror but also the victim of a really shitty mother.

There are other things i take note of in this episode. It's the first time out of post regeneration weirdness we see 13 really hit her stride. It's the first time we see her eschew pacifism as Her Thing despite the fact that she's already demonstrated her willingness to use violence with a few bombs the ep previous. Contextual morality. Reoccurring theme. It Wasn't a good idea to use violence in the situation she was in in TGM. Still doesn't make her a pacifist though bc lol, the bomb thing. So it's Kind of the first blatant portrayal of 13's private actions contrasting ones witnessed by the fam which are used to make her look better in their eyes. This will continue all season.

The stenza are now explicitly portrayed as violent colonizers as opposed to weird guys with the universe's most messed up election system. The lady is going through a race from hell is here to buy her loved ones out of the hell of their society. It's the first time the theme Properly pops up in the era. The first of many times. 13 continues to be a support to Ryan here, deepening their relationship. She's dad-ing him. She's not mad, she's disappointed! (she's also mad). She's also supportive of him.

I also think that 13 totally running out of ideas and thinking they're all gonna die at the end when the others disappear and the tardis does Not appear sets up something interesting. The fam, the ones who have been sceptical about her ability to save them this ep but still figure her as their best chance Immediately bolster her confidence and try and prop her up. They continue with the 'you've got this doc, we have faith in you!!' for a while after that, i assume they think she needs the morale boost? But I think it just leaves her with this terrifying pressure in the end?

She tries to let them know later on that this travelling is Dangerous and that they could get hurt but i think they have kind of started to buy into their own hype about her by then and aren't as worried as they should be. They think tim shaw is the worst of the worst the whole of s11 and 13 doesn't barely deign to acknowledge him bc he's so beneath her. So by the time the real bad guys pop out of the woodwork that Actually scare her the fam are overconfident in her ability to save them, which in turn eventually leaves them in the AOTC situation where they have to save themselves because she Cannot save them herself. She gave them an out before then and they didn't take it because they were not worried. I think the journey to that overconfidence starts right here.

I guess if i had to gripe it'd be that the scene where the two racers decide to take the prize together was Way too easy and more of a footnote in the story? There wasn't really another way this was going to end, but still. That seemed a little weakly done to me. I'd like a little bit more time devoted to it because it's not like i can't think of a few different scenarios to get here, it's just they'd have taken more screen time. In the end, I think that the episode had more important plot threads to go into so they just rushed it a bit. Maybe that's where people wanted more conflict? I don't want more conflict as much as a deeper discussion. They Didn't have a gripe with each other beyond that they were competing against each other and wanted to win and it didn't seem to occur to them that they could just share. But also, i've not watched this for a while. Maybe i'm misremembering, but i remember it feeling short to me.

idk, in the end it reminds me, weirdly, of Jurassic park where they're working their way across the park to the guest centre when all the dinos are escaped. Yes they're in danger and at times it's severe, but they have time to talk and bond and work together using their own skills as a group. The stakes Are high, there be monsters out to kill them and they want to go home, but it's also not 100% dire at all times. It hits the same mood for me.

This episode wasn't grim but it wasn't trying to be either so i guess if you Like grim it'd be a disappointment, but it did what it wanted to pretty well with setting stuff up and having a reasonable compelling episode plot.

Also... It's Super pretty. The bright sun. Glorious.

#13stardisposts #dw shit #dw meta #kind of #i mostly just talked #i like this ep and i'm mostly just surprised people object to it so much???

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