#BUT everything should be down when i reach chapter 26 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jmvore · 1 year

Text

Jokes on You ➻ Prologue

» RATING › 18+ [M I N O R S D O N O T I N T E R A C T] » GENRE(S) › smut, angst, fluff » AU › infidelity, polyamorous, married!au » PAIRING(S) › jimin x reader, yoongi x reader, & jungkook x reader » WORD(S) › 700(w) » SYNOPSIS › It was supposed to be your annual Christmas date that you have every year. A chance to talk and to try to get an understanding of where you are within your arranged marriage but... He didn't show, leaving you sitting in the middle of a crowded restaurant and embarrassed about being stood up by your spouse. It’s okay though at least you have three other men who want to spend time with you. » WARNING(S) › no warning(s) to account for aside from your husband being an absolute shit-head. » SMUT WARNING(S) › none here. will put on each chapter. » ORIGINAL POST DATE › 12/26/2001 » RE-POSTED DATE › 9/9/23 » A/N › Thank you @/saradika for the divider(s)! they’re so cute. Anyway thanks for reading lovelies.

[11:23pm] dickhead: I won’t be able to make it, baby but I’ll make it up to you. I promise. I’m so sorry.

You’ve been staring at his text message for damn near an hour in utter disbelief. What pisses you off more is the fact that he waited until he knew you would be there to tell you. You would have been fine. There are other places you could have been spending your time. Other (deserving) people you could be spending your time on.

However, leaving you here with nothing to go on but this text message he sent an hour ago?

Frustrated doesn’t even begin to describe your mood. You’re trying your hardest not to break your phone or make a scene because what the hell? If this was any other type of dinner, you wouldn’t have cared.

But…

It’s Christmas Eve (soon to be Christmas) and it was his idea to spend the night celebrating. He was the one who made the reservation for the night. He was the one who said he had planned a night in the town. He was the one who told you to wear that red bodycon dress that shows off your assets and makes you look and feel pretty.

And it was him who had you sitting in this fancy-ass restaurant waiting like a damn fool.

You reached out to him to try and figure out where the hell he was but he didn’t even have the decency to call or text you back. It’s only when you leave him a shrew of messages cursing him out is when he shoots back with that half-ass apology.

No explanation as to where he is.

No care in the world of how him leaving you here made you feel.

Sometimes you wonder why you let your parents marry you off to him in the first place. You knew it was for their benefit. Something about their business being in debt and you being the one to (hopefully) bring their business back from the dead through this union. You weren’t truly paying attention. In the end, it didn’t matter because soon after you said your vows they went bankrupt, forcing them to give up everything they worked decades for. You never forgave them for forcing your hand. Especially after you learned the reasoning behind the marriage.

You were their wild child. Their problem child. They hoped you being married would force you to settle down. To give them the grandchildren they desired seeing as their only other child, your sister Eun-ji, had cut all ties (and now you see why honestly).

After a while, you found yourself distancing them from you and your life until you got to a point where you only talked to them every once in a blue moon. Which, wasn’t often. Maybe once every two or three months.

As for your husband… Over time you grew to tolerate his presence within the confines of your house. You could even say you grew to like him but you never loved him.

Not the way he used to love you.

And now, this whole sham of a marriage has been nothing but disappointment after disappointment. That feeling of ’like’ you had slowly dwindled into disdain and in return, you gave up. You're not as upset as you should be but it doesn't matter. You hoped that he would slowly realize how irrelevant he is because you realized it very early on. Honestly, you’re ready to take that next step to leave this burden of a marriage. It not benefiting you anyway.

The first step, however, is getting the hell out of here.

You stand to leave. Brain on overdrive because you want to leave this establishment as soon as possible. You flag down a waiter as another waitress makes her way toward you with what looks like a bouquet of lilies. She mentions he had them reserved for you before bowing and apologizing. You’re getting more pissed off as the time ticks by and the more you look at the flowers, the angrier you become.

All you want to do is go home.

You pay what little bill you had before bowing and apologizing. You hoped the walk to the valet outside wouldn’t be that terrible but, of course, nothing ever goes to plan.

You turn to leave and immediately smack right into a waiter holding a tray of drinks. The tray crashes to the floor as the vase of lilies falls and crashing to the ground causing it to shatter. She apologizes profusely, trying to wipe off the remnants but it’s a little too late. Your favorite dress is ruined and you’re already growing sticky. It’s uncomfortable and it makes you feel repulsed. You know it’s not her fault, rerouting your anger to your soon-to-be ex-husband. You tell her it’s fine when she offers to get you another vase for the flowers but you refuse. You didn’t even want them in the first place.

Finally outside, you wrap your coat tighter around your body as the valet brings your car around. You thank the man and give him a small tip before settling, you let your tears of frustration fall. Embarrassing doesn’t even begin to describe how you feel. From being stood up to having drinks dumped on you (not intentionally of course), you wondered how could this night get any worse.

Glancing at the clock you realize it’s almost thirty minutes away from being Christmas and you’re about to spend it alone. Although, you don’t want to go home. You don’t want to see his face and you for sure, don’t want to be in the same house with him. You much rather spend it with someone you know who wants to spend it with you.

You groan, tossing the present (you wish you hadn’t had) for him to the back seat. You don’t want to look at it anymore, a reminder of a horrible night.

“I should call him…” You grumble and scroll through your contacts until you see the person you’re looking for. You dial his number and he picks up on the third ring. Excited that you had time to call. You shouldn’t be this thrilled to talk to another man that’s not your husband but… the would have mattered if this marriage was a complete farce.

“Hey…” You sigh in relief, knowing the night is going to be just fine and he leaves you in a much happier mood after the shit show you’ve just endured

You can skip chapters to who you want to read!💖

Prologue

Choice 01⇢ Yoongi ⇢ Bittersweet ⇢ 6k+

Choice 02 ⇢ Jungkook ⇢ You Make Me Better ⇢ 5.6k+

Choice 03 ⇢ Jimin ⇢ You & Me ⇢ TBA

Epilogue

103 notes · View notes

farfromstrange · 4 months

Text

Chaos Theory | Michael Kinsella x Reader

Chapter 26: Seven Devils All Around

Masterlist ° Chapter List

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Reader (she/her)

Summary: When you arrive at your apartment, you notice that the door isn't locked. You make the mistake of entering without calling the police first, and you pay dearly for your recklessness.

Warnings: ANGST, blood, violence, break-in, mentions of suicidal thoughts

Word Count: 3.4k

A/n: It took me a while to get this done because I just wasn't happy with it, but I finally got it done. We're starting to get knee-deep into the next angst arc, so I hope you're prepared for some tension, twists, and turns!

The view behind the windshield blurs through your tears as you navigate the streets of Dublin, hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly your knuckles turn white.

You push your foot down on the gas. You want to go home, but you also don’t. Your apartment hasn’t felt like home in a very long time. After meeting Michael, and everything was still somewhat okay, he became your home, but even that seems like a distant feeling now. Your feelings toward him haven’t changed, of course, but the pile of shit you have to deal with keeps getting bigger, and you can’t catch up. You don’t know what to do. The helplessness adds to the pain of being in love—of worrying about the man you love and the family he was born into who seems to only want the worst for you and him—and that makes feeling at home a sheer impossibility.

The motor of your car roars, but you keep going at a speed that might cost you your license until you pull into the dark street of your neighborhood and finally manage to park the car before you break down.

Your sobs echo through the small space. Every hiccuped intake of oxygen rumbles in your chest, burning through every quarter of your lungs. It’s getting significantly harder to breathe.

Leaving was a spur-of-the-moment decision that seemed right at the time. You had to leave. You were drowning, but the hand Michael offered was too far away and too high up to reach. Miles stretched between you; if you had tried swimming toward him, you would have never reached the end alive. You had to save yourself.

Leaving was the right thing to do—at least that is what you kept telling yourself on the drive home. Now, though, you're starting to question what you were thinking, breaking apart at the seams after desperately clinging to a life buoy of paper.

You used to be such a rational person. Perhaps it was the constant ignorance of reality—the lying to yourself and pretending all was well—that made everything easier. You became complicit with your trauma’s need to forget everything and move on because facing the truth was just too painful, and you tried telling yourself that you could barely remember most of it, anyway. The things you could remember, you swore to take care of once you had it figured out, but that was a foolish lie you concocted for the sake of your peace of mind.

After meeting Michael, reality only started seeping in again. Because his reality and your reality have both turned out to be brutal in their essence. Though after all this time of pretending and being eaten alive by the things you knew and couldn’t share—didn’t want to share, even because you knew the consequences could cause your entire life to fall apart—reality has become a weight you forgot how to carry. Now, your world is falling apart anyway, and there seems to be no way out.

You knew this would happen, but you didn’t want to face the truth. That is the problem. And that is, you think, on you entirely. You should have been more careful, knowing your delusions would become your downfall eventually.

And you can’t blame Michael, no matter how badly you want to. You can’t hate or degrade him, not even in your mind. He was worried, he was upset, and he was angry because he had to find out that even after trying so hard to stay on the straight and narrow, his chances of getting custody of his daughter would remain lower than the deepest parts of the ocean. He ran against an invisible clock and still lost, even after making it on time. You tried to help him, and he tried to help himself, but your attempts were futile. Now, after everything, he is scared of losing you, too.

He gave you one condition; stay home and don’t do anything stupid. You couldn’t even do that, and the worry made his fuses blow. That’s not his fault.

You don’t know why you did it. The nagging feeling wouldn’t leave you alone, and you acted on your feelings rather than common sense. You were angry at the world; Frank coming over and confronting you with the pictures that weigh heavy in the pocket of your jeans was merely your last straw in a game you felt like you were going to lose right this second if you didn’t do something other than sit around and wait.

You faced your fears today and hated what you saw. You couldn’t stay, not when your lives are starting to pull you in different directions. Sticking together is a dangerous game, one you no longer know how to play without either one of you—or those around you—getting burned. You’re no good for each other, especially not now, and maybe you have never been.

You couldn’t stay, but right now, crying alone in your car as you’re falling apart, you can’t help but wish Michael was there to hold you through the earthquake that takes you under.

Pushing people away is your defense mechanism as much as it is Michael’s. You should never have let him this close in the first place, knowing the past you’ve been hiding from the world. You were so focused on yourself, playing down the risk behind it that you turned yourself into a fool.

You can put a butterfly bandage on his forehead; you can love him, and you can accept the love he can give you, but none of that will fix something that has been broken from the start. None of that can fix your broken family or bring your sister back to you.

Love, bandages, not even a nail could solve the issue you have been grappling with for years, and it won’t magically condemn your father to a lifetime of torture like the one he subjected you to. Saving yourself comes at a cost, and sometimes the leftover debt becomes too high to pay with an empty bank account. What do you do then? What do you do if you don’t have the means to pay the cost, not even to fight?

You slam the car door, locking it with the press of a button. You’re not thinking straight, you try telling yourself, but your body has a mind of its own.

The stairs leading up to your apartment creak under your footsteps. You take two at a time. Last-minute flights are more expensive, but you have some emergency cash stashed away in your wallet; that should be enough to pay for a flight to London. This is wrong. This is beyond reckless, and if Michael knew, he would move mountains to make sure you would never make it to the airport without opening your eyes and rethinking your decision, but it’s not rationality that drives you.

Every time you breathe, the hourglass loses another grain of sand. Every time you move without a purpose or care, another second is wasted into oblivion. You can’t run fast enough, but you have to try.

Hot tears continue to stream down your cheeks, staining your skin with a mixture of sweat and salt. When you finally reach your floor, you search for the right key on your chain with shaky fingers. It has to be somewhere.

You approach the lock. When you left, you locked it. You know you did. You wrote a note in your phone, just in case you were to wonder if you turned off all appliances and locked the door on your way out. You can never be too careful. Michael’s family plays a huge part in your newfound care. It’s no secret that monsters are no longer just lurking in the dark shadows of an alleyway or under your bed. They are in your head and the people around you, and they are even part of your family—your own flesh and blood. Monsters are everywhere but in the places you expect them to be.

You insert the key, and you stop breathing. The door budges under your touch. You locked the door when you left. You closed it. All windows are shut, and one of your neighbors would have noticed if you had accidentally left one open. They would have called you about any suspicious activity because the old lady in the apartment above yours likes to watch. You’re certain you took the necessary precautions, and yet you push against the wood once, and your door opens completely.

Your ribs are starting to hurt from how hard your heart is pounding against the sturdy bone. “What the—” you mutter under your breath. It’s a warning sign you expertly ignore.

Anyone else would have called the police at the first sign of foul play, but you can’t bring yourself to pull out your phone. If someone played with the lock, or if someone broke into your apartment, there are many things they could have taken, and you have never felt so sick to the pit of your stomach—not even when you were beaten senseless or had to confess to your father that you got a bad mark on a test, knowing he would make sure the injuries no one could see would hurt a few days longer, perhaps even scar so you could never forget what he did to you. But even without the scars, the memories are fresher than daisies on a spring morning.

The floorboards creak. Blood rushes to your cheeks. You reach into your bag, fingers wrapping around the small bottle of pepper spray you ordered online one night after a few glasses of wine and a scary encounter with a stranger on your way home from work in the dead of winter. You clutch the small bottle so tightly, you wouldn’t be surprised if you end up spraying yourself.

The silence is deafeningly loud. It screams into your ear. You’re met not with darkness but with a faint string of light streaming into the hallway from the direction of your living room. You should call the police, you really should, but you don’t. Instead, you breach the doorway and step inside.

Documents line the floor like a thin carpet. Some pieces are torn while others are still held together neatly in the corners by fragile paper clips.

You swallow. After Michael accidentally found the file in one of your drawers, you learned from your mistake and hid them somewhere they couldn’t be found. You thought you did because, between the two of you, you are the only ones aware that it even exists. You tried everything to make sure something like this wouldn’t happen. Would’ve, could’ve, should’ve, but nothing could have prepared you for this.

The blood freezes in your veins. Your hands run cold. Your desk is tipped over, and your couch has been ripped apart at the seams, probably by a sharp blade that cut into the fabric to check the filling inside. You don’t keep any money in the apartment, but the paper trail tells you instantly that whoever did this was not looking for valuables.

Only a handful of people would profit from that file: those who want to hurt you, and the one person who would take it to protect himself—the Kinsellas and your father.

Tears spring to your eyes. The fear that spreads through your body at a speed faster than lighting works as a paralytic. Your father isn’t a criminal mastermind, but he’s ruthless and who knows what he would do if he found out what you are doing behind his back. He wouldn’t just let out all of his anger and frustration on you, he would kill you. If only he knew what you were doing, he would make sure another gravestone would be added next to Ellie’s. He is that kind of person, but not the kind of person powerful enough to orchestrate this. At least that is what you would have believed a few days ago. Now, you’re not so sure anymore what to believe.

The Devil likes to hide in plain sight.

You can only stare and pray to the heavens above that you’re just dreaming. That this isn’t real. That you’re not standing in ruins. You were so careful…

Again, the floorboards creak, but you didn’t take a step this time. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Your skull burns as though someone is glaring daggers into the bone. You can feel another presence in the room, breathing down your neck. Your thumb brushes over the trigger.

The light switch on the other end of the room cracks under the weight of a heavy fist. This is it, you think. You’re going to die. But—and even if it’s just for a moment, it still crosses your mind—maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

Your ragged breaths break the silence in the sudden darkness. Without warning, a pair of strong arms wraps around you from behind. You cry out, but a gloved hand finds its way over your parted lips. The taste of the leather makes you gag.

Fear takes over in a storm, but your mind refuses to let you curl up and die. You throw your head back, arms flailing as you scratch at his forearms. DNA is crucial, and no matter what happens, you must fight back.

You fight back with every ounce of strength left, but it's like struggling against a force of nature. The masked man is relentless as he crushes you against the wall.

With a deafening crash, the wooden shelf next to the still-open front door topples over as he backs against it with you pressed to his sturdy chest, sending shards of glass and ceramic crashing to the ground.

The pain explodes like a dirty bomb at the side of your skull. He smashes you against the bricks that hide behind the white wallpaper you chose not to paint over after moving here. In the darkness, you can’t see the crimson stain that forms underneath, but the shadow glistens in the moonlight.

You hit the floor hard, the man tossing you to the floorboards. The impact pushes all the air from your lungs. You gasp, and it burns, but you can’t get the oxygen back where it needs to.

Desperation claws at your throat as you reach out, grasping for anything to defend yourself. You are okay with dying, but not without putting up a fight. And is the easy way out really what you want to take to your grave after making it so far? You doubt that. Survival moves to the forefront of your mind. Before you can even muster a coherent thought, the masked stranger is on you again, hands locking around your throat.

You choke, trying to pry him away, but it’s useless. You kick your feet up and forward, desperate for air, and finally knock him off balance. With a growl of frustration, he releases his hold on you.

In the dim moonlight, you catch a glint of porcelain on the floor next to the scattered shelf. It’s the vase that held the flowers Michael gave you on your first date. You didn’t throw them away when they started to wither because you wanted to hold onto that sliver of happiness for a little longer. The sharp piece scratches the inside of your palm, but you continue to reach for it, your teeth gritted as you struggle against your attacker. Eventually, your fingers wrap around the sharp edges, and you try to jab it into his bicep.

The man leans in close, his hot breath ghosting over your ear. “Just stop…fuckin’ fighting,” he hisses. You don’t recognize his voice. It doesn’t even cross your mind to try and do so; your only motivation is to get out.

He catches the shard before you can hurt him though. You half-expected him to keep choking you until you pass out or die. Instead, he turns your makeshift weapon around on you.

Time slows to a crawl. With a primal scream of defiance, you lunge forward, trying to get it back. Yet, it's too late.

The glass pierces your flesh, tearing a gash into your side. The pain knocks the remaining air right out of your lungs. You can’t scream. You can’t cry.

Blood wells up against your skin. With a final, vicious twist of the glass, the stranger wrenches the shard free from your body. The walls start caving in. You’re trapped in a box, and the water is rising in your lungs.

The floorboards from the apartment above that make up your ceiling start to creak, and the man sits back on his heels, chin tilted up. He curses under his breath.

You try to catch a glimpse of his face, but the darkness is overwhelming. Again, the floorboards above creak. You want to beg for mercy, maybe even scream for help, but nothing wants to come out.

The weight on your chest disappears. Your eyes flutter, but you force them to stay open, patting along your trousers. Where is your phone? You hope to God you didn’t leave it in the car. You should have called the police. You should have…

It was foolish to think you would stand a chance against an intruder with a mere bottle of pepper spray. It seems as though he was trained for this very moment. He destroyed your apartment, and now he is reaching for what you were trying to preserve. You don’t know who he is, but he seems to know exactly where to find your little secret, and that makes you sick. The pain makes you sick.

How did he know?

Through blurry eyes, you see the masked figure playing with the file in his hand. He passes by you, the mask moving where he’s smirking.

“No,” you choke out. “Please…”

He sighs a condescending breath. “Little girls shouldn’t stick their noses into issues that don’t concern them.”

‘What does that even mean?’ you want to scream back at him, but the only sound that passes your lips is a gurgled moan as the tip of his steel boot starts to dig into the wound on your side.

You reach for him, but he disappears as soon as the light outside turns on and the stairs creak under the weight of your upstairs neighbor—the old lady who once introduced herself as Lilian after you helped her carry her groceries.

The invisible noose around your neck tightens. You haven’t been this scared in a very long time. If you’d stayed; if you and Michael had talked it out, and if you’d tried to be more rational instead of letting your heart take over, this wouldn’t have happened.

You fumble for your phone, your fingers slick with your blood. They tremble against the surface of the screen, leaving crimson fingerprints behind. The screen doubles and distorts before your eyes, the numbers dancing mockingly out of reach.

You manage to hit the speed dial for Michael—yes, him, not the police, and that little voice in your head is baffled that you continue making such bad decisions. Your voice is a hoarse whisper as you plead, “Please pick up, please pick up, please…” But there's no answer.

Panic claws at your chest. The phone slips from your grasp, clattering to the floor beside you, into a pool of blood and the remaining shards of the vase.

Lilian calls out from the other side of the door, her footsteps hurrying down the stairs.

With a last, desperate surge of strength, you reach out, fingers brushing against the cold floor. “Help,” you croak. Your head pounds. It sounds as though you’re screaming.

The door doesn’t budge. Didn’t she hear you? You press the call button again, desperate, but again, Michael doesn’t pick up. You can’t hold your eyes open much longer. You can’t…

The world spins dizzily around you, the darkness threatening to claim you and drag you toward the light.

You sob, reaching for the throbbing wound in your side. It’s time to accept it for what it is, you figure. Lilian pounds on the door, but the sound is starting to fade as your heartbeat pounds harder and faster against your ribcage and your throat, trying to catch up. You realize it won’t. Not in time. Your heart will grow weak soon.

You’re unsure how long you lie there, floating in a weird middle space between consciousness and a depth you have never been in before. You dip in your toes, but it won’t quite accept you just yet. You want to jump in. You want to learn to swim, even if you have to drown first. The pressure is taking you under. God, you want it to end. It’s too much, and you hate that you can’t do anything.

Denial works until it doesn’t.

The door breaks off its hinges. It couldn’t have been Lilian. You feel a hand on your cheek, and the man it belongs to slaps your skin rather roughly. Your eyes flutter open, weak and sensitive to the light.

The old lady must have alerted your other neighbors. Their voices overlap, grow louder, and then disappear. You can only hear your racing heartbeat in your throat.

Someone applies pressure to your wound, and you cry out. At least you think you do. Your fingers twitch, reaching for the man’s arm. He’s looking at you softly, trying to keep your attention on him, but it’s not him you care about.

Michael.

It comes out as gibberish.

“Save your strength,” your neighbor says. “Help is on the way.”

But you fear that the help he mentioned might not make it on time as your eyes close and you decide to succumb to the darkness. You put up enough of a fight for one day. You’re tired, and so you decide to let your eyelids flutter shut and fall into blissful oblivion.

Tagging: (let me know if you want to be tagged, too!) @bellaxgiornata @mattmurdocksscars @ms-murdockswift @your-not-invisible-to-me @shouldbestudying41 @glowstick-lesbian @acharliecoxedfan @roseallisonparker @norestfortheshelbywicked @1988-fiend @loveroftoomanyfandoms @mattkinsella @schneeflocky @harperdoodle @ravenclaw617 @lunaticgurly @mattmurdocksstarlight @ebathory997

#michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella x you #michael kinsella x f!reader #michael kinsella #kin amc #kin rte #michael kinsella angst #x reader #charlie cox #chaos theory

31 notes · View notes

xobrattymoonxo · 5 months

Text

CHAPTER FOUR; Make up

Summary: When Y/n had everything taken from her at such a young age, she wanted to strike revenge. Foster home after foster home Y/n set fires all over the place... and even some people. It wasn't until the number two hero, Endeavor, took her under his wing for a positive image. Y/n meet a boy there, Touya. Touya was the only one who understood her. One day, Touya is rushed to the hospital.....Y/n never saw him again. Endeavor begins to blame Y/n, as all his force is now aimed at her. Baby shouto came shortly after the incident. On Shouto's 7th birthday, y/n was kicked out and forced to live off of nothing. Y/n rummaged the streets of the city until she met a pro hero, snipe. He helped Y/n to better herself and become a great hero. Y/n only has one goal, though....and that's to kill Endeavor. Little did she know her childhood best friend, Touya, has been keeping an eye on her...... And he has other plans for her, hero.

Trigger Warnings: Noncon, dubcon, somnophilia, Yandere, stalking, obsessions creepy behavior, major character death, brutal scenes of violence, arson, setting people on fire, blood, gore

Taglist: Open, dm, send an ask, or comment to be added!

AN: Omfg y'all, I am so sorry this took forever!! I am currently Con crunching so hard. I decided to make 3 cosplays from scratch right before the convention (may 24 -26) This chapter is also really really short but the next one will be fake texts so It will be regular length :3

“I’ll be on my way now, thanks Dad.” Y/n 9id as she walked out the front door.

Y/n walked down the dark street as she felt her phone buzz, It was Rumi asking her whereabouts. Y/n shut off her phone and tucked it back into her pocket.

“A little hero like you shouldn’t be walking the streets alone at this hour? Should you?” Dabi spoke up from behind her.

Y/n jumped at the unexpected voice. She turned on her heels ready to fight.

“Dabi?” She whispered out. “Why the hell are you following me?” She snapped.

Dabi walked up to her slowly and placed his hand on her cheek.

“You’ll see soon enough.” A warp tunnel appeared behind him as he stepped in. It remained open for a few extra seconds like it was encouraging her to step inside. She reached her hand out and pulled back upon hearing her name.

“Y/n?!” It was her dad. She turned to him, fear and curiosity dripping from her face. “Was that….Was that a villain?” He asked ever so cautiously.

“Yeah…. Dabi.” She said. “He’s been following me around.” She said ever so casually.

Snipe looked where the warp was as he pulled her in for a hug. “Cmon, let’s get you home.” He whispered.

Y/n had been avoiding Keigo and Rumi for three days now. She didn’t leave her parents' home.

A loud knock appeared at the front door. Y/n sighed as she went to answer, upon opening the door, the person had left. There was flowers on the doorstep with a small card that read “You cant hide forever.” Y/n looked around outside trying to find the source.

“Y/n! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Rumi yelled from the sidewalk. She ran up the front porch and smiled.

“What do you want, Rumi?” Y/n asked, annoyed.

“It’s been 3 days since Keigo or I have heard from you!”

“Funny how you care after talking so much shit on that patio the other day.” Y/n snapped.

Rumi’s eyes widened.

“Y/n…..”

“Save it Rumi.” Y/n turned to walk away as Keigo swooped in and picked her up, lifting her in the sky.

“What the hell Keigo! Put me down!” Y/n demanded.

“We need to talk to you.” He said.

“I don’t care!”

“Then I won’t put you down!” Keigo snapped.

Y/n scuffed. “Fine, we can talk! But on the fucking ground!” Y/n shouted.

Keigo placed her down on the ground as Y/n opened the front door.

“You guys can come in, my parents are not home right now.” The two followed her into the house. She led them to the kitchen table and sat down, motioning for them to do the same.

Before she could speak, Keigo spoke up.

“Look, Y/n. I am sorry for how I reacted… but please try and understand why I didn’t react well. Endeavor is my hero-”

Y/n cut him off.

“He used to be my hero too. Sucks when you find out the truth, right?” y/n sassed.

“I’m sorry, please let me make it up to you.” keigo begged. ‘

Y/n looked between the two and sighed.

“Fine, only cause you guys are like my only friends.” She said with a laugh.

“We are going to get some lunch, you wanna come?” Keigo asked Y/n.

She nodded as the three stood up and left the house.

The three walked down to Y/n’s favorite restaurant down the street. She couldn’t help but feel as if someone was watching them walk there.

Masterlist

Taglist @weirdovictor @fiestynatureweeb @venusplan @itsmearia01 @punkandnerdy9

#tw dark fic #tw noncon #bnha yandere #bnha dark content #yandere dabi #mha dabi #dabi x female reader #bnha dabi #dabi x reader

17 notes · View notes

futureslaps · 1 year

Text

The Captive - Chapter 27

Chapter 26 Chapter 28

Not too much in this chapter, but still some angst!

Enjoy💙

“Norm? This is Jake. Do you copy?”

Jake held his breath as he stared down at the radio in his hand. It was late in the night, but he had to get Norm and Max to them as soon as possible. Spider needed human medicine if he was going to heal properly.

After a few seconds, he pressed the talk button on the radio again.

“Norm? Come in. Are you there?”

This time, after a few seconds, a voice crackled from the other end.

“Jake? Is that you? What’s going on? Did something happen with Neteyam?”

“Norm. It’s Spider…”

Jake’s worlds failed him for a moment. He felt so guilty with what had happened. And now, he had to tell Norm everything. The thought somehow made everything feel more real, more…

“Jake? What happened? Is Spider okay?”

The voice shook Jake out of his thoughts.

“Spider…he…he got shot.” Jake finally got the words out, his ears drooping despite knowing the human on the other end couldn’t see him.

“What?! Where’d the bullet hit him? What’s his condition?” The panic was evident in Norm’s voice, even over the radio’s poor quality. Jake grimaced.

“He’s…stable for now…but he needs treatment. Human treatment. He got hit in the right shoulder really bad.”

Jake paused for a moment before adding a key detail.

“And it wasn’t a bullet…it was an arrow.”

A loaded silence passed after the revelation. Thankfully, when Norm spoke again, he didn’t press Jake on it.

“What got hit? Any arteries?”

“The Tsahik says no…” Jake explained. “But it went through his shoulder, bone and all. He needs medicine, he needs blood, probably some surgery, and…”

He didn’t want to bring up the possibility of what else might be needed.

“Just bring everything you can think of, okay?”

“Copy that. You said it was the right shoulder, correct?”

“Right shoulder, arrowhead right through the joint. Entry and exit.” Jake confirmed the details almost robotically.

“Alright, Jake. We’ll be airborne as soon as we can. See you soon.”

When the radio went quiet again, Jake let out a long sigh. He knew Norm and Max were glad to help, but it still felt painful having to bring them in again. Less than two weeks ago, he’d made an eerily similar call for Neteyam. Yet another child he was supposed to protect.

All he could do now was try to mend his mistakes.

After taking a moment to calm himself, Jake started making his way back to the infirmary. It was a quiet, peaceful night, aside from the faintly audible commotion from his destination. It almost felt inappropriate, given what had just happened.

As he walked through the night, he caught sight of Kiri. She was in Spider’s usual sleeping spot, slumped over and peacefully sleeping, clutching a blanket.

She’d nodded off waiting for Spider, and apparently her distance from the beach meant she hadn’t woken from the fight.

Jake stood still, watching for a moment. Should he wake her? She’d take the news hard…

He decided against it. She’d be better off with a full night of sleep.

He took another glance, before continuing his walk to the infirmary, taking deep breathes to steel himself.

Finally, he reached the large Marui and stepped inside.

Ronal was knelt over Spider’s pale figure, carefully inspecting the affected area, the same as she’d been when Jake had left. He slowly, almost hesitantly walked up next to the Tsahik.

“I called my sky-person friends. They’re on the way with medicine for him.” He explained quickly. Ronal hummed in acknowledgment, but remained fixated on Spider, gently feeling his right shoulder, making sure to avoid the bandaged areas. The way the bones were moving…

Jake felt slightly sick.

“How…is he?”

Ronal kept feeling the bones for a moment, then finally leaned back slightly, her expression unreadable.

“The impact has shattered his shoulder.”

“How bad is it?”

For the first time since she’d started treating Spider, Ronal let an emotion besides pure focus creep onto her face.

“For a Na’vi, perhaps there would be a way. But he is a sky-person. His arms are small, and…fragile.”

She hesitated for a moment.

“I…cannot save the arm. The damage is too great.”

Jake felt his heart drop all over again.

No.

That couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t…

He turned back to Ronal.

“There has to be some way.”

The Tsahik looked back at him, her eyes filled with regret.

“I am sorry, Toruk Makto. It…would be best if we amputated before…”

“No!” Jake blurt out. He wouldn’t accept this.

“Norm and Max…they’ll find a way!” He was trying to convince himself as much as Ronal. “They can figure something out. They’ll know what to do…”

Ronal looked down, clearly conflicted.

“The more we wait, the risks will grow…”

“Just…give it a chance. Please.” Jake pleaded.

In truth, he had no idea if the scientists could do what Ronal couldn’t, but the thought of amputating Spider’s arm, and having to tell him when he woke…

“Let them see him at least. Maybe they could figure something out. If not…then…we’ll do what has to be done.”

Ronal pursed her lips. She looked down for a moment, then nodded.

“You have much faith in your sky-person friends.”

“If anyone could figure this out, Norm could.” Jake spoke quietly.

Ronal considered the possibility.

“I do not understand the sky-people’s medicines. But I hope you are right, for the child’s sake.”

Jake nodded back. Slowly, he made his way to Spider’s side.

The boy was still completely unconscious, his breathing slowed. But he was pale, and the various bandages, ointments, and splint on his arm and shoulder spoke for themselves.

Jake gingerly placed a hand on his chest, feeling the human’s heart beating. He looked up to Neteyam, also unconscious a few yards away.

Two people Jake was supposed to protect.

The avatar closed his eyes. He thought a silent prayer.

Forgive me, Eywa. I have failed…twice to protect those I should. Please, do not make either of them pay the price I owe.

Jake thought for a moment.

I know I can be better. Help me see. Help me help them.

He took in a shaky breath.

Help me help my family. I don’t know what to do.

It hurt to admit, even to himself, but he didn’t. He didn’t know how he’d ever explain what just happened to Lo’ak, to Tuk, especially to Kiri. He didn’t know what he’d tell Spider when he woke up.

And everything with Quaritch…

And Neytiri…

It was all so much to process. So much to deal with. Jake was surprised his head didn’t just explode right there…

As he kept his hand on Spider, he heard movement by the entrance.

“Toruk Makto.”

Jake opened his eyes, turning to face a Metkayina warrior.

“What is it?”

“The Olo’eyktan wishes to speak with you. We are with the Demon.”

Jake nodded.

“I’ll be there in a moment.”

He turned and gave Spider and Neteyam one more look as he braced himself.

Eywa, help me.

He took a deep breath, then walked back out of the infirmary, slower than before. Exhaustion was starting to get to him. Only a few steps away, on a patch of sand, knelt Quaritch.

When they had moved Spider off the beach, the Colonel had still been behaving strangely, insisting that he should come with. Jake had balked at the idea, but, strangely, Ronal accepted. She wasn’t naïve, though, and a strong escort of warriors had ensured that Quaritch couldn’t try anything. The same escort now surrounded him, with a spearpoint levied at the Recom from eight different directions. Several other warriors were alert nearby, as if Quaritch could somehow still break free from his current situation.

Tonowari stood among the warriors, taller than all of them. He greeted Jake as he approached.

“Toruk Makto, I see you.”

“I see you, Olo’eyktan.” Jake responded back, almost sighing the words in a mix of exhaustion and stress.

“Before anything, I would like to offer my sincerest apology.” Tonowari began. “However the Demon escaped; it should not have been possible. The guards that were on-duty have been reprimanded, but I shall take ultimate responsibility.”

Jake thought about how to reply. He didn’t know how Quaritch had escaped. He’d been too…in the moment to think up possibilities. For now, he settled on nodding in acknowledgment.

Now, it was time for the big question.

“What do we do with him?” Jake asked, gesturing to the defeated Colonel.

“You have captured him twice now. Under my watch, he escaped. I have no right to say. The choice is yours, Toruk Makto.”

Jake paused.

The choice.

What choices did he have?

Jake took a few steps closer to Quaritch and knelt down to look at the man’s face. The Recom was a wreck. He’d already come out of the prison looking unkempt and haggard. Now, his blue skin was a tapestry of light and deep cuts, bruises, bloodstains, dirt, and sand. Dried blood was pooled under his nose, and around a quite deep cut in his lip. One eye was practically swollen shut, compliments of a hit from the butt of a Metkayina spear.

More than one of the warriors had tried to goad the Colonel into attacking during their march to the infirmary, but the man had been unresponsive to the attempts. Walking at an even pace as various insults, then attacks, were thrown at him. A look of quiet contempt, the same one he was wearing now, had been his only reaction. He had remained silent since they’d left the beach.

His one good eye stared back at Jake, the look in it unreadable. Maybe from the various wounds.

“What do I do with you…?” Jake repeated the question out loud in English.

He could end this all right now. By escaping, and attacking Jake, Quaritch had effectively renounced his protection under the laws of Eywa. Jake had the full right to execute the Colonel on the spot. He squeezed his knife in it’s sheath…

A day ago, Jake would have jumped at the opportunity. He’d practically dreamed of a moment like this.

So why was he hesitating now?

The events of the night replayed in his mind.

Finding Spider with the Colonel.

The way the kid had talked about Quaritch after Jake had saved him.

The fact that Quaritch had come after Spider, trying to convince Jake to hand the boy over.

The way Quaritch had behaved after Spider had been shot.

Jake could remember it clearly. The worry, the care, it had seemed genuine, despite the man it was apparently coming from. It almost seemed like an illusion. But it had happened.

Jake looked a little closer at Quaritch, trying to see if there was something else beneath the expression of hatred. But, aside from the typical signs of exhaustion, there was nothing. Whatever had overcome the Colonel had apparently subsided. But Jake couldn’t forget.

Who was Spider to Quaritch, really?

Who was Quaritch to Spider?

Jake frowned.

Somehow, in some way, it didn’t feel right to kill the Recom right now. Not while these questions lingered. Not while Jake was still trying to process the events of the night. Not while…something. There was something else Jake couldn’t quite name, but it was there.

Whatever the case, Jake had made up his mind. Whether he was making the right choice, time would tell.

“He will not die tonight.” He finally announced to Tonowari and the gathered warriors. “The Demon will still have his trial.”

Tonowari nodded sternly.

“You are strong to be able show such mercy, even to a being like him. Your wish will be respected. No further harm will come to him until the trial.”

“Where should he…go?” Jake asked. He presumed the previous arrangement was a no-go. Tonowari had the same sense.

“He will not escape again. In the five days until his trial, he will be kept tied in a Marui in the center of the village, in the open, under constant guard, and, under all our watchful gazes.”

Jake nodded.

Tonowari nodded to the warriors, and they quickly moved to relocate the Colonel, standing him up and prodding him forward. Yet again, he offered no resistance, but Jake didn’t miss the quick glance he gave the infirmary before he was marched off.

There had been something more in that gaze.

As Jake watched the group depart, he heard Tonowari approach him.

“Toruk Makto, I had hoped to speak with you alone. Now is a good time, if you are willing.”

“What is it?”

Tonowari looked away for a moment, before explaining.

“I spoke with the warriors about the events on the beach. I trust you are aware of the arrow that struck the boy Spider.”

Jake nodded, closing his eyes. He had a feeling he knew where this was going.

“And you are aware of who shot it?”

Jake nodded again, unable to meet Tonowari’s gaze.

“You understand the implications? You told me this child was in your family’s care.”

Jake sighed.

“I’ll…I’ll handle this.” He finally managed to muster a reply.

“See that you do. Otherwise I will have to...step in.” Tonowari spoke sternly, before softening his tone. “If you need help during this…troubling time, do not hesitate to ask.”

“I’ll take care of it but thank you.” Jake left out that he did need help, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell Tonowari he felt like he was running blind with his own family. He couldn’t bring himself to unload all his family’s…baggage on the man.

Tonowari gave him a nod back, and left. However, he turned back around after a few steps.

“If you do not mind me asking…what is the Demon’s relation to Spider? My mate told me he claimed the child as his son and was…soft with him.”

Jake pursed his lips, almost smirking slightly.

“It’s…complicated. I’m asking myself the same question.”

Tonowari looked at Jake curiously, but said nothing more, finally leaving.

Jake sighed as he sat on the woven bridge, finally alone. He turned to face the ocean, watching with bleary eyes as the horizon slowly began to brighten with Alpha Centauri’s rise. He was utterly exhausted by the last few hours. Broken, even. But the brightening sky was a reminder that this hard day had only just begun.

Poor Kiri doesn’t even know yet...

Hope you liked the chapter! Like I said, there isn’t too much going on in this one, mostly just setting up what’s coming next. Hope I sill managed to deliver on angst though (with some small bits of hope sprinkled in...)

As always, TYSM for reading 💙

Taglist: @yesthisismycurrenthyperfixation @onlyreadz @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @buzzing-honeybee

#Spider is hurt bad 😭#avatar #avatar 2 #atwow #avatar the way of water #Jake sully #spider socorro #miles quaritch #recom quaritch #avatar spider #avatar jake #avatar quaritch #avatar kiri

76 notes · View notes

asshlyyyy · 2 years

Text

Fairytale

Series Warnings: Language, fake relationship, lying, drinking, major depressive disorder, mommy issues. Mentions of occasionally sexula interactions/ wording. Maybe eventual smut. Individual chapter warnings will appear as needed.

Masterlist | Next Part

Chapter 1: Maid of Honor

Message from Jess at 10:23 AM Hey, Y/n! The girls and I are getting together for some brunch today! There's a chair with your name on it! Your response at 10:26 AM God, that sounds amazing! Just that my boyfriend and I already have plans for lunch :( Message from Jess at 10:28 AM That's okay! We have to meet up soon! I miss you girly! Your response at 10:30 AM I miss you too :(

Sometimes you felt bad doing all this lying, but it wasn't like it was harming anyone. You just didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings. Truth was... you couldn't find the motive to leave your house. Sure, it seemed unhealthy not to want to leave your home. However, you honestly just... you couldn't bare it. So, you made up the excuse that you had a boyfriend. But Y/n, don't you have a job? Of course, you had a job. You were just lucky enough to work from home.

You often times blamed it on your major depressive disorder. Now, it has calmed down over the years since you were first diagnosed with it. However, every day it still felt like a chain that kept you home. The only times you left were when your sister forced you out of the house. She couldn't always do that though. She lived in a different state, and honestly, you didn't blame her. California could get a bit crazy. Especially with all of these wannabe influencers.

With that being said. You used the boyfriend excuse plenty of times. In fact, you pretty much lost count. Now, this is a very normal excuse, especially when you have plans already with them... So, no one would question it. Yet, the only issue was... it was all a lie. You didn't have a boyfriend. Like hell! You couldn't even leave your damn house. How in hell would you get a boyfriend? Exactly, you couldn't.

Four years ago you hit the darkest moment of your life. The lowest of the low, and you kept it to yourself. You only really felt happy with you were with your family members. Four years is how long you've been using that goddamn excuse. You were diagnosed three and a half years ago. You went to your doctor, who sent you to a therapist who gave you the news. You met with them about once a week. So... once a week for three and a half years. That's... four times a month... which is forty-eight times a year... then 144 for three years... Plus twenty-four... that's... you've met with your therapist so far 168 times.

The major question is... did it help? Yes, for the most part, it did. For the most part, you knew that you had to work on it yourself. Which you have been. Your therapist suggested making a video diary a week. Sitting down and just going over everything that happened that week and how you felt. It was nice, and they held their home on your laptop. You haven't... you haven't reached that sense of content enough to go back and watch them.

As you stepped out of your shower, you wrapped a towel around your body. You had to make a video diary today, and you knew that you should wait till the end of the day... But the start of the week was Sunday, and so was the end of the week. You always recorded these things on Sundays... it just... it just worked. You grabbed a free towel and started to dry your hair, as the familiar tone of your ringer went off.

With curiosity in your mind, you made your way over to your bedroom where your phone rested. Flipping it over you heard your sister's name and smiled. You answered the phone and quickly put it on speaker.

"Is that Amelia Mignonette Grimaldi Thermopolis Renaldo princess and heir to the throne of Genovia?" You teased as you answered the call. You could hear your sister's laugh from the other end. You smiled and pressed forward with drying your hair.

"Right, Y/n," she continued to laugh, "I have a question for you."

"Hit me," you encouraged her to go on. You looked in the mirror at your messy wet hair and tossed the towel into your bathroom. You'll pick that up once you're off the call.

"So, as you know I'm getting married in a couple of months. Three months exactly, and this may be last minute... But I have a huge huge huge question." She reminded you. Ah yes, your sister met her fiance Nicholas... yes you heard that right. He may very much be Nicholas Deveraux. You were very much all for Mia and Nicholas ending up together in that movie.

"Yes, of course, you would never forgive me if I forgot." You reminded her as you started to dig through your drawers. You just needed your comfy sweats and long-sleeved crewneck.

"I wanted to ask... if you could be my maid of honor...?" You gasped lightly and ran to your phone.

"No way! I would love to!" You heard your sister eeeee at your response. You found yourself joining her as you picked up the phone and pressed it against her ear. "I would be honored."

"This is great news, Y/n! Oh my gosh, oh! And bring your boyfriend! Everyone is dying to meet him, and not to mention... Nic would be very honored if he would be his best man." Your mouth gapped open, and your eyes widened. Did you hear that right? Someone wanted your imaginary boyfriend to be their best man?

"B-best man? I-I mean aren't they supposed to be a relative or a friend? Not a complete stranger?" You struggled to get your words out. Well, you struggled in general. You felt your heart just about to stop at any moment.

"Well, Nic and I talked, and we knew you would find a way to excuse your boyfriend from coming... This way, we knew he would feel bad. So, yes... Nic wants your boyfriend as his best man." She explained. This was that moment you were scared of. The moment that would give out you... This was the moment. FUCK.

"Okay yeah... that works... Yeah... When do we have to be there?" You asked. You were honestly hoping she would say a week before the wedding. Because then that would give you plenty of time to find someone to be your fake boyfriend.

"Well, I want your help during this whole time... And I know you work from home so that's amazing. Maybe in a week or two? Bring your boyfriend as well. We all need to get to know him, and this is the perfect time to do it." With every word that came out of her mouth, the more you felt a weight on your chest. It got harder to breathe and honestly all you wanted to do... was... well... you wanted to disappear.

"R-right well... I will see you then... Bye! Love you!" And you quickly hung up. You placed your phone down and immediately got under your sheets. You pulled them up and over your head and closed your eyes. Think of a better place. A place where you never made the boyfriend excuse. A place where you are happy... Go there... Go there.

Now, your sister always brought you happiness. She never pushed you or even laid out her troubles on you. Your brother was the same way. Your family was a very caring and loving family. They also respected everyone's privacy. So, when it came to them finding out about your boyfriend... They didn't push. They pushed a few times, but that's because you never even gave them a name. You couldn't even think of a name for your imaginary boyfriend! Maybe it was because you knew this would happen.

Yet, every holiday... they would ask you to bring your boyfriend. You would always decline and say that he couldn't make it due to prior engagements... or that he was simply sick. You never shared anything more about your said boyfriend. Sure, it looked a bit suspicious... but they respected you and you appreciated that.

After you found yourself, you got out of your bed. You made your bed and moved over to your desk. You sat down with a huff and lifted open your laptop. You pulled open the video recorder and started to record. You picked at your nails and bit at them, a habit you picked up on. It wasn't that it was out of nerves... it was more or less... it was your fidget.

"I received some bad news today... Well, bad for me..." You let out a breath and turned to look into the camera. You never spoke about your 'boyfriend' on a video before. Your therapist was the only one who would see these, so it wasn't like you were showing it to all your friends and family.

"As you know, my sister Mia got engaged a while back and she asked me to be her maid of honor. I was... well... I was honored," you chuckled lightly at your terrible joke. "Which is great news, don't get me wrong... but... she and her fiance, Nic, have decided to have my boyfriend as the best man."

"I never spoke about him before and it's quite literally because he is a lie. I made him up four years ago as an excuse to get out of things. And, I just kept using that excuse over and over again that everyone thinks I have this mysterious boyfriend that I don't like talking about." You started to ramble on.

"I'm supposed to leave in a week or two with my boyfriend to go back home. The only problem is... I have no boyfriend. So, now what? I ask my male friends, whom I have used the very same excuse on. No. It just wouldn't work. I made this excuse up so that I wouldn't have to explain to my friends why I don't want to hang out." You pulled out your phone and started to look through your contacts.

"Mike is gay... and has had the excuse used on him. Liam, John, Cody, some of these guys are just taken. Yet, I have all used the same excuse on. There's just no way I could ring one up and explain to them why I lied to them and all our friends." You paused as your eyes found a name that you haven't spoken to in a long time.

Austin Butler. You first met him when you first moved to California. He was the absolute kindest man you have ever met. He was actually your neighbor who lived right across the hall. You two haven't spoken in a long time. In fact, over four years ago, so in theory... You have never used the boyfriend excuse on him. Then again... sparking up a conversation with him after so long would be weird... What if he had a girlfriend? He had one when you met him... What makes you think he isn't in that same relationship?

"Austin Butler... he's one I haven't used it on... He's one I haven't talked to in so long... I mean... Hell... I don't even know what happened between us. It wasn't like it was some big falling out. We just got busy, and we stopped texting... stopped calling, and eventually, we stopped hanging out." You started to speak aloud.

"I moved to California a little over six years ago. I was just twenty-one... I had just gotten a job as a physiological criminal analyst. Which, is a job I still have today. I've talked about it a bit, but... I basically analyze people. See, why they have committed the crimes. I listen to tapes, and I read transcripts. All work is easy to do remotely. If there is a big case, then I have to go in person and meet with them personally. You catch the drift."

"Austin lived right across the hall from me. We met the first day I was moving in, and he offered to help carry my things to my apartment. He is such a nice guy. We got everything inside, we had some water and talked. I learned that he is an actor. We exchanged numbers and he left. We started to text continuously, and eventually, I met his girlfriend Vanessa. She seemed very nice, and honestly... God, she was hot. I may be straight, but I can appreciate a woman when I see one."

"He moved out roughly... a year and a half after we met. We still talked after he met, but without that... running into each other in the halls... we talked less and less as time went on. Till we eventually stopped talking. I thought about texting him a bit afterward, but all thought of that left the door soon after. I don't know, it just wouldn't feel right to text him just because I need him for a favor. It just sounds wrong."

You placed your phone down on the desk and looked out your floor-to-ceiling window. You let out a breath and thought about what you could do. Maybe you could just tell the truth... but that would just mess up your sister's wedding. Your fake boyfriend is supposed to be the best man. If there is no fake boyfriend, then there is no best man.

"Do you think someone on Tinder would be willing to go along with it?" You asked no one in particular. You knew the chances of that were very slim unless you somehow found the right guy... but you also knew that you were going to have to kiss this said fake boyfriend. So, it had to be someone you knew and were comfortable with, but goddamn you really did not want to both Austin. You turned back towards the camera and smiled softly.

"Besides this whole deal happening just now... my week was fine, and I need to go. I only have so long until I have to figure this out." You said and ended the recording. You titled it the day's date and sent it off to your therapist. You closed the laptop and picked up your phone once more.

You stood up and pulled up Austin's contact. You took a big gulp and pressed the call button. You placed it against your ear and stood up. You wrapped your arm around yourself and started to walk around the apartment. The pacing was something that... somehow eased you. Yes, quite weird, but you felt that if you kept moving nothing could affect you as much. Not to mention, you felt like curling up in a ball and crying. You didn't even know if Austin still had your number... it is very likely he would've just deleted it and forgotten all about you.

"Y/n?" You heard his voice. You felt your body stiffen. You weren't exactly expecting him to pick up. Let alone remember you!

"Austin... hey."

Mutual Taglist: @darlinboypresley, @emmymaehereeeeee, @venus-haze, @austinstyles

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fic #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler fluff #asshlyyyy writes #austin butler angst #austin butler fandom #austin butler imagine #austin butler imagines

250 notes · View notes

emotionalcadaver · 6 months

Text

Part 19: In the Bleak Midwinter

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Grace Burgess x OC

Summary: There is the selling of the jewels still to be dealt with, as well as some nasty business involving the other members of the Shelby family.

Word Count: 3,547

Notes: We are finally at the end of this part! I know it's taken me a long time to get all this out, and I am truly sorry for that! Hopefully, I will be able to get back onto an at least semi-consistent posting schedule. And stay tuned for more Tommy x Lucy! There's a whole bunch yet to come, both for this series, and for some AUs I've been working on.

Thank you again so much to everyone for reading and commenting on my work! It means the world to me!

Warnings for depictions of violence.

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Part

Chapter 26: The King's Shilling

The jewels inside the bags rustled, a few precious pierces clinking together with her steps as Lucy followed Tommy down the dirt path. Waiting for them, standing beside a man seated at a tiny little desk, a case clutched in her gloved hands, was Tatiana. Tommy dumped his two bags onto the desk, then reached back to take the ones Lucy was also carrying. They were selling everything they’d stolen to Tatiana, except for the jewels Lucy had picked out. Those, Tommy had insisted, were hers.

While Tatiana and Tommy talked, the man at the desk set to work analyzing the jewels’ value. Lucy kept an eye on him, to make sure that there was no funny business. After all the trouble those jewels had caused, they needed to get their money’s worth.

After the man confirmed the jewels, Tommy took the case from Tatiana, popping it open and examining the bills inside.

“Where will you go?” he asked as he counted.

“Vienna,” a smile, that looked like she was almost trying to suppress, crossed Tatiana’s face. “There is a man waiting for me.”

Tommy chuckled. “Poor man.”

Lucy narrowed her eyes, further examining Tatiana’s face. There was a slight giddiness to her features at just the mention of the man. She cocked her head, wondering if that flash of something that had danced across the Duchess’s face really was love.

Maybe.

She looked over at Tommy, counting the notes in the case at her side.

It was more likely than it may have seemed.

Afterall, everything that had transpired between them and Tatiana had been just business. Nothing more.

And perhaps Tatiana deserved more credit than she had initially given to her.

Satisfied by the count in the case, Tommy flicked the clasps on it closed and picked it up. He hesitated a moment, then held out his hand for Tatiana to shake. She clasped it in her expensively gloved hand, then took a step forward, plucking his cigarette from his lips and kissing him. When she was finished, she leaned back with a smirk. Tommy just stared at her for a long moment, and then turned away, wholly unaffected.

“You too, lovely,” Tatiana crooned, slinking two steps towards Lucy, resting her hands on her shoulders before slanting her mouth over hers. She distantly heard the posh man sitting at the desk give out a small, incensed gasp. Internally rolling her eyes at the reaction, she leaned into the kiss a little just to spite him.

“That is how Russians say goodbye,” Tatiana purred once she stepped back. Lucy snorted, shooting a look over at Tommy, who was watching them with a somewhat bemused expression.

“Maybe we should pay a visit to Russia sometime.”

He snorted, jerking his head towards the car. “Come on, love.”

She bit back a snicker when she noticed just how red the man seated at the desk had gone, staring pointedly at the bags of riches in front of him. They got only a few paces away when Tatiana called after them.

“Also, five-thousand pounds for the sex.”

Tommy froze. Then spun on his heel and stomped back to the desk, throwing the case atop it and flinging it open, pulling out a stack of notes and handing them to her.

“And five for helping you through the grief of losing your wife.”

Lucy went stiff, jaw clenching. And here she was just starting to like the woman a little.

Tatiana’s dark-lined eyes sparkled. Tommy stared at her for a long, unimpressed moment, then slammed the case shut and picked it up again. He got right into her face, voice low.

“You didn’t even come close.”

Lucy would’ve clapped, if it had felt appropriate.

Tommy spun away, and she fell into step beside him, picking their way carefully over the uneven road to the car. There was the hum of the man and Tatiana’s voices behind them.

“Nice comeback.” Lucy commented to Tommy in a low voice. He shrugged.

“Thanks.”

There was the earth-shattering bang of a gunshot from behind them, and she jumped, hand going into her coat for her revolver before she entirely had time to process what was happening. For a terrible moment, she thought that someone was shooting at them. Tommy dropped the case, pulling his revolver from his coat and half stepping in front of her as if to shield her from any impending danger.

The man seated at the desk was dead, fresh blood dripping from his head to mix with the dirt. Tatiana had a gun clutched in her hand while she gathered up the bags of jewels in her arms. When she spotted them both defensively pointing their drawn weapons in her direction, she smiled.

“At home, these jewels saw way worse. That’s why they are all cursed. As are we, Mr. Shelby,” she crooned, the words chilling Lucy’s blood.

Not that she was wrong. If the past few months had proved anything to her, it was that they most certainly were cursed with something–bad luck, misfortune, sorrow…it didn’t matter. The outcome was the same.

Slowly, after sharing a look, Lucy and Tommy lowered their guns. Tatiana was many things, but she wasn’t a threat to them.

At her invitation that they look her up if they were ever in Vienna, Lucy cringed. They waited until she was walking away to her own car before turning their back on her again. Tommy loaded the case into the backseat, then started up the car.

“Well, we know now to avoid Vienna at all costs,” Lucy mumbled, rubbing at her forehead. “I think I’ve had more than enough of her crazy to last me a lifetime.”

Tommy hummed in agreement, eyes fixed on the road. He’d been quiet and preoccupied the whole day. Not that she could blame him.

Wrapping her arms around his bicep, she squished herself into his side, hoping that somehow that would help.

Consequences had come knocking. And the ugliness that they would bring was about to begin.

∗ ∗ ∗

She finished stacking the bills all out onto the table, arranging them carefully and specifically based on amount and the person they would be going to. The door opened, Tommy’s heavy footfalls easy to identify even before she looked up at him.

“Hey; everything’s ready here,” she said, going to him, straightening one of the many chairs she’d set up in front of his desk on her way. “Where’s Charlie?”

“Sleeping upstairs.”

She nodded. “How long until everyone arrives?”

“Uh…” he checked his pocket watch. “Five minutes or so.”

She watched him carefully, taking in the bags under his eyes and the slight slump to his shoulders. Taking a step forward, she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest. His big hands landed tenderly on her shoulder blades.

“It’ll be okay…”

“They might try to eviscerate me.”

“They’ll have to get through me.”

He chuckled, petting her hair in gratefulness, then sighed. “I mean it. Things could get really ugly.”

Leaning back, she looked up into those sad blue eyes, heart aching that there wasn’t anymore that she could really do to make any of it better. “I know,” he leaned his face into her hand when she cupped his cheek, skin warm beneath her chilled skin. “No matter what happens…I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know. Thank you.”

There was the creak and thud of the front door opening, then the hum of voices as members of the family started to arrive. Lucy gave him one last squeeze before stepping away.

“Here we go.”

He went to sit in the huge chair behind the massive desk, his arms spread wide, palms flat against the wood. Lucy perched on the edge of the desk to his left, torso twisted so she could watch the family members start to file in, slowly taking their seats. Her eyes tracked each of them carefully. Polly was eyeing Tommy with unhidden suspicion; it was a little surprising that she had not yet raised all hell over Michael being the one to kill Hughes, but perhaps, given the circumstances, she understood that their options had been limited.

Linda and Esme entered together, Esme holding her swaddled newborn to her chest. Linda was cradling her swollen belly, eyes fixating on the cash stacked on the desk, hunger in her gaze.

Lucy scoffed quietly under her breath, turning away and lighting a cigarette. She was going to need it.

After all, she was the only one other than Tommy in that room who knew what was about to happen.

Once everyone was seated, it began. Tommy started off with an apology, to all who he’d doubted and accused during Charlie’s abduction. The stony looks and pursed lips that met his words sent a shot of rage flooding Lucy’s blood.

As if any of them would have behaved any more gracefully had they been in his position.

She’d never forgotten the way Polly had lashed out at her when Michael had been arrested by Campbell. At least Tommy had apologized for his outburst. Lucy knew she would never get anything of the sort from Polly for her words or the humiliation she’d caused her when in the fits of her rage.

At Linda’s acceptance of the three-thousand pounds Tommy had added to the cash already owed to her and Arthur in exchange for her forgiveness, Lucy couldn’t stop the small, harsh laugh that broke from her lungs. Everyone stared at her, but she had no more energy, no more fucks left to give in regards to what any of the them thought about her, just shaking her head and blowing smoke from her cigarette up towards the ceiling.

It did not stop there. Esme was not so quick to accept Tommy’s apology, snarling about the additional deaths John now had on his conscience.

“I suppose that you would have preferred that we risk Charlie’s death, rather than those of a couple of strangers, eh?” Lucy mumbled. Esme turned wide eyes onto her, mouth open to argue, but Tommy spoke over her before it could turn into a row, offering a stack of cash to her and John. His hand rested gently on Lucy’s knee, squeezing once. She got him a regretful look. As if he didn't already have enough problems without her stirring up more strife.

Sorry.

He blinked back at her, squeezed her knee again. It’s okay.

More money was handed out. Charlie, Curly, and Johnny all took theirs happily without a word, but there was a little trouble with Lizzie, who Tommy set the money in front of with a soft whisper of her name. Lucy glanced over at the tall, dark haired woman just in time to see her face contort in hurt and rage, seizing the roll of cash and tossing it back across the table towards them. Tommy didn’t say anything, watching it roll across the glossy wood. His eyes darted back to Lucy’s.

Told you she wouldn’t be happy about that.

It’s all we have to offer her.

Her eyes dropped at that. He was right; they couldn’t give Lizzie what she truly wanted. But at least, with the money, they could give her something. After all, she had helped. She probably didn’t realize just how much. On the nights when they were both too broken to breathe, their pain so entwined and shared that they were falling apart together with no way of stopping it. She gave them the comfort they needed, a distraction from the grief that was just enough to keep them from collapsing into ruin and uselessness.

She deserved some sort of thanks for that.

But Tommy soldiered on, beginning to stack the mountain of cash they’d set aside for Michael. It was then that Polly leapt from her seat, protesting, and Tommy’s temper finally snapped.

“What!?” his voice thundered, probably loud enough to echo throughout the whole house. Loud enough to silence even Polly. “This is all I can give you for what you give me,” he held up the bills. “For your hearts,” his eyes swept over the whole family, “and your souls,” his eyes landed on Lucy, and she felt tears prick momentarily at the corners of her eyes.

Her sweet Devil. How much he loved them all. It tore her apart how none of the others seemed to be able to see it.

He swallowed, and looked back at Polly. “Yesterday, I nearly lost my son. You should fucking understand that.”

Oh, was it satisfying to hear him throw that back in her face. Because of all of them, Polly should have at the very least been able to sympathize. And yet she seemed to be just as eager to spitefully judge as the rest of them. As if she hadn’t had a truly magnificent meltdown of her own when she thought Michael was being taken away from her again.

The rest of Tommy’s speech was truly magnificent, and she felt her heart swell with pride for him as he finally, finally called them on a fraction of the abhorrent behavior they had showcased of the past few months.

Years, technically, but for the moment she was content to focus on their more recent actions.

Fucking ungrateful leeches, that was what she had once called them when speaking with Grace. And she stood by it. Even years later, that feeling had only grown. All they did was take, and take, and take, and offer…what, exactly, in return?

Gratefulness? Certainly not. Love? She would not call the way that the Shelbys treated Tommy as a reflection of love in any form. Support? It her who held Tommy while he sobbed into her neck. It was her who cradled him in her arms and stroked his hair when the nightmares caused him to wake up screaming. It was her who gave him affection, who tried to make him laugh, who took care of him when he couldn’t take care of himself. And she was glad to do it. It would never be a burden or a trouble for her. But where the fuck were the rest of them? Out gleefully spending the money he made for them, all the while bitching and complaining about every little thing he did.

John had never once apologized for his part in setting off the actions that led to Grace’s death. Polly had never apologized for opening her fucking mouth to the wrong person and getting Tommy’s head caved in as a result.

Her finger bit into the wood, gripping the edge of it so tightly that it was a wonder she didn’t leave marks in it. She stared straight ahead, back to the rest of the family and eyes focused on the window. If she looked at any of them, she might’ve tried to kill them.

“And the rest of you, you took the King’s shilling. You took the King’s fucking shilling. When you take the King’s shilling, the King expects you to kill,” Tommy growled. She sensed a twinge of enjoyment in his voice; she could imagine that finally getting this all out was deeply cathartic.

Finally, he was done, straightening with his hands in his pockets. Lucy shot him a proud smile that only he could see.

Good work.

The bashful spark in his eyes was probably something that only she could recognize. Thanks.

“Tommy…” Polly began, and Lucy braced herself. “You’ve had a bad time.”

She nearly choked on the smoke from her cigarette. Understatement of the fucking century, bitch.

“We understand.”

Lucy’s head whipped around, jaw clenching. So many things she could have said to that…but she locked her jaws and bit her tongue.

Now was not the time to be getting into a physical altercation with any of them, especially Polly.

Not with the police on their way.

In a voice like ice, cool and collected, Polly straightened her back and swept her stern eyes around the room, announcing her intention at a later date to propose an alternative future for the company.

Lucy crushed her cigarette between her fingers, she clenched them around it so hard. Now? She really was going to try to wrestle away control of this company from Tommy now?

At the assertion by others in the room that they wanted to hear Polly’s proposal, Lucy rolled her eyes so hard it was a wonder that they didn’t pop right out of her head.

The idea was a little hilarious. She would love to see them try to last a fucking month with Polly truly in charge. At best, they’d stay stagnant. At worst, the whole thing would collapse.

Linda was standing, urging Arthur that it was time to go. He stood, beginning to make his goodbyes. Tommy slumped back down into his chair. When Arthur approached, Lucy slid from her spot seated on the desk, moving to stand by Tommy’s chair protectively, her hand on his shoulder. At his mumbled goodbye, neither she or Tommy acknowledged him. Tommy stared down at the desk, silently. Lucy met him with a vacant, expressionless stare.

Arthur was just moving towards the door, when Tommy finally dropped the bomb that had been hanging above their heads the entire time, though only he and Lucy had known of its presence:

“You can go, but you won’t get far, Arthur.”

Arthur chuckled, clearly not taking him seriously. Lucy cocked her head.

The room went still and quiet, outside of the rumble of Tommy’s voice, as he laid out what Moss had told him last night: warrants had been sent out, for the arrests of Arthur, John, Michael, and Polly.

There was banging at the front door.

The police were here.

People started shouting. Tommy rose from his seat, trying to explain and offer assurances, giving instructions. But no one, except for Lizzie, who started collecting up the money like he requested, was actually listening to him anymore. Lucy sighed, lighting another cigarette.

If they would all have just stopped screaming their heads off and fucking listened, then they would have known that they were all going to be alright.

They all rushed out of the room, probably trying to get out using one of the many side doors. But the police were already inside. There was screaming and the sound of struggling.

Linda suddenly came barreling across the room, hands outstretched to shove and beat at Tommy while she screamed at him. Lucy jammed her arm and shoulder between them, giving a small shove to Linda’s chest. Not enough to knock her off her feet, but enough to send her staggering back a couple of paces. She placed herself between Linda and Tommy with a snarl, muscles tensed and prepared to spring into action, like a snake coiled and ready to strike. Linda screeched in rage.

“Get out of my way, you fucking sinful slut!” she tried to lunge at Lucy, but Arthur caught her by the shoulders before she did, dragging her away towards the door. Before passing through the doorway, Arthur slammed his palm against the wood with a resounding bang.

“Fuck you!”

The words seem to echo throughout the office, now empty save for Tommy and Lucy. Tommy collapsed down into the chair again, head bowed and arms spread wide across the table. Lucy felt her heart twist at seeing him so distressed, reaching out to tenderly stroke the back of his head, the shorn parts of his hair prickling the sensitive skin of her palm.

“Tommy…”

He lifted his head, pushing it closer to her palm for a moment in search of comfort she was more than happy to give. His eyes stared into hers sorrowfully.

They will never forgive me.

She wished she could have offered some sort of solid reassurance regarding that, but she couldn’t. And she was not about to lie to him about it either. So instead she just smoothed her hands over his head, dropping her face to place a kiss in his hair. He sighed, hands resting on her hips and giving them a small squeeze, before rising from his seat.

Side by side, his hand gripped in hers, they walked out of the office and into the sitting room, where the police were in the process of restraining the battling Shelbys against the wall. Looks of pure hatred were shot their way, by both those being arrested and those being simply escorted from the mansion. Linda spat at them as she was dragged past them and out the door.

They watched from the front doorway as they were all loaded into the police vans and taken away. Tommy wore a look of utter misery, his throat convulsing. Lucy coiled her arms around him, holding onto him as tight as she could so he would know that he wasn’t alone.

They stood there, until they could no longer hear the roar of the engines from the vans. Tommy looked around the empty halls of the house. Lucy squeezed him, angling her head.

“Come on,” at her gentle request, he let her guide the way into a sitting room.

All around them, the sudden silence that had overtaken the house seemed to stretch on and on, into eternity.

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Part

Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x oc #peaky blinders #lucy winters #lucy winters x tommy shelby #my ocs #my fanfiction

18 notes · View notes

willshookaspear · 2 months

Text

NOT BY BLOOD | RAFE - 26: keep it in the family.

Snippet of Chapter 26:

"Shit," Josie sighed and jumped out of the van, crossing between the biker and JJ before he could do something rash. Everything had happened so fast. So until now, she hadn't gotten a proper look at the dirt bike, or its driver. But as the helmet came off she realized. Rage burnt through her like wildfire.

"What the fuck Rafe? We could've hit you!" she yelled and strode over to him. His buzzed head was sweaty from wearing the hot helmet. Casually, he brushed ran a hand through his hair as he looked at Josie.

"You're needed at home," was all Rafe said. He licked some sweat from his upper lip and nodded towards JJ. "Leave your dog. Family only."

"What's going on?" Josie asked, suspicion coating her face. Rafe didn't look like something bad had happened. He looked completely calm. But then again, Sarah always claimed he was a borderline sociopath. He ignored her question.

"Just get on the bike, would you?" he said and swung his leg over his bike. He squinted towards the sun as he wrapped his hands around the handle, waiting for her.

"She's not going anywhere with you, man," JJ scoffed but Rafe just sighed impatiently.

"Come on. You know I could've let Callum finish you, and I didn't. You should be lucky you got away with a concussion, Pogue. This doesn't concern you," he said and gestured between himself and Josie, who cursed at them both under her breath.

"Actually it does," JJ said and took a step closer to Josie, as if marking his territory. "Not that it's any of your business."

"Oh, oh okay," Rafe chuckled mockingly and stretched out his helmet in Josie's direction. Josie sighed and looked disapprovingly at Rafe, at his incredible confidence that she would do as he said and come with him. Of course she would. If there was something wrong at Tannyhill, she needed to go. But he just had to be so fucking smug about it. She ripped the helmet out of his outstretched hand and turned to JJ, who looked at her in equal parts disbelief and disappointment.

"I'm just gonna check if everything's alright," she said reassuringly and stroked his arm. "It'll be fine. I'll text you."

JJ returned her smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. They remained cautious as they flicked to Rafe, who just had to open his fucking mouth.

"She'll text you," Rafe echoed restlessly, his tone dismissing the weight of JJ and Josie's conversation like it bored him. "Let's go, Jo," he said and looked at JJ's disapproving expression. Hatred seared from his gaze.

"Don't worry, Pogue. I'll take care of her," Rafe said smugly with a wink.

Josie rolled her eyes and gave Rafe a dead stare. Then she turned around to JJ and pulled him to her by his t-shirt. JJ's hands trailed down her waist, to her hips and to her ass as their tongues interlaced and lips meshed passionately. JJ's eyes were drunk with possession and lust when their lips parted. She gave him a final smile before turning around to Rafe's bike. The smug grin had vanished from Rafe's face and he stared into the distance with squinted eyes as she got on behind him and shoved the helmet over her head.

"That's how you wanna play?" Rafe gritted his teeth as they drove away, his hands clutching the handles so hard that the plastic cut indents into his palms.

"I'm not playing, Rafe. I'm with him," she said simply, ignoring the heat that resonated like electricity from his abs through his shirt and to her hands. Angry at her body's incessant reaction to him, she swallowed hard and loosened her grip on Rafe, checking herself.

AO3: NOT BY BLOOD | RAFE CAMERON by willshookaspear

8 notes · View notes

dearabby1990 · 4 months

Text

Chapter 26: I’d do anything for you

This has without a doubt been the best night over your life Eddie bribed the dj for the night to play what he knows is your song Journey “foolish heart” starts to play he takes your hand & you both give each other a knowingly look “thank you Eds for.. for everything for being you for having me & for tonight I’ll never forget it that’s for sure” he smiles kissing you as you both sway to the beat of the song. The night is getting closer to the end & you all even had a large group dance you Eddie & all the boys. Heading back to the table for the night laughing and talking you all get some punch & sit to shoot the shit when you hear a voice from behind you “Well… well well what do we have here Hawkins own freak table gee I didn’t even think you guys would have the balls to even show your face here you do know nobody wants you here right” your face is on fire & your brain is going a mile a minute flashbacks of that horrible night you wouldn’t dare let Eddie experience that not if you can help it. You see Eddie jaw clenched at this boys words before Gareth speaks “Jason why don’t you just leave us the hell alone & quit being a dick all the fucking time!” Jason looks amused & a laugh rumbles from deep in his chest “ohh & what do we have here be careful gorgeous he they worship the devil & probably want to use you for a human sacrifice” you can’t take another word from this kid & you won’t dare let him ruin Eddie’s prom you jump up from your seat “Listen pencil dick I don’t know what your major malfunction is but if you don’t get the fuck away from us & this table i swear you’ll be sorry!!” Eddie is standing up to keep you from lunging at Jason has he looks at you eyes wide face beet red “You…! You fucking bitch!” Before you knew it your instincts took over your heel landing right between Jason’s legs kicking him in the groin & picking up the server tray from your tables food & smacking it over his head as hard as you could. “Eat shit asshole!!” The boys all stare in bewilderment gareth yells “holy shit!! I think we should get out of here GO GO GO GO!!!” Eddie snatched up your hand making a beeline for the door Steve & robin aren’t far behind all running like bats out of hell while Jason lays on the floor cupping himself in pain and Andy screaming “you fucking freaks!” You whip your head around just before reaching the door “kiss my ass trust fund baby!!” Jeff cackles as you all head to your vehicles robin seems very proud “That was so awesome he so deserved that!” Gareth agrees “It was a long time coming you fucking rule Watts!!” Eddie pulling you into a hug “you’re absolutely insane nobody’s ever done that for any of us before I think I’m fully head over heels in love with this girl!” He points at you Steve shakes his head amused “we better get the hell out of here before they all come barreling out here for payback” you all hop in your ride for the night while the hellfire boys pile into Jeff’s dads van they pull up to your ride honking with all the windows down gareth hanging out the window “HEY JAMIE!!! WELCOME TO THE FAMILY!!” You beam with pride now knowing family isn’t always blood but the people who are in your life right now you want in your life forever. Eddie’s words earlier replaying in your head until you’re snapped out of your thoughts “hey princess I’m gonna drop these two off first do you want me to take you to yours or..?” You know for sure what you want out of all this but not sure how or when to go about what you’re thinking & feeling so for the second you’re just living in the moment “uhhh.. well it’s a weekend so you don’t have anything to do tomorrow right or are you busy if you are it’s totally fine” as you play with your bracelet not making any eye contact. “I’m not busy at all tomorrow… hey.. hey look at me” you slowly lift your head “whatever you wanna do I’m okay with” he holds your hand the remainder of the ride dropping off Steve & robin & heading to your place. Pulling into the driveway your trying to build up the courage “So.. I-I was wondering if maybe you’d want to stay tonight… with me??..”

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #robin buckley #steve harrington x y/n #eddie munson #jason carver

7 notes · View notes

miikishii · 1 year

Text

To Hold the Sea | Ch. 12

main masterlist

series masterpost | previous chapter | next chapter

Synopsis: a chance opens up; so does he.

Warnings: crying, bittersweet?

You couldn’t sleep very well last night. Your clock reads 7:49; you groan in annoyance. When you get up, Ango is still asleep on the couch. You figure it might be a while before he comes to, considering that it’s so early and he truly did look exhausted yesterday. You start by making yourself some breakfast, sitting at your counter, and quietly typing away, dealing with unfinished business and online shopping.

You glance quickly at the couch, still waiting patiently for Ango to wake up, hoping it’s soon because mornings like this are always so dull. You spot some movement out of the corner of your eye and watch as Ango sits up and looks groggily around the room.

“It’s…8:26, you fell asleep around 10 o’clock last night.” You say flatly.

“Sorry..” he sighs,

“It’s fine; I don’t mind. You don’t have work today, right? So you could sleep in?” he nods.

“There’s a little left over from my breakfast if you’re hungry, let me know if you need anything.” The words you say are caring and thoughtful, but your tone is dull. You don’t understand why you’re treating him so carefully, yet so cold all the same.

“Thank you. I’ll… I’ll head out soon.”

“You don’t need to.”

“Hm?”

“... Just don’t rush yourself. You don’t have work, you can relax a bit.”

“I… yes, you’re right.”

He puts his glasses on and meets you at the counter. You take a quick look at him,

“Are you okay? Your face is so red, is it too warm in here?”

“I’m a little warm, I think I’m fine…” he mumbles, his voice is a little raspier than normal, and you only really take notice of it now, with newfound concern.

“C’mere for a second.” You beckon him to come a little closer. Tentatively, he steps closer, and you place a hand on his forehead. You swear his face gets even redder.

“You feel a little warm, I have a thermometer in my bathroom cabinet,” You say, getting up to go grab it,

“It’s fine, I’m okay! Don’t worry about it.” he blurts quickly. You tilt your head suspiciously. “We should try the thermometer, just in case.”

he sighs, “Okay..”

When you check, he’s running a slight fever; you’re almost glad. You push away the thought; Shouldn’t you want him to be healthy? But then again, you remember that this gives you an opportunity.

“You should lie back down.” You give him a sympathetic look and grab him a glass of water. He simply stands where he is looking mortified. You hand him the glass and place a hand on his back comfortingly,

“Really, just go lay down.”

“I feel… fine.” He tenses.

“Ango, I don’t mind if you stay. You have a day off, relax,” you insist and, as he always seems to do, he complies. His muscles slacken as he walks to the couch. When he lies down his head falls to the side; he stares longingly at your wall. His eyes trail slowly to you. He could stare at your back all day. He could reach for you endlessly, chase the feeling of your skin against his hands, and yet, he knows that he will only ever catch the fabric of your clothes. The unsatisfying feeling of each thread reeling through his fingers. He wonders if he’ll always stumble back to you, in some way or another. When the first tear falls, he barely notices it. He wonders if comfort is what he means to you; you are comfort to him.

A second tear.

Whenever he comes this close, he always feels farther than before. He knows. He’ll tell himself again and again: you are out of reach; you are not his. He knows better than anyone else, you belong to no one.

He hiccups quietly, his stirring is noticeable to you now.

“Are you okay?” you ask, twisting your neck to look back at him from the counter. He stares blankly forward, trying to feign falling back asleep, but somehow it makes him cry a little harder. You get up slowly and walk over to him.

“Ango?” such a sweet voice, he thinks. Suddenly everything is overwhelming. You’re surprised by the fog in his glasses and the tears rolling down his cheeks. Even in all the years, you’d known him, you could count on one hand the number of times you’d seen him cry. He removes his glasses and covers his face with his arm, embarrassed.

“Was it something I said…?” You ask, concerned. He shakes his head. You place a hand on his arm, awkwardly trying your best to comfort him. His body trembles with each sob. Quiet, meek, ashamed sobs. The tears he shared with solitude. Day after day, sleepless nights spent alone. And now, tangled in an endless cycle of guilt for what was never his fault. Guilt for wanting your love. He uncovers his face and turns over, facing you kneeling in front of him, tears falling faster again as he looks at you.

“What can I do?” You whisper,

“Stay.”

And you do. A hand comes carefully up to your cheek; he waits for you to push him away, to tell him no, but you don’t. He cups your face, and your eyes lock again.

“I missed you.” He breathes. You smile slightly, leaning into his touch. He pauses, thinking through his next words carefully,

“Can I kiss you?” You haven’t forgotten about his fever, you just don’t care.

“Please do.”

You lean in slowly and so does he, gentle as always, something you loved about him. Just like that, his tears stream again. You don’t care that you can taste them. You don’t care that he’s sick. He puts a hand on the back of your head and pulls you to his chest, holding you there and breathing deeply.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“For what?”

“I’m… crying. You were busy.”

“Don’t apologize.”

“I always feel like I have to.” you pause,

“Maybe you’ve done it enough,” and the word repeats in your head:

Maybe.

You’re not too sure. For now, you’re glad to stay like this, head to his chest, breathing slow and calm and listening to his heartbeat trying to steady itself. His presence still comforted you as it always did, and you hoped it was the same for him.

When he finally lets you go, you sit back on your ankles next to him in silence for a minute.

“Just rest for a while. Let me know if you need anything,” you say softly before moving to work in your bedroom. You don’t get much done, stuck on the feeling of his lips on yours after so long. At some point, you can’t take it anymore; you come back to sit beside him. He looks toward you from where he lays, eyes seemingly fixed past you. You fiddle with your thumbs idly, trying to gather your words,

“I think I missed you too. I’m just not sure.”

“I understand.”

“Some days it just feels wrong to me.” he nods silently.

You hear the blanket shuffle as you look down at your lap again. Suddenly, he’s kneeling in front of you, eyes locked on yours.

“As much as I’d like to say you shouldn’t worry about it, I can’t.” You swallow hard, finally acknowledging the growing lump in your throat.

“I want you to live fully. Whether you’re with me or not.”

Now it’s your turn to cry. Just as he did so many times before, he holds you; so steady, so gentle, an anchor in your storm. When your hands shake and you collapse in on yourself, he makes sure you don’t fold over completely. He was always so kind to you. You should have known sooner he wasn’t cut out for the work he was given back then. Your head spins with memories; he always made things easier. Maybe he was what you needed. Maybe he is what you need.

When you look up at him, he pushes your hair from your face, staring you down with his face growing ever gentler.

“I’ve always loved you.” he smiles bittersweetly, “Even when you didn’t. Take your time and think about it, please.”

“I will.”

Note: Two nice chapters in a row? who am I?

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #dazai x reader #ango x reader #bungo stray dogs #bsd imagines #ango sakaguchi #bsd ango #dazai bsd #ango fluff #bsd angst #bsd fluff #ango angst

25 notes · View notes

woman-of-balnain · 2 years

Text

Undone in Sorrow Part 1/10 (Alpha Rick x Omega Reader)

Previous Work | Collection Masterlist | AO3 Ver. | Next Part

Pairing: Rick Grimes/Fem!Reader

Summary: Finally coming face to face with Negan threatens the ties that bind your relationship with Rick together. After that first meeting, the two of you try to pick up the broken pieces of one another and become whole again.

Please note that while this story is completed, I’m really unhappy with how the last half of it turned out. I’m planning to completely rewrite it, so if you do decide to read this, just know that it’s not my best work (by a long shot) 🫣

A/N: This is a sequel to my other story ‘the Claim’ and probably won’t make much sense if you haven’t read that.

This chapter is mainly just setting up the story and involves events from 6x15 and most of 6x16. I’m not interested in just writing out the show though, so it jumps around a fair bit through the events of those episodes, focusing on the Reader’s role during those events.

The a/b/o dynamics are a little more in the background in this chapter but they will come into play more in the next chapters.

The Reader is Hershel's eldest daughter, but you can also read it as you being his daughter through adoption or having a different mother to both Maggie and Beth. Basically meaning that you can read this with any physical description in mind. But the Reader is considered as 100% his daughter and the sister of Maggie and Beth in all the ways that matter.

Reader is also more of a typical omega, especially since she isn’t on any suppressants. When comparing her with both of her sisters, I see her more like Beth than Maggie. Someone who has learned to fight to protect themselves but isn’t a hardened fighter like some of the other characters around her.

Lastly, I’m going to see how well this is received. I have it plotted out and everything but I’m so used to writing more smutty stuff while this story is more angst + hurt/comfort. So any feedback would be really helpful to let me know if I’m doing okay with this and if I should continue.

Warnings: Protective Rick, angst, a little bit of arguing between Rick/Reader, age gap (Rick is 13 years older than you), you are 26 and Rick is 39, A/B/O dynamics, you have suspicions that you are pregnant, mentions of past miscarriage/stillbirth

Word Count: 4,666

Dividers by: @newlips + @cafekitsune

Turn if you may, from battles never done, I call, as they go by me one by one, Danger no refuge holds, and war no peace, For him who hears love sing and never cease

The sun was filtering through the window of your bedroom, bathing you in warm light when you stirred awake. The reality of Alexandria was still surreal to you, even though it had been around two months since you all arrived and were finally able to settle into somewhere that could truly be a home again.

Slowly, you had all gotten used to it and let your guards down, but part of it still felt too good to be true. At least to you.

Turning in the soft sheets of your bed, you came face to face with Rick, who had been pressed up against you in his sleep. His features were relaxed, no sign of tension or the burdens that were often placed upon him. You couldn’t help but reach out and let your fingertips run across his short beard, taking in the light grey that was spread throughout and which moved up to the hair around his temples.

You loved every single thing about him, but his coarse facial hair always reminded you of the intimate moments you shared. It always tickled against your skin, leaving echoes of his affection long after his touch was gone.

Your ministrations caused his eyes to flutter open and then his lips curved up into a smile when the fog of sleep left him and he took in the sight of you. Returning his smile with a sweet one of your own, you leaned forward to give him a quick kiss and savored the way his arms seemed to automatically wrap around you.

“Morning, handsome,” you said, bringing your fingers up to move through his hair.

“Mmm,” he stifled a yawn before affectionately brushing his nose against yours. “Morning, sweetheart.”

Days like these were ones that you cherished. When neither of you were in a hurry to be anywhere and you could wake up slowly, enjoying each other’s company before you got up and faced reality. Peering over Rick’s shoulder, you saw through the baby monitor that Judith was still sound asleep.

Your movement allowed him to bury his face in your neck, his lips automatically finding the mating bite he’d given you and pressing soft kisses to it. You sighed happily, laying back down onto the bed and Rick followed your movements, bringing his mouth back to yours.

His lips moved languidly against your own, soft and sensual as his hands explored along your lower stomach, fingertips teasing your skin. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and just enjoying the fact that you were together. That you were both safe – that your family was safe.

“I love you,” was whispered from your lips as they only just left his own.

“I love you too,” he responded immediately, pulling back to look into your eyes.

His touch left your stomach, and he cupped your face in his hands, his brow furrowing as he saw some uneasiness in your gaze.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just Maggie,” you admitted.

“You’re thinking about your sister right now?” He quipped, raising an eyebrow.

“Come on,” you laughed softly at his teasing before you turned serious again. “After what those Saviors did that to her and Carol… I’m just worried, that’s all.”

“Baby, it’s over,” his gaze softened, and his fingers began to stroke your cheeks. “You don’t have to worry about it anymore. They’re all gone, we took care of it. Hilltop came through and things are gonna get better.”

“Yeah, it’s just… there’s always something that comes after, you know?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he insisted, his tone confident and steadfast. “This is our home now and we’re always gonna fight for it. It doesn’t matter what comes next because this is all ours. No one’s gonna take it from us. I promise.”

You nodded, knowing that Rick had always come through. No matter what had been thrown your way, even with losing people, he always won the fight in the end.

“I know. I believe in you, Rick, I know that you’ll do everything you can to protect this place. I’m just… still getting used to the fact that Alexandria is real. It still feels too good to be true.”

“Hey, it’s okay to just enjoy it, you know? After everything we’ve been through, we deserve this. It’s not going anywhere, and neither are we.”

You looked up at him with admiration, knowing that he was right and that he would never stop fighting for a chance, no matter how dark and messed up the world had gotten and could still become.

“Thank you, Rick,” you said softly, before noting the slight confusion that crossed his features. “For always fighting to keep us all safe.”

“You don’t ever have to thank me for that, sweetheart,” he smiled down at you affectionately. “It’s my job.”

You grinned back at him, feeling a little more at ease. And then Rick bent his head down, bringing your lips into another kiss and you let the rest of your trepidation fade away.

You found Maggie sitting at the kitchen table when you stopped by her house later that day. After Enid explained that she’d taken over your younger sister’s shift, you had wanted to check up on her. After her encounter with that group of Saviors and especially now with Carol gone, you were still worried about how she was doing.

You gave a couple of light knocks to the door before letting yourself inside, eyeing her with concern.

“Hey,” she greeted you, looking up with a small smile.

“How’re you doing?” You asked, moving over to the table.

“I’m fine,” she brushed away your concern, looking back down at the book she’d been reading.

“Carol’s gone,” you told her, causing Maggie to look back at you with surprise. “Left in the middle of the night. So, you can’t blame me for being worried.”

“Did anyone go after her?”

“Yeah. Rick left a little while ago. But Maggie… look, you don’t have to talk about it, but I’m still gonna worry. You’re pregnant and I don’t want anything to happen to you. I can’t… we’ve lost too many people already.”

Maggie regarded you softly, understanding the meaning behind your words all too well. Of all the people in your lives before the fall, now it was only the two of you left. And the pain of losing your father and then your baby sister… that was all still raw and fresh for both of you.

But then she frowned, a slight look of judgement crossing her features and you looked away. You knew what had likely entered her mind, but hoped you were wrong. You didn’t want to discuss it right now. You just wanted to focus on Maggie and if she was okay.

“And what about you?” She asked, confirming your fears that she was going to make you talk about it. “Have you told Rick yet?”

“No…” You admitted.

“Y/N,” she sighed. “He deserves to know.”

She was right, you knew that. But that didn’t stop the trepidation you felt about having that particular conversation with your alpha. Things that had happened in the past left you doubting how he might handle the news that you suspected you were also pregnant.

If you were, then you were likely only about as far along as your sister. It wasn’t obvious, and you weren’t showing, so Rick had no idea about your suspicions.

“I know that Maggie,” you answered her. “I just… I don’t want to get his hopes up again. Not after last time. Not until I know for sure.”

She gave you a sympathetic look, knowing what you were referring to. Back in the prison, you’d been pregnant before. But once the flu went around, you’d gotten extremely sick and gone into premature labor at only 6 months along. Despite your father, Hershel, doing everything he could to help, the baby had come out stillborn.

Rick had been out, dealing with Carol and when he got back it was already over. It had left both of you distraught, but you knew Rick also felt guilt over not being there. So, you didn’t want to tell him yet, not until you knew for sure.

“Y/N,” Maggie leaned over the table, taking your hands in hers. “I understand, but with everything that’s been going on... we don’t have the luxury of guarantees anymore. We don’t know what’ll happen today, or tomorrow. You should just tell him, because if something happens, you don’t want to be left with that kind of regret.”

You could see the logic in her words, but your conversation with Rick earlier than morning was still fresh in your mind.

“I see what you’re saying, but this is Rick we’re talking about. Everything we’ve been through, it’s him that got us out of it. Nothing’s going to happen, Maggie. I’ll tell him when I’m ready. Now that the Saviors are gone, I’ll organize to go see Dr. Carson. If he confirms it, then I’ll tell Rick.”

“Okay,” she relented, pulling back with another sigh. “Just don’t wait too long. You know better than anyone that he would want to know.”

Your only answer was to give a short nod, knowing that she was right. But ultimately, it was between you and Rick, so you quickly changed the topic, asking where Glenn was.

It wasn’t long before you regretted your words to Maggie, how you had been so certain that nothing was going to happen. She was right – she usually was. In this new world there were no guarantees, and something was always going on. Usually something bad rather than good.

You had panicked when she fell to the floor in severe pain, right after Enid had stopped by and cut her hair. After a moment though, you had sprung into action and told Enid to get help. She had returned with Rick who had apparently only just arrived back in Alexandria a little while ago. He had quickly taken control of the situation.

Now, you were in the RV, right by Maggie’s side and trying to comfort her, even as anxiety pulsed through you from the way she looked. Your little sister was feverish and groaning from the pain in her abdomen.

The worst part was how none of you knew what exactly was wrong. You only knew that it was something to do with the baby and that you’d never seen your sister looking so ill.

“Y/N.”

You turned, seeing Rick in the doorway. You caught the tell-tale signs that betrayed his worry, but they were subtle, and to most he would have seemed like his calm and confident self. He gestured with his head that he wanted to talk to you, so you got up and followed him outside of the RV.

“We’re heading out now,” he said lowly, his head dipping a little so that he was looking you right in the eye. “She’ll be okay, I’ll make sure she is.”

“I know that…” you replied, a little confused.

When you didn’t make any move to leave or say goodbye, Rick frowned.

“You’re not coming,” he said sternly, attempting to leave no room for argument.

“Yes, I am,” you retorted, getting frustrated. “I’m not leaving Maggie on her own.”

“She won’t be alone, she has all of us. Y/N, you need to stay here.”

“Rick, I know you’re going to do everything you can to get her to Hilltop safely, but she’s my sister. Glenn isn’t here, I need to be with her.”

“And I need you safe,” he countered, moving to take your hands in his. “I… need you to stay and take care of Judith.”

You knew that despite the love you both held for your adopted daughter, he was just using that as an excuse.

“There’s other people to look after Judith. She’ll be fine here because here is safe. Besides, you already took care of the Saviors. I know you don’t like it, and that you’re just worried, but I can’t stay here and wonder if Maggie’s okay. I need to be there for her. After dad, after Beth… I can’t just sit around waiting and wondering. Please, Rick.”

He sighed, letting go of you and running a hand through his hair.

“Fine,” he gave in. “But you stay with Maggie. If we run into trouble, you say out of sight. And you do everything that I tell you to. Everything, Y/N.”

“I will,” you agreed.

“Okay,” he nodded, his features softening a little. “Sorry, I just… never mind.”

“What is it?”

“I’ll tell you later. We need to get moving.”

You could tell that there was something weighing on him. Something new, that hadn’t been there in the morning before he left to look for Carol. But Rick was right, you needed to get Maggie to Dr. Carson and if he said it could wait, then you trusted that it wasn’t anything too important.

You quickly worked out why Rick was so reluctant to let you come, as the RV was blocked at every turn. The confidence he held when you all set out began to slip away, replaced with anxiety. But there was no time in the chaos of it all to confront him about the fact that the Saviors had actually not been taken care of and that there were still plenty more out there.

The attack on the satellite outpost hadn’t finished anything at all. Instead, it had started something and all of the signs pointing to the Saviors having a lot of people and a lot resources set you on edge.

“She’ll be okay,” Carl said from behind you.

You turned around, seeing the boy who had grown exponentially since the first time you met him. Back then, when he was brought to the farm, shot and bleeding out, you hadn’t known if he’d make it. Now there was hardly any trace of that boy left, with Carl becoming hardened from the world around him and all of the things he’d experienced.

You looked back to Maggie, taking in the way she was burning up and how Rick tried to soothe and reassure her.

“We don’t know that,” you replied to Carl, worried by the way her condition had worsened.

“My dad will get us there,” Carl insisted. “You know that. Once she’s at Hilltop and sees the doctor, she’ll be fine.”

“Carl…”

You turned back to face him, unsure if you should say what was on your mind. Carl usually had a steadfast faith in Rick, and you didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that, but you could clearly see and sense the panic building up in your alpha.

“What is it?” The boy who was practically your son asked. “What’s wrong?”

He knew you well enough by now to pick up on when you were worried over something.

“Just… look at him. He’s getting anxious and so am I. If we don’t get there soon, what will happen to Maggie? It doesn’t seem to matter what route we take, it’s like they’re always five steps ahead of us.”

“Y/N,” Carl said, his tone serious and his resolve unwavering. “We’ve been through hell before and every time, we’ve gotten out of it. Stop worrying, it’ll be fine.”

You just nodded, not missing the way his confidence showed how much he’d matured over the years. But you also wondered how he wasn’t picking up on Rick’s scent, which betrayed his inner turmoil to you. Maybe it wasn’t as strong to the others. Or maybe it had something to do with the mating bond you shared.

There were other signs though; the sweat covering his skin and how it made some of his curls stick to his forehead, the frantic look in his eyes, the way he’d started breathing a little heavier… He was starting to feel trapped in a corner and if it weren’t for Maggie, you knew he would’ve been fighting back by now. But they’d caught him in a weak moment, when he had to control his emotions in order to keep other people safe. And you knew that it was starting to get at him and leave him feeling helpless.

It felt like days had passed, rather than just hours. The entire group that was in the RV was on edge – except maybe Carl, who had a strange, stoic calmness throughout the whole thing. But now, night had fallen and after Eugene’s suggestion, the group had decided to split up.

You stood outside the RV, silently watching as the others prepared to leave. After Rick spoke with Eugene, he caught your eye and made his way over to you. Your stomach churned with apprehension, picking up on how high strung he was.

It was strange because you’d never really experienced anything like it. Even before you’d claimed one another, there had been that undeniable pull and connection between the two of you. But you’d never been so attuned to his emotions before, and it was almost like his were mixing and intertwining with your own, confusing you about what it was you were feeling and what was coming from him.

But you had made a decision and despite how uneasy he was, you were resolved to go through with it.

“I’m going with Eugene,” you told him gently, not wanting to argue about it.

Rick’s features twisted, his expression becoming even more desperate. He shook his head and looked at you with wide, pleading eyes.

“Baby, please,” he implored you, speaking softly in order to try and keep your conversation private. “It’s bad enough that you’re out here and not at home. We’re not splitting up.”

He wasn’t angry or frustrated or trying to assert his authority over you. Instead, he just looked desperate, and it broke your heart. You often saw a different side of him in private, compared to the others, but that didn’t make his obvious distress over the situation any easier to absorb. But you knew that you would be more useful with Eugene than on foot with the others.

“I’m not a fighter… you know that Rick,” you tried to reason with him. “If this is how I can help Maggie, then that’s what I’m going to do. We’ll be okay, they’re just trying to stop us from getting to Hilltop. I know you’ll get her there safely. I trust you to do that, so trust me to do this.”

“We don’t know what they’re trying to do,” he argued. “You going with Eugene could be just as dangerous!”

“Rick, we don’t have time to fight about this. Please, just get my sister to the doctor and let me do my part to help. Something I know I can do to help her.”

“You said you’d do what I told you to,” he pointed out. “When I let you come with us. So why are you fighting me on this?”

“Because I’ll just be in the way if I come with you.”

He sighed, before moving towards you. Then he was resting his forehead against your own as his hands came to hold your hips. You felt the way his resolve washed away and knew that he was done fighting you on the matter.

“Baby, just promise me you’ll be safe,” he relented, knowing they had to leave quickly.

“I’ll do everything I can to try,” was the best answer you could give him.

He nodded before titling his head to kiss you. It was brief, but it still conveyed so many emotions. He was desperate and panicked, unsure of what might happen in the near future. But you were all determined to try, knowing that Maggie was in danger and needed medical attention as soon as possible.

Rick’s scent wrapped around you, seeping through until you felt his trepidation, his fear and his doubts like they were your own feelings. But when he pulled his lips away from yours, he put his walls back up and headed over to the others, preparing to carry Maggie through the woods to safety.

Abraham and Eugene exchanged a nod while Rick gave you one last lingering look. You smiled back at him, hoping it would give him reassurance, but deep down you knew that it likely wouldn’t. If the way his own inner emotions had been so obvious to you were any indication, then your own were probably just as clear to him.

“Come on,” you said to Eugene, turning away from the man you loved. “We should get going too.”

He just nodded, following you back into the RV.

Rick’s heart was pounding like a drum in his chest as the floodlights suddenly turned on, temporarily blinding him and the others. The trademark whistling of the Saviors resounded around them, too loud and too high-pitched, ringing through his ears. Time seemed to move slowly around him, as his mind struggled to catch up and comprehend what was happening.

His small group turned and looked through the clearing, taking in the sight of countless Saviors, who were completely trapping them in the area. Very briefly, he was glad that you’d convinced him to let you stay with Eugene. Because it was bad enough that Carl was with him in that moment. If you were there, the very final threads of his sanity would have likely snapped.

Carl could take care of himself. But you? You were an omega, the very definition of someone who needs to be protected and as your alpha, that was his job. He knew that he should have tried harder to talk you out of coming on the trip, back in Alexandria. After realizing that there were more Saviors out there when he was with Morgan, looking for Carol. He’d almost told you, but the urgency of the situation had prevented him from doing so.

And now, they were surrounded with no way out. The sense of hopelessness that had gradually been building up inside of him as the RV was blocked at every turn now boiled over. He was failing Maggie, his own sister-in-law, during the time she when needed him and his leadership the most. She had said she trusted him, believed in him and he’d let her down. He’d let them all down.

The future had never been so uncertain, but if he knew one thing, it was that it sure as hell didn’t look good. Rick realized that he was shaking, as the shock set in. His wide and frantic eyes swept over the area and then he froze.

“No…” he breathed out so quietly it was barely audible.

There was Eugene, kneeling down with the RV parked neatly in the background. The knowledge that their plan had failed, that Eugene had been captured with his face bloody and beaten… that was already enough to break Rick down even further.

But you weren’t there. You were nowhere to be found and he had never felt so scared and helpless.

“Good, you made it. Welcome to where you’re goin’.”

And suddenly, time seemed to move back at its normal pace as that asshole from earlier, the first one they’d encountered, was talking to him again. Rick’s body seemed like it was broken in half, where he took in what was happening around him, but he was also distracted as his mind screamed out one persistent thought over and over again.

Where the hell were you?

He let himself hope that you’d gotten away somehow. That you were safe, and the lack of your presence didn’t suggest something ominous.

Before he knew it, their guns had been taken and they’d been forced to set the stretcher down. Maggie hadn’t been given any special treatment, forced to kneel just like the rest of them had been ordered to. Then he was looking at Eugene again, who had been dragged over to join the rest of the group.

“Y/N?” He croaked out, just hoping for some kind of answer.

But Eugene never got the chance before the asshole who seemed to be in charge was in his face again, insisting that he get down on his knees. Every part of Rick was telling him to fight back, and he looked around again briefly before he begrudgingly complied. He knew that he had to stay calm in order to keep the others safe. In that moment, he knew that they were powerless. There was nothing he could do.

So, he slowly got down on his knees, trying to ignore the look Maggie gave him. He wasn’t sure if it was just from the pain she was experiencing or if it was because she couldn’t believe he wasn’t doing more to resist.

He couldn’t do anything but watch as Michonne, Glenn, Daryl and Rosita were pulled out from the back of a van and forced to join them. He could only sit there, drenched in sweat and apprehension, his breath coming out in heavy pants as his body continued to shake against his will. He looked around him with wild eyes, still unable to fully comprehend that it all was really, truly happening.

And then the mustached asshole was talking to them again as he made his way over to the RV, which now sat in front of them.

“All right, we got a full boat. Let’s meet the man.”

Negan.

Rick realized that all of this, every single thing that had transpired that day had led to this moment. This had all been Negan – the real Negan – introducing himself to them.

The asshole knocked against the RV and there was a brief pause where silence fell around them. But then the door swung open and a tall man in a leather jacket came into view, grinning smugly at them as he rested a baseball bat with barbed wire around it against his shoulder. Rick instantly recognized that he was an alpha, the other man’s strong and stifling scent reaching him even with the distance between them.

“Pissin’ our pants yet?” He asked, remaining in the doorway. “Boy, do I have a feeling we’re gettin’ close.”

He watched them all for a moment, taking it all in with a sick sense of satisfaction. Then, the man, the one who was clearly Negan, turned to look back into the RV.

“Come on out darlin’,” he said, with his lips in a permanent smirk. “Let’s get you all reunited.”

Rick barely had time to register his relief at seeing you alive, as Negan dragged you out of the RV, holding on tightly to your hair. Because even though you were alive, he wanted you to be anywhere but there, while he was helpless to do anything to protect you.

As Negan forced your head up so that you were looking at the others, Rick’s inner alpha reared its ugly head, causing Rick to become both furious and distressed. Your face was bleeding and bruised; you looked like you’d been crying and your features were scrunched up in pain at the vice like grip Negan had on your head.

Rick’s fists clenched and the way his body was shaking became even worse. Every instinct within him was saying that he needed to ensure your safety and kill anyone standing in his way, but he had to keep himself in check. It was a torturous struggle raging inside of him, battling between the urge to protect and the need to survive – for all of you to survive.

“No,” he found his voice cracking, the word escaping his lips before he knew it. “No, no, no…”

He looked at you with despair over the situation you’d all found yourselves in. Tears welled in his eyes as he realized there was nothing he could do. He had found himself helpless at the hands of Negan, which was exactly how the other alpha wanted him.

“Oh…” Negan let out a sadistic chuckle, his gaze falling right on Rick. “Yes, yes, yes.”

Next Part

#rick grimes x reader #alpha!rick grimes x omega!reader #rick grimes x f!reader #rick grimes/reader #alpha rick grimes #omega reader #rick grimes fanfiction #rick grimes angst #twd fanfic #rick grimes/you #rick grimes x you #female reader

93 notes · View notes

the-present-is-a-gift-au · 7 months

Text

Chapter 26: In Which Darkrai Asks a Question

Twig sent back a note that she had some loose ends to tie up before she could visit Kip, hoping that the note would buy her some time thanks to how she hadn’t specified a day she’d be coming back to Treasure Town. Ark, confusingly, almost elected to stay home when she ran to the post office to deliver it. She told him she was heading out, and he replied with a distracted hum. Confused, she asked if he wanted to come along, and he seemed to snap awake and rushed after her out the door. He watched everyone and everything with a strange look in his eyes as they made their way through Verdant Village— somewhere between sorrowful longing and bitter anger. Whatever it was in his gaze, it wasn’t the awkward, distant sort of cheerfulness she was used to from him. He wasn’t regarding everything with a wide-eyed awe— it was a narrow sort of scrutiny that didn’t fit on Ark’s face.

Honestly, he seemed a bit ticked in his distractedness. There were moments he was almost irritable— not enough to truly be called irritable, though, because this was Ark she was talking about. He just seemed a bit… short. Maybe a little snippy in how he responded to her questions about if they had enough food to make it to the next weekday market. Not enough to qualify as rude, but he was colder than usual.

Weird. She could look past it though. She had her moodier days— he probably was just going through one of his own.

She ignored all of that, but she couldn’t look past him asking her that long-dreaded question as she sorted through the groceries she’d grabbed on the way back from the post office, glad to finally be home. “How long were you planning on keeping this up?”

She set down an oran berry she was examining for bruises, confused. “What the heck are you talking about, man?”

“How long did you intend to lie to me?”

“Dude, I’ve never once lied to…”

Oh.

She recognized the chilliness to his tone now, the coldness of his gaze. She recognized the way he postured himself and seemed to take all the light out of the room with his presence.

It all belonged to Darkrai, of course, and fit so poorly on Ark.

Suddenly a number of things made sense— the fact that he knew Kip had a cowardly streak, the way he spoke as he asked her about joining Team Venture, even the way that he held himself these past weeks— Darkrai remembered. He remembered, and he was mad. Twig had never once seen him upset. Never ruffled, never perturbed— Darkrai was always calm, always cool, always collected, and never the picture of burning cold rage before her.

She should be terrified. Something in her was definitely cowering at the sight of Darkrai so furious before her, but she managed to hold her ground despite the coward in her begging to run. She was tired. Maybe she was ready to die if it meant she could get some rest.

“Your answer?” He demanded.

She tried to come up with some pacifying response to give him, but could only summon the truth. She was tired. It had been a long time of lying to keep people safe. She had already messed everything up. Why not get some stuff off her chest before she kicked the bucket? “I was going to keep it up as long as it took.”

“You fully intended to keep my past hidden from me, tucked tidily away for all of time?” He loomed over her— or more like he tried to, at least. Twig didn’t back down.

She gave him a weary glare. “Can you blame me?”

A long, tense silence filled the air. It felt like if she reached out a claw, she could pluck it like a string.

“Are you going to kill me?” She asked.

Conflict flashed across his face.

“Just get it over with already. I’ve been waiting for this to happen. Might as well get it done after all that waiting.”

“I’m not—”

“Not what?” She spat. “Not the type to get your hands dirty? Too bad. If you leave me alive, I’ll tell Kip and Cresselia— everyone— and we’ll be stuck in the same situation we started in. You’ll face off with us in Dark Crater, I’ll end up cursed or whatever that arm thing you did was, and you’ll end up without your memories again or something. I don’t care. Just get it over with.” Tears pricked at her eyes despite her frustration. “I’m tired. I’m done. I blew the shot I had at keeping everyone safe and getting a friend while I was at it. So kill me.”

Again, that conflict flickered across his features. He scowled and seemed to ready himself to deal that mortal blow… but he vanished instead, melted into the shadows. She could sense he was still in the room, judging by the heavy atmosphere that surrounded him remaining, but he was gone without a visible trace.

Twig got the feeling he didn’t want to talk. Too bad.

“You’ve got the perfect opportunity here, man. It’d be kind of stupid to pass it up when I’m literally telling you to get it over with.”

Silence.

“You’d be doing me a favor, you know,” she murmured.

No answer.

“… How long have you remembered?”

The heaviness in the air crescendoed, and then it lifted. He was gone.

Twig wondered why he left without finishing the job.

#the present is a gift au #pmd explorers #pmd fanfic #pmd fanfiction #pmd eos #pmd fic #pmd2 #pokemon mystery dungeon #pmd sky #pmd

9 notes · View notes

little-tyrant-gortash · 8 months

Text

Oathbreaker

Pairing: fem!Tav x Enver Gortash, fem!Tav/Astarion

Tags: Emotional Manipulation, Manipulation, Manipulative Relationship, Paladin Tav (Baldur's Gate), Vaginal Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Drunk Sex, Unrequited Love, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Scars, Blood and Injury, Injury, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Miscarriage, Torture, Psychological Torture, Implied/Referenced Torture

Word count: 2,107

Ao3 here.

Chapter 1.

Chapter 2.

Chapter 3.

Chapter 4.

Chapter 5.

Chapter 6.

Chapter 7.

Chapter 8.

Chapter 9.

Chapter 10.

Chapter 11.

Chapter 12.

Chapter 13.

Chapter 14.

Chapter 15.

Chapter 16.

Chapter 17.

Chapter 18.

Chapter 19.

Chapter 20.

Chapter 21.

Chapter 22.

Chapter 23.

Chapter 24.

Chapter 25.

Chapter 26. ⬇

Chapter 27.

Chapter 26: All Of It

"Tav."

"Mm?"

Gortash had been staring at the wall but didn't see it at all. He had been stroking her head while she cried, but it didn't take her too long to calm down. Now, she just rested in his arms, not moving an inch.

If she thought she'd smite him five minutes earlier, she realised that she wouldn't be able to do it. Especially not if his arms were still this comfortable.

"I want to be a better man for you."

It felt like a hand gripped her throat to choke her. She wished he'd never said this. She couldn't know if it was just yet another way to manipulate her to do someone else's bidding; it had been complicated with Astarion, yes, but it was so much worse with Gortash.

"I don't want you to change because of me", she murmured in his chest.

"But I want to."

Tears flooded her eyes. Again. Whenever she thought she had no more tears, she always found out that she was wrong.

"Are you saying this because you think I want to hear this?"

"No. I say it because I mean it."

"Does that mean that you're thinking about leaving Bane?"

Gortash felt conflicted. Actually conflicted. Doubt, even if fleeting, crossed his mind. How to word it so she would understand…?

"I can't do that."

His whispered words told her so much more than anything else. Can't. He was unable to. Tav recalled what she'd picked up about Bane, which wasn't much. God of Tyranny and Darkness, all things she didn't particularly like. She'd seen what Shar had done to Shadowheart, who, in their early relationship, told her that many people feared the dark but Sharrans embraced it in it's glory. Tav preferred sunlight. Especially after she saw what Shar had done to Shadowheart when she turned away from her.

Why turn to darkness when in light, things were so much more beautiful? Maybe she'd need to go back to Sorcerous Sundries to learn more about his god. To know why he 'can't' leave him.

"And how are you planning to be a better man if you're still a tyrant?"

Her question was almost rhetorical, he knew. But, he tried to answer it.

"I may make harsh decisions. But with you on my side, you could… ease them."

Tav pulled away a little, looking up at him with a frown.

"You'd actually allow me to have a say in anything in the city?"

"You'll be my Archduchess", he pointed it out, "of course you'll have a say in everything."

His Archduchess. Tav felt the anger rise again. Her expression changed, and at first, he couldn't understand why. She pulled away, and he let her. She sat up, her stomach rumbling quietly.

"If I remember correctly, I gave the ring back to you."

Gortash sat up as well with a small smile. He reached in his pocket and pulled out the ring.

"Fortunately, I have it with me."

She stared at him for a long time, trying to decide whether she should smack him off the bed or not.

"I said that whatever we had was over. That I'll never forgive you."

"I urge you to reconsider that, because, you see, you've stopped that plot, and not only that, you've made me realise that I do want Baldur's Gate to be safer for children."

Tav narrowed her eyes at him.

"What the hells are you talking about?" She hissed angrily, like a cat that was ready to strike at any moment. "You want to make me believe that the sad story of my shit childhood inspired you?"

"Not just yours", Enver tilted his head slightly. "Mine, too."

Her brows twitched, and Gortash realised she had absolutely no idea about where did he really come from. That was surprising; hadn't she met any of those who thought that he should've stayed underground with the mob? That he had no rights to claim the power he seized?

"I've established a shelter for the refugees at Rivington", he added, lowering the ring in his lap to play with it. He hadn't had his golden rings on, just the gauntlet with the Netherstone in it, and of course, the pieces of gold that covered all of his arms. "You were right, you know. They could stay there until we reach the next step of our plan."

"And you think this is supposed to make me dance back to you?!"

Tav didn't look any less angry. Gortash said nothing, just thought a clear, confident 'yes'. But then, he had to realise that this would be just a little bit harder than he thought. He sighed and moved backwards, off the bed to kneel beside it. He put the ring on the spot where he sat a moment ago, then folded his arms and rested them on the edge of the bed. Tav's anger dissolved a little; especially when she saw that he could conjure the most innocent looking puppy eyes.

I really must smite this man.

"How can I prove it to you that I'd do anything for you to forgive me?"

Interesting.If she could ask for anything in the world from the city's most powerful man, what would it be? Currently, all she had on her mind was food. She couldn't think straight when she was so hungry, and especially, when she remembered of the delicious meal he'd prepared for her in the middle of the night…

No, she should establish hard limits for their shared plan. She didn't particularly like that he wished to tadpole literally everyone to control them better, but at the same time, the more people she met, the less she cared about what happened to other adults. Children, though, were different for her. They were simply off limits.

"Never hurt the kids." She decided quietly. "Don't kidnap them, don't hurt them. Treat them right, make them feel safe and taken care of. And not just you, but the countless True Souls out there, too."

"Alright", Enver murmured quietly, reaching out to touch her knee, to stroke it with his thumb. "I can do that."

"Swear to me that you'll protect them."

"I swear."

Her lips trembled when she realised that he'd never looked more honest and serious. Little did she know that he wasn't just promising to protect those children he could care less about, but he also had their own child in mind. He'd build his empire for his own blood in a way that it'd be the safest place for them.

As he watched her reach out for the ring with a sigh, slipping it back on her left middle finger, he could feel it again. That stirring. That bittersweet tightness in his chest. He never liked to feel this, because it could be weaponized against him, but at the same time, it was all he lived for lately. Her affection. Her attention. Her presence. Her.

"Tav", he murmured again, indecisively.

"Yes?"

She reached down to gently run her fingers in his hair. He closed his eyes, enjoying it for a moment, before he sighed and glanced up at her again.

"I lov-"

"No", she abruptly cut him off, removing her hand from his hair with a pained expression. "No, don't say that."

"Why not?" Gortash furrowed his brows, then climbed back up on the bed to wrap his arms around her.

"Those "three little words" are "everyone's favourite"", Tav whispered, her tone sad, "but I don't like them."

"May I know why?"

She melted against him, and he finally felt like he was whole again. She rested her head where his heart was, listening to the beat that seemed a bit too fast.

"Astarion purposefully used them to get what he wanted from me", she admitted softly. "I don't believe it when I hear it since then. I don't want to hear it. I always think it's a lie."

Gortash could add one more thing to the list he hated Astarion for. Then, he smiled as he kissed the top of her head.

"Well, then… I hate you way less than the rest of the world."

He could feel her giggle in his arms, and it made him smile, too.

"I hate you way less, too", she murmured, snuggling closer to him.

As the room got darker around them, he gently maneuvered with her to lie down on the bed and cover her with the blanket. They didn't talk anymore, just rested comfortably for a while… until she suddenly pulled away from him.

"What's wrong?"

He sat up just when she did, but he suspected it as soon as she rushed across the room, right to the open bathroom. By the time he stopped behind her, she was already trying to get rid of the rest of the small amount of food that remained in her stomach. Enver shifted behind her, helping with her hair.

"Uhh, no", she groaned and tried to wave him away, "don't… look…"

"It's fine", he replied quietly, "I've seen worse, you know."

Imagining the 'worse' he might've seen made her gag again.

"You don't- have to…" She pushed his hand away, and he let her. Tav leaned over the basin now, using some water from it to refresh herself. "It's a persistant illness, it seems. I'll have to visit a healer…"

"It's not an illness", Gortash murmured.

She reached for a towel with a shaking hand and dried her wet face.

"You have absolutely no idea what you're talking about", she groaned. "I've had this for days by now, I can't keep anything down."

"Tav", Gortash sighed. "Think."

"How can you even tell me such a thing? Tav, think. That's the worst someone can say when the other is down with an upset tummy. Do you have any idea how bad it is to feel this sick??"

Gortash said nothing at first, just smiled. Another symptom he could tick off the list. Sudden, drastic mood swings. How could she be so blind to the obvious? She should've known. Unless her symptoms were very different that one time when she conceived…

"Tav-"

"Stop Taving me! Spit it out! Why can't you ever just say what's on your mind?! Why must I drag everything out of everyon-"

"Darling", Gortash took her hands in his with a small smile. His thumbs rubbed her palms, as he attempted to calm her down. "We've been together, almost every day, for almost three months."

"And?! Why is that so important right now?!"

"Because you said your cycles returned to normal after that incident", he gently pointed it out, "but you haven't had a period since you were with me for the first time."

Tav stared at him in the dim light, shocked. For a minute, she couldn't even say anything. That couldn't possibly be. Before Gortash and before Astarion, she'd spent time with others – sure, not just men –, but she was never blessed with a child. It remained an impossible, unreachable dream that never would come true. This was one of the main reasons she parted ways with the gods in general. They refused to help her in every regard. If the fact that she'd been abandoned as a baby and her horrible childhood weren't bad enough, she'd never be able to experience what was it like to be a mother. To prove that she'd be better than her own parents.

But now that Gortash pointed it out… how couldn't she notice? Was she that head over heels for him that it didn't even occur to her? The room started to spin. Enver kept rubbing her palms when he saw she paled further.

Dread. She was filled with utter dread. He was right. It seemed that perhaps the gods were waiting for the right moment to bless her. And it was his. She carried the child of the Chosen of Bane under her heart. Her hands trembled in his hands. What if he didn't want it? What if-

"Everything will be alright, I promise", he reassured her, "I'll personally make sure that everything will be alright, Tav."

"You- you want it?" She barely could say the words out loud, her heart felt like it was beating outside of her body.

"Of course I want it", he sounded so gentle as he reassured her, "why wouldn't I?"

"I don't- I don't know", tears flooded her eyes, and he cupped her face in his warm hands.

"Tav, with you, I want everything." He kissed her forehead. "The good, the bad, the unexpected, all of it." He lowered his head, so their foreheads touched. "All of it."

#Oathbreaker #little tyrant [enver gortash]#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg 3 #enver gortash #archduke enver gortash #lord enver gortash #fanfic #Oathbreaker fanfic

14 notes · View notes

ga-yuu · 7 months

Text

Yoshitsune Main Story Summary (Chapter 24 to 26 + Both endings)

Yasuchika looks at Yoshino, who was riding on Yoshitsune's horse. He understood that, the thread that ties both the Shogunate and the Rebels is Yoshino. So in order to break the alliance, Yoshino must die.

He then, with whatever power left, summoned a much bigger inugamis to attack one small girl. Yasuchika apologizes before he releases the inugami towards her. Seeing the large size of beasts, the soldiers started getting scared. Even Yoshino was shivering. But Yoshitsune was pissed. He was pissed because Yasuchika was trying to kill his one true love. But he knew that, to defeat the large inugamis he needed more power than usual.

Then suddenly, something inside him started to change. It felt like his body itself was changing and he started to feel more power. Then, a huge storm started coming from nowhere. The wind kept surrounding Yoshitsune and then suddenly, Yoshitsune hair turns completely black and both eyes turn red, like those of Kurama.

Seeing this transformation, everyone looking at him was mesmerized but at the same time scared. Yoshino then recalled Tamamo telling her something about using demon powers within limits. Apparently, each human has a vessel which should not be overflowing. When a human who made contract with a demon, uses demon powers beyond their limit, it can cost their life. That's why Yoshino cannot use foxfires unless she pushes herself to the limit.

Right now, Yoshitsune is using all of his powers, and this started to scare Yoshino because it might cost his life. She reached out to hold his hand, worriedly and Yoshitsune reassured her that he's okay. He then looks at Yasuchika and threatened him that he will not forgive him or anyone who tries to hurt Yoshino. Ofc, Yoshitsune kills all the Inugamis and was almost about to cut Yasuchika's head. But Yasuchika is a playable character so Yoritomo stops him. Instead Yoritomo takes him under the Shogunate's custody to find more info from him. Yoshitsune didn't care, as long as Yasuchika wasn't a pain in the ass.

Soon Yoshitsune goes back to normal and they all return. Also on the way, Yoshitsune and Yoshino kiss on a moving horse. Isn't that dangerous?

At the camp, Yoritomo and Yoshitsune have a final meeting to settle things down. Yoshino also joins them. Yoritomo asks Yoshitsune what he wants as a reward for killing the Inugami and capturing the main villain. Yoshitsune with a straight face said he only wants 2 things: 1. He wants Hiraizumi to be seen as a separate country and that he wants to be the leader of it or something (I don't remember) and 2. He wants Yoshino as his trophy.

Yoritomo smirked at him for being greedy. He was okay with the first one but for the second request, he tells Yoshitsune to ask Yoshino's opinion first. They both looked at Yoshino and Yoshino nods her head, saying that she wants to live in Hiraizumi with Yoshitsune.

After they go back to their tent, and have sex for the first time. Next morning, Yoshino asks if she could go and say her final goodbyes to Yoritomo and friends. Yoshitsune nods and Yoshino leaves. She meets up with the Shogunate gang and thanks them for everything they have done for her. She also bows to say sorry if she had caused any troubles to them. Everyone of them laughs at her for being so serious. They all told her that she was one of them and she is still one of them and if she ever gets bored of Yoshitsune, she can come bact to them. They all laugh together.

After that, we see Yoshino going on top of a cliff to pick up some herbs. Out of nowhere, Kurama drops down and glares at her. Frustrated, he confronts her and asks her why did she change Yoshitsune's heart? Yoshitsune was suppose to die and Kurama would have gotten his soul, then why did Yoshino change Yoshitsune's heart, that now Yoshitsune wants to live. Yoshino openly says that Yoshitsune now wants to live for his friends who care about him. She also knows that deep down Kurama also doesn't want Yoshitsune to die. Yoshino says that if Kurama is frustrated, just because he didn't get Yoshitsune's soul, then she is ready to give her soul instead. Since now, Yoshitsune and Yoshino are in love, their souls are connected. So it won't matter, right?

Kurama was silent. He didn't know what to say or how to process her words. After a minute, he just tells her that he doesn't need her soul and flies away quickly.

After that, few days later, everyone goes back to Hiraizumi and Yoshitsune officially welcomes Yoshino as a member of their family.

Romantic Ending

Few days have passed after Yoshino is welcomed into the Rebel family. Yoshino goes to meet Tamamo at a mountain top. She meets Tamamo regularly to fight demons so that Tamamo can restore his powers. Tamamo was happy to see her but...he wasn't happy to see the two puppies following her all the way from home.

Tamamo looks at both of them and asked why 'uninvited people' are here. The two puppies, Yoshitsune and Kurama looks at each other confused, because they didn't understand who was Tamamo referring to and Tamamo sighs. Yoshitsune said that he followed Yoshino because he wants to make sure that she's safe. He grabs her hand with both of his hands and smiles beautifully. Yoshino just couldn't no to Yoshitsune when he asked if he could follow her.

Tamamo asked why Kurama followed her and Kurama was like "No reason, I'm only here to fight Tamamo."

Tamamo sighs again and decided to simply let them be. All 4 of them, then started to walk towards the direction of the demon so that Yoshino can kill it. While walking, Yoshino looks at Kurama and thanks him for everything and Kurama looked dumbfounded as if he didn't understand what she's talking about. But soon he started smiling, calling her weird. Yoshino looked surprised seeing Kurama smiling beautifully.

Soon they see a demon and Yoshino steps forward to attack. Yoshino was doing good but then the demon charged an attack and when Yoshino tried to dodge it, her foot twists and she almost falls off the cliff. Luckily Yoshitsune came in clutch and caught her.

Seeing Yoshino almost die made both Yoshitsune and Kurama (for some reason) furious. They both at the same time, unleashed their powerful hurricanes killing the demon who tried to kill Yoshino. (It was literally an overkill)

They both happily turned towards Yoshino for validation but to their surprise they see a furious angry Tamamo. Tamamo started scolding both Kurama and Yoshitsune for killing the demon in place of Yoshino because if Yoshino doesn't kill the demon, Tamamo's powers are never gonna be restored. Both of these idiots forgot that they were not suppose to get in the way of Yoshino. Obediently, they both quietly accepted Tamamo's scolding.

After that, Yoshitsune holds Yoshino's feet and started rubbing it, asking if it hurts or not? He also offered to give Yoshino a piggyback ride back home if she can't walk. Kurama also offers Yoshino to carry her in his arms and fly back to home. Seeing Kurama so eagerly willing to help Yoshino, Tamamo understood that Kurama is in love with Yoshino but doesn't seem to realize it.

Tamamo held back Kurama saying that he is going to educate Kurama about something and they all go back to the mansion.

At night, both Yoshino and Yoshitsune were getting ready for bed. Then Yoshitsune curiously asks if Yoshino is happy staying in Hiraizumi or not? He asks her if she needs anything? and that he will buy her anything that she needs or wants. Yoshino was confused.

Yoshitsune looked guilty and with a sad face he said that this is the first time he has ever fallen in love and seeing Yoshino, his 'love' a.k.a 'obsession and possessiveness' keeps increasing. He wants her to be happy and not leave him. So that's why he asked if she wanted anything, so Yoshino wouldn't leave him. But he also doesn't want Yoshino to feel overburdened seeing him being possessive.

Yoshino was genuinely surprised but she smiled. She was so happy that Yoshitsune loves her so much. She moves closer to Yoshitsune and reassures him that all she wants is him and that she will never leave him. Ever. This makes Yoshitsune happy. He pushes her down to the futon and starts making love to her.

Dramatic Ending

Few days after Yoshino joined the Rebel family, both Yoshino and Yoshitsune were busy as hell. They weren't able to spend time together. Yoshino also got permission from Yoshitsune to work as a pharmacist in Hiraizumi and also at his mansion for the soldiers.

They got little time to be together so, they were walking hand in hand through the hallway. Yoshitsune apologizes for not being able to spend time with her and Yoshino shakes her head.

They both run into Benkei and Yoichi, who were coming from the other way. Yoichi smiles at both of them but Benkei looked at Yoshino with a straight face. He then pulls out a box of sweets and gives them to Yoshino. Yoshino was confused but she still took it. Benkei tells her that he made those sweets for her as an appreciation. He's thanking her for accepting Yoshitsune's heart and also being his friend.

Yoshino smiled and thanked him. She took a small sweet and ate it. Yoshino's face lit up due to how delicious the sweet was. Benkei looked relieved seeing her liking his cooking. Benkei was thinking too hard if Yoshino would like his cooking and also used Yoichi to taste his sweets before he gave them to Yoshino.

Yoshitsune also thanks both Benkei and Yoichi for their gratitude. Then Benkei's motherly instincts starts to kick in. He then holds Yoshino's shoulders with a serious face and tells her about Yoshitsune's bad habits since now Yoshino will also be taking care of Yoshitsune. He tells her that Yoshitsune doesn't like to eat vegetables and some times he even falls asleep while eating. He also goes on and on about his bad sleeping habits and Yoshitsune started to get embarrassed.

He quickly takes Yoshino's hand and both of them runs away from Benkei and Yoichi. They both then walk hand in hand in the forest and Yoshitsune apologizes for Benkei's behaviour. Yoshino just laughed and told him that she was happy that everyone is accepting her as a friend.

She was also happy that she is getting to know more about Yoshitsune. Then Yoshitsune curiously asks her if she wants anything? He promises that he will fulfill all her wishes and make her happy.

Yoshino thinks for a while and then says she only want Yoshitsune and just like him, she wants to stay by his side and make him happy.

Hearing her words made Yoshitsune incredibly happy and he kissed her forehead. The fact that she chose him more than anything else made him more happy than he could think. They kiss and promise to be with each other.

THE END.

#ikemen series #ikemen genjiden #cybird ikemen #otome #cybird otome #cybird #ikegen #ikemen mc #ikemen genjiden yoshitsune

12 notes · View notes

chickensoup-4-mysoul · 11 days

Text

herculean (drrr x f!reader) - chapter 26

chapter 26 - binary

synopsis: who are you?

word count: 2,651

warnings: just more angst :')

"i'm just a host to those who rule my mind now I'm feeling this way all the time they push me down they're keeping me alive and i don't know what's real what's real or what's inside,, inside - melt

Izaya smirked at the scene before him. Standing over the ledge of a high building, his field of vision stemmed all the way into the alley below. In that same alley stood four people. Three of them, he had seen before. Three men--one stout, one lanky, one short. He had contacted Morita, the lanky, bespeckled man just that morning with a tip--something to help him with his less than savory career. The fourth person, however, he had never seen before--yet he knew exactly who she was.

A new mark of his, (Y/N) Brigall.

Said woman was effectively cornered, restrained by the youngest and smallest of the men. Izaya watched as Morita approached her with a cloth, no-doubtedly soaked in some sort of chemical. His eyes narrowed as it dangled over her face. For a moment, he felt a twinge of disappointment. He had done everything correctly, but he had yet to see the interest that was promised to him. However, the disappointment quickly dissipated as a shout rang through the air.

The boy that had been restraining her was now airborne, flipping over and colliding with Morita. The momentum carried them both into the third man. The three of them tumbled to the ground. Izaya was so engrossed in the spectacle that he barely noticed the girl scurrying away. He hums at the sight of the men, sprawled out and incapacitated on the floor.

Perhaps that doctor knew what he was talking about.

...

You wake up feeling like shit.

It took a few minutes to clear your disoriented head, but once you did, a wave of depression came with the clarity. It was 11:40AM. You had been asleep since yesterday afternoon, after you had made a spectacle in front of what must have been the entire city. Also, you’re a murderer. Also, your last name’s not Brigall. Also, your ‘adoptive father’ is not really your father, but some psycho who abducted you and tortured you for God knows how long.

Maybe you should just go back to sleep.

The sound of scratching and loud meowing dispels these thoughts. Could Renji sense when you were awake? Sighing through your nose, you swing your legs over the side of your bed. You pad over to your door and open it, looking for the ball of fur that you had been ignoring for so long. However, you barely catch a glimpse of her before she darts between your legs.

“Hey--!” She scurries out of your grasp and slides under your bed. What’s gotten into her? You drop to your knees and peer under the bed. It’s too dark to see much, but you can make out the swish of a tail right next to your headboard. You crawl over the bed onto the other side. “Renji, I know you might be mad at me, but this isn’t gonna do much.”

The cat returns your gaze, her eyes blown black by enlarged pupils. Oh, so she was just trying to play. You huff amusedly, finding a lightheartedness in how cute she looks. Cautiously reaching out, you poke one of her shoulders. She bats at your finger, rolling onto her side. You indulge her with a few more playful pokes until she’s fully fallen onto her back. Seizing the opportunity, you press your palm into her side and pull her out towards you. On an impulse, you quickly tickle her tummy. It felt like it had been forever since you’d smiled, even if it had only been yesterday.

As Renji finally rolls back on her feet, something beneath her catches your eye. Allowing the cat to crawl into your lap, you pick it up. It’s a card, white with tons of words printed on it. For a moment, you write it off as something insignificant--until you flip it over. There’s a small photo of you. You stand in front of a blue background, lips closed in a neutral line. Next to the photo was your legal name, your real name.

A learner’s permit.

You allow Renji to slip from your arms as your eyes scan over the small writing. It was odd to see such official documentation of yourself after searching so deeply for so long--but here it was. Your height, your weight, eye color, hair color, your date of birth...

Your eyes stop scanning. Something doesn’t sit right with you. You pull yourself to your feet, still gripping the card in your hand. Your desk is in a corner across the room and mounted above it is a cute, paper calendar. It was flipped to the current month of November, and printed in the top right corner was the current year.

The current year.

Rushing over to your laptop, you pull it open, clicking the button to turn it on. It powers on, showing the selfie of you and the Van Gang that you had chosen for your screensaver. In the taskbar, at the very end, the date is shown. November. The current year.

You grabbed your phone off of the bed and turned it on. At the top of the screen, the date is depicted in white, digital numbers. November. The current year.

When you got here, you thought that you were (Y/N) Brigall, adopted daughter of Neville Brigall, 19.

But, no--you were (Y/N) (L/N), a single mother’s daughter….23.

You were 23.

The permit slips from your grasp, clicking softly against the hardwood floor. Oddly enough, your heart was still, as if it couldn’t even find the strength to beat anymore. No, you were too tired to spiral again. All you could do was stand there in awe. Four years of your life. Those memories were spotty, floating somewhere in your subconscious. But you left them there, knowing that they were probably spent at the hands of some sadistic scientist.

And what had he done to your body? Made you stronger? ‘Better’? Stripped you of all you were--your memories, your personality. Turned you into this naive, air-headed little girl. Made you parade around in these stupid, stupid clothes…

You’ve marched into your bathroom. You met your own gaze in the mirror, eyes boring into every aspect of your reflection. You had fallen asleep in your clothes from yesterday. The jean skirt felt too snug and itchy against your skin. Your crop top had you feeling too exposed for comfort. Who would wear something like this in the Winter? What, had he made you immune to temperature, too?

“Don’t understand how you can just walk around carrying that jacket like an accessory. How are you not freezing your ass off?”

"How can you even touch that? Shit's piping hot!"

You yank off the garments, not even flinching at the sound of tearing. Practically flying into the shower, you turn the lever all the over to the hottest setting. It comes down freezing cold. Nothing. It begins to warm up. Nothing. It’s boiling hot. Nothing. A frustrated scream rips its way out of your throat. Your arm reels back, pounding against the tile wall. It crumbles, caving in around the shape of your fist. Your screams fall into sobs.

Brigall allows tears to fall, but delicately wipes them away, trying to muster a smile through the tears. (L/N) wallows in the pain, screaming through the chaos of tears and drool and snot. Which one are you?

Who are you?

...

The room is silent, save for the jingle of Renji’s collar as she weaves between your ankles. You sit on your living room couch, staring out of the long window beside you. You could see so much from here--it was soothing enough. Buildings differ in height, creating a dynamic cityscape. Far below, cars drive past, and from your distance they appear to move so slowly. Renji meows softly, climbing onto the couch and headbutting your hand. Even when you spiral and cry your heart out, even when you change into the drabbest clothes you had worn in months, the cat was still stuck to your side. You appreciated it...if only your friends would be the same.

You just know that they wouldn’t. Your heart aches. Even as you waivered between identities, the adoration you’ve developed for your friends stands strong. It was genuine. As the artificial naivete of your faux personality continues to fade, you only find more clarity in your feelings. It even seemed that, in some relationships, there was something there....a spark. But none of that mattered now.

A knock pulls you from your pity party. It’s sturdy and a little demanding--it scares the shit out of you, honestly. Your immediate instinct is to ignore it--probably a neighbor coming to complain about all of the screaming and yelling. There was nobody you could think of that you would want to see at the moment. Well, let’s rephrase. There was nobody that you’d want to see you at the moment. However, whoever it was, they were pretty persistent. Their silence rubs you the wrong way. Anyone would have started calling at this point. It’s only a matter of time before it actually starts to get on your nerves.

“Oh my god, what, what, fucking what!?” Huffing, you hoist yourself off of the couch, heavily stomping over to the front door. In a fit of impulse, you swing open the door without looking, running on the urge to give the person a piece of your mind. However, as you come face to face with dark, intense eyes partially obstructed by a beanie, your mind immediately goes blank. Kyohei’s eyes have gone wide as he stands there. You’re suddenly aware that, with your tear-blotted eyes and sweatsuit-clad frame, you look like a mess.

“...Is this er...a bad time?

Yes. “No,” you croak. You want to slap yourself the minute your voice cracks. The two of you stand there, staring at each other. Oddly enough, even as your gaze flutters to everywhere but his eyes, his own gaze is steady--focused on you. You don’t suppose he came just to stand on your front doormat. He wanted you to let him in.

You wanted to let him in--tell him about all that’s been plaguing you, ask for his advice, and listen as he reassures you through it all. That’s what you were always able to do...but you couldn’t exactly do whatever you wanted anymore.

So you cross your arms and lean against your doorframe, intent on staying right where you are. He notices this, sighing through his nose in that way he only does in response to Walker and Erika’s shenanigans. “The others are downstairs,” he says finally, flicking his head in a pointing gesture. The others--you missed them. How long had it been since you all hung out? You force a thin-lipped smile. “Tell ‘em I said hi.”

“They were kinda hoping to do that in person--they want to see you... I wanted to see you.”

Snap a quick picture, then. You bite your tongue. That’s not the right thing to say. That’s not what Brigall would say. No, Brigall’s heart is melting, sighing at the sentimentality of your friends’ concern--and feeling guilty for being the cause of it.

“Y’know, yeah, on second thought, this is a bad time. Sorry.” Yet you don’t close the door. You wait--for him to walk away, you tell yourself.

“That’s fine.” You finally make eye contact with him, taken off guard by his response. Kyohei only nods, not at all deterred. “But we could help you through a bad time...that’s what friends are for.”

Your heart clenches at the word ‘friends’. It occurs to you that Kyohei doesn’t know who he’s talking to. He doesn’t know that the girl he had become friends with was fading away by the second. Your fingers tighten around your own arms. “I don’t need help. Just some alone time would be great.” You back into your apartment this time, pushing the door closed. However, a hand pushes back against the door, stopping you.

Your eyes dart to Kyohei, who stands in the small sliver in the doorway. “If you think some stupid video is gonna change anything, you’re wrong.” Your wide eyes blink at him incredulously. He had never been this pushy before. He always cared, but he still carried an 'I won’t force you' attitude. It frightened you, knowing that running from him wouldn’t be as easy as you’d thought. “No one gives a shit what happens on the news or what rumors people are spreading,” he continues, his eyes staring directly into your own.

“It didn’t just happen on the news Kyohei, it happened. ”

“You really think we haven’t seen worse? You don’t have to start avoiding everyone, just because you’re embarrassed.”

“Oh, so you know everything now! You read my mind, I’m locking myself up because I’m embarrassed .” A mix of fear, helplessness, and shame overwhelms to the point that your tone begins to waver. Your voice is rising to compensate for its unsteadiness. Kyohei doesn’t raise his voice back and that bothers you more.

“No, you aren’t. I know you wouldn’t, so obviously, there’s something else.”

He was right. You hate that he’s right.

“There’s not, Kyohei.”

“Y’know, I have a hard time believing that--you and I both know that you could force this door closed right now if you wanted to, so something must be up--”

“It’s none of your goddamn business!”

A dam breaks. Your voice drops into an octave that Brigall wouldn’t use. You’ve gotten so used to tears in such a short time--you don’t even bother to wipe them away as they trickle down. You can only stand there, staring down at your own two feet. “Please, leave me alone,” you plead, your voice shrinking. You don’t look up at him, fearful of what look could have overtaken his face. Silence stretches out for what feels like an eternity.

The weight against the door suddenly dissipates, allowing you to push it closed. You can hear the sounds of footsteps, moving further and further away until they’re no longer audible. Pressing your forehead against the door, you allow your body to collapse, sliding down to your knees.

Fuck, what have you done?

...

Kanra: Anyone catch the spectacle that went down yesterday?Setton: You’re going to have to be more specific.Kanra: It’s all over the internet!Kanra: There’s a girl in Ikebukuro who’s just as strong as Shizuo Heiwajima.Kanra: Some wonder if she’s even stronger!Bakyura: Wait, that was real? I thought it was all special effects from Yuuhei Hanejima’s team!Kanra: Nope. People saw it in the flesh!Setton: People are really blowing this out of proportion without knowing all the facts…Taro Tanaka: I agree, Setton! I mean, stronger than Shizuo Heiwajima?Taro Tanaka: That’s just ridiculous ^.^Kanra: It could be true, though...Afterall, she’s withstood a hit from him before!Bakyura: Huh? What hit?Kanra: Wow, you guys should really keep up with the current events!Kanra: A month ago, people saw Shizuo hurl a traffic sign directly at her and it just bounced off of her like it was completely nothing!Setton: I don’t think that’s exactly what happened...It was definitely an accident.Setton: I’m assuming.Kanra: What do you think, Saika?Saika: Huh?Kanra: You’ve been quiet since you joined. Have you heard anything about this?Saika: Oh...yeah.Saika: I just can’t stop thinking about how frightened that girl must be. I wonder what she’s doing now…Bakyura: Yeah, me too.Kanra: Well!Kanra: I would love to impart more wisdom unto you all, but I am needed elsewhere!Taro Tanaka: Yeah, I should go too…Setton: Night everyone!Saika: Good nightBakyura: Later!

Taro Tanaka has left the chatSetton has left the chatSaika has left the chatBakyura has left the chat… (Private) Kanra : Hey, what’s with the lurking?(Private) Kanra: You didn’t say anything the entire time you were here...Not trying to ditch us, are you?

Sora has left the chat.

#durarara #durarara x reader #drrr x reader #kyohei kadota x reader #kadota kyohei #herculean

2 notes · View notes

deepdisireslonging · 1 month

Text

Choices: Epilogue

A month after the reveal of the Dealer, Wardlow hosts another Bull Session with new seats at the table. They finalize, as a group, a deal that benefits all of them.

Warnings/Promises: paperwork, thinly-veiled threats

Word Count: 1302

Chapter 11: Ace of Hearts

March 26, 1929

The dining room chairs creaked as the visitors readied to leave.

Joe finished making his mark, laying down the pen without flourish or theatrics. When he looked up from his seat on one end of the table, several of the other visitors shied away from his glance. As they should, he marked with a nod. Today, he was a visitor as well. Sitting far away from where he had eaten many a meal as the right hand. At the far end, directly across and directly in view, Wardlow stood up.

“Then it’s settled.” The War Dog watched Joe flick his thumb over the bottom edge of the page. “We are all agreed and mutually beholden to keep our previous violence to a minimum moving forward. Chicago is not a war zone, despite what the press accuses us of. And if we are able to handle… situations like men of business instead of bullets, then we can keep the law from breathing down our necks. Though,” he nodded at Jericho, “we appreciate your inflow of information from the force as always, as well as your… guidance of their warrants.”

Across from one another, Julia Hart did nothing to muffle her snicker. If Jericho had any inclination of telling her to speak her mind so he could answer, the slow way she dragged her finger down the front of her chest buttons stopped him. Her movements boldly outlined the blade there. And, in an effort not to repeat the experience from the last Bull Session, Jericho snapped his jaw shut. He nodded at Wardlow to mark his compliance, much to Omega and Co’s amusement.

Reaching over the table, Friedman picked up the paper they all had signed, with their aliases of course. On the surface of the ink, it was a simple agreement of donations to the city. Nothing about territory borders or about the agreement to cut down inter-family disagreements. If anyone thought to use this ambiguity for their benefit later, and stir things up, there was a spoken agreement that all the crews would send one person each to remind the offshoot of the new order. Friedman had been skeptical at first, but he had soon realized the benefit to his public image with such a paper.

He bobbed his head. “Will Miss Garnier be sending round a copy for all of us?” He mockingly caught his mistake. “My apologies. I had forgotten that she is no longer in your employ. But her voice, shall we say, is all over this. Did she write this for you before she left?”

Only Spears dared to see how Wardlow’s ire was hackled at the mention and veiled threat towards Esther. But the leader went on. “No. She didn’t write a word. Though she inspired it.”

“How is she?”

Joe hmphed. “Probably happy in her retirement with Starks. You flipped them.” He shook his head with a sniff. “Not how I would have done it.”

“Yes, and we all know how you would have done it. How you tried to do it.” Adam Cole leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbows on the table while Britt Baker smiled dangerously at his side. They were keeping separate territories, having separate enterprises. And with Cole’s arrival, Joe’s controlled move, and Jade Cargill’s new entry, the table was crowded by the three new spots.

Unperturbed, Joe leaned back in his chair, crossing his hands over his stomach like a baron who had everything he wanted. “Do you even know where they are? That they aren’t planning something? It is Starks, after all. He can’t sit still for long.”

If anyone caught the glance he slid over to Cargill, Wardlow didn’t care. If anyone did see, he didn’t care what they thought either. “I don’t know, and I don’t care to.” He leveled his gaze with his former lieutenant. “And even if I did… I wouldn’t tell you.”

“Finally,” Joe grinned, “a smart stance.”

In only a few more minutes, the meeting broke up. Wardlow invited Omega and the brothers to stay for drinks but was relieved when they declined. Once everyone was gone, he and Spears would walk the contract to the office safe, which had, surprisingly, been Joe’s suggestion. After all, he did know more than anyone how secure it would be there than anywhere else. All the combinations had been changed in the house, though.

At the door, the last one there, Joe paused when putting on his hat and coat. “You’ve grown up quite a bit, boy, since I last saw you,” he grinned, “on that windy day in February.”

Warmly, Wardlow took the hand offered to him. “Thank you. And you seem more at ease, now that you’re not having to sneak around.”

That made Joe’s smile disappear. He remained cordial until he walked out the door, but he would always be a threat.

The clattering of a tray announced Mrs. Anne’s entry into the office a half-hour after the contract was sealed away. She prepared their drinks while Spears eyed the small plate of tea biscuits. “Another successful meeting. If I might request-”

“I’ve already arranged it. We won’t be hosting the next one.” Wardlow took his cup of coffee (with only a splash of milk) and settled into one of the high-back chairs in front of his desk. Spears took his cup of coffee (with a single sugar lump). And Ares rested his head on his master’s knee. Still, the housekeeper lingered. “Yes, Mrs. Anne?”

She hesitated. “Do – do you really not know where they are? Or even if they are – if they are alright?” Her knuckles paled and recovered as she wrung her hands. In the other chair, Spear’s cup hovered between the saucer and his lips as he waited for the answer.

Wardlow took a careful sip of his tea. “For their safety, I don’t know any details, no. But-” he saw Mrs. Anne’s shoulders perk in hope. “Ms. Cargill is keeping tabs on them by way of Taz, since he helped get them out. The less we know, the better. It means they are doing just fine. I have also been assured, that if they ever need help, we’ll be notified.”

“Thank you, sir.” Mrs. Anne breathed a sigh of relief. “That is – that is good to hear.” With a dip of her head, she left.

But a careful nervousness still shivered in the room. Spears reached out for a biscuit off the tray. “What about what Joe said? It is Starks. Think he’ll actually stay out of the business?”

“Absolutely. He’d never willingly endanger Miss Garnier.”

Spears nibbled at the edges of his treat. “Think Joe will try to tie up loose ends?”

Another careful sip. “If Joe wants to bother Cargill for news, he’s welcome to. But I’d like to have a ringside seat when he tries. He’ll discover she’s a force to be reckoned with.” He smiled. “He was right. Starks won’t hide for long. He’ll find trouble eventually. But we also know Esther – Miss Garnier. She’ll keep him out of the worst of it.” He placed his cup and saucer down with a clatter. “Speaking of ringside seats, Taz has already reserved us some tickets for his kid’s opening match. Facing some newcomer known only as the ‘Creole Heat.’ Would you like to go? He sent two tickets.”

It took a second to register. When it did, Spears almost choked on his drink. “So – he, they – yeah. Why not? Let’s see how the professional’s fight. Maybe we’ll learn something.”

“Maybe we will.”

And maybe, Wardlow hoped, they’d see a familiar feminine face in the crowd watching a familiar fighter known as the ‘Creole Heat.’

\\\***///

Bonus info: the date of this meeting was the date for Purim (Esther’s holiday) in 1929.

Note: Thank you all for reading! This series has really been a labor of love. Now that it's all posted and shared with you, I am relieved. But you know what's funny? I wasn't even finished with the final edit for this series before my brain was coming up with scenes for a completely separate new project! I have no idea if/when that might come out, but keep an eye out.

Thank you to my beta readers for giving me insightful feedback. It made the final edition of this series the wonderful, polished version it is. I wouldn't have felt confident enough to post this without your help and loving feedback.

As always: comments, gif and emoji reactions, and reblogs are super appreciated. If you don't know what to say: let me know who you thought the Dealer was! That was the most fun with my Beta readers seeing how their guesses changed with each chapter.

***

Choices Masterlist

#original series #finale #1920s au #aew fanfiction #wardlow #samoa joe #shawn spears #britt baker #adam cole #jade cargill #chris jericho #kenny omega #matt jackson #nick jackson #maxwell jacob friedman #julia hart

3 notes · View notes