#Maybe on the job got marked by the eye and by death early on due to a case or smthn

[cronchy-cryptid]

More TMA Thoughts

So...

Like...

What If the barista guy Agnes dated had been cursed/marked by an entity that allowed him to survive her flames.

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Like what if he was marked by death so he turns into a skeleton at night or smthn. Like a wereskeleton.

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And maybe that's not enough. May be he's marked by the desolation so he can withstand her heat. So, maybe like a flaming wereskeleton.

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And 3's a good round number, so what if he was also marked by the eye so he can see into the souls of people and judge their souls and actions? Maybe he could burn the eyes out of rude people or somthin idk...

.....

...

...

SO WHAT IF THE BARISTA WAS GHOST RIDER?

[whaleofatjme1920]

In the Backyard Catching Fireflies (Hoodie X F!Reader X Masky)

In the Backyard Catching Fireflies

[Hoodie X F!Reader X Masky]

[Warnings: slight blood]

You honestly could have dreamed you would be in this type of situation if you were looking at this from the lens of last year's Reader. It was a mistake to even make contact with them to begin with.

As a child, your mother would often bring you into the woods to look for fun things: flowers, mushrooms, rocks, sometimes bones or pieces of trees. Other times, she brought you out there to practice her own magick, other days it was just to spend time in nature, and every other time than those reasons was just to spend time with you, her one and only beloved daughter. The correct term would be ‘witch’ but your mother never actually called herself one. Magickal practitioner, maybe, but never a ‘witch.’ You, on the other hand, absolutely took that term with pride.

You being a witch was what accidentally caused you to meet them to begin with. One evening, while out and about in the forest on the edge of town where you looked for fresh violets to eventually make violet syrup for your daughter’s ‘magical creature tea party,’ you found your favorite stretch of woods filled with the scent of blood. How strange, and it didn’t strike you as an animal’s blood. No, this was much stronger, more metallic, and carried the weight of sins past in its wake. As you looked around the forest to see what on earth was causing the terrible scent, you saw two men get spit out in between the trees. They flailed for a moment before getting tossed onto the forest floor, looking so much worse for wear.

“Oh my gods!” You exclaimed in surprise as you began to run over to the two, wondering if they were okay. You drew cautiously near them, only momentarily pausing to grab a large stick from the ground should they pounce when you finally got close enough to see their faces. How peculiar - their faces were covered. The one in the yellow hoodie had a ski-mask with a frown etched onto its surface, and the one in the tan coat was donned with a white mask with feminine features.

Your eyes flicked down to their midsections - that’s where the blood came from. They’re out cold, and you confirm that by trying to get them up. No dice. Against your better judgement, you load them onto your little wagon and bring them back to the car. It wouldn’t be right for you to just… leave them to bleed all over the forest floor.

You entered back into your house around the early evening, tired from trying to drag two grown men much bigger than you into your garage and set them up so you can work on them.

“Mommy?” Your small daughter’s voice piped in as she popped her head through the door leading to the garage where you were. “Who are they?”

“Got hurt,” you replied. “Can you get me the first aid kit?”

Your little girl smiled widely and nodded before she quickly zoomed back into the house. “Make sure to get the lavender and rosemary oil too! Can you do that for me, Magnolia?” You called out.

You heard your little girl running around as if she went back to get something. She eventually came back to the door, her arms full of things she thought you needed and the things you actually needed. “Thank you so much, baby,” you said with a small smile, petting her head as she put the things down on the table for you. “Go upstairs and watch some TV for me, okay? I don’t think I want to overwhelm our guests.”

At the sound of being able to watch more spongebob, she zoomed off and allowed you to get to work.

You mentally asked the two men before you to forgive the intrusion as you lifted their shirts to get at their wounds. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen something like this before. Is that… Are those claw marks? You dab a piece of cloth with some isopropyl alcohol and move to the white masked man and get three of the four lines cleaned when he awoke. His eyes shot open and his hand was gripping painfully tight at your wrist.

“Who the hell are you?” He asked in a panic, struggling to get you off of him in his half awake state. “Where are we?”

“Woah!” You cried out as you attempted to wriggle your hand free from his grasp. “I’m just cleaning you up-”

“Where are we?” He’s rattling off questions so fast and so loud that it wakes the second one up.

Due to you not being able to hold him down as well, he was able to pounce up and pin you to the ground, ready to end your life.

“Agh- stop!” You cried out in shock. “I just wanted to patch you two up!”

The man in the ski mask looked into your eyes for any hint of lying, or deception only to find none. Still, you were a normal person getting involved with two proxies. That in itself warrants death according to their society’s rules - and the Slender Man’s will.

“Wait,” the man in the white mask sighed. “Let her finish this up. You’re bleeding out on the floor.”

On cue at his comrade’s words, Hoodie glanced down to his midsection. He was indeed bleeding out on the garage floor and by extension, you. Realizing he was in no state to even consider inflicting damage, he relented.

An awkward silence quickly built up once you were back working on them. “So… What’re your names?”

“Hoodie.”

“Masky.”

“Interesting names,” you noted as you continued to work. “I’m Reader.”

“Interesting name,” Masky mirrors.

You laugh slightly.

That wasn’t the last you saw of the two men. They left almost immediately after being patched up much to your chagrin, but came back about a week later to properly thank you.

“We noticed some spell books in your garage before we left,” Hoodie began before nodding for Masky to go to the back of the car (they stole). “One of them being florals and it looked like you had some space in the front of your house. So, we brought you some flowers.”

You move your vision from over Hoodie’s shoulder to see Masky holding planters full of flower’s you’ve never even seen before. “Oh my gods,” you said in slight surprise as Masky places the small bushes down in front of their designated spots.

“We can plant them for you - or if you don’t like them we can-”

“No, no! They’re beautiful and the front lawn needs some color,” you beamed, looking at the array of colors dotting your front lawn. “How did… Where did you even find those?”

“We know a guy,” Masky said as he went back to the car to get a shovel.

You ended up going out there to help them plant the flower bushes and spent some more time in their company while you worked.

“So, tell me about yourself,” Masky said as he began to carefully place one of the shrubs into the dirt.

“Too broad,” you teased slightly.

Masky rolled his brown eyes. “You and magick.”

“My mother practiced, now I do,” you replied as you gently scooped back some of the dirt. “Most of it is home related work, but these plants are such a big help.” You took in their sweet scent. Come to think of it, you don’t think you’ve ever seen these types of flowers before anywhere. “What about you two?”

“Travelers, of some sort,” Hoodie piped in. “Never stay in one place for too long.” He glanced over to Masky to continue.

“That’s pretty much it,” Masky whistled slightly. “Used to be film students. Now we just… Go wherever the winds take us.”

From there, you began to hear stories from the two. Mostly little adventures they’d gone to, creepy towns they never wished to visit ever again, people they wished they stayed in contact with and everything and anything in between. It was actually rather nice to talk to other adults - and while they were relatively quiet about their past past, they seemed at ease talking with you about these things.

In return, you told them about other memories and anecdotes in your life. Small memories of climbing up the mountain with your mother, meeting your friends, your academic adventures and what brought you out to this part of the country.

“Wanted to get away from it all, I guess,” you said as the three of you sat on the front porch. “Figured it would be better to start again out here than face everything that had happened back there.”

Hoodie shared a look with Masky for but a moment. You hadn’t gone into detail about what happened back then, but they could somewhat fill in the lines with their experience of the world so far.

They came by plenty of times after that - sometimes together, sometimes not. Most of the time they stayed on your porch with you, chatting away about the day’s events and what would come next. You told them about your job, a teacher’s assistant to middle schoolers, and how you often passed your time. They eventually showed you their faces - and lord were they handsome - and still refused to tell you about their actual work.

“It’s dangerous, that’s all you need to know,” Hoodie had said one night while sipping a beer bottle.

Yet, they seemed to come by even more than usual when they met your darling little girl, Magnolia. Somehow, they’d managed to avoid her and her them throughout all their visits, but one afternoon near the beginning of the school year, that all changed.

She’s only 7, and the school bus often lets her out about a block from your home. You trust her enough to walk there and back (though another part of you wants to hold onto her forever and never let go).

“What time is it?” You hummed, sipping at your iced tea.

“About… 3:30, why?” Masky asked as he looked at his watch.

You immediately perked up. “She should be home soon,” you said eyes wandering from the two men on the steps with you towards the direction you knew your little girl was going to be coming from. And just like clockwork, there she was.

“Mommy!” She cried out, a large smile on her face as she began to run the rest of the way to the front steps.

“Mags!” You giggled as you maneuvered your way through the two men before hurriedly meeting her half way. “There’s my special little girl,” you laughed, taking her into your arms, picking her up and spinning her. “How was your day?” You ask, carrying her in your arms as you make it back to the front porch.

Masky and Hoodie move aside slightly as you sit back down with Magnolia on your lap.

“It was so fun! Today, we talked about bugs!”

“You did?” You asked as she nodded rapidly. “Tell me all about it while I get you something to drink and a snack, okay?” You said as you put her onto the steps before standing and opening the front door - and propping it open so you could still hear her and see her from the kitchen.

“We learned all about butterflies and what happens when they’re babies and become pretty,” Magnolia began to explain. “And then Miss Honey said we were gonna get caterpillar babies in our classroom and release them later. And then, she told us about bees and how bumbly they are-”

You listened to Magnolia go on about her lesson with a small smile as you fixed her some iced tea and apple slices. You could listen to her all day. When you failed to answer one of her questions, you heard Masky picking it back up for you.

“Hey Mommy? Why is the sky blue?”

A beat of silence because you honestly didn’t hear it.

“The atmosphere,” Masky began as he looked up at the perfectly azure sky. “You know what the states of matter are, don’t you?”

Magnolia nodded. “I do! Solid, liquid and gas,” she answered.

Masky smiled back and nodded. “Yeah, that’s it. Atmosphere is air and it covers the whole earth like a blanket,” he explained.

“It does?”

“Absolutely,” Hoodie chimed in.

Magnolia looked in between the two men with stars in her eyes, urging them to continue.

“The atmosphere changes the way that light from the sun reaches us,” Masky continued. “Light comes to us in wavelengths,” he moves his hand up and down like ‘waves’ to show what he means. “And those wavelengths look different depending on what they hit,” he claps his hands together, “and how long they are.”

“Do shorter wave… wavelengths show different colors?” Magnolia asks, clearly enamored in Masky’s teaching.

“Smart girl,” Masky chuckled softly as he ruffled her hair.

You finally come back from the kitchen with Magnolia’s snack and drink, more than pleased to see how well Masky and Hoodie were doing with her. Magnolia was admittedly a shy girl - she never really warmed up to people easily, especially not men given the situation with her father (who you’d rather not think about most days).

“And what about rainbows? Are those wavelengths?”

Both Hoodie and Masky laughed slightly before entertaining your daughter’s question as she sipped on her drink and bit into the apple slices. You watched with a small smile as you listened to the three talk.

After meeting Magnolia, Hoodie and Masky were more often at your house than not. And it carried on like that throughout the school year.

Masky often helped Magnolia with her science and math when you didn’t (feel like it).

“Mhm, and how many do you need to add to 5 in order to make 9?” Masky asked, eyes

glancing between your daughter and her math worksheet.

Magnolia smiled widely, “It’s 4.” She said it so confidently that you felt your heart burst from the living room.

“Good job,” Masky smiled back just as widely. “I’m sure you don’t know what you have to add to 8 to get 15, do you?”

“7!”

“Gods, you are so smart,” Masky chuckled warmly, hand once again ruffling her hair.

Hoodie was much more inclined to help with her reading and language arts skills. Seemed he had a knack for those things over math and science anyways.

“Spell bridge.”

“B-R-I-D-G-E.” Magnolia said with a grin.

Hoodie nodded. “Alright, how about… Believe?”

Magnolia furrowed her eyebrows slightly but gave a stab at it anyways. “B-E-L… I-E-V-E.” I before E, right?

“Good one. And laughter?”

“L-A-U-... F-no… G-H… T-E-R?”

“Nice job!” Hoodie complimente in an excited tone, scooping Magnolia up onto his lap making her burst into a fit of giggles. “You are seriously gonna kick everyone’s butt at the spelling bee on Friday.”

While they grew closer with your little girl, you noticed they had also grown oddly close with you as well. It came in little bouts - sometimes Masky would be cuddling with you on the couch while you watched the late night news. Hoodie would sometimes spend time with you in the garden and help when he didn’t have to - he was there just because he wanted to be with you. There were some days when they’d get you little trinkets, plants and herbs to help with your magick. Masky would even remind you of the full moon so you could put a jug out for moon water - and Hoodie would inform you of when the planets were in retrograde to potentially explain any odd behavior (remember: mundane of magickal.) They were helpful. Other times the three of you would spend the day together and eat brunch and act like your own individual family unit. And in your own unique way, you were - what with Magnolia now referring to the two men as her ‘aunt Hoodie’ and ‘uncle Masky’ much to the former’s original hesitance to accept that title.

It wasn’t just you feeling this way either, it was both of them as well. Masky was surprised to see how fast Hoodie had grown to care about you as Hoodie doesn’t really care about anything anymore. Maybe himself, definitely Masky, and definitely the other two in their group - but that’s it. To care for a human and her child… That’s admittedly out of pocket for him. They’re not sure what exactly to call it, maybe it’s love, but it’s a different kind of love. One that doesn’t have a name.

Ever since they entered your life things have been better. Life has been sweeter. Your little girl is more outgoing than ever and she’s finally coming out of her shell with not one, but two positive male role models.

And that led to now. The sun had finally dipped below the horizon and the stars were coming out to play. Magnolia was about to go on summer break - and the four of you had been planning on visiting the beach sometime soon. There were a lot of things to look forward to (another magical creature plus aunt Hoodie and uncle Masky tea party) being one of those things.

“Careful with the jar, Mags,” Hoodie said as he handed Magnolia a good sized mason jar to her awiting hands.

“I will!” Magnolia said before she zipped outside the backyard.

“Masky, you want anything to drink?” Hoodie called out from the kitchen as you got together the materials for s’mores.

“Lemonade, if we have it,” Masky replied.

“Good choice,” Hoodie mumbled before turning to the fridge.

After the two of you had everything you needed, you and Hoodie went out to the backyard and started to set everything up on the glass table Masky sat at. You settled into your seat as Hoodie got a fire going in the pit and when that was ready, he let it burn and took a seat at the other side of you. With Masky to your right and Hoodie to your left, you felt an odd sense of peace.

“It’s a nice night, yeah?” You hummed out in content as you watched your baby dance around with the fireflies.

“It sure is,” Hoodie agreed, hand lightly resting on top of yours.

“Ditto,” Masky smiled, arm now around your shoulders.

In the grass, Magnolia giggled as she caught fireflies, admiring how beautiful the flashes of green looked as they danced through the swaying leaves of grass.

[the-lady-writes-what]

21. Hizashi Yamada and Shouta Aizawa

          Theme: Fox spirits/gods

          Kinks: Threesome, double penetration, biting, marking, praise kink, oral      (receiving), breeding kink (if you squint), polyamory/polyandry

Sorry this is a little late. My brain was like, I know I said I was going to make these short one-shots but how about we make them bigger? 

(The gif has nothing to do with the story, obvi)

Masterlist

You climbed up the many steps leading to the shrine. This was your last resort. The humiliation induced by your vicious ex-boyfriend still left gashes in your heart. Your curse was that you fall in love too quickly and are blind to all faults until it's too late. Your most recent misadventure in love had been so cunning, so cruel that you wasted three years of your life with a man who was, in the words of your best friends, a massive cunt. Manipulative, emotionally abusive, but the cherry on top was the rumor he spread about you having an S.T.D. you'd gotten while cheating on him. Mind you, he was the one with the sexually transmitted disease. You were spared because you hadn't slept with him in recent months. The sting was a deadly blow to your self-confidence and trust in men.

After months of battling depression and anxiety, your aunt suggested a remote village trip and visit this exact shrine. Upon arrival, you were acutely aware of all the women either paired off or visibly pregnant. You noticed this at arrival. It was small at first—a lot of couples paired off, two by two like swans. Then, when you approached the marketplace and asked for directions, you noticed how the shopkeeper was pregnant, along with her sister and sister-in-law. There weren't many single men or single women as far as you could tell. Even a male couple looked happy.

You wanted to burn this town to ashes.

It was insulting, really. You came all this way just to have happiness and love shoved in your face while you, the miserable wretch, were forced to pine. You tried not to scowl as happy couples passed you by. Keeping your eyes focused ahead of you was all you could do to avoid knocking the smiles off their faces. Now, here you were, mounting the steps to a shrine shrouded by pines and red maples. Leaves rustled on the steps, which drew your attention. Fallen leaves littered the stairs and the shrine's sacred grounds, but that seemed awfully unauspicious. Was there no groundskeeper, no shrine maiden, no priest to clear them away? As you reached half-way up the hill, you noticed the smell in the air. Not a bad smell, but it was pervasive all around. The scent invaded your senses. It smelled a lot like jasmine and patchouli. You didn't think much of it and thought it was just someone burning incense at the shrine.

Two masculine figures lounged in the garden. One looked indifferent while the other moped. The latter was blonde; it matched the protruding fox ears on his head and the fluffy, swishing tail patting his thigh. He rested his head on the lap of the former, who appeared much like him except his hair, ears, and tail were black as ink. This one wore an indifferent expression. He looked out into the garden as he made a mental list of all the things he had to do around the shrine. Weeds had encroached where they weren't wanted during the summer and now choked the garden. Fall arrived early this year and made the trees shed their leaves too soon. The steps, as well as the grounds and roof, were covered in maple leaves. The inside needed moping, shining, dusting, and replacing oil lamps. There was still the matter of the hole in the sanctuary's ceiling that needed mending. But was there any human around to do it? No. The last priest died over fifty years ago. Shouta, the black fox, and Hizashi, the blonde fox, had been left alone to answer the whims of pilgrims.

It was almost thankless work. Ensuring happy marriages, love matches, and fertility was hard work when one was forced to clean their own shrine. As long as they were tied to this spot, Hizashi and Shouta had no other choice. The only thing more embarrassing than a shrine-god having to clean up his own shrine was a homeless one.

"I'm starting to miss the old man," said Hizashi. "He was so much fun to drink with. At least he had a sense of humor. Unlike the other fuddy-duddies, they tried to send us."

A few months after the last priest's death, his congregation tried to settle another to take his place. The successor was stern and took his job too seriously for Hizashi's liking. 'He's too dull,' Hizashi used to complain. Shouta wasn't much of a fan either, but it was more due to Hizashi's constant sighs and complaints that drove him to chase the priest away. Shouta ensured that no other settled down for too long. As far as the pair was concerned, the priest who died fifty years ago was their last worthy priest.

"It's so boring and lonely up here. There's no one to play with," Hizashi complained.

Shouta rolled his eyes. Hizashi was in one of his moods again. Boredom took a toll more on him than his 'co-worker' and sometimes lover. It was easy to get bored of making love for fifty-odd years while still working a thankless job. Only occasionally did some old lady or grateful newlywed came to offer incense and drop a donation. Whenever there was money, even a scrap, either Shouta or Hizashi would venture down the hill to mingle with the humans for a little bit. Men or women often flirted with them, but they couldn't decide on a partner they could both enjoy. Instead, everyone was declined.

"Maybe we could call up Nemuri and see what she's up to?" Hizashi suggested.

Shouta gave a flat answer. "No."

Hizashi pouted and went back to his pouting.

"You're no fun," said Hizashi.

"I know." Shouta petted Hizashi's ears to placate him.

Suddenly, a shudder rippled through both of them. They looked at one another. A smile quickly spread across Hizashi's face.

"We have a visitor!" He jumped up at once and dusted himself off.

"We have visitors all the time," said Shouta, but this was a lie. Visitors became fewer after the summer once pilgrims got their desire.

"But did you feel that, Shouta? A poor, miserable, broken-hearted young woman just crossed the path of our statues, and she's heading this way. Don't you feel it? Oh, the poor dear?"

The shrine-gods knew the hearts of all those who entered. It was their specialty to work in all the matters of the heart and the bedroom. Sniffing out broken hearts was a talent they both shared, but Hizashi was the more sensitive one. A fractured heart held an aura that most humans couldn't detect by sensing it alone. Sometimes it was a trifling matter. This time, however, Hizashi felt far more significant pain. Betrayal called out to him like a widow. He hadn't even seen the woman's face but could smell her despair, hate, and ache from miles away. She needed help.

Shouta felt it too. He pitied the human and wondered what brought her to that state. His curiosity was peaked, which didn't happen very often, if at all. Her presence was a sad one, and it threatened to taint the whole shrine with her negativity. Negativity drew hungry ghosts and pesky imps like moths to a flame. All of that meant more work for him. Aside from wanting to protect what little dignity his shrine had left, it was his duty to help this miserable wretch.

"Can we introduce ourselves, Shouta?" Hizashi's bright green eyes twinkled with mischief, hope, and something else Shouta could not easily define.

Shouta weighed the pros and cons in his head. By the time he came to a decision, he could hear the woman walking into the courtyard. Her voice was carried on the autumn wind. She was curious too, likely wondering why a shrine was seemingly left abandoned and in disarray. It would be rude to let her go forlorn after a trek up the hill.

You passed under the second torii gates and a second pair of fox statues. There were no lion-dogs as you saw in most other shrines, but this one had a strong love for foxes apparently. You looked at the water in the pavilion used for ceremonial purification. You cringed at the slightly brackish water and used very little to purify your hands. As soon as you got to the nearest restroom, you were going to scrub your hands raw. Walking down the narrow path leading to the inner sanctuary, you kept noticing very odd things. The shrine was in massive disrepair with cracks, debris, and brackish water. It wasn't a complete eyesore, but something did not feel right. There was not a soul you could find; loneliness pervaded every inch of the place. You pulled your jacket tighter around yourself as you walked on. You found the spot where wishers and pilgrims wrote their prayers on wooden plaques to hang them up. While there were plenty of rustling in the wind, they weren't very many. You scrawled your desire for a loving partner, happiness, and to forget the man who wounded you so deeply.

You hung the plaque alongside the three dozen blowing in the wind. You went further ahead to pay your respect at the small public shrines built on the side of the shrine's complex. There were only two buildings. One foot across, seven feet long, and six feet tall, they were impressively big for small shrines. These were the only buildings uncovered by leaves and pines branches. You marveled briefly at their pristine appearance. In your bag, you brought along the incense your aunt prescribed. You retrieved two sticks of carnation incense and dipped the stick end in the bowl of sand. You lit the incense, clapped your hands twice, and said a prayer. You did this twice at both shrines.

You turned your back to face going all the way down the hill again when you spotted something at the corner of your eye. At first, it seemed like your mind was playing tricks on you. Out of the corner, you thought you saw a ball of glowing blue light flicker in the window of the main shrine. The main shrine was off to limits to everyone but the priests and shrine maidens. This was where the kami, the god, was housed and worshipped by the clergy. You turned to see if what you saw had really been there. Another flash of blue flickered in the window and then another. You swallowed hard, but curiosity pinched at you. You wanted to know. With a quick glance around, you wandered over to the main shrine.

You cut over the grass and walked into the oratory. There were no voices or footsteps other than your own. You called out to anyone who would be listening, yet no one answer was given. Your voice carried down the halls. However, just because no one answered, it didn't exclude the idea altogether that no one listened. The hair on the back of your neck stood on end as you drew closer to what you assumed was the forbidden connecting hall that led into the inner sanctuary, which was supposed to be off-limits to the public. As far as you could tell, no one was around to stop you or tell you no.

You took a deep breath and crossed the threshold. Your heart pounded inside your chest. The halls were so dark you had to grope around just to find a wall. You tried to turn around and head out only to get yourself more lost. It was as if you were stuck in a maze. Every direction looked the same, and turning around seemed to make matters worse.

In desperation, you called out, "Hello?"

Still no answer. You trekked further in the hopes of running into someone, anyone, and get them to show you the way out. You hoped that they had a flashlight on hand. You would barely make out your hand in front of your face if you held it up.

Another flash of blue had you whirling on your face. You whipped your head in that direction. Shivers ran down your spine as you felt a pair of eyes bore a hole into the back of your head. It didn't feel like something glaring at you, but the sensation frightened you nevertheless. You took off in the direction of the blue flash. Yet another appeared up ahead, further along than the previous. You started running after it. More appeared, and each grew more distinct in shape and color than the last. You managed to get close enough to hear the hiss and flicker of its fire. You stared at a ball of blue flames with its tongue licking the air. It disappeared into nothingness and reappear off in a different direction.

You found it hovering in front of a set of shoji doors. It disappeared once more. Lights flickered behind the rice paper. You pried your fingers against the seams and pushed the door open. Lamps lined the walls. They burned with pale blue and white flames behind their screens. You approached with caution and gripped your bag straps tight.

Wooden floors creaked beneath your feet. You mentally cursed yourself for dragging your shoes inside the holy place, but the longer you glanced around the room, the more it seemed that this was not an ordinary shrine. The room had a lower portion accessible by three steps, and a red mat covered much of the space. A shrine rested on the floor on the other side. In each of the four corners was a vase that held carnation flowers. Somehow, all the flowers were in perfect condition and thrived in the forgotten space. You stepped carefully towards the shrine when you felt something behind you.

You looked over your shoulder. Not something, but someone and just a someone but someones. It wasn't the fact that you finally met another person at the shrine or that they were men that gave you alarm. It was the ears sticking out on top of their heads, the tails swishing back and forth behind them, and the regal manner in which they bore themselves. The one in a black yukata folded his arms across his chest and looked quite serious, probably because you were trespassing. The other man wore a red yukata, but he appeared far more friendly than his companion. He smiled broadly at you as if you hadn't just broken one of the most sacred, unspoken rules about behavior at a shrine. You swallowed hard and bowed from the waist.

"I am so sorry for intruding, sirs. I-I didn't mean to intrude…I got lost and couldn't find my way out. I'll leave immediately if you just show me the way. I promise I'll never come back and disturb another shrine so long as I live!"

"Easy there, little sparrow. No need to get riled up," said the friendlier one.

Slowly, you raised yourself up. You looked at them again, still bewildered by their ears and tail. They were either the strangest priests you were likely to ever come across, or they were—

"What business do you have here?" Asked the more somber fellow.

"I-I" You choked on your words. "I had a boyfriend who did rotten things to me. I was hoping to, to, um, to…" Your voice trailed off.

You were too distracted by the fox ears on their heads. They looked too real to be fake, but how was that possible?

The blonde one snapped his fingers.

"My eyes are down here, love," he chuckled.

Your cheeks darkened with embarrassment. "Please, if you could just tell me how to get out of here, I'll leave you alone."

Your first instinct would be to bolt for the door. When you glanced behind them, the doors had been shut when you remember having left them open. Were these demons standing in front of you? Is that why the shrine seemed so empty?

"Leaving so soon? But you haven't even heard our proposal yet?" Said the blonde.

Your brows furrowed. "P-Proposal?"

The black-haired fox-eared man slipped something out of his yukata sleeve. It was your wood plaque you left hanging outside. His ebony eyes gleaned over your wish and read it aloud.

"I don't know who will answer this, but I want to find true love, a life partner who will never stick a knife in me and twist. A man, or frankly anyone who will love and care for me. Please bring me happiness and make me forget about the man who abused me for three years. Is this your wish, Y/N?"

Your face drained of color. "How do you know my name?"

"We have our methods. I'm Hizashi. The dour one is Shouta. It's lovely to meet you."

"W-what are you?" You ventured to ask.

"We're the shrine gods. It's been lonely up here for a while now. The priests haven't been to our liking for the last fifty years, so we're forced to take care of the place ourselves, which is rather insulting if you think about it," said Hizashi.

"And…what are you the gods of?"

"Love, fertility, happy marriages, love-matches, all that fun stuff," answered Hizashi.

"Are you the reason why every other woman I met in town is pregnant?"

Hizashi answered, "Of course. We've been blessing this region with successful pregnancies for centuries. There hasn't been but a handful of miscarriages in all these years thanks to us."

"We're not the cause of the pregnancies if that's what that face is for, Y/N. We just ensure that the infant comes to term and reduce sterility in men and women," said Shouta, who had apparently been studying your face very closely.

Your blush darkened.

"Otherwise, this town would be full of half-fox spirits roaming around, wouldn't it?" Hizashi laughed.

"Okay…" You thought for a moment about what you were going to say next. This was all too surreal, but this was better than feeling miserable. "But what do you want from me?"

Hizashi and Shouta exchanged looks. A soft smile crept upon Shouta's face.

"We'll grant you your wish. On a few conditions," Shouta began. "As you can tell, our shrine is in dire need of—what do you humans call it nowadays? T.L.C.?"

"Tender love and care?" You said.

"Yes. That. Our shrine has been in disrepair for some time, but as much as the villagers enjoy making offerings, they aren't too keen on cleaning it. As you can imagine, it's rather embarrassing cleaning up your own shrine," Shouta continued.

"So, what you're saying is that you'll get me a decent boyfriend if I clean your house?"

"We can do better than, little sparrow," said Hizashi.

You felt his eyes wander your body. You couldn't help but shiver. Out of fear or anticipation, you couldn't tell at this point. You might have been hallucinating for all you knew.

"How would you like to be the wife of a god?" Hizashi laughed again. "Or two?"

"W-Wife? I just wanted a boyfriend who loved me. I don't remember asking for polyandry. Besides, why would you tie yourselves to someone human and mortal."

"We can cross that bridge when we come to it," said Hizashi.

"What do you say? Help us repair the shrine, and you'll have something better than a boyfriend. It sounds like a good deal, doesn't it?" Asked Shouta.

"Yeah," you said incredulously. "A little too good to be true. What's the catch?"

"You would have to live here and 'maintain' the shrine's cleanliness and reputation. We could get someone to teach you to perform the kagura dance. Learn a few things that would make you useful around the shrine and to the villagers. A shrine maiden, for all intents and purposes."

That did even things out. You weren't tied to your apartment, especially since it still had the ghosts of your past boyfriends lingering in there. You didn't go to college, and you hated your job. Becoming basically a shrine maiden and marry a pair of fox-gods seemed like a step-up from your hum-drum life.

"Hypothetically, if I agreed to all that, how would we go about making it official? Are we to have a big wedding? Does Ōkuninushi* have to be involved? Is there supposed to be a ceremony we have to follow?" The questions tumbled out of your mouth one by one in your unusual state of mind.

"So many questions. To answer all of them in one go, here it is. All you have to do is enjoy yourself," said Hizashi.

Before you could ask what he meant, Hizashi closed the gap between you. His mouth was suddenly on yours, and his hands settled on your backpack's straps. Your load was unburdened by your shoulders. Hizashi's hands ran through your hair, holding your head hostage. You heard Shouta's footsteps come along beside you. He worked your shoes off your feet and your socks as well. When he arose, Shouta's hands found your waist. He snatched your head away from Hizashi to kiss you himself. From there on out, it was a frenzy of hands, mouths, and tongues teasing you.

The first thing to go was clothes. Hizashi and Shouta worked together to get rid of the annoying layers that kept them from feeling up more of your skin. Your autumn outfit suited the chilly weather outside but was ill-fitted for their current needs. Their hands peeled off each layer of clothing until you wore nothing but your bra and panties. Somewhere between removing each item of clothing, one of them summoned an extra-large tatami mat out of thin air. You landed softly on the sleeping mat, cradled between them. Their kimonos were disposed of in the same manner as your modern clothes, with one exception. They were both utterly naked underneath their yukatas. Your blush spread down to the top of your chest at the mere sight of their hardening members.

"You look so pretty blushing like that, Y/N," said Hizashi.

He took his place between your legs. Hizashi playfully snapped the hem of your panties. He seemed to enjoy your small yelp as the elastic snapped against your skin. Shouta sat on his knees and pulled your back flush against his chest. He unclipped your bra and tossed it aside. Hizashi pulled at your underwear until the fabric tore. You opened your mouth in protest, but all the words stopped in your throat to make room for the moan. Shouta palmed your breasts and tweaked your nipples into stiff peaks. Your ruined panties were forgotten as soon as Hizashi settled one of your legs over his shoulder, and he ran his long tongue along your slit.

"It's been a while since we've laid with a woman. You'll have to forgive us if we're a bit rusty," said Hizashi.

Hizashi ran his tongue along your slit again and hummed at your taste. His tongue dove between your folds and pinched your clit. Meanwhile, Shouta kept at his administrations to your chest and kissing your shoulders. You arched your back when you felt the tiniest pinprick of sharp teeth graze your skin. Shouta smirked at you and gave you a nice look at the fangs he had. Hizashi had the same situation going on. You could feel his teeth carefully caress your sensitive bits.

"Do you like my teeth, Y/N?" Asked Shouta.

You bit your lower lip and nodded.

"Then you're really going to like this." Shouta lowered his head to the spot where your neck met your shoulders.

He bit down, but not hard enough to draw blood. His hands continued to tease you while his mouth and teeth left dozens of love bites all over your neck. Hizashi pulled his head up from between your legs. He watched for a moment how your face twisted in ecstasy as Shouta marked your lovely skin. It didn't take long for the idea to get in his head that he should do the same. Hizashi brought his teeth against your inner thigh and nipped. He repeated the process over and over until both of your legs bore his teeth marks and hickies. You squirmed for them. Heat traveled in two directions, to your head and your lower belly. Hizashi resumed his task of fucking you with his tongue and added two fingers to help him in this endeavor. Soft squelches from you gushing over him was enough to make you never want to leave.

"You're so pliable, and your breasts are breathtaking," Shouta sighed next to your skin. "Are you about to cum, Y/N?"

You bucked your hips to the rhythm of Hizashi eating you out. Slowly, you nodded. Your fingers clutched Hizashi's head, mindful of his ears.

"Then," Shouta whispered the next part in your ear. "Cum."

Hizashi worked faster, pumping and licking your cunt. You grabbed for Shouta as pleasure ripped down your spine. Hizashi and Shouta shoved you face-first down the precipice. Your walls clenched tight around Hizashi's fingers and tongue while your jaws hung open. No one else could make you moan as loud as you did. And likely, nobody else ever will.

When Hizashi came up for air, his mouth and chin were drenched your essence. He leaned up, but instead of kissing you, he planted his lips on Shouta's. In turn, Shouta licked Hizashi's mouth to get a taste of you for himself while he was at. Shouta reached down and played with your clit while making-out with Hizashi briefly. You felt their members stand proudly against your body, and your inner walls clenched at the thought of one or both filling you to the brim.

Shouta and Hizashi kissed one more time. Hizashi peeled you off of Shouta just long enough for the latter to stretch out on his back. You were turned around. Shouta gestured with a 'come-hither' crook of his finger, and you crawled towards him. His hands grabbed your hips, made you straddle him, and pressed the blunt head of his cock against your slippery, wet cunt.

"Are you ready?" He asked. It was child's play holding you up like that with his cock more than ready to impale you.

You nodded your head. Shouta slowly, carefully pulled you down on his cock. It stretched you open again. You sank down on him until you were fully seated. You tried not to let your eyes roll into the back of your head. Shouta then grabbed your shoulders and pulled you down. Hizashi was right behind you, fisting his cock. He wasn't as big, but he was just as long. Hizashi placed his other hand on the small of your back. You felt his cock probe the area where Shouta was already preoccupied. Something clicked in your head. Shouta grabbed and clutched your hands. Beads of sweat ran down the side of your face while Hizashi brushed his cuck against your cunt.

"Look at me," said Shouta. "Look at me. You're going to be fine. We'll make you feel so good."

"So very good," Hizashi cooed.

You tightened your grip on Shouta's hands. You stared at his face as Hizashi pushed forward, stuffing you close to the point of damage. You were well-lubed up to take both of them, but in practice, this was your first time having two men fill you at the same time. Inch by careful inch, Hizashi pushed into your cunt. When he was fully seated, he let out a long sigh.

"I can feel both of you against, and it feels so good." Hizashi shuddered.

"Can you move?" Shouta asked Hizashi.

"Give me a minute."

You were given a few minutes reprieve, and in that time, you felt your lower belly swell. You felt them stretch you to impossible measures. Though tears stained your cheeks, you never felt more pleasure. The mixture of both pleasure and pain blurred the lines. It wasn't long before you were being pushed and pulled in either direction, their cocks fucking you deep.

Wet skin slapped against skin. The men you were sandwiched between grunted and moaned your praises at your ability to take them both so deep. There weren't any words you could say with any cohesion. Words became meaningless when being fucked into oblivion. Hizashi and Shouta worked in tandem. When one pulled out, the other plowed right in. Both cocks kissed your cervix as they drove themselves, and each other, wildly into your cunt. You felt fluids rush between your legs that mingled with your sweat. You squeezed Shouta's hands and buried your face in his chest.

Higher, higher, and higher still, you were flying. You bit Shouta's chest as their cocks thrust in and out. Your brain turned into mush at this point. All you cared about was getting fucked on their cocks forever. Little else mattered beyond that.

"I'm close," said Shouta.

"M-Me too," said Hizashi.

"Then let's finish it."

Without another word, they started to drive faster than before, and you thought it was impossible. Shouta returned your bruising grip and rammed upwards to meet Hizashi's downward thrust. They both moved quickly and headed towards coming undone inside you. You felt it too. Your walls spasmed and fluttered around both their cocks, though the stretch made it hard to tell. They shifted into an erratic pace rather than a smooth move. Their cocks drove harder into your cunt. Animalistic grunts filled the room as both Shouta and Hizashi slammed home. You screamed your climax just at the same time they did. You kept screaming while ropes of cum warmed your belly. You were moaning into Shouta's chest as you felt buckets of their seed filled your womb. There was nothing for you to wonder about why they were the gods of fertility and pregnancy.

Hizashi pulled all the out first. He massaged your shoulders while Shouta lifted your hips off him. Hizashi's long fingers dabbed some of the cum dripping down your thighs and pushed it back inside your weeping pussy.

"You gotta keep it in, ya, little sparrow. You want to be a good wife to your husbands, don't you?" Hizashi cooed.

*Ōkuninushi- mentioned in both the Kojiki and Nihon Shoki as the god of nation-building, agriculture, business, medicine, love, marriage, and fortune

[jesuisgourde]

gay/queer references in Peter’s journals

Again, I have probably missed stuff due to going through pretty quickly and also due to having stared at this document for so long, everything has kind of blurred together.

Sometime close to the day that Carlos & I watched 'Love And Death on Long Island' (and afterwards paraded through the tea rooms of Picadilly) we both filled in application forms and were tres excited to be invited to the same group 'interview' - twas more like an audition though. I got the part. Carlos never. This did not bring any animosity - we both know that success for either of us is magnified a million times if it is shared by us both.

from 'A Diamond Guitar' by Truman Capote "Except that they did not combine their bodies or think to do so, though such things were not unknown at the (Prison), they were as lovers. Of the seasons, spring is the most shattering: stalks thrusting through the earth's winter-stiffened crust, young leaves cracking out on old left-to-die branches, the falling asleep wind cruising through all the newborn green. And with Mr Schaeffer it was the same, a breaking up, a flexing of muscles that had hardened. It was late January. The friends were sitting on the steps of the sheep house, each with a cigarette in his hand. A moon thin and yellow as a piece of lemon rind curved above them, and under its light, threads of ground frost glistened like silver snail trails. Tico Feo had been drawn into himself - silent as a robber waiting in the shadows."

Then a meet with Bounds Green's African prince outside whitechapel tube, rugged lookies at I in military attire & to a ruptured Albion rooms tidied in hours and now lids drawn heated on the eyes. A young looking fella has a crush on me.

Jackie/Camillia/Marie/Kate/Chris/V. churchill Jackie/Evelina/Jasmine/Sachi/Dalston/Sussie Sandra/Carlene/FP/Jay/Dalston/Kraut

There sat a young black man, perhaps in his early or middle twenties. He looked for all the world like the archetypal rude boy. Clean, cheap reebok, nike, adidas variously rolled, laced & zipped about his lean, spreadeagled body that hung loosely about the waiting room chair. Gold & tattoos adorned his person, and a blank animal look was attached to his clear face. He sat before me in a row of four empty chairs, staring at polished floor or the mundane television. A balding white man minced in & all perceptions were suddenly proven to be false as they embraced and snuggled up to each other, giggling & whispering & touching each others noses.... very much in love, fingers crossed for the blood tests.

[Image: an article from Gay Times of an interview with Peter. For some reason, the portrait included alongside the article is of Carl wearing a grey and black t-shirt.] Name? Peter Doherty Age? 22 Where are you? I'm on the motorway just north of Southampton. What kind of day are you having? (Vaguely) Erm... quite misty. Something's waiting around the corner, but there are no corners on the motorway, so we'll just have to wait and see what lies ahead. Maybe something will happen tonight.... What's this we hear about you once being a rent boy? Well, when times are hard, duty calls. How long ago was it? When I was 19, about three years ago. How do we know this isn't just a Shaun Ryder-type lie? 'Cause if it was, it would make me a complete scumbag and I'm not, and I'm not interested in that kind of pantomime. It wasn't a very happy time. I didn't really enjoy it. Why did you give it up? (grimly) Well, certain people disappeared... and anyway, ultimately I found myself no longer in such a vulnerable position anymore. Dawn broke, and I realised that it was a beautiful world after all. Have you done any other dodgy jobs? All of us in the band have tried to deal, but it's not good if you like the drugs too much. You just end up using them yourself! I once was a gravedigger. I used to do it with my mate in Willesden Green cemetery. We didn't actually do the digging, a machine did that, but we used to have to fill them in. It was pretty grim work. So are you gay then? Love is love, wherever it comes from. I'm not anything, really. I am a very sexual person but... I dunno, I believe in liberty... The Marquis de Sade has a lot to answer for... Do you get a lot of gay fans? Yeah - well, there's one guy in particular. He's very shy and he follows us around. He brings in letters and cards and stuff, but he's very quiet. I think John (the bassist) is the main pulling power in the band. Are you jealous about that? Nah! I've known him too long.

You know I'm alright i dont even care i like it when they stare & stare call me queer, dear oh dear a million things & what I wear He's real hard when he's with his mates but I'll saw him again & he was too late

Dear NME I'd have thought after the Gay Times piece, the interview with Rapture fanzine & our recent gig at the Slum Club everything would be clear. No it still remains to give a big hearty fuck off to all these twisted suburban types calling me a liar. Vulnerable young men & women all over the world find themselves victims of circumstance.

she was dressed in suit & tie & lightly etched-on moustache. 'I've always wanted to kiss a bird in the back of a taxi.' she says, running her hand up the fishnet ladders of my thigh. Stepping onto the front line in Bow puddles, elevators, buzzing doors,

[Image: the original page in the book has been preserved. Two paragraphs have been boxed off with biro. They read:] “...cast Richard Burton and Rex Harrison as bickering queer barbers and then much more uncompromisingly in William Friedkin's adaptation of The Boys in the Band (1970), which introduced some of the plainer four letter words in the English language to the screen for the first time. 'Who,' asks Cliff Gorman, in his brilliant portrayal of the most effeminate of the homosexual group as they gather for a soul-searching party, 'Who do you have to fuck to get a drink around here?' Other homosexual manifestations to occur in movies around this time included an elliptical but unmistakeable male fellatio scene in John Schlesinger's Midnight Cowboy (1969) when Jon Voight, as a broke and disillusioned Texas stud importunes in a New York cinema....”

[Image, top left: a blurry photo of John onstage, playing bass. Image, top right, sideways: a photo of the band onstage. Carl and John are on the left, sharing a mic. Peter is on the right, playing guitar and singing into his own mic. Image, centre left: a torn photo of Peter sitting in a chair, shirtless, playing guitar. Only his bottom half from the chest down is visible. Image, centre left: a torn photo of Peter sitting in a chair, shirtless, playing guitar. Only his top half from shoulders up is visible. Image, bottom left: a torn fragment of a photo. What looks like a denim-clad knee and a yellow carrier bag are visible. Image, bottom middle: a photo of someone's knee in torn jeans, taken from under a table. Image, bottom right: a torn photo of Carl in a black sleeveless shirt, posing with his fingers in his mouth.] [A paragraph from the original page of the book has been left exposed and boxed off with black biro. It reads:] “The Boys in the Band was displaced by an immeasurably more powerful portrayal of homosexual groups, Fortune and Men's Eyes (1971). Set in a Quebec prison, this disturbing, factually based drama vividly recounted the corrupted of a heterosexual convict trapped in a tough, potentially vicious homosexual society. In one horrifying scene, a weak, put-upon prisoner is gang-banged by his fellow inmates; in another, the 'hero' is blackmailed by his cellmate into accepting him as his lover for the duration...”

Like a cat on a hot tin roof Like a macho man in a roomful of poofs I have tried in my way to be free.

[Written in Peter's handwriting] Jerome... is that how it's spelt? [Written in someone else's handwriting] Yes it is [Written in Peter's handwriting] Can I read you something? [Written in someone else's handwriting] Yes please.....

I insist, new book of Albion, befuddled by drugs I may yes about 2 but I do not miss out entirely on the subtleties of the inhuman relation ships that are this the mainstay of my stay here in one bounce of a loaf. Boys are fooled into fooling with boys. [...]

More general references/some extra explanations:

“The boy looked at Johnny” is a line from Patti Smith's song “Horses,” part one of a three-part song called “Land.” In the song, a young man named Johnny is assaulted by another man in a locker room; he then mentally journeys to other fantastical lands and visions. A lot of people interpret it as being about gay sex, although some people interpret it as being about a stabbing.

Peter quotes and references Jean Genet's writing and works about Jean Genet many times. While Genet's works are nearly all about crime and prison (one of Peter's main interests and points of fascination), all of his works are very explicitly gay. The Thief's Journal is more about Genet's various lovers than it is about his criminal history. Our Lady Of The Flowers is about a drag queen and her criminal lovers, and is also extremely erotic.

(“Jerome” is Jerome Alexandre, vocalist of The Deadcuts, who was friends with Peter and Mark Keds.)

[poppi-fields]

LFRP —→ 𝓔ndymion 𝓦eiss

The Basics ––– –

Age: Early thirties? Probably?

Birthday: 5th sun of the 6th Astral moon

Race: Viera (Veena)

Gender: BORN TO DIE / WORLD IS A FUCK / Kill Em All 1989 / I am trash / 410,757,864,530 DEAD COPS   [he/they]

Sexuality: Pansexual panromantic

Marital Status: Single, never married

Server: Balmung

Physical Appearance ––– –

Hair: Black, scruffy. (Some would say ‘tousled’.) Prone to letting it grow long out of sheer laziness. Probably cuts it himself.

Eyes: Heterochromic; left eye is pale pink, right eye is cerulean blue. Often sparkling with mischief or curiosity or feverish joie de vivre.

Height: 5′11″.

Build: Twink. Lean, lanky, with long legs and soft hands. Characterized by short, sharp bursts of movement, except when bored or tired- then he leans, he lolls, he drapes, he slinks, he curls.

Distinguishing Marks: Typically has any number of scars hidden away under clothes- they fade with time. Pierced ears.

Personal ––– –

Profession: All-around odd jobber; if it pays, he’ll probably do it.

Hobbies: Guns, and tech in general- especially Allagan or Garlean make. Vegetarian cooking. Mischief™. Giving caffeinated beverages to unattended children. Money, money, money. Deep philosophical discussions. Guns (again).

Languages: Fluent in Common and the native Vieran language. Has passing/conversational knowledge of some other commonly spoken languages, such as Hingan and Xaelic.

Residence: Not cool or rich enough to have a place of their own.

Birthplace: Wouldn’t you like to know?

Relationships ––– -

Spouse: N/A

Children: N/A

Parents: I mean, they probably exist.

Siblings: Who knows?

Other Relatives: None of note or importance.

Pets: N/A

Traits ––– -

* Bold your character’s answer.

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between /  Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

Additional information ––– –

Smoking Habit: Yes. Drugs: Oh yeah. Alcohol: Absolutely.

RP Hooks ––– –

He can’t die. No, seriously. At best, he ends up unconscious for a little while, but somehow, inevitably, he comes back every single time. How? Why? What? Nobody knows- certainly not him. And he’s not all that interested in interrogating the matter. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t! (Or maybe you’re just terrified. That’s understandable.)

He’ll take on the dangerous jobs you don’t want to. Due to his interesting circumstances, Endymion has found a comfortable niche doing jobs that pay big gil because nobody else wants to do them. Actually, he’ll take on anything that pays good- his love of money easily outstrips any pain or suffering that comes along with it. Combine his blatant disregard for bodily harm with his deep passion for firearms and you’ve got one dangerous bunny on your hands.

He’ll do illegal stuff too. ACAB, baby.

He’s got... ‘problems’. Even if he comes back whole every time, each death leaves its toll on Endymion's body, sometimes in the form of pain that can take weeks or months to fully absolve. He's turned to illegal substances to help ease this pain- if you can provide, he's willing to buy. Even better if he can trade his services and save his gil.

Got other ideas? By dint of his mischievous nature and go-with-the-flow attitude, Endymion can wind up involved with all sorts of disparate folks and plots for as simple a reason as curiosity. This also extends to creating preexisting connections. I've got no qualms about jumping into a relationship already established, as long as it's properly discussed beforehand.

Contact Information / Other Information ––– –

Out Of Game: Message this Tumblr, or drop an ask/starter! I generally try to get back as quick as I can, but I work mornings/afternoons so please have patience ♥ 

In Game: If you see me running around, feel free to send a whisper or a wave! Hopefully I’m not AFK :’)

Endy’s carrd can be found at thousandenemies.carrd.co

The real suffering in Endwalker is the queues.

@balmungrp​ @ffxiv-crystal-rp​ @xiv-lfrp​

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Secrets ~ 1

Warnings: noncon sexual acts later in series

This is dark!Bucky and dark!Steve and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: A buried family secret comes to light thrusting you to the forefront of an old alliance.

Note: Bruh, other series are still going. At least one update a week for existing series in future, I promise! Probably more. 

This was semi-inspired by The Princess Diaries but obviously we’re not going highschool. 

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You found it hard to focus on the lecture. You copied the slides without processing the words. You couldn’t tear your mind from the unusual stranger. The one who had slipped from the room not ten minutes earlier. The one no one else seemed to notice; even the professor as she outlined the fall of the Roman Empire.

You did because you were early every week. You sat in the same seat, pulled out your notebook and pen, and put your phone on silent. You’d worked too long to screw this up. Years of saving and scrounging just to pay the application fee, bursaries awarded for your volunteer work and nearly forgotten extracurriculars from high school.

So, you noticed. The man sat in the back row with not a possession before him. Silent, discerning, and to be frank, a bit too old for the student body. Even you, after several years away from academics, thought so. You used the reflection in your phone screen to watch him and when he stood and left without cause, you angled it after his departure.

Perhaps he had come to the wrong room. Or maybe he had got the wrong time. He could be an older student or a guest speaker. Whatever he was, he was gone and you needed to focus. You didn’t have much time outside of class to revise your notes. Between your job at the campus bookstore and your intern position at the museum, you didn’t have time for anything beyond a few hours sleep.

You packed up as the lecture came to an end. Tuesdays, Professor Halren went over the week’s material and Thursdays you had a class discussion on the assigned articles. Basic, simple, but at least eighty pages of reading a week. You climbed the steps between the rows of tables and passed through the upper doors. The east entrance down the rear stairwell was the quickest exit.

You tossed your bag in the passenger seat of your crummy used Honda, parked in front of the burger joint several blocks away from campus parking. It cost you more to park on-site than it did for the beat-up contraption itself.

You drove to the museum and got out, your lanyard around your neck denoting you as a volunteer. You usually worked the help desk or handed out pamphlets for upcoming tours. Most of the time it was quiet enough for you to study in between visitors.

Sheila was the curator on duty that night. She kept to her office, saying she trusted you to direct the rare patrons who arrived on a Tuesday night. As expected, it was dead. You wandered around with textbook in hand, occasionally looking up to check that you were alone.

There was a man by the chart of Greek gods and their relations. A spiderweb with no end. You closed your book and quietly set it down on the nearest bench as you kept an eye on the man. It was him, the one from the lecture hall. A frightening coincidence. He leaned closer to the diagram then turned away, walking, no marching along the wall and rounding the corner into the next section.

Your heart was beating; in confusion and fear. You followed, carefully not to let your shoes click as you did. As you reached the next corridor, he was nowhere to be seen. You continued on, around corner and corner, on and on, looking up and down the walkways. He was gone.

You came back to the bench where you left your textbook. You glanced around one last time and opened it. Behind the cover was a ribbon, a tricade of red, white, and blue, a star emblazoned three-quarters of the way up embroidered in gold and silver. You’d seen it before but none so new as this.

You held it up and felt it between your fingers. You closed the book again and tucked it under your arm. You went to the next wing; medieval history. You walked along the timeline of European kingdoms, below each was a display of royal families of each. 

The same ribbon, aged and frayed, laid beneath the kingdom of Astrania, marked by the house of Rogers. A long storied bloodline thrust in and out of power by civil wars and politics well into the twentieth century. A country that stood still, one of the few who still lauded a monarch, as famous as the Windsors in England and beyond. The last vestiges of long lost era.

You shoved the ribbon in your pocket. It was likely a souvenir from some commodified tour of the country. A forgotten novelty sold for pennies and shoved into a used textbook. You shrugged and headed back to your usual spot among the ancient civilizations. Strange things happened. That was life.

👑

You spent your few hours before midnight writing up your rough draft for Life and Death in Ancient Greece then finally crashed. You slept on your back, uncomfortably; a heavy, exhausted sleep. You woke to voices. Your mother’s and another. One you didn’t know.

You checked the time, it was barely seven in the morning. You grumbled as you sat up. Your mother’s tone set you on edge as her voice rose. You stood and crossed to the door. You turned the handle slowly, listening through the crack of the door as you eased it open.

“You get out of my house.” She snarled. You’d never heard her sound so vicious. “I am not that person anymore. I never was.”

“You can hide behind a name,” The deep voice replied evenly. “It doesn’t change your real one.”

“My father is dead, his name died with him.” She hissed. “I won’t tell you again to leave.”

“Or what?”

“I’ll call the police, asshole.”

“I’ve been sent here under the banner of diplomacy, what are they gonna do?”

You stepped out as the argument continued, your mother growing angrier as you tiptoed down the hallway to the kitchen. She grabbed a frying pan from the dish rack as you stopped in the doorway and she waved it at the man standing on the other side of the table.

“I’ll just have to make you,” She warned. “Now go--”

“Mum,” You rubbed your eyes. “What’s going on?” You looked to the man as he turned to look at you. It was the same man from the day before. You recoiled and pressed yourself to the wall. “Who is that?”

“No one. He’s leaving.” She edged around the table and drew back the frying pan.

He didn’t move. She swung and he caught the pan as his palm deflected it away from his head. He wrenched it away from her and tossed it away.

“Sit down, your highness,” He glared at your mother as he clanked the pan against the table.

You frowned and looked at your mother. Her eyes glinted at you and she shook her head.

“You will not tell my daughter what to do,” She scowled. “Not in my house.”

“You can send me away now, but I’ll be back.” He looked around the kitchen. “Looks like you can afford a fine lawyer, indeed.”

“Lawyer?” Your mother spat.

“There’s a contract, Princess,” He sneered. 

“There is no kingdom left. No crown, no throne.” Your mother neared and grabbed your wrist, drawing you to her. “My daughter does not belong to anyone.”

“Your own father signed the accord. We paid our dues, even after his fall, we expect you to fulfill your end of the contract.”

“My father is dead,” She pushed in front of you, shielding you from the man. His square jaw twitched and his blue eyes glimmered defiantly.

“As his heir, you would acquire his responsibility. She is his first born granddaughter.” The man asserted. 

“She has no title.” Your mother insisted. “You can see we have no wealth, no holdings. We are displaced; we are common.”

“Princess Karissa of Ecklun,” The man addressed your mother, “Her daughter, Duchess of Brey. You needn’t land to uphold your titles… and your obligations.”

“The contract is old. Outdated.” Your mother countered. “There are other duchesses. Real ones.”

“The contract is legal still, it has been upheld to this point and there is no clause for annulment. Unless of course you have the funds to buy out the agreement.” He challenged. “Fifteen million, with interest.”

Your mother was silent. He hand squeezed your wrist. 

“I never received any of these payments you claim to have made,” She said.

“In a trust, as stated in the contract, to be accessible upon the day of marriage.” He declared. “If you insist, however, I can return with my legal council… and a military escort.”

Your mother let out a long breath. She released you and shakily pulled out a chair from the table. “Sit,” She gestured you forward and drew another chair out. “I’ll entertain your… discussion.”

You stepped forward and sat and she did too. The man across from you lowered himself into another chair and set down his briefcase on the floor. He reached inside and drew out a bundle of papers. He slid them across to your mother.

“If you’d like to look over the terms,” He smirked. “You’ll see all is as I said.”

“He couldn’t find another bride?” She spat as she ignored the contract.

“Not legally.” He insisted and looked at you. “Forgive me. I didn’t introduce myself, your highness. James Barnes, I am a representative of the Astranian court.”

“I don’t--” You blinked. “I don’t understand what’s--”

“Yes, apparently your mother has created a convincing ruse here in this… slum,” He sighed. “What do you know of your grandfather?”

“Don’t talk to her.” Your mother snipped. “Talk to me.”

“She must know--”

“I will explain. That is my responsibility. My right.” She sneered and grabbed the papers. 

She flipped the first page, then the second, she continued as she hastily read through it. You peeked over her shoulder but she kept turning away to block you. When she finished, she turned it face down.

“You signed it, Princess,” The man said.

“I was sixteen.” She said. “I was still a child.”

“You were a married woman.” He returned.

“A girl forced into a ring.” She slapped the paper. “And you would have me do the same to my daughter?”

“You already did,” He said plainly. “And she is older. Quite a few years, in fact.”

“It took you years to find us,” She grinned. “You think you’ll be as lucky again?”

“You are being watched. You have been watched.” He pushed his shoulders back. “We have waited long enough.”

“Can someone tell me what the fuck is going on?” You said.

The man, Barnes, looked at you. Appalled.

“I will,” Your mother squeezed your arm. “Mr. Barnes.” She turned back to him, her head held high. “Might you allow me some time to prepare?”

“To run?” He challenged.

“If we are being watched as you say, that should not be an issue,” She sniffed. “You must understand the circumstance.”

“I do understand your negligence,” He raised a brow. “One day. That is all I can allow you.”

He left the contract and stood. He took his briefcase and nodded to the table. “A copy for your records.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a card and flicked it onto the document. “My information should you require it.”

He bowed his head and turned to leave you. The door opened and closed loudly as he strode out the back door. You sat, perplexed, and reached for the contract. Your mother caught your hand. She turned to you and drew your hand back with her.

“Honey,” She said softly. “I need you to listen to me. Just-- don’t talk, just listen.”

“Mum, I--”

“You’re going to hate me. I know that hate, I felt the same for my own father. I would not blame you for hating me even more than that.” She said grimly. “But please, there is much I need to tell you. That I should’ve told you before.”

“I don’t-- I don’t understand.” You sputtered.

“So just listen,” She pleaded. You nodded and your stomach bubbled nervously. “You’ve heard of Ecklun? You were always so fond of history.” You confirmed and she continued on. “And Astrania. Occasional allies until the dissolution of the former… but that all doesn’t matter.” 

Your mother hung her head. 

“My father knew the tide was against him. He tried to rally his reinforcements, he made promises to those he thought could help. He was the king, you see? He was dethroned, we were all thrown out of the country. I tried to… stay with him. Tried to make him move on but he wouldn’t. So after I had you, I left. Your father didn’t want to let go either and he refused to come with me.”

She touched her cheek and shuddered.

“It was all gone so I thought that meant it was over. Everything. The promises, the debts.” She shook her head. “I tried so hard to start over. For you. But… Your grandfather promised you to the heir of Astrania to fund his personal guard. The same that ejected us from our home.”

She twined her fingers together then pulled them apart. She gulped before she found her voice again.

“That heir is now in power,” She could barely look at you. “And you… you are to be his wife.”

“I-- no, they can’t-- it--”

“I thought I could stop it. I didn’t think they’d want it still but-- I always hated how backwards it all was. Bloodlines, lineage, privilege… It was all so ridiculous.” She huffed. “I-- tried. I failed.”

“You ran once, we can--”

“That man found me. I am not foolish to think he did not come with back-up. I have seen what happens when you undermine others. I have seen the ugliness of it. I can’t say what’s worse; to let them have you or to refuse and suffer further. You don’t know how-- I was stupid enough to think I could ever outpace them.”

You gaped at her. Shocked, angry, sickened.

“And now I can’t stop them.” She uttered.

“You didn’t tell me,” You breathed. “You should have told me.”

“I’m sorry--”

“I have school, work...I… No, they can’t. I have a life!” You stood and the chair wobbled.

“Honey, please,” She got to her feet. “I know how it feels. Trust me. My father, he did the same--”

“So what? Family tradition?” You scoffed. “They can’t make me. I’m staying. I’m going to school, I’m working. I’m not--”

“You don’t have a choice.”

“I won’t go!” You shouted.

“They’ll make you.”

“How?”

She looked at you. Her face was grim, her wrinkles more apparent than ever before. She didn’t need to say.

“They can’t--”

“They’ll find a way.” She muttered. “They always do. I’m so so sor--”

“So I’ll make them drag me,” You said. “I’ll fight it.”

“It’s treason--”

“It’s the twenty-first century!”

“Not there. It’s not the same as here. There’s no one to stop them.” 

You didn’t know what to say. You hit the table and swore. You stormed from the room and slammed your door before you fell onto the bed and screamed into your pillows. 

It was a dream. It had to be a dream!

[nct-lian]

nct 127’s relation to lian

TAEIL + LIAN: IL-LI

taeil used to wake her up for school when she was still a teenager :((

such a soft but overlooked duo

will appreciate each other forever and ever

lian teaches him roasts in english that he can say to johnny

remain each other’s hype man and woman

taeil was the first to suggest he and the other nct members react to the trailers of her dramas on video so they can boost them in popularity

promotes the HELL out of lian’s solo career over twitter

lian loves coming up behind him and just giving him hugs because he’s soft (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞

they watch movies together a lot! but taeil has to come down to the fifth floor because lian hates it up on the tenth one

he was once able to grab her hand in an airport and they held hands the entire time :(( a few pictures went a little viral

they share hoodies NSHDHSHCJA

lian keeps bugging him to get an instagram

taeil will ALWAYS take her side in silly arguments she and the other members have sometimes

he makes fun of her height because she’s shorter than him-

he also used to help her with her homework :(

cried when lian went on her first date

“my child is growing up (´∩｀。)”

had to do a background check on the guy before he even allowed him to come in contact with her again, though

JOHNNY + LIAN: JOANN

johnny is her dad, period

no questions asked he is her father

will give her piggyback rides all the time

he was once woken up by her jumping on his bed and asking if they could go shopping

at 6:00 am

he actually got up, got ready and took her shopping but since it was so early, the stores were all closed

he took her out for japanese fluffy pancakes, though!

whenever lian is sick, johnny makes her his mom’s homemade chicken noodle soup recipe :((

speaking of johnny’s mom, she loves lian to death and always asks johnny if he’s taking good care of her

if they’re not being asked any questions or having to translate anything during interviews, they always whisper jokes in each other’s ears to try and make the other one laugh

because of how lian dies during the trailer of her new drama, johnny cried in front of twenty-two other men while they reacted to it

he was NOT embarrassed

“how are you guys not crying? this is so sad. what a cruel world we live in ໒( ˵ •̀ □ •́ ˵ )७”

kept screaming at lian’s “dream of you” performance video

“WHY ARE YOU ON THE GROUND DANCING LIKE THAT?!” “JISUNG COVER YOUR EYES-“

he once effortlessly picked up lian and moved her somewhere else because she wasn’t standing where she was supposed to be

everyone says that their ship name is something a white, suburban mom would be named. now nctzens pronounce joann like “joanne” ･x･

it was said on the zach sang show that johnny used to measure her height every month to see if she grows or not, and that’s the only reason why he has her height memorized

TAEYONG + LIAN: LIYONG

has lost lian in so many airports it’s not even funny

“hyung, what happened to lian?” “oh, you have GOT to be kidding me-“

whenever he doesn’t see her he goes into panic mode and starts asking if anyone has seen his little sister

“about this tall with really shiny hair? her cheekbones are insane, i swear. OH OH OH SHE WAS WEARING JOHNNY’S HOODIE- you don’t know what johnny’s hoodie looks like.. okay, well thank you for your help.”

one of the first members that she was comfortable with

lian said that he was her role model :’(

as the leader, he’s always taking care of her and will not sleep until he knows for sure she’s eaten

because of how lian never participated in any of nct’s first bit of promotions due to being too uncomfortable around them, she was allowed to skip out on the viewings of their relay video letters

but she was still required to make one for somebody and that somebody was taeyong ˵ ຈ ︿ ຈ ˵

she said that she was glad he was her leader and that she hoped to become closer one day

he cried

declares that he will take care of lian till the day he dies

taeyong had yelled at lian’s former manager until he voluntarily quit working for her- he had found out that lian was being overworked to the point where she collapsed during their dance practice and he wasn’t okay with it

always cheering her on backstage when she performs solo

he always tries to include her in guiding the members for their dances because he knows how happy it makes her

instead of having her carry her glasses around with her, he does it instead :D

“nana, do you have to wear your glasses now?”

taeyong tucks her into bed every night he can ᕕ( ཀ ʖ̯ ཀ)ᕗ

YUTA + LIAN: YUN

totally doesn’t have feeling for her, yeah

yuta is obsessed and when i tell you he’s obsessed, he’s obsessed

did i mention obsessed?

he’s jealous of everyone :(

yun stans insist that the only reason yuta is so touchy with winwin and mark is because he’s trying to cover up his feelings for lian

bye if that’s true-

hyuck wanted to give her a hug (a rare occurrence) and yuta straight up just said,

“mine. go away”

i have proof guys :// johnny recorded it and literally posted it on instagram

lian died internally when yuta cut his long hair because she couldn’t put it into ponytails anymore :((

but his hair is growing back now so she’s able to do it again :)

yuta teaches her japanese every tuesday and thursday!

we don’t bring this up because it’s pretty embarrassing but,, when nct 127 were backstage before performing kick it, yuta asked doyoung (who was in a direction where he could get a clear view of lian’s face) if lian was staring at him

how do we know this, you may ask?

it was caught on camera and everyone made fun of him for a solid week straight

he’s caught staring at her from afar way too often for comfort

lian says that he’s very pretty

much like the other memebers that have instagram, he makes story countdowns that he posts about a week before lian plans to release her solo music

DOYOUNG + LIAN: LIDO

another member of the lian protection squad

doyoung was the first to start calling her cupcake

it all started when doyoung was sick and lian made him cupcakes to make him feel better

will slap anyone who makes a flirty remark towards lian

was embarrassed for yuta when he asked if she was staring at him

said “no” and walked away

lian is the only one who ever shows him any mercy :’)

they have very similar taste in decor so they often go shopping together for things to put around the dorm

doyoung said that he spends the most time in lian’s room because it smells like vanilla all the time

he spoils her SO MUCH

like so much

half the plushies she owns at the moment were gifts from doyoung

has a tendency to watch over her and make sure she’s content at all times

“cupcake, are you hungry? i can make you some food if you’d like” “oppa, it’s 3:00am-“ “and?”

they take such pretty instagram pictures :((

at one point in time, doyoung was jealous of his older brother because lian used to crush on him a tiny bit :0

not because doyoung likes her or anything, she just couldn’t stop talking about how nice he looked in revolutionary love

disapproves of the staff giving lian such short clothing sometimes

“um, excuse me, she can’t wear that. are you crazy? go get her a new outfit, please”

JAEHYUN + LIAN: JAELI

not many people bring this up because we know it’s honestly a sensitive topic :|

but he lowkey has deep feelings for her (he makes it so obvious sometimes it’s kinda disappointing to see how oblivious lian really is to it)

jaeli + yun love triangle anyways

jokes aside, though, jaehyun loves lian so so much

once cried to johnny about how he doesn’t know what to do and that he didn’t want to make anything awkward by confessing to her

makes sure to be near her as often as possible

once scared away a whole kim taehyung from talking to her during isac ╰[ ⁰﹏⁰ ]╯ (let’s pretend bts were there for 2019 pls)

“jungkook, keep your friend away, please :D”

didn’t work, though, because they ended up having a conversation later in the day either way

*in the 97’ liner groupchat* “HYUNG IM SORRY HE RAN AWAY I DIDNT KNOW WHAT TO DOl

it was uncalled for but what can you do amirite ┐(´～｀)┌

lian pokes his dimples a lot and squishes his cheeks

just randomly hugs him but he’s not complaining

johnny isn’t picking sides but he became team jaeli after jaehyun broke into tears in front of him for the first time since they were trainees about how much he loves lian

sad,, i know

lian judges jaehyun for not sleeping with sheets

continues to believe he is not a human being, but a robot created in a lab

jaehyun smiles at her for no reason

JUNGWOO + LIAN: LIWOO

an instant bond formed between them when they first met!

jungwoo learned a lot about her and has developed so many ways to deal with her anxiety :(

gave the staff a guide on how to keep her calm when he went on hiatus because he couldn’t be there with her

buys her colouring books because he knows that they calm her down well!

liwoo went viral and become a popular ship when lian accidentally changed the nct 127 instagram profile picture to a jungwoo icon

she got scolded but it was iconic orange haired jungwoo with a chain-

an untouchable duo when they do double aegyo

nctzens think jungwoo is her favourite member

maybe because lian said he was

“ “who’s your favourite member?” hmm i’ll have to say woo-oppa!”

*cue jungwoo laughing at yuta’s face because he was that shocked*

they share secrets with each other so now they probably know the other like the palm of their hand

even though he’s off his hiatus, he still has to guide the staff members through lian’s little moments because sm staff suck at their job sometimes

they’re the two members who go grocery shopping together

more like jungwoo dragging lian to the grocery store with him but okay

jungwoo loves kissing her cheeks (〃▽〃)

their vocals mixed together are confirmed to be noises from heaven

lian misses his blonde bowl cut :/

MARK + LIAN: LIMARK

leader of lian’s natural length hair committee

like when i tell you mark hates her extensions-

mark was the first friend lian was able to make in nct!

they bonded over canada and it was very rare to see them speaking in korean

mark goes into straight panic when he’s with her sometimes

has to remind himself they’re like siblings

lian ans mark covered “your eyes” by hoody and jay park during a vlive!

it was adorable :((

lian had him saved in her phone as “android user” but now she doesn’t know what to change it to

they had a fight in 2019

mark let’s her call him the weirdest freaking nicknames ヽ ( ꒪д꒪ )ﾉ

mars bar, markie, mork, marko

AND IN RETURN HE CALLS HER MARIJUANA-

he says it’s because czennies consider her to be addicting and since marijuana is addicting as well he thought it’d be a good fit

someone on twitter absolutely ENDED HIM though and wouldn’t stop making fun of him (；⌣̀_⌣́)

they can read each other’s mind just by looking at each other

“dude i hate this shit why does she keep asking us who we wanna collab with?” *cue lian laughing hysterically*

“what’s so funny (゜-゜)” — interviewer

HAECHAN + LIAN: LIHYUCK

haechan makes fun of her kissing scenes in dramas

calls her short all the time

“lian give me a high five- oh haha nevermind it’s too bad you’re so short”

they’ve actually been so close to fighting each other and i’m not even joking

they’re the two members who fight the most out of all of them

but despite this, they love each other very much

hyuck says he’s the only one who’s allowed to make her mad

and if anyone else makes her mad he’d kill them

limark 2019 fight flashbacks where haechan kept threatening mark

there are actually moments when they’re clingy with each other-

haechan loves her hugs :((

like ??????? one minute they’re at each other’s throats and the next, they’re all lovey dovey hugging each other make it make sense ?????

lian could be speaking english and he’d say, “korean, please. i can’t understand canadian”

“shut up <3”

hello haechan cried and wouldn’t let go of her during her and mark’s graduation ceremony in 2018

she makes fun of him for it but never takes it too far

he goes to her for dance advice

during their nct 2018 weekly idol appearance when they were doing the random kpop dance thing, they beat everyone أ‿أ

[fromthedeskofelizabeththird]

Hellfire

This is a prequel to Exercises in Self Control, going into the events leading up to Enji's arrival on Reader-chan's doorstep from his POV.

You don't need to have read Exercises in Self Control to enjoy this fic, but I recommend it!

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Endeavor x Reader

Rating: Explicit. Minors BE GONE

Trigger Warnings: Enji is possessive and thirsty in this fic so bear that in mind before continuing. Some of Enji’s fantasies involve dub con

Sequel Piece: Exercises in Self Control

AO3: Here | Want to support me? I have a Kofi

For as long as he can remember, Enji has had problems sleeping. He’s counted the ceiling tiles, counted sheep, counted hours. He’s helped himself to cups of tea, herbal and otherwise. He’s tried meditating, he’s tried ASMR, all to no avail.

It doesn’t strike him as out of the ordinary that he can’t sleep tonight either. He stares at the ceiling, eyes wide open, listening out for the wind in the trees outside. He put chimes in their branches on purpose; something to ground himself every time he closes his eyes.

Tonight he’s grounded by something else; the warm body sharing his bed. He lies flat on his back and doesn’t look, listening to your soft breaths.

Enji is a grown man, now twice married, but this is the first time anyone has shared his bed. In his first marriage, he and Rei slept in separate beds. He visited her only occasionally and never bothered to stay the night, making sure to leave the moment the deed was done. Tonight you’re the intruder and his immediate instinct is to tell you to leave.

He can tell you’re asleep from your steady breathing and he wonders how you got so relaxed. His own children never slept in his arms even as babies but here you are, not just an adult but one he stole away, sleeping so calmly that for a second even he believes you’re an ordinary husband and wife.

You’re not, of course; your first conversation was your wedding vows. You became husband and wife knowing little more than one another’s names.

Against his better judgement, he turns to look at you, admiring what details of your face he can make out through the darkness. He knows you’re beautiful without looking.

Your beauty, in fact, was one of the first things he noticed about you and he remembers that moment with perfect clarity.

Even before Rei’s admittance into a hospital, it had been years since he felt welcome in his own home. It fell silent whenever he returned, his childrens’ laughter dying the moment he was in sight. He had always told himself it didn’t bother him; that they would understand when they were older. Everything he did, however cruel, was for their benefit in the long term.

Touya’s death was the first time he questioned it. Rei’s hospitalisation only drove the point home. For the first time in his life, he saw his house for what it truly was: misery and trauma under several layers of paint.

He couldn’t stand being there for more than a few hours, sitting alone in the dark with nothing to do but think. At first he stayed at the office for longer, taking on extra jobs and filing away paperwork long before it was due. It was a temporary solution and one that backfired spectacularly. He was greeted at work one day by smiling interns, who enthusiastically pointed out the piles of paperwork they had completed in his absence. They told him they’d done it so he could spend more time with his family and didn’t understand why he reacted with anger.

Enji realised then that he needed an alternative hiding place; somewhere no one knew him and he could spend the night alone.

He went from one bar to another, never settling down in one for too long. His reputation was crucial to his career and he didn’t want to risk being recognised.

It was with a great deal of reluctance that he finally arrived at a hostess bar. The owner was well versed in discretion and offered him his own table towards the back, as well as his pick of any of the hostesses. Enji didn’t bother to absorb any of their names or memorise their faces. Instead he asked for the owner himself to tend to him. He had a vested interest in his good graces and was therefore less inclined to gossip.

It became his routine for the next few months. Enji would finish up at the office and head straight for The White Rabbit , simmering in the corner as he sipped his drink. He stayed there until the early hours, returning to the estate once everyone else had already gone to bed and leaving for the office before they woke up.

It seems strange to him now. He used to be a regular, but he hasn’t been since he married you.

He remembers your first encounter far more clearly than you do. As far as you are concerned, your first meeting was in your home, the day he bought you from your father.

You couldn’t be more wrong, of course. He’s known you far longer than that.

Enji spent that much time at the bar that he came to know the regulars. He knew which men were married and booked hostesses to escape their wives. He knew which customers worked long hours in an office cubicle and came to the bar to let loose. He knew which ones were heroes as well and just as incognito as he was.

Among all of these customers was a familiar gaggle of six businessmen who very often dropped in after work. They were boisterous and very often blind drunk, booking multiple hostesses to sing karaoke with them.

One night in particular, you attended their table, carrying over a tray of crimson strawberry daiquiris. Your specialty, he found out later.

The businessmen were louder than usual that night and when Enji glanced over at them, it was with disapproval. He quickly became distracted, though, by something else entirely. You were setting a tray of drinks on their table, laughing and smiling as you tended to each customer.

Perhaps it was the backless dress you had on, showing off smooth, unblemished skin that reminded him of undisturbed snow and still waters. Maybe it was the coquettish way you fluttered your eyelashes as you spoke to them, giggling at their bawdy jokes and expertly dodging any of their attempts to take you by the wrist. Perhaps it was the way you left them hanging.

In any case, the next drink he ordered was a strawberry daiquiri and he relished the tangy sweetness, all while thinking of your lips.

That night, for the first time in many years, Enji fell into a deep slumber and deeper dreams. He dreamed about bending you over his desk, holding one arm behind your back and slamming into you so forcefully that you squealed. Your cunt fluttered every time his hips hit your ass, betraying how many times you had unravelled around his girth.

“Enji,” you whined, “Enji please .”

He slapped you across the ass at that, relishing the way you squealed in shock. He let go of your arm, eying the red marks he had left on your skin.

“It’s what you deserve,” he said in his dream, holding onto your hips and driving his cock in deep, so deep that you cried out and gripped the desk. He came so hard that it painted your insides and left him groaning in pleasure. He held you in place as his cock twitched and filled you with his seed, letting go only to shove his fingers deep into you to stop any drops from escaping.

“Enji,” you said, quivering.

He woke seconds later, pleasure running through him and semen covering his sheets. He cursed and threw himself out of bed, spitting obscenities as he rinsed his body clean.

For a moment, just a moment, he hated you. He was filthy, all because of you and your backless dress and long eyelashes.

You’re sleeping with your back to him tonight and he draws back the covers to admire it. He takes in your naked shoulder blades; the way the moonlight hits the curve of your spine. Not so long ago this view was enough to drive him mad.

The dream left an imprint, after all. He thought about it when he brushed his teeth, patrolled the streets, got into the bathtub at night.

He continued to attend the bar, telling himself it was because he liked the atmosphere and not because he hoped to catch another glimpse of your innocent smile.

He told himself he didn’t want you.

He didn’t want to defile you and fuck you senseless.

He didn’t want to fill your belly with yet more Todorokis.

You were a distraction and one he needed to be free of. He was Endeavor, the flame hero, the world’s number two. He couldn’t afford to fall into such debased habits as the businessmen who had tried to paw you. He was better than that, better than them and certainly better than you.

Every night he sipped strawberry daiquiris and masturbated furiously when he got home, fantasising about you in all manner of scenarios, each filthier than the last. He took photos of you as you worked and scrolled through them when he got home. He filmed you at the bar and watched it over and over, knowing what he was doing was wrong.

Heroes didn’t do this. He should have been protecting you from such terrible invasions of privacy, not enabling himself. Something about you, though, prickled at his skin. Something about the backless dresses you sometimes wore and the careful way you mixed drinks. He knew desire all too well, but never for a person. It was intoxicating; addictive. You were untouched and unspoiled and it drew him to you like a moth to a flame. He wanted to spend the rest of his life as relaxed as when he came all over his fingers, before reality sank back in and he remembered the ghosts lurking in every corner of his home.

One night, desperate to be free of you, he ventured into a nightclub and took a girl into the bathroom, pushing her down onto her knees in front of him and holding her in place to fuck her mouth. She had the same colour hair as you and that was why he chose her, pretending you were the one gagging on his cock. He thought it would help him; that once he got a fix he would stop thinking about you. Ultimately, it only made matters worse. The girl in the bathroom wasn’t you and every time he looked down at her he came crashing down to earth. He wondered what you would think of him if you knew what he had done.

It took him ages to cum that night, holding the girl’s head in place as it shot down her throat. She slumped over when he let her go, choking on semen and wiping her mouth even as he dropped notes down to the floor. Just like when he finished alone, Enji felt disgusted, tucking himself away and leaving the girl without bothering to express his gratitude.

He went to the White Rabbit straight afterwards, paying for you to stay at the bar and ordering his usual daiquiri. He expected to feel different, only to curse his own stupidity for ever thinking the woman in the nightclub could have compared.

He splashed out on bracelets, earrings and more, eager for you to wear them. The thought of them touching your body where he couldn’t made his mouth water, even though you never wore them. The only jewellery you ever wore was a set of plain earrings. Your mother’s, he found out later.

Meanwhile, his dreams only grew more obscene.

He dreamed of rescuing you from villains and insisting you spread your legs in exchange. He dreamed of hiring you as one of his house staff, permitted only to serve him without clothes. He dreamed of sitting you down on your knees before him and covering your face in cum.

He was a man possessed, desperate for any sight of you. The realisation came to him slowly: he didn’t only want to corrupt and break you anymore. He wanted you to desire him as he desired you. Perhaps even more.

He wanted you to want him, wanted you to let him touch you.

Every time he sat down in the bar, he almost managed to convince himself that your circumstances were different; that he truly was the honourable man the world believed him to be. He almost believed that his touches wouldn’t ruin you.

He was desperate and not only to be fucked, though refused to acknowledge it.

He told himself it was no weakness on his part, no dent in his armour. He wasn’t as vile or depraved as the businessmen who tried to paw you on a near daily basis.

He begged the owner of the White Rabbit to let him spend the night with you, begged him to leave the pair of you alone. He was quite convinced that he wouldn’t want you anymore the moment he had you in his arms. He’d find an imperfection on your body that would shatter the illusion.

The owner, being a shrewd businessman, refused him every time.

Enji isn’t proud of how cruel he became in his desperation. It wasn’t hard to break the owner into handing over your name, nor to track you down to your home address. It was all too easy to learn of your father’s gambling problems and difficult financial situation.

He was on your doorstep before he knew it, happy to pay any price to keep you under his roof, unspoiled and protected from harm. He was an honourable man, he told himself. He could keep his hands to himself.

It was what you deserved, after all.

You shiver next to him and he drags the covers back over your body, considering that you are the only person he has ever wanted and the only one to want him in return. He brought you into his home, yes, but you’re the one who sought him out. You’re the one who led him to the bedroom and shed your clothes willingly. He’s almost certainly spoiled your body, but if anything that makes him want you more.

He’s addicted to every inch of you: the feeling of being buried within you, the scent of your hair as he holds you close. You’re the only person he’s ever fucked for pleasure and he hasn’t been able to resist ever since. Even now that you’re asleep, he’s desperate for a fix. He feels starved of oxygen and it’s keeping him awake.

Not long ago, he would have prodded you awake and told you to spread your legs. Now, though, he rolls over onto his side so he no longer faces you, content to listen to your gentle breathing instead.

He curses under his breath as you begin to stir and squeezes his eyes shut, laying perfectly still as you yawn and turn over onto your own side to make yourself comfortable. His skin still prickles when you touch him, especially as you drape an arm around his chest and plant kisses on his shoulder.

“Enji,” you whisper, “are you awake?”

He doesn’t answer and you smile before burying your face in the back of his neck, the combined heat of your bodies lulling both of you to sleep.

He has no need of wind chimes to ground him anymore.

[artsy-moonwalker]

Would you go into more details about your OC’s backstories?? They all look so cool 😆

I would love to! Thank you so much for this question :)

I'm going to focus distinctly on their childhood for these descriptions.

(mentions of drug addiciton, war, and violence)

Before I get into their backstories, it is important to address their environmental situation for context.

In their childhood, there was a civil war going on within America. This is a fictional war, of course, taking place in the early 2000s. Lenis, Everest, Flint, and Darryon all have their parts to play, and the war affects the four in different ways. While Lenis, Everest, and Flint are trying to escape war from their hometown and cross the country, Darryon and his siblings are attending shelters and risk their lives trying to help in any way they can.

So now that we have some context of their biggest childhood dilemma, let's get into the four individually. I won't go into complete detail to avoid any spoilers I'd like to share later on, but I will dive into their personalities and importance. I don't know how long this post will be, but I'll try to keep it as short as I can.

Lenis, 13 years old - tall, blond, a bit tan, a distinct scar on his left jaw, brown eyes

Lenis lives in a small town in Ohio. It's a bit run down, and his house is in bad shape. Considering his family is lower class, he doesn't have much money to spend, and he gets by with what he has. He lives with his two strict parents, him being an only child. But he takes care of a stray cat that lives in a forest behind his home that he calls "Otter." Whenever he tries to get the cat to stay in the house, his parents don't allow it. They can't exactly afford to take care of an animal, especially when they have to pay for his monthly medication and doctor visits.

He has a bone condition where his bones are incredibly fragile. He can't walk for very long, and running is even worse on him. It doesn't take a lot of force to break a bone either, and he's had to visit the doctor numerous times for fractures and snaps. So he has a medication that helps him not feel the aching as much, and allows him to walk or run for a time. He is in no way a strong person. His physical strength is constantly challenged and he feels like a burden to those he loves whenever they have to make sacrifices to just to help him. Especially when it comes to his best friend, Everest.

He is always being protected by Everest. He's taken multiple punches for him, he has to carry him sometimes, he can't do a lot of outdoor activities with him due to how easy it is to get injured. Lenis hates this. He hates being held back and he hates that his best friend has to be held back too because of it. He often tells Everest that he can do things himself, but that ends with him getting hurt more than not.

Lenis really is a grateful and humble soul. He tries to find the good in every situation no matter how painful it can be. This is especially apparent for his friends. If anything is troubling them, he will do what he can to get them through it. His optimism was a lot more prominent when he was a child, though. After escaping war, he finds it difficult to find the good in bad situations. But that doesn't mean he won't try to. It's safe to say the light in his eyes are faded as he grew older.

Everest, 13 years old - short, red head, blue eyes

This is Lenis' best friend, that's how everyone at his school titles him. Because he is constantly by his side more than he is alone. He knew Lenis since he was a toddler due to their mothers being friends, and ever since then, Lenis would nickname him "Evvy." Everest was always like a brother to him. He was incredibly protective and would often put Lenis before him.

Emotions and Everest don't exactly work well together. He tends to be reserved. Cold and bitter, even. If he's showing any extreme emotion, it tends to be anger or frustration. But he has a soft spot for Lenis. He's really one of the only people around him that can make him smile. Other than his mom, of course, who he lives with down the street from Lenis. His mother was pregnant before he left home; his father having left after a short and abrupt divorce. Little information was given to him about why that occurred. But his mom was happier, and that's what he wanted. He was never close with his father anyway.

Everest knows that his protectiveness over his friends, especially Lenis, can be a fault at times. He's gotten hurt many times due to it, both mentally and physically. And it isn't even because his friends are defenseless. He knows they can protect themselves if they need to, but he cannot help himself. He can't let them get hurt if he can stop it. He speaks bluntly, and his words may go over a few lines, or he may be prone to starting arguments, but he is incredibly selfless. He means well in every action he takes despite all of that.

Flint, 12 years old - short, black buzz cut, large dark eyes

Flint is a troubled child to say the least. He's callous towards others, he seems to only care about himself, and he isn't afraid to use force and threaten violence. He was Lenis' biggest bully after ending his friendship with him in a desperate fit to steal his pain medicine. Yes, Lenis and him were friends before that. And Flint truly wanted to continue the friendship, but he needed those pills. Lenis wasn't going to just give them to him. So he had to resort to violence, thus harming Lenis, and regretting it later.

It's easy to think that maybe Flint had a drug addiction, and stole Lenis' pills because of that. But that isn't the case at all. It wasn't because of an addiction, it was for a much deeper reason.

His younger sister, Penny, was facing a horrible sickness that was going to kill her if she didn't get the right treatments. His mother, being constantly intoxicated with alcohol, spent all of her money on things she didn't need. So she couldn't afford Penny to have any treatment at all. Flint, who has been basically raising his little sister, decided to take matters into his own hands, and find any possible way to make her feel better. Even if it meant harming Lenis for some pills.

Flint loves his sister more than anyone. Or loved, at least. She unfortunately didn't make it long after the pain medicine incident.

He wants to be good, he really does. But Flint is difficult to get along with. Especially with Everest. Much like the red head, Flint has a short temper, and they always fight with each other. But also like Everest, he has a soft spot for Lenis (he is sort of like the peacemaker of the group). Flint is incredibly emotional, and he always says what's on his mind, even if they're not so nice things. He feels regretful for a lot of things, though. He's trying to be a better person, and befriending Lenis again is something he is determined to do.

Darryon, 12 years old - Average height, black curly hair, dark eyes, has an intense burn scar along his face

Darryon lives in California with his siblings, and only his siblings. His parents died in a car crash while they were on their way home from a relative's house. The war was breaking out, and they were caught up in it at the worst possible time. Darryon's oldest brother was a soldier in the war, and his oldest sister was her younger siblings' guardian while he was gone. He has five siblings, not counting himself. Three girls and two boys. And he is very close with each of them, especially his oldest sister, Carlitha. She followed shelters, and he did the same. For a long time, she was concerned for his wellbeing considering just how dangerous a job like this was. They were always venturing in war zones and had to face many hardships. But even at a young age, Darryon wanted to be part of something bigger than himself. His parents' death were a big motivator in his efforts, and he found that helping others get through the war was an effective coping mechanism.

He didn't go through these hardships without consequences, though. On one occasion, a shelter he was attending got bombed, and he was caught in the flames, leaving the brutal burn marks you see on him now. These marks filled the mouths of the other kids at his school when he tried going back. But how can anyone go back to a normal life after that? Luckily he had a good group of friends to back him up during his good and hard nights.

He has a very distinct sense of humor, and finds it easy to entertain himself when no one is around. Some of the kids at his school think he's weird because of his behavior at times. He talks to himself out loud, he has a funny laugh, he has a few imaginary friends (one stays with him even in his adulthood), etc. But he embraces those things more than anything, and his friends don't care, so why should he?

When he isn't helping at a shelter, he finds time for himself or his family. For example, he's very fascinated with nature, and enjoys drawing what he sees around him in a sketchbook. He's pretty good at it too. What started as drawings of birds or gardens soon turned into drawings of burnt landscapes and debris of towns. He liked to draw the people he would meet in shelters as well, and he kept every drawing, not knowing if that person survived after they parted ways or not.

Darryon's story does collide with the others at some point. He and his sister go to great lengths around the country, of course they're going to befriend Lenis, Everest, and Flint at some point, and it will certainly stay that way.

If you read this far, thank you! I really hope this little introduction to them has intrigued you, and if not, that's okay too :) I want to share more about them later on, and I plan to write out chapters to get the full story soon as well. I've been working on this story for more than a year now in private, and I'm really having fun, so I'm excited to share it with you. Thank you again!

[13uswntimagines]

Ice Cream and a Baby (Pregnant!Emily x Reader)

Request: pregnant sonnett and goes into labor prematurely while reader is at camp and reader rushes to be with sonnett

Author’s Note: So I have to thank @literaryhedgehog​ for helping me out with this one! I hope you enjoy! Hit me up with comments, requests or if you just wanna say HI!

You groaned settling onto the wooden bench. You were freaking exhausted. Between your wife Emily’s 2 am pregnancy cravings and Vlatko’s new workout routine, you were 99% sure that the universe was trying to kill you. You just hoped that in a month when your little tater tot was born, things would settle down a little bit. 

Lindsey settled on the bench next to you, giving your shoulder a comforting pat, and trying not to laugh at your obvious exhaustion. While you were usually pretty good at corralling her best friend, the past 8 months of negotiating with Emily’s hormones was wearing down your resolve to say no. 

You groaned as your phone began to ring in your bag and you slumped down, digging through the messy duffle in an attempt to find the offending device. If this was another stupid craving call, you didn’t know what you would do. 

“Hey babe, what’s up?” You answered the device when you found it, biting your lip. 

“It’s an emergency.” Your wife’s voice sounded panicked through the phone, and you kept to your feet despite your legs feeling like Jello. 

“What’s happening, are you hurt?  Do I need the baby bag?” You asked frantically, searching for your regular shoes in the bag. 

“No, it’s worse. We’re out of ice cream but I can’t go to the store. Can you grab some for me?” She asked, her voice muffled slightly by what you assumed was a spoon in her mouth. You froze, your eyebrows furrowing as you settled back into the bench, rubbing your eyes. 

“Em, I can’t miss another practice. Mark will kill me.” You tried to reason. Ever since Emily had to stop practicing with the thorns, it seemed that every time you were at practice, she needed something. Mark had even threatened to bench you for your repeated attendance infractions. He understood that your wife needed you, but some of the reasons you left were kind of ridiculous. Emily was pregnant, not helpless. 

“Mark will understand that your pregnant wife needs you right now!” She growled through the phone. 

“Why can’t you pick it up yourself babe? We live like two blocks from the supermarket that has the Ben and Jerry’s you like,” you sighed, resting your forehead in your hand. Lindsey patted your back sympathetically, smirking at your predicament. You sent her a glare. There was nothing funny about this. It was a lose-lose situation for you. If you left, Mark would be pissed, and if you didn’t then Emily would be pissed. When did your career and the love of your life become mutually exclusive?

“My stomach hurts and I need you to get up off your ass and get me my ice cream,” She growled through the phone, and you could practically see her stomping her foot in your mind's eye. 

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head slightly. God, you loved this very silly woman. “You know, maybe the three pints of ice cream that were in the fridge yesterday have something do with your stomach pain.” You snarked back. 

“That’s just mean and I’m pretty sure that the stomach pain is more to do with the contractions. But I need ice cream now!” She whined and your eyes widened, the phone nearly slipping through your fingers in shock. 

“CONTRACTIONS?” You yelled, clutching the phone tighter, as Lindsey straightened beside you, elbowing Tobin. The entire locker room went silent. 

“Yes, that’s what I just said. Fuck fuck son of a … alright, it’s gone. Now the ice cream, I don’t want any of that low sugar crap you tried to sneak in last time. Here. I want the-'' She winced over the phone. Lindsey rubbed your back as your face contorted in pain, and you attempted to get your breathing under control. You had to be calm, or else you wouldn’t be able to get any information out of Emily, and then she would freak out and that would be bad. 

“Em baby, back up. Did you time the contraction,” you said softly, rubbing your eyes with your hand and resting your forehead in your palm. 

“Not actively, but they’re about 7 minutes apart, why?” She mumbled worriedly into the phone. And you took a deep breath. 7 minutes apart wasn’t too bad, it meant you still had time to get to her and then to the hospital. You hurriedly began to put your shoes on, pinning the phone to your ear with your shoulder. 

“How many seconds did it last?” You asked quietly into the phone, gesturing for Lindsey to throw your cleats into your bag. 

“This isn’t important, what’s important is that you get me the right flavor of my Ben and Jerry’s,” Emily huffed, annoyed that you kept trying to change the subject. It was too early for the baby to come, so what mattered was that you got her the ice cream she wanted. Hadn’t you ever heard the saying happy wife happy life?

“Just… humor me, please?” You pleaded into the phone, pulling on your Thorns Jacket. You needed to know just how many speed laws you had to break to get to your wife in time. You just hoped it was less than 20 seconds. 

“You know I love it when you beg,” She moaned into the phone, her voice dropping an octave, and you rolled your eyes. This was not the time for sexy things (Emily had been insatiable for nearly her entire pregnancy).

“Not the time Em,” you grumbled. 

She sobered after your serious tone. If this was important to you, then it was important to her. “Do you want me to put you on speaker so you can time the next one?” She asked you softly. 

“Yes, is it coming already?” You murmured back, putting your phone on speaker so you could time it. 

“Yes,” She said through gritted teeth and you started the time. You encouraged her as much as you could, standing frozen in the middle of the locker room, watching the seconds tick by. You heard her breath a sigh of relief at 40 seconds, and you knew it was over. 

Your eyes were wide as you stared at the phone, stuck in a trance. 

“Holy shit,” You said breathlessly, you were about to be a mother. Tobin snapped a finger in front of your face, pulling you out of your daze, and handing you your car keys. Now was not the time for an existential crisis. 

“When did you notice you were having contractions?” You questioned as you waved at the girls (who gave you various thumbs-ups) as you rushed out of the locker room. 

“A couple of hours ago, but I thought it was Braxton Hicks or whatever. The baby’s still not due for another six weeks,” She shrugged, a worried edge taking over her tone. You raced to the car, settling in and thanking god that you had Bluetooth so you didn’t have to hang up. 

She heard the door close and the car start in the background, and your heavy breathing. 

“Has anything else happened,” You urged, revving the engine. 

“Well…” She said hesitantly, and you felt yourself pressing the pedal down harder, to get to her faster. 

“Emily,” You scolded sternly, almost like you were talking to a child. You could practically see her biting her lip. 

“I’m pretty sure my water just broke,” She hummed guiltily, and had you not been driving, you’re fairly certain that you would have headbutted the steaming wheel. 

“Pretty sure?” You quirked your eyebrow up. Who could one not know if their water broke? God, you need to get to her before your little superstar decided she didn’t want to wait anymore. 

“You know this kid has been playing soccer on my bladder for the last 3 months,” Emily rolled her eyes at you. You were the panicky one during the pregnancy, which was ridiculous considering she was the one growing the tiny human. The tiny human who couldn’t seem to sit still. 

“I know babe, I’m almost there,” Your voice was suddenly calm as you shoved your feelings down -- you needed to be the level headed one, because you were sure that panic would only make the labor go faster, and you didn’t want that. 

“Make sure you bring the ice cream,” Emily demanded something that sounded like a spoon clinking in the background. 

“Emily Anne Sonnett-y/n, you’re in active labor, I’m not stopping to get you ice cream,” You growled sternly. You were racing to not miss welcoming your daughter into the world, the last thing that the three of you needed was for you to miss her birth because You had to stop for an unnecessary frozen treat. 

“Y/n” She hissed sternly and you winced at the tone. But you had to remain firm. You were about to become a mother and there were too many things that could go wrong if you waited to get to her for too long. 

“If you have to have a C-section you’re not supposed to eat,” You tried to reason, stepping in the gas and trying to your very crazy wife faster. 

“If you want to be alive for the birth of your child, you will show up with 3 pints of the good ice cream,” She retorted, and you sighed as you turned into the store parking lot down the road from your house. This woman was going to be the death of you. 

****

You stood in the hospital room with a little pink bundle cuddled up in your arms. A little pink bundle that was only an hour old, and holding onto your finger like her little life depended on it. 

Your eyes traced her perfect nose and rosy cheeks that reminded you so much of Emily. 

Camren Elizabeth Sonnett-y/n had come into the world screaming merely two hours after Emily had called you with her ice cream emergency. And she had immediately stolen your heart just like her mommy had. 

“You’re so beautiful, yes you are. Your Mommy did such a good job,” You whispered, placing a very careful kiss on your daughter's forehead, taking in her baby scent. 

“She gets all her good looks from you,” Emily said through a mouthful of Ben and Jerry’s brownie batter core ice cream.

You sent her an indulgent smile, winking at her. “Hmm, that’s debatable,” you mumbled, returning your attention to your daughter who had let out a little squeak when she realized you weren’t paying attention to her. You cooed down at her, your eyes shining with the amount of love you had for this tiny being. 

“See this moment would have sucked without ice cream,” Emily laughed and you sent her a withering look. Her stupid ice cream had made you break about a dozen traffic laws and almost made you have to deliver your baby in the back seat of your car. 

“Whatever you say, babe,” You rolled your eyes good-naturedly at your wife, brushing your fingers across your daughter’s puffy cheeks. 

“Hey ladies, I believe there are some very excited aunts out here,” The doctor interrupted, knocking on the door. You were fairly surprised that the doctors and nursing staff had kept them at bay for as long as they did. You sent a concerned look to your wife. She was the one who had just pushed a tiny human out of her body, so she was the one who got to decide if you were accepting visitors. She nodded in your direction, and you in turn nodded to the doctor. 

“Send in the crazies,” 

[soukokuwu]

NAKAHARA CHUUYA

FOREVER YOU

》 sadly, angst (chuuya x reader)

》 trigger warning! death

》 summary: it’s your birthday, and Chuuya has plans

》 word count: 2.2k

》 i- i tried.. i wanted this to be better but also i suck so have some slight angst, guys 🥺 let me know how it is

“every inch of you is the most beautiful thing that God ever created”

︻⋆︻⋆︻⋆︻⋆︻⋆︻⋆︻⋆︻⋆︻⋆︻⋆︻⋆︻⋆︻

Chuuya hummed to himself as he strolled into your shared apartment, flinging his coat on the coat rack before making his way into the kitchen with the groceries. Skilfully, he started chopping up the beef and toasting the bread, making your favourite beef sandwich, with no changing the recipe you taught him.

An hour later, Chuuya was armed and ready. He looked at the wall clock. 11am. Right on time. He had requested a leave day from Mori, to which Mori had no qualms about.

Every year, on this date, he’d request a day off. Unless an extremely urgent matter came up that only Chuuya could handle, the ginger would rather spend the day with you. It was your birthday– and anniversary– after all, and even though you’d always tell him it wasn’t necessary, he did it anyway, and he knew you were secretly grateful for it. For the past three years, the two of you had a routine: meet up at the same spot, 12pm, and spend time together.

Picnic basket in hand, he got ready to leave the apartment. “Today marks the third year,” he whispered to himself, heart pounding loudly in his chest. “Why do I still feel like this?”

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

By noon, Chuuya had arrived at the usual spot. His lips curved into a smile as he spotted where you were, slowly making his way over. He thanked the heavens that the weather was good today. It was a breezy day, and even though it was noon, the sun wasn’t too strong. Not that it would matter much, there was a lot of shade provided by the trees near your spot.

Chuuya wore the biggest smile he could manage as he approached you, his mind flashing back to the first moment he ever laid eyes on you.

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

It was five years ago.

You were the secretary to the lousy excuse of a CEO of a tech company, who happened to be Port Mafia’s enemy. Diligent and knowledgeable, you had attracted Chuuya’s attention since you introduced yourself. All he had wanted was to extract information directly from your boss, but he had ended up getting it from you. As he expected, you had been smart enough to see through his disguise. But much to his surprise, you voluntarily agreed to cough up information on your boss. The disdain you had for the CEO was obvious by how you handled the whole situation. Chuuya didn’t know what went down between you and the CEO, but he knew you hated the man, and you wanted to be rid of him. So, after the whole ordeal, which thankfully landed the CEO in jail, Chuuya offered to help you get another job, away from that environment.

That was when the two of you had formed a friendship. At first. But after a few dinners, a few wine discussions later, you couldn’t help but admit it to yourself too, he was as attractive as they could get. Chuuya had been nothing but considerate, putting you first, thinking of you even when he should be worried about himself. It was hard not to fall for him. It was a big bonus that he is as handsome as he is. Not that you could ever find it in yourself to admit it to him directly, considering how shy you could be when it came to these things. But, nevertheless, Chuuya knew how you felt.

As your friendship progressed, the dinners outside after work translated to dinners in either of your homes, the glasses of wine you usually drank turned into bottles, and the small conversations turned into passionate kisses.

You loved how he was always gentle with you, making your heart melt, treating you like the most precious thing in the world. Something you had never felt before, despite having been in several serious relationships in the past.

Chuuya, on the other hand, had never dated seriously before you, and it surprised him how fast he had been moving with you. But it was a good kind of surprise, a pleasant surprise. Not once in the relationship did Chuuya ever regret pursuing you, or letting you into his whirlwind of a life. You were of strong mind, and never let the fact that he was an executive of the Port Mafia be a problem. If an issue arises, you certainly weren’t a child about it, and it was one of the many things Chuuya admired and respected you for. Any arguments that happened would never find its way into the next day, and anything petty or toxic never found their way between the two of you. And he had decided, then and there, you were made for each other.

It had been only six months in and the two of you had already decided to get a shared apartment, solely due to the fact that it was getting tiring only getting to see each other through video call every night. Both of you did have hectic work schedules after all. The decision to move in together proved to work wonders for your relationship. He knew he had never felt as happy as he did after cohabitating with you. Heck, just after your relationship passed the one-year mark, Chuuya had already thought about marriage, and he was glad that you seemed to be on the same page as him.

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

And today, it’s the third anniversary. Chuuya couldn’t believe how fast time flew. He had laid out the food and poured the wine in a wine glass. It was a simple meal, and yet it meant so much to him. Slowly, his hands traveled into his coat pocket, fiddling with the small velvet box. 

“Hey,” he mumbled, hesitant. “If all that didn’t happen, would you’ve said yes?”

But you didn’t say a word.

You couldn’t.

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

Three years ago.

Chuuya had left the mafia headquarters early and was going to head to your workplace to surprise you. It was a special occasion after all. He bought a bouquet of your favourite flowers before heading over. He was grinning ear to ear as he got closer to your office. He could just imagine how happy you’d be the moment you saw him. He couldn’t wait to give you an endless amount of surprises that day.

But then it all happened in a split second.

He was just across the street, and even in the crowd of people, your eyes had caught his. A throng of people pushed past you, running out of the company lobby. The structure had already started to crumble, and you knew it was too late. There was no way you could escape in time, no way Chuuya could propel himself forward in time. You were in too deep. But then you smiled as you mouthed to Chuuya, ‘It’s okay.’

And then the building swallowed you.

‘Bomb kills 37 in suspected terrorist attack’ was the headline for your demise.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

There was only one word to describe Chuuya after what he witnessed: inconsolable.

A part of him was lost forever.

He didn’t show up to work for weeks. Mori knew exactly what his executive needed, and he didn't interfere in his grieving. There were no urgent missions that needed Chuuya’s personal tending to anyway. And even when he finally did appear, no one dared mention you. Those who knew of the two of you already texted Chuuya their condolences, not that any of them ever got a reply.

How could he bear to see or talk to anyone when he blamed himself for not being able to save you? All he could think of in the weeks after your death was how he should’ve went off earlier, how he probably shouldn’t have stopped for the flowers, then maybe, just maybe, you would still be in his arms, alive. Perhaps engaged to him, even.

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The first anniversary consisted of just a bouquet of daisies, your favourite.

The second anniversary saw a little more effort. There was music, and Chuuya recited some poetry.

And now, now was the third anniversary. Of your death.

Dying on the same date you were born. Was this what people considered poetic?

Chuuya pulled his hands out of his pockets, letting go of the box. He reached for the sandwich he made and took a bite, well aware of the tears welling in his eyes. He didn't stray from your recipe at all, and yet it tasted different. The wine he downed did nothing to soothe the ache in his heart, serving only to make it worse when he remembered it was your favourite.

He spent the next hour there with you, staring adoringly at your gravestone. Just seeing your name carved on there made him feel just a little more home. Sure, he always visited when he had the chance, but with nothing in tow. Your birthdays would always be special. He had decided that when you were still here and he would keep it that way even when you’re not. No matter how stupid he felt talking to thin air, he would still do it anyway. It was the only time he would ever allow himself to act as though you were still here. Not that he could talk much. Just a few words and he would start choking up.

It was the same every year.

After visiting you, he would go back to your shared apartment and clean up. Although, it was empty almost 364 days of the year, given Chuuya lived in his own apartment, the one he had before he moved in. He couldn’t stand spending the night alone in this place, not anymore. He also couldn’t bring himself to throw any of your belongings away. Everything was still where they were three years ago.

Usually he would just make sure everything was neat and tidy before leaving to occupy himself. But this year, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything but wallow in your loss. The moment he got back, he shut the front door, leaned back against it and fell to the floor. The tears he had tried to hold back came rushing out. He looked around and all it did was make him feel even worse.

All he could see in the empty living room was the two of you playfighting on the couch. He was tickling you, and happy tears would be streaming out your eyes. You were deadly ticklish. You couldn’t tolerate it for the life of you. Or the times you would tickle him instead, when he was beating you at a playstation game. Sometimes he’d still beat you, and you’d pout and stick your tongue out so adorably. Then he’d let you win the next game.

In the kitchen he could see himself throwing flour at you during one of your baking sessions. There were days when you were bored and had roped Chuuya into baking with you. He had feigned defiance by playing with you during the process. Truth be told, he loved doing anything with you. You always made it a good time. Baking would usually end with the both of you covered in flour or chocolate, sometimes not even having baked anything. And he wouldn’t trade it for all the food in the world.

In the bedroom all he could envision was the intimacy. The first time you had fallen asleep together, his arms wrapped around you, the alluring scent of your hair permeating his senses. The first time the two of you became one, how gently he had handled you then, how passionately you had returned his love. And similarly, all the times after that.

Then there was the bathroom during your morning afters, where you would be brushing your teeth and Chuuya would appear behind you, snaking his arms around your waist and pulling you into the shower with him instead. How you’d complain but you’d be smiling brightly at the same time. You’d be content to be pulled anywhere, as long as it was with Chuuya. 

The last place his eyes laid on was the balcony, still decorated with the fairy lights he had placed. Exactly three years ago, he decorated the balcony with fairy lights the moment you left for work. That was all part of the plan. Decorate the balcony, go to work, leave early, surprise you at work, go for a good dinner, come home... and propose to you. You had been together for two years then, and Chuuya didn’t want to wait any longer.

Chuuya pulled out the velvet box from his coat and opened it. The diamond ring glimmered brightly. Not once did he stop carrying the ring. He didn’t even know why, he just did. It was as though he felt like leaving it around would risk the chance of him forgetting you.

And god, he didn’t want to. Never. You meant the world to him. The only one he was sure he would sacrifice himself for. But he didn’t get a chance to. You had left. And neither of you had a say in it.

He leaned his head back in frustration, his hands falling to the floor, his grip around the red velvet box never loosening. But for the first time in a long time, he let himself go, he let himself cry this out, his emotions taking over him. All he could think of was the grief, and how everything would be fixed if only you were here. Why did you go somewhere he couldn’t follow? Why wasn’t he allowed a goodbye? Why of all people did it have to be you?

I miss your laugh. I miss your smile. I miss how you’d make such a mess whenever you cooked. I miss coming home to you. I miss touching you, kissing you. I miss our little talks. I miss everything about you. I miss you, I fucking miss you.

“Come back, I love you,” he sobbed, burying his head between his knees, “Please come back to me.”

It’s so lonely. Too lonely.

︼⋆︼⋆︼⋆︼⋆︼⋆︼⋆︼⋆︼⋆︼⋆︼⋆︼⋆︼⋆︼

“please come home, this doesn’t feel right.”

[al-perthe]

The Arcana - MC with Epilepsy Headcanons (LIs & Courtiers)

I know we're most of the way through November, but it's National Epilepsy Awareness Month, and as someone with seizures, I thought I'd do a headcanon post for the Main 6 & Courtiers with an apprentice who has epilepsy - can be interpreted as platonic or romantic if you so choose. The Courtier ones are more about prevention or very specific scenarios so theymaynotbeasgood

Note that epilepsy manifests differently for everyone, so I may not have had the same experiences as someone else; I did my best to research outside of my own experiences but it may come across as rather general or vague. That being said, feel free to add on if you'd like to contribute (especially for the Courtiers... pls help).

EDIT: Under a read more because I didn’t realize how big this was, sorry!

ASRA:

Getting you to take your medication, and remember when to do so, was one of the challenges he faced when you awakened without any memories three years ago.It really took him a while to feel safe travelling out of the city, constantly worrying about what if you forgot a dose, what if you had a really bad seizure and got hurt, or even the thought of you just having a smaller one and feeling alone and afraid... As someone who enjoys naps, he's probably the best at making sure you get a good night of rest to help prevent seizures.

Safe. Peaceful. No danger.

Naturally, Faust is going to help comfort you after a seizure, especially if she can tell that you're experiencing fear and/or confusion as a result of it.

NADIA:

When you first started the investigation, you made sure she was aware of your condition. You assured her you'd be okay to take it on, just be a little patient if you were ever 'out of it' for a few minutes.

Oh, it's no trouble at all - she'll make sure that a specialist is brought in to ensure your treatment is the best it can be.

But a few moments later, she clarifies - this isn't being done for the sake of the investigation, and she apologizes if she gave off that impression. She does genuinely care about your well-being, and if she needs to take a step back or if there's more she can do, just let her know.

Her room is definitely the go-to spot if you need a quiet spot to wind down after a seizure.

Also good at making sure you're comfortable and can sleep well.

JULIAN:

Part of you wondered 'what if...?' when you found out about Julian's healing mark, but you dismissed it quickly - there's a chance it wouldn't work, and with the whole murder investigation going on, dealing with seizures (even if temporarily in theory) would just be another thing weighing on him. You couldn't do it. You wouldn't do it. It was selfish.As a doctor, he's the best at recognizing your symptoms as a result - he can tell right away if you're having an aura and need to move to a quieter spot or at least sit down. He does worry about it each time it happens, but puts on a calm face for your sake.Even Malak seems a little bit quieter when you're having a rough time with your epilepsy.Need a distraction afterwards ? Count on him to have a story from his travels to get your mind off it!Of course, let him know if your symptoms change, or if your medication doesn't seem to be having the same effect - he'll look into finding a more effective treatment.

MURIEL:

Inanna's the best at picking up when you're about to have a seizure, and lets Muriel know immediately.Since she can't always accompany him, he's done his best to learn to recognize when a seizure's on the way, or when it's happening. As someone who prefers peace and quiet, he knows the go-to places for some privacy if you're in the presence of other people.The most calming presence you could ask for once the seizure has passed. If you're experiencing confusion afterward, he asks you simple questions and makes simplified statements to help ground you in reality. So ironically, he's the best at helping you remember what happened.He may not be the best at striking up a conversation, but will offer you some words of comfort and reassurance afterwards.

PORTIA:

After your first seizure around her, she acknowledges that 'something just didn't feel right' moments before.

No guilty feelings though - once you've settled down, she asks what she can do to help in the future. She'll support you the best she can.

She's actually the one who brings you to Mazelinka, to see if she knows about any home remedies that could somehow help. At the very least, her soup will give you a good night's sleep to help prevent them!

Naturally, she also seeks guidance from Julian on how to help you with your condition.

If you're feeling anxious after a seizure, she's actually the one who's best at rationalizing you through those fears. The dread that there's someone just outside the cottage, the shop, etc that could hurt you? She checks out the windows and doors first, confirms with you that there's nobody out there, and reassures you that even if there was someone out there after you, they'll have to go through her first!

Expect to find notes from time to time with compliments or general positivity that also remind you to take your medication!

LUCIO:

If you've spaced out due to a seizure, you might need something repeated. He's not normally one for patience... but you're the exception. If anyone gives you a hard time for it, he's bound to round on them with a death glare.

As the Count, he's got access to all kinds of resources. He spares no expense at making sure there's specialists who can get you the best medication as possible, as quickly as possible, when you're in need of a new supply.

Mercedes and Melchior spend more time around you too - they aren't as quick to pick up on an oncoming seizure, but when they do, they make a great team. One of them stays with you, and the other goes off to find Lucio.

Need to get your mind off it? Did you know that he had a saltwater crocodile as a companion during his travels near the Sea of Persephia in his early mercenary days? When he first met the crocodile, it was clearly starving, so he had to wrestle it off... and as he goes on his heroic tirade, it's not so much the adventures themselves but the clearly exaggerated parts that entertain and distract you.

Sometimes you just need something or someone to hold onto, to keep you at peace and keep you feeling real after a seizure. Okay... so... patience, peace, and quiet aren't exactly his strong points. But - with a firm yet comforting hand on your shoulder - he's got your back, and you'll get through this.

VALDEMAR:

Epilepsy? It's actually more common than you think. They've naturally seen it plenty of times over the years.

Some types of epilepsy are limited to specific regions of the brain. Theoretically, it could be possible through surgery to alter or even remove the areas where your seizures generate... you leave it at a "I'll get back to you on it" and stick with your medication for now.

Then it finally happens. You've had a seizure in their presence. You're feeling confused and uneasy, but Valdemar doesn't seem bothered at all. "Seems like you're starting to come back. You might feel unwell for a few minutes, but that's typical in the postictal stage." More confusion. "... Right, simplified terms. You had a seizure. Now you're recovering. What you're feeling will pass. You need only wait a few minutes."

The explanations are nonchalant, blunt, and brief. But that just makes it easier to understand. It's... surprisingly calming, too. You scoot a little closer to them. They don't move away.

Will share interesting accounts of historical figures who also dealt with epilepsy, and reviews their own records of past patients with symptoms similar to yours to study potential triggers and effective treatments or preventions. After a while, you start talking beyond that, about how your day went and other chitchat. It seems that as a result of the time spent around you, they have grown... rather fond of your presence.

VALERIUS:

Obviously, for safety reasons, you're not going to drink heavily. But while some people have to avoid alcohol entirely due to their seizures, you're part of the typical group that can handle some alcohol, a drink or two depending on the strength.

If you're out with Valerius at some sort of soiree, he'll make sure that the one drink you get is the best one suited to your palate. Similarly, he points out the best food to pair with it so that way you're also eating to neutralize the alcohol.

Sometimes, you decide to pass on the drinking, and have fruit juice or even just straight up water served in a wine glass. He'll frown at you, but you KNOW you saw the briefest hint of amusement in his eyes.

To be frank, he usually attends these sort of gatherings for the wine and/or meeting with important figures. So he is ready to get you out of there if you need a quiet spot away from others.

He's not very good with reassurance. Sure, just a simple 'it's going to be okay' can help, but is it really enough? You can't just expect him to repeat it like a mantra or something. He's absolutely making that flustered face as he tries to figure out other things to say, but that's comforting on its own - he's trying for your sake.

VLASTOMIL:

Maybe there was a sudden flash of lightning, maybe there was some 'grand finale' of a fireworks show, but your photosensitivity stirred up a seizure in you.

He's not really sure what to do, but a cautious approach is a best approach.

He draws you aside later to ask about what happened - now admittedly, he's not very familiar with epilepsy. But photosensitivity? Absolutely! There are certain species of worm that are actually quite sensitive to lighting, such as... oh, right. The point is, for some enclosures, he's used a special type of tinted glass to reduce the effects of sunlight and nights when the moon is brighter, and perhaps something similar might be useful for you?

A week later, he brings you a pair of spectacles with darker lenses. They actually do the job pretty well? And he even had them designed to go along with your aesthetic? Whether he had them commissioned or if he just crafted them himself, this is... surprisingly nice.

Oh, and you can't forget the tea. Filling you in on the latest gossip and the occasional Worm Fact once you're feeling calmer is his way of taking your mind off any lingering anxiety. Also, he recommends a variety of herbal teas that calm nerves or even help you fall asleep.

VOLTA:

The first time it happened, oh, Volta did not know what to do! She was so distraught that someone else had to step in and help you collect yourself.

But now that she's aware of your condition, she will offer you words of comfort and kindness to help you after your seizure has passed. Volta's a sweetheart, of course she'd be good at that!

She has a highly developed sense of smell thanks to all the food she exposes herself to. It seems as though, when you were having stronger or more frequent seizures, there was something in your diet you had been eating more often.

In other words, she helped you determine that certain foods were contributing to your seizures. Grapefruit seemed to be the only thing you needed to avoid - come to think of it, you recall that it doesn't react well with certain components used in preparing your medicine - and other foods just needed to be consumed less.

She'll eat those foods at any gatherings, since you're trying to avoid them... oh, but save some of the other dishes for Volta, too!

VULGORA:

Tonic-clonic or grand mal seizures... call them what you will, but point is, if you collapse and lose consciousness in a seizure, they will get everyone to STAND. BACK.

"It's a seizure, just give it a minute or two, it'll pass! I SAID, STAND. BACK!! IF you're so much as THINKING about trying to hold them down, DON'T. NO! Swallowing the tongue IS NOT A THING!! Not unless you CUT IT OFF and FORCE IT IN SOMEONE'S MOUTH! Which I am CLEARLY NOT DOING!!"

... Okay, so getting other people to stay calm while you're having a seizure is not their strong suit. But they're certainly good at getting people to keep their distance, at least.

They're talkative and energetic! Of course being calm and quiet is hard for them! ... But maybe that's just another challenge for them to conquer? The first time they tried they basically just held their breath as long as they could.

Someone actually had the audacity to make a rude remark about your condition. But unfortunately for them, they somehow missed the bright red figure of Pontifex Vulgora in the vicinity.

That person was never seen in Vesuvia again. Because they moved out, after receiving a rather persuasive argument to move to... some other place. Oh, okay, you were worried there was some other reason they disappeared.

[siriuslyshewrote]

5AM - Finn Shelby x Reader

Requested by @violetsdicaprio “Okay so, can I request a Finn Shelby fic where he uses the prompt “you’re safe, you’re safe, you’re safe.” Maybe Season 4 when Changretta is there and he has ordered an attack on the reader maybe because she found out something, like she overheard something in a bar?” Hope you enjoy it love xx

We run into a dark room, And we spasm to the sounds

You shouldn’t even have been at that bar in the first place, You should have been at a Shelby family meeting (something which you had been introduced to a few months ago, when Finn and yourself had gotten engaged,), but for the first time, you blew it off. That was what bugged you afterwards, and if you could communicate with your past self, you would scream not to agree to a night out with your sister and her husband. But you did. You were excited, not having seen your sister since she found out she was pregnant several weeks ago, due to clashed schedules, and a hell of a lot of work commitments - because working at the Shelby Company wasn’t your typical nine to five job -  you had yet to congratulate her in person. Finn was supposed to be accompanying you, but he had said he couldn’t at the last minute, saying Polly had insisted he was at the meeting (and wasn’t best pleased that you weren’t going to be there, either).

And so, that was how you had found yourself in your current situation, irritated at Finn after yet another argument,  tired from work, with the swollen ankles that came from the precariously high heels you insisted on wearing. You were nursing your second glass of a rather strong whiskey, standing and waiting for your sister, who was never on time, as scatterbrained as she was. You half had zoned out looking around at the people in the bar, laughing and dancing to jazz music. You looked at a young couple, smiling at each other, positively lost in each other’s eyes, and wondered just when Finn and you had lost that childhood sweetheart innocence.

You were half in another world, until you heard the utterance of ‘Shelby’ behind you, in a thick accent that sounded rather suspiciously Italian. 

Of a copy of Morrissey , Or the blues of the Deep South

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You barely even moved whilst you tried to listen to what the men were saying. They probably didn’t expect for anyone associated with the Shelby’s to be here, in this bar several miles away from Watery Lane, a place that was nowhere near where the Peaky boys patrolled, with their guns that gleamed in the light of the streetlamps, that inspired fear in others, but a feeling of safety in you. They were speaking English, surely a way for them to fit in more with the scenery around you, to not arise any suspicion, but you’d know that accent anywhere. It had been drilled into you, practically, and as one of the men said Luca in a low tone, you knew it was the Changretta’s sat behind you. You should have ran then, sprinted away, never looked back. But you stayed, swirling your drink in your glass, watching the intoxicating amber liquid go round and round and round.

And the drugs will only hide it

“You are being stupid, Luca.” A man’s voice spoke harshly.

That fucking name Luca. The name of the man who had so ruthlessly and callously ordered his men to kill your future brother-in-law only weeks ago. He had had no thought about Esme, a woman who you loved like a sister, or John’s seven children, or his youngest brother who was slowly being forced to take John himself’s role, a role that distorted Finn so quickly it was like you had woke up one morning next to a completely different man. No, Luca Changretta hadn’t thought of any of this, and you would be happy to see him put to a stop.

The feeling never really goes “Attacking them in their own home? It is suicide, my boy.” The words he spoke were so filled with meaning that you half froze in your chair. You were sure that their was only one family that they could be talking about.

“I guess we will see tonight, if you are correct. But it was not so difficult to kill the last one, now was it?” A gloating voice, one that must have been Luca spoke, and it was all you could do to not turn around in your seat and punch him for his words. 

Your hand shook slightly, as you placed the glass down on the counter again, picking up your bag from where it had been, and slipping from your seat, a poor attempt to look casual, pushing through the doors into the cold early January air, your breath fogging in front of you, as your heart beat so violently and loudly that you heard it in your ears.

You had to warn them. At any moment Luca’s men could be at their door. You squeezed your eyes closed for a moment, trying not to picture it, not to think of Finn, because if you thought of Finn you would panic, and you couldn’t, not right now. You pulled off your high heels, feet hitting the frosted cobblestones, as you made to begin to run. You barely made it a few meters, before you heard the click behind you, the calm, cool voice.

And we won’t find love, at the bottom of a glassy hole. 

“Y/N Shelby! A pleasure to finally meet you.”

You turned, raising your hands slightly, to see Luca, standing alone, smoking a cigarette, his eyes calculating and humourous, locked with your own. He looked so casual, that to anyone else, it would look as if you two were just having a conversation, albeit one at gunpoint, the gun you could see now, aimed directly at your abdomen. If he shot it, it would guarantee a rather slow, horrifically painful, death for you.

“Y/N L/N, actually.” You snapped, your mind whirring, telling you to keep him talking, until you could figure out some fucking way to get out of this. You could feel the cool metal of your own gun, strapped to your thigh, but there was no way you could grab it without him realising.

And you don't know what you've got until it's gone

“Ah yes, you haven’t quite sealed the deal yet, have you?” He exhaled the smoke from his cigarette, as he walked closer to you, until he was only half a metre away, and you could smell the smoke. “When is the wedding?”

“We’re not going to have one of you keep killing off my guest list.” You spoke sardonically, trying not to seem as deathly afraid as you were. To Tommy, or Arthur, or even Finn, this wouldn’t be a big deal, you thought. They’d have plans for this sort of thing, but this was your first time being held at gun point. You wondered if it was the sort of thing you got a cake for at Shelby Limited, like normal companies did for an achievement.

He laughed, though his eyes didn’t express any emotion.

“You’re a funny girl, Miss L/N. It’s a shame, really, that I have to do this.” He gestured towards the gun. “But, needs must. You overheard my conversation, didn’t you?”

He stepped even closer, and you were almost sure you could hit him with the element of surprise, hit his gun from his hands. But your shaking hands betrayed that thought. What if it didn’t work? What then?

And you don't know who to love until you're lost

“You really do have to be fucking stupid if you don’t think that Tommy won’t have preempted any of the shit you plan to pull.” You spat, lowering your hands a tiny fraction. He didn’t notice.

“He seems rather distracted lately, doesn’t he? And anyone in Birmingham can tell you about the... ah, what should we call them? Cracks that are beginning to show in the Shelby family.”

“Perhaps he is distracted because your family murdered his fucking wife, Changretta.” Your hands were now barely raised, but he was distracted, each of your staring into the others eyes - fear and anger versus power and arrogance.

“As he killed my father.”

“This is nothing to do with me. Just let me go, okay?”

“You have already ruined my plans. Someone will have already found your boyfriend, I assume, and he and the rest of the Shelby’s will be on their way here.”

“So go. You know you can’t win against them. Not tonight.” Your heart was thrumming in your ears so loudly everything felt almost quiet in comparison.

And you don't know how to feel until the moment's passed

“But I can take something from them. Your time is up, Miss Shelby.”

“Y/N?” You heard a yell, an almost terrified one, but it was at least a street away. Finn would never get here in time.

Changretta turned his head towards the noise, and you took that moment, grabbing the gun in his hands, trying to wrestle it out of them, desperately. There was a bang and then there was silence, and the gun slipped from between your fingers, clattered to the floor. Your eyes regarded Changretta with shock, as your knees began to buckle, and you landed onto the cold hard cobbles, hands trying to find what was wrong.

“I’m sorry I had to do this.” For a second, you almost thought he sounded genuinely sad. “But your family took something from me. Now, I must take everything from them.”

“Y/N!” The voice was louder now, and you turned, to see a group of men at the top of the street - Finn amongst them. They came too late.

I wish you'd live like you're made of glass

You turned back to Changretta , but he had already gone, disappeared into the shadows.

It only felt like seconds before Finn was in front of you, and you had raised a shaky hand to point the direction where Luca Changretta had gone, directing the rest of the Blinders with him. Soon, the way it had always been, it was just the two of you. Finn and Y/N.

His eyes scanned you for injuries, before they landed on your abdomen, the dim streetlights enough to see the scarlet liquid on your dress, spreading across the cobblestones. It was too much, for such a small person, you thought. You weren’t shocked, as you saw it, you knew as soon as the gun went off you were hit, and now you could feel the metal bullet, lodged somewhere inside you, feel the pain that extended to your fingers and toes.

“No.” He said quietly, his eyes locking with yours. “No.”

“Finn-“ Your hands reaches out to cup his face, the blood on them leaving marks on his cheeks, but you didn’t care. You wanted to feel his warmth. You were so cold. So fucking cold.

“I need an ambulance.” He roared, looking towards the pub where you had been only ten minutes before, where several people were looking out at the scene. “Right fucking now!”

They weren’t ones to ignore a Shelby, and so they dissapearwd from the window. You knew it would do no good. You knew you-

And we've got work in the morning, But it's nearly 5 a.m.

“I’m going to die Finn.” Your eyes were filled with tears, as were his, as he tried to press your wound, ripping off his jacket, holding it against your abdomen.

“No you’re not. You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay.” He repeated like a mantra, his voice shaky and cracking at every word.

Finn knew death. He had seen what felt like a hundred people die, had been the cause of several, and he knew from the look in your eyes, the paleness of your skin, that this was the end. Somewhere, deep down, he knew you were going to die, right there, on this rainy street, cold, and scared. He knew he could do nothing about it.

“It’s okay, Finny.” You said gently, hands still caressing his face. “You’re here. That’s all I need.”

“Don’t die on me now, yeah? Please.” That word, filled with so much emotion, as he almost begged you.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry we argued ... tonight. I just ...” You trailed off, your mind not really working, not letting you find the words. God, it hurt so fucking much. In the distance, you thought you heard the ambulance.

“It’s fine. It’s fine.”

You nodded, leaning up against the wall behind you, feeling the cold start to set into your bones. The world felt almost fuzzy. You looked up, into the night sky. The pollution in Birmingham never allowed for stars in the sky, but you wished you could see them, right now.

You felt your eyes become heavier, like someone was weighing them down with pennies.

Is this really what we envisioned?

“Love you.” You mumbled, looking back to Finn. He was crying freely now, and you wanted to wipe away the tears, but it felt like you had forgotten how to move.

“Come on, the ambulance is almost here. Just a few more minutes.”

You shook your head, a tiny movement. You smiled at the boy, the boy who had made the last five years of your life bearable, who was your first, and last, love. You thought about the house you were planning on buying together, and the crib that you one day were going to have, and the honey suckle in the garden.

And you closed your eyes.

We won't be 21 again

[sweetchup]

Hi!! If your ask box is open, could I get a fluffy kurapika x reader? Just something very gentle and soft and maybe some cuddles bc kurapika deserves lots of loving!! Thank you so much!!

Wild Berry Pie

Type: Kurapika x Reader

Au?: None

Word Count: 2,300+

Warnings: None

“Hold on what?!?” You shout; surprise. Hold up, Why should you be surprised? This was Kurapika you were talking about. But seriously? You were going to scold your boyfriend so hard for only sleeping a total of 15 hours this whole week, getting himself injured (thankfully he could heal himself but still), working himself to death and, on top of that, this was all after recovering from a really bad sickness.

Melody hushes you as the other patrons of the cafe turn and glare at you. You let out a small squeak of an apology at them before returning to sipping on your drink, all the while mumbling, “Kurapika… what the heck were you thinking...”

“I’m sorry (y/n)-Chan. I didn’t mean to get you worked up, I just wanted to let you know.”

You look at Melody in front of you, the woman was looking down at her drink in shame. She knew it wasn’t her fault that Kurapika wasn’t taking care of himself but she felt bad for not telling one of her closest friends and Kurapika’s girlfriend, (y/n), sooner. You shake your head, giving a small smile. “Please It’s not your fault he’s acting this way. I’ve been gone for a while and I shouldn’t have left in the first place, I mean I kind of expected this. He’s practically been out of it since York New. Plus, on top of that, he has the amount of stress Nostrade is putting on him due to Neon losing her Nen.”

Melody gives a smile at the girl in front of her. No wonder Kurapika was in love with her. (Y/n) was not only pretty on the outside but also on the inside. Her voice was so soft and heartwarming, it could calm the harshest of storms and also act like a nice warm campfire on a cold bitter night. The smile (y/n) produced, even the smallest of ones, was practically contagious and definitely lit up a room. And her heart, oh her heart, produced such a loving melody. It sung with all her compassion for her comrades, friends and even the well-being of some strangers.

She practically was the light of hope in Kurapika’s life. The small thing that he knew could give him some purpose after all his revenge plans were done. Sure, it would be hard for him, very hard in fact, to figure something out when everything’s all done. But he knew that (y/n) would be there right next to him, never ever thinking of leaving him behind.

“Oh, (y/n)-Chan are you okay?” Melody says concerned as you suddenly stand up. You look at the women in the eyes, yours gleaming with determination.

“I know exactly what to do! Kurapika has an early shift tonight and a late one tomorrow so I’ll make him something special tonight. To get him to relax.”

Melody giggles. Oh how kind you were. “That would be perfect (y/n)-Chan.”

Ecstatic, (y/n) pays for their drinks, giving melody a small ‘thank you' and waves as she rushes out the door. Melody waves back before returning to her drink. Looking at the tea cup, she starts thinking back, back to York New, back to the Nostrade Mansion, Back to the hunter exam, back to that one tragic night and finally thinking of now, on how thankful she was of (y/n) and —

Melody is suddenly startled out of her thoughts as (y/n) slides to the table, almost slipping past her. The girl is clearly tired since she is sweaty and out of breath. Melody blinks a couple of times, unsure of what happened to (y/n).

“M-melody? Do you happen—happen to have the keys to the dorms-s”

Melody blinks some more before breaking out in laughter. Oh how silly (y/n) could be.

—————————

“And…. Done!”

You let out a sigh and stretch your back. It was hard work getting all this done but it was definitely worth it. Putting your hand on your hips you take in the living room in front of you. The Tv was on with a classic comedy movie, ready to be started. Part of the floor and coach was covered head to toe in different blankets, stuffed animals and pillows to lounge on. Then there was the coffee table, which held many sweets, snacks and drinks and finally the main course of it all….

“(Y-y/n)?” A voice says behind you. Spinning around you see Kurapika taking his shoes off with his bag dropped on the floor. He looked amazed as he looked at the set up in front of him.

“Surprise!” You shout, running up to your boyfriend and giving him a hug. Pulling away you boop his nose, “I thought you needed it especially after I heard you weren’t taking care of yourself. Hmph! How many times do I have to tell you to get a good amount of sleep?!”

Kurapika lets out a small smile at you. “Sorry I’ve been very bus—“

“No buts Mister kurapika” you say, poking his chest. “You're so stubborn sometimes. That’s why I have to come and make you chillax~.”

He lets out a small chuckle as you pull him towards the pile of pillows. Though he soon takes your hand off his arm before you can make him sit. “I’m sorry you had to go through so much trouble but I actually have to get some work done.”

“W-What? Did you not hear what I just said?!” You say. Kurapika looks away from you. This idiot. You bring your hands up to his face, forcing him to look at you. “Kurapika you need to rest. You—“

“(Y/n) I’m sorry I need to get this done.” He says in a firm voice, pulling your hands off his face as he walks away. He was longer playing around and you knew if you continued you could anger him. Clenching your teeth you raised your voice a little bit.

“Kurapika if this is about the spiders it can wait!”

He snaps his head around.

“Excuse me?” He says with a dangerous low voice.

“I said if this is about the spiders it can w—“

“What do you know? Huh?!” Kurapika says furious. He stalks towards you and backs you up against the wall. You choke up as you lock eyes with his scarlet ones, “You still have everything! Your family! Your childhood! Your best friend! I got mine all taken away. What do—“

“I DON’T!” You shout. Stopping him dead in his tracks as he sees a tear go down your face. He was so exhausted and out of it that he had taken his anger out on you. This wasn’t right and he knew he needed to calm down. Wiping the tears off your face you continue, “I don’t understand. I don’t think I ever will but I don’t want you to end up destroying yourself!”

“That’s not your job (y/n). It’s non—“

“It is because I love you. It’s my job as your girlfriend, your lover, to look after your well being Kurapika! I would be a horrible one if I didn’t ever try.”

Both of you are silent for a second after your final outburst. A thick awkward silence. You and Kurapika like to deal with your problems through discussions so this was quite rare for you two to have an argument. Even if this one was small, you didn’t know how to react or feel. When you gulped or took a breath too long you felt like you were adding to the tension by making too much noise. You go to apologize but Kurapika cuts you off by giving you a small kiss on the forehead. “I know you do. I just... you know it’s my goal to avenge them, you know?”

Wrapping his arms around you, Kurapika pulls you into a hug. The soft scent of cologne on him fills your senses, making you relax.

After a couple of minutes you two pull away and both give each other a small smile.

“We both lost our cool huh?” Kurapika says, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah.” You say quietly, “Can you take a small break though? Just for tonight? I’m just concerned you’ll get hurt or sick again.”

Kurapika sighs and thinks for a second. He decides it was ok to take a break for just one night, he nods his head in affirmation. Smiling, you mischievously tackle him onto the coach. Kurapika groans as you land and peck his cheek.

“Ugh you are heavy. Get off” He says; jokingly.

Your mouth falls open in surprise. “Excuse me?!”

Determined to get back at him for the insult you cuddle him closer and attack his face with kisses. Kurapika, his face bright red, tries to move away from your barrage of affection. You let out a giggle as you pull away, you had completely forgotten you had put on a little lipstick so he had many stained kiss marks all over him. Even one smudge on the corner of his lips.

He raises an eyebrow as you use a phone and take a picture of him. Laughing you turn it around, showing him. Letting out a groan he covers his face, embarrassed.

“(Y/n)!” Kurapika whines, “Delete that!”

“No~~” You whine back, leaning yourself onto his chest.

For the next hour, you two enjoyed each other's presence. Laughing with mouths full of popcorn at the cheeky comedy. Creating small talk, well attempting, while chewing on some toffee. Sharing sweet small kisses and loving stares in between the movie scenes. It was a wonderful and perfect night.

Lightly, you groom your fingers through Kurapika’s soft golden locks as he lays asleep on your stomach. You felt relieved that the Kurta male is sleeping and will hopefully no longer be exhausted when he wakes up. Speaking of Kurta, you look at the covered dish in the center of the table. You didn’t reveal the main course of tonight to him. You sigh. Oh well, you can’t do much about it now.

“What’s wrong, habib albi?” Kurapika mumbles into your shirt.

“O-oh I thought you were asleep.” You say, blushing. You were a sucker for Kurapika talking in his native tongue, even though you only understood some of the simple things. It especially made you melt when it came to him calling you pet names or giving you small compliments. He once told you your pet name ‘habib albi’ roughly translated to ‘love of my heart’.

He hums and sits up. “Don’t change the subject.”

You sigh, standing up. Walking over to the coffee table. “Ok but don’t freak out, ok?”

Grabbing a hold of the cover, you lift it up. Revealing a pie underneath.

“(Y-y/n) is that-t?”

“I know you don’t like me looking through your stuff from your village but I remember you mentioning that your mother used to make you your favorite Wild Berry Pie whenever you were stressed. So I thought It counted as an exception.”

You suddenly feel Kurapika pull you into his lap. Looking up you see Kurapika with a small smile along with a couple of stray tears rolling down his face.

“K-kurapika I’m sorry! I didn’t mean for you to be upset.” You reach up and carefully wipe the tears off his face. He soon stops you.

“I’m not. Don’t worry habib albi, I’m not.” He squeezes you closer to him, “I’m actually happy. How did you do it though?”

“Oh! Umm I took one of the old dictionaries you had and looked through the Kurta recipe books until I found the Wild Berry Pie. It’s not exact since we don’t have the same ingredients as the Lukso Province but I got it as close as I could.”

“Ah I see. That sounds very hard to do.” Kurapika says chuckling.

“Yeah it was” You say, leaning over and sighing as you remember the grueling three hours it took to figure out and make. You suddenly sit up, “A-ah do you want me to grab you a slice?”

Kurapika nods his head and you excitedly get up and cut a slice. You had taken so much time in it you wanted it to be perfect. As you lifted it and put it on a plate you sighed, relieved. It had come out perfect. Due to the cover, the pie was still warm and fresh, the right time to eat it at. The crust was a perfect golden color and thankfully not soggy. The wild assortment of berries you added had started to ooze out onto the plate, leaving a nice purple-reddish trail and a pleasant aroma.

You felt proud of your accomplishment and sat back in kurapika’s lap. Now was the ultimate test. Handing him a fork, you watch in grueling anticipation as he takes a bite. Blankly he slowly chews and swallows, causing you to gulp. You messed it up didn’t you? He finally turns and looks at you. Finally, he gives you a wide smile, the first big smile in a while.

“My 'um would be proud.”

You let out a loud ‘yay’ in happiness and kurapika holds you close. You were beyond the moon in happiness that he had said his mom would be proud of your pie. Your pie!

“(Y/n)” You look towards Kurapika’s call to see a fork in front of your face, holding a piece of the pie, “Say ahh~”

You open your mouth and he feeds you the piece. Chewing, you moan at the taste. It was absolutely delicious. Each berry was exploding with a unique flavor. Which ends up creating a sweet blend with the right bit of tartness.

Looking up at Kurapika, you watch as he takes another bite. All the while still smiling. Tonight and every other date were amazing but nothing and you mean nothing was as perfect as seeing this. Kurapika with a wide smile on his face.

You would definitely have to make this pie again.

[heyhihellowhatsup0]

Tangled Webs - Chapter Five (Peter Parker x Reader)

Dark Webs Masterlist | Tangled Webs Masterlist

Warnings:   Angst, language, Smut (smut in this chapter!), Topics of death and depression, PTSD, more angst, violence, a bit more fluff and smut than the last series? Somewhat ignoring the MCU timeline due to mature content

Word Count: 5922

Summary: After doing your best to walk on eggshells around Peter, you finally reach the boiling point as you and him face (most) of your drama head on...

A/N: I am so sorry this took so long to post! But trust me, I think this chapter is worth it! There’s a lot of angst but some smut as well so I hope you guys enjoy this! I’m nervous af so please let me know what you guys think! Your sweet words and comments always make me smile! (Also I found this .gif on google, so if you made it, or know who did, let me know and I will credit!) Thank you xx -N

Local deli, ‘Delmars Delicatessen,’ was robbed early yesterday morning, leaving the owner minorly injured. Sources say the burglar managed to steal over $25,000 in cash from a cash safe in the back room. Officials have no word on how the burglars were aware of such a safe in the first place but suspects as of late are currently former employees.

The only identification of the potential burglar is that it was female. The woman who robbed the store managed to stun the owner with a taser and left him on the floor as she cracked the code to his safe and left him.

Spider-Man was not on scene during the robbery, making it the first actual successful burglary since the start of these random acts. Officials stated that the webbed avenger was off securing the Hudson River from a potential attack; making the burglary an open opportunity.

The Queensboro Police Department announced that they will be on high alert in the area in regards to catching the female burglar. The descriptions of the woman are currently nondescript, as she was wearing a blask mask and had no distinctive marks.

The previous five attempted burglaries within the Queensboro and Forest Hill area were all brought in to authorities by Queens’ very own, Spider-Man. There has been no comment or any sort of proclamation by any authority that any or all of these burglaries are related. However, locals have taken to believe that they are and are doing whatever they can to feel safe.

Spider-Man has released an exclusive statement with The Daily Globe saying he will be on a watch of his own to capture this masked woman in order to bring her in.

You tensed as you stared at the cover story with a wary look. You never had to write a news story about yourself before and it wasn’t a good look at that. You felt as if you were about to throw up and the worst thing was that Peter had no idea you wrote this about yourself.

A bad thing was done. A really bad thing. And you were the one responsible. You hurt a man who has never done any harm to you. A man who always treated you and Peter well whenever you went to visit him and his shop. And what you did to him last night was completely unforgivable.

You weren’t in control and you knew that. But it was still your body and you had to take responsibility for your body. Your hands being the only ones who put that mask over your eyes last night. Your feet being the ones who ran all the way to Delmars before it opened. Your fingers pushing the trigger of your taser gun to stun Mr. Delmar right into his side. Your leg being the one that kicked the safe open with your new strength, grabbing everything inside and using the same exact legs to run out of there before the sun came up.

You did as you were told but it was still you. And now because of that, you were wanted.

It wasn’t surprising that when Peter came home, he came home with a story for you to write. He just had no idea it was your story. He knew you needed a story for the Daily Globe and were doing so well covering these random robberies, he wanted you to spread the word to everyone in the city. It resonated with Peter a lot and you could tell how much this hurt him seeing his friend going through something like this. All because of you.

Peter wanted to find this person, you. He came home with such defeat, which was why he wanted you to write this story so badly. To scare the one who robbed Delmars that Spider-Man was looking for you. And he wasn’t going to rest until he brought you to justice.

You were also a reporter and you had a job to do. You couldn’t stop writing about the news because you were the news. And you had a reputation to uphold so you knew you couldn’t lie about what Peter had seen, that wouldn’t help anybody. The only thing you could do was withhold information that only Peter knew. The information Peter found out that the authorities wouldn’t believe. The corrupt or cons going on that Peter brought to justice.

And now you were part of that category, weren’t you?

You could barely even look at the article, or Peter reading it from across the table as he sipped on his coffee. The look on his face was something that he was proud of you, but you knew that if he knew the truth that he would be nothing but disgusted and horrified by you.

It didn’t help that you couldn’t tell him either. You couldn’t risk it after learning what Octavious would do to Peter if he found out. You already had so much blood on your hands as it was, Peter’s sure as hell wasn’t going to be one of them. Throughout all of this, you had to keep him safe no matter what.

Your hand went to your chest, holding your spider-web pendant against your palm as you watched Peter’s reaction as he continued to read, “I hope I covered everything,” you told him with an unsteady voice.

“You said it better than I did,” Peter told you, giving you a somewhat sigh of relief as he put the article down and gave you a proud smile. There wasn’t anything for him to be proud of though as you sat there awkwardly as he leaned over to kiss you cheek to let you know how he felt, “This is going to nail that woman to the wall, I know it,” he added lowly.

Nearly choking on your coffee, you let out an awkward laugh as you nodded your head. How could you even respond to something like that without sounding suspicious? Or without Octavious listening in and threatening you again that he would kill Peter. Because you knew he’d be listening in.

“Peter, are you sure that this was a good idea? How do you know that whoever this woman was hasn’t already fled the country? Or how do you know that she isn’t looking for you too?” you tried. You knew Peter could sometimes let things get to him a bit quicker when they were so personal to him. And you were hoping to maybe knock some sense into him to stand down a bit while you waited for Octavious to finish using you for whatever he needed you.

Peter scoffed as he grabbed his EDITH glasses, flashing you a cocky smile, “Y/N, please. I’ve seen her type thousands of times. The day I can’t handle an armed robber is the day I really do retire and go to that lake house,” he said to you as he tipped his head close to yours and captured your bottom lip.

Kissing him back, you tried not to make it obvious how nervous you were with him finding out the truth. What if he figured it out on his own? There was no way in hell that you could lie to him about it if he did. You worried about Peter constantly and now you were worried about him even more because you were afraid that you were going to hurt him. Both emotionally and physically.

“I’m so proud of you, Y/N,” Peter answered as he pulled away from the kiss, pecking your lips once more before he started heading down to the gym to practice, “Like I say, I’m just your henchman, right?” he laughed into another kiss as he slid his EDITH glasses up the bridge of your nose.

You mustered up a nod, “Love you,” you told Peter as you sent him towards the elevator to head out for the afternoon, leaving you face to face with the hack job of an article you had written.

It stared back at you like it had fangs and red eyes, like it was evil. And suddenly, you felt that way about yourself. Rereading the words you used to describe yourself; you read over again how many people were looking for you and how severely you hurt Mr. Delmar. And you had no idea what that sweet man had anything to do with Octavious’ plan.

What else was he going to have you do? Or who else was he going to have you hurt? You had a horrible feeling he wasn’t going to be done with you any time soon and that made you feel even more sick. Not to mention, based off the transmission you weren’t supposed to receive the other night during Peter’s mission, you knew Octavious wasn’t working alone; and there were things, bad things, that he didn’t want you hearing. At least not yet.

After staring at the paper for so long, you grabbed it and ripped it in half, flinging it across the room as if it were confetti. You couldn’t look at the mess you made anymore because the thoughts of what was going to happen next were too upsetting. You knew it would be inevitable before the next and you were only getting stronger. You didn’t know what you were capable of anymore.

“You did a stupendous job, sweetheart,” Octavious’ voice came through giddily. His happy-go-lucky tone made you even more sick to your stomach as you got up from your chair with fury.

“The money is yours, just get out of my head,” you told him, beginning to march up towards the lab to get his cash out of the safe. You needed out of this...whatever it was. And you were hoping the money would be enough.

“It’s not that simple. And you’re just what I need to finish this, so we’re not done quite yet,” Octavious chuckled in your head, which only made you want to cry right then and there.

It was then when you realized he wasn’t ever planning on letting you go. Not even if you were done. You were strong and capable of a lot and he knew that now. And because he knew that, he was turning you into his own personalized weapon. Because he’d never get caught when it came to you. And even if you got caught, they’d never find the chip in your head that traced back to him. Octavious would get off scot free and find someone else to manipulate.

You knew Octavious wasn’t acting alone. There was someone else, maybe a partner or even a puppet master of his own that was calling these shots. You knew you weren’t his first test subject but you didn’t know what happened to the others. Did they get killed? Or did the microchips not take like yours did? Maybe it made them sick? There had to be a reason why Octavious was keeping you over the rest, it was because you were the only success story thus far.

“Then you gotta tell me who else I’m working for,” you demanded as you unlocked the lab, heading over to your secret stash. Opening the safe as you saw the entire motherlode staring right back at you. Your mask, the loads upon loads of cash, and your unopened bottles. Everything you had been dying to get rid of.

“Do you really think you have power over me, sweetheart?” Octavious said as he suddenly forced you to lean into the safe and grab the bottle, “You’re nothing without me. You’re his proxy who writes little articles about what he wants while you drink away the pain. Thanks to me, I’m making you something,” he told you as he let go of you.

You slammed the bottle down on the floor, taking a step away from it, “What do you want with Peter? He’s no use to you and you have to know that I don’t control him,” you tried again as you tried to fight back the tears once again.

But Doctor Octavious laughed maniacally as you remained seated on the floor, staring down at the bottle that was beginning to look more and more appetizing the more you stared at it. But you knew Octavious wasn’t the one making you crave it right now, that was coming from you.

The stress and anxiety was eating at you bit by bit. Needing something so badly to take some of your pain away, even just temporarily. Fighting with your brain and going back and forth, hearing Peter’s voice in the back of your head. You knew you should refrain yourself, that’s what you wanted overall. You turned your head away from the bottle, fighting with your vision to not look at the temptation that was before you.

“I beg to differ. There’s a lot of things that worthless little spider would be willing to do for you and I’d bet money on it…” he threatened as he fixed your vision back onto the bottle, making you begin to unscrew the cap, “And I know what you’d do to keep him alive, right? So have a drink and let’s have a toast to your amazing work the other night and to many more!” he cheered in your voice.

Only he wasn’t forcing you to drink it. But he knew you would. It was a threat if you didn’t, otherwise he would kill Peter. That was his leverage over your head, knowing you would keep your mouth shut and comply with whatever he wanted because you were trying to save Peter.

Closing your eyes, you brought the rim of the bottle to your lips as the harsh scent ran up your nostrils. Scrunching your nose up with a whimper, you took a quick swig before you placed it back down on the floor. Wiping your mouth of the alcohol, you hoped that would be enough to appease Octavious to just leave you alone.

“Good girl,” he told you as you tried to relax your body a bit as you curled up near the safe as tears began running down your cheeks. Knowing perfectly well that with Doctor Octavious or whoever else in your brain, there was no relaxing. Not now, not ever.

There was silence and for a moment you thought Octavious had departed for the time being but you still felt his presence. He was just observing now, haunting you, reminding you that he could. At any given time, he could just pay you a visit or worse, take control of you.

Because he had full control over you because you were scared he’d hurt Peter. And you’d do anything, rob anything you had to if it meant Peter was unharmed. And Octavious was well aware of that and he was determined to use it against you at any moment like this.

“Now finish it,” he told you as he disconnected from your device. Automatically feeling a difference in your head, feeling a bit lighter as you sank into the floor; now clutching the bottle in your hand.

————

Peter deactivated his suit, catching his breath as he looked at the success statistics KAREN and EDITH had relayed for him after the last simulation had come to an end. He couldn’t help but feel a bit proud of the numbers that were displayed for him. It wasn't that long ago that Peter was failing simulation after simulation and he was glad that he was getting stronger and becoming a better fighter like he used to be.

Strong like the old Peter…

Walking towards the exit, he noticed Agent Kent standing by the door with a smile. Peter shook his head as he removed his mask from his head, “You know it's dangerous to be in here while I’m running simulations, right?” Peter told him with a joking voice as he gave him a high-five.

“Did you just win all of those simulations on the hardest level?” Kent asked Peter with an impressed voice. He watched as Peter nodded his head, walking past him to grab a towel to dry off, “Remind me to check to make sure they’re programmed correctly,” he teased Peter with a nudge.

“I programmed them, they better be,” Peter retorted with a smug look. He was feeling good about himself, “Got to be ready next time that lady thief comes by again. I’m on a high alert for her,” he told Kent with a knowing look.

Kent shook his head with a laugh, “Meeting tomorrow was moved to 8 am, don’t be late,” he told Peter as he walked down the hall towards his quarters on one of the lower floors. Great, an early meeting to talk about what else was fucked up in this city, Peter thought as he headed into the elevator, pressing your floor as he rode it back up.

But Peter didn’t want to think about how fucked up the city or the world was right now. He knew plenty of how the world was. Right now, he just wanted to get back to his floor. His own tiny haven in this enormous tower with little to no privacy. Even when he was practicing, somebody found him. He never truly had a moment just to himself. Not as Spider-Man.

The thoughts in Peter’s mind went blank as he felt the goose bumps beginning to raise on his arms as the tiny hairs on the back of his neck stuck out. Something was off as he stepped foot into your apartment, and he could tell right away that it had something to do with you.

Calling your name, Peter dropped his gym bag onto the floor and walked towards the bedroom, trying to find you as quickly as possible. He stopped in his tracks when he got a whiff of what was coming from the kitchen.

He turned his head and saw you standing by the stove, slicing some vegetables as you smiled up at him, “I’m making a frittata,” you told him quietly, trying to function as best as you could and hoping that the smell of the food was masking the other scents you knew Peter was bound to detect.

There was something off and Peter could sense it. But he couldn’t figure out what it was. Nodding his head he smiled back at you as he came behind you in the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, kissing your cheek in the process.

“Do you smell that?” Peter asked as he stood in front of the sink curiously. The same hairs still sticking up like something was wrong.

“The frittata?” you asked him, trying to keep yourself composed as you looked at him with the same blank expression.

Peter shook his head as he looked around, “Something doesn’t feel right,” he said warily as he looked around more, “I can’t tell what it is…” he trailed off as he walked into the other room to try to investigate.

“Stand down, tiger,” you snorted as he brought the vegetables into the frying pan to simmer for a bit as you cleaned your hands off, “A bit paranoid are we?” you offered again.

You could sense Peter’s paranoia and it was making you nervous. Mainly because you knew you were the reason he was detecting something was wrong, and you knew you weren’t going to be able to hide it from him. It was making your stomach do back flips, making you nauseous as the smell of the frittata you were making went through your nostrils while the alcohol you annihilated earlier was bound to resurface.

Before you knew it, your hand was over your mouth as you ran to the bathroom, pushing Peter to the side as you hovered over the toilet, emptying your stomach out as you heaved into it. Peter came up behind you, holding your hair back as he motioned his hand gently against your back to try and relax you.

Peter looked away from it as you slowly began to pull yourself away and clean your face in the sink. But he saw the clear liquid that was purged out and he knew the hairs on his neck were standing because you were the one who was in trouble.

“Y/N…” Peter bit his lip as he pulled your hair out of the way as you washed your face. You knew where he was going with it and you couldn’t face that truth right now. You just couldn’t.

“No, Peter,” you shot him down as you splashed some water on your face before you rinsed your mouth out, “Don’t start,” you warned him, hoping that would keep him from continuing the conversation. But who were you kidding? If the tables were turned you knew you wouldn’t either. In fact, you didn’t when it was Peter drinking excessively.

Of course, this time it was because you were forced to by Doctor Octavious. You just couldn’t tell Peter that otherwise he would get killed. So now, you had no choice but to act like you did this willingly.

“I have to, Y/N,” Peter answered lowly as he followed you out of the bathroom again, “I...I can’t be around you like this,” he finally said the words. The words he never thought he would say because he never thought he would need to. But he needed to.

Peter knew this was dangerous. You needed help but he couldn’t force you right now. And he also knew he couldn’t be around you when you were drinking so much. It broke his heart and he cared so much right now but you needed to care about yourself too, and you weren’t. But Peter needed you to so he wouldn’t fall apart either, as selfish as that sounded. And maybe you needed more of a push to get to that point to better yourself.

“What? You’re going to break up with me over this? When you drank, you threw me against the wall in a chokehold, Peter,” you reminded him vividly, still clearly not in your best state of mind. But Peter’s threat not only hurt you, it scared you immensely. The idea of losing him because of you was something you couldn’t deal with, not now or ever.

Peter winced at the thought. Those were his most dark and troubling times. And even though he took responsibility and was grateful every moment of every day you forgave him, he still had a hard time forgiving himself for what he put you through. It was hard reliving those memories and he tried not to so he could live in the present, with you. But right now, your present was beginning to look a lot like Peter’s past.

“I never said I was dumping you, I would never leave you. But I think you may need some time alone to figure out what you need,” Peter tried again, a bit more sternly but his eyes were filled with concern for you, “This isn’t you, Y/N,” he told you as he softened his tone.

You shook your head and scoffed at him, feeling your head getting heated as Peter started again, “Really, Peter? You’re one to talk about not being yourself,” you bit your lip as you pivoted in his direction.

“Me?” Peter asked monotonously, licking his lips as he saw all of the anger in your eyes. Peter really didn’t want this to turn into a fight. But it always did because you were still in denial. And Peter knew the only one who could make you see your truth was you, so until you did, it was an argument each and every time.

And he wasn’t sure how much longer he could watch you do this to yourself. Allowing his group therapy peer’s advice to look a little more intriguing.

“Yes. You’ve been acting like a completely different person lately,” you snapped back, trying to keep your tone level like Peter’s as you continued, “You asked me to move to a lake house upstate because you couldn’t stand the city and then acted as if it never even happened, Peter,” you reminded him of that incident and how the both of you were guilty for never actually talking about it again.

“You said no and the idea clearly upset you. I didn’t want to make you more upset by begging you to move. What did you want me to do, Y/N?” Peter asked you as he felt his throat beginning to feel dry. He hated fighting like this and he knew this wasn’t going to end well because now you were looking for a reason to blame Peter. He saw the signs all too well.

You didn’t know why you were so angry. You were hurt, and terrified of losing Peter, and you didn’t know what else to do. And now you were just letting out all of the things you had been bottling up over the last month or so, even though you knew that wasn’t fair. Maybe it was the alcohol in your system but you didn’t know how to turn it off.

“I don’t know. But the Peter I know wouldn’t have done anything of that,” you challenged him finally. The final nail in the coffin and you saw the look on Peter’s face, you knew that was an answer he was not expecting.

Because the old Peter was the one who you both hated. The one who put you in harm’s way and pushed you away until there was barely anything left. The old Peter was aggressive and hurt you in more ways he wasn’t proud of. So it took Peter by surprise hearing you say that. Maybe it was out of anger or to get a rise out of him, but you were both saying things you didn’t necessarily mean right now and he knew he needed to stop.

Peter walked over towards the kitchen and turned the stove off, seeing everything starting to burn. He shook his head as he cleaned off some of the utensils to focus his stress elsewhere, “Did you want me to shout at you like I used to? Kill someone?” Peter paused as he bit the inside of his lower lip, “Drink myself to death like you are because I’m angry?”

    He was making his own blood boil when he spoke, clenching the glass in his hand as he accidentally shattered it, making you jump backwards, “I am angry, okay? I am! I’m angry every fucking day and all of this work I’m doing with my group is supposed to help me keep my anger from taking over again. So are you saying you don’t want that? You don’t like that I’m trying to do this for me and for you?!” he shouted as he looked down at the shattered glass on the floor.

  �� Silence filled the room between the two of you as you inched yourself a bit closer to Peter, standing in front of the island as you looked into his soft brown eyes. Of course, you were so proud of Peter and how far he had come these months. And you knew he didn’t do this for you, he did it for him which was the most proud you could get.

    Peter was trying to get you down the same path he was and you saw that and you were glad he cared about you so much. But how Peter was the last few weeks, and possibly months, was a very shut down version. Trying to push you to therapy, and then when you declined, he would act like nothing had happened. Not the Peter you were used to at all.

    And maybe that was on you. Maybe you pushed him to shut down here and there. But Peter was a fighter, and so were you. So it always surprised you when you got to these boiling points. And this was a point neither of you reached until just now. Both of you feeling scared and upset, and you had no idea what was going to happen next. But neither of you could stop.

    “No. I want you, Peter, I do,” you told him as you took another step closer to him, “But you just seem so….different. Like lately you’ve just been Peter Parker without Peter Parker,” you told him in a small voice as you tried to catch his gaze, but his focus was on the wall.

    It was everything Peter didn’t want to hear. He knew he wasn’t the same Peter but he was accepting that. He thought after everything that had happened, you would too. But maybe it was because of the things that were troubling you that it was making you question and challenge Peter in return.

    Balling his hand into a fist, Peter had enough as he suddenly drove it right into the wall in front of his face. He saw you jump backward as you gasped at the loud bang. Pulling his hand out of the wall, his cut up hand now covered in blood was splayed against the wall as he steadied his breath.

    “That Peter Parker?” he finally asked you without looking your way. He knew he took it too far, and he was ashamed that he did that. Especially in front of you. He hadn’t lost his cool like that in months, and certainly not in front of you. He never wanted to blow up in front of you like that again. He was so embarrassed for letting his anger get to him for even a second.

    You swallowed thickly as silence filled the room between the two of you. Blinking slowly, you nodded your head before you grabbed Peter by his arm and pulled him towards you as you crashed your lips against his. Pulling him closer as you began to feel him return your kiss.

    Both of you were still angry and reeling, but for now you just wanted to be close to each other. You were both shaken by Peter’s words and your actions, and for now the intimacy between you both was all that mattered. A temporary fix for your laundry list of problems that neither of you knew how to fix.

    Peter pushed you against the wall as he rolled his lips over yours with lust and desire. Craning your neck to the side as he moved his lips down to your neck, finding your sweet spot right away. Picking you up swiftly, you wrapped your legs around his waist in between his sloppy and slightly aggressive kisses. Bringing your arms to the nape of your neck to hold yourself up as Peter’s fingers began traveling to your waist.

    His fingers tucked underneath your jeans as he pushed them off, dropping them to the floor as his lips found yours once more. Your pent up anger for each other building between you both as you helped him shake his sweatpants off; your breath heavy and ragged as the fire between you both grew.

    The back of your head hit the wall as Peter began to tease your entrance, your free hand raising up to his chest to feel his heartbeat. Both of your senses on high alert as you looked into Peter’s eyes as you located his heart. Listening to the thuds, your way of finding your Peter in there as your eyes began fluttering closed while you pushed Peter into you.

Peter grabbed you by the leg gently and thrust in to you slowly. Placing his free hand against the wall to support you both as he pushed himself into you further. Hearing you let out a soft whimper as you moved your hips into him a bit faster, your hands running through the curls on the back of his neck.

Grunting into your ear, Peter found your lips again. Your tongues searching for each other as your thrusts intensified, your whimpers and moans vibrating against your lips. He found your hands and laced your fingers into his against the wall as he moved his hips faster into you, letting his senses take over as he continued.

Peter cussed under his breath as he ran a hand up your bare leg and against your inner thigh. As you clenched around his length, your body burning with each and every motion as you bit your lip, beginning to feel all of the sensations take control as you gripped Peter firmly.

You held onto Peter’s hand as he began to circle you slowly with his fingers, making you moan louder as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your edge. Your bodies forming a rhythm together as your kisses grew sloppy and more desperate for each other, the neediness for being close still apparent amongst the two of you.

Circling you faster, Peter kept thrusting into you as your whimpers together grew more and more. He could sense how close you were from how tense your body was getting, and he was letting all of his aggression out with you. He knew he wasn’t far behind as he found your lips again. Moaning into his kiss as he pushed you both to your edges.

Finally reaching your highs together as you cried out Peter’s name and he collapsed into the nape of your neck. Shaking and vibrating underneath Peter as his hips continued into you as he began moaning into your sensitive skin. Everything felt so intense as you began to open your eyes, slowly coming down from your intoxicating state.

Peter took a breath as he slowly brought you back down to the earth. Pushing the hair out of your face he reached over and kissed your lips again. This time it felt different from moments earlier, it was more loving, tender even. You can feel how much he loved and cared for you in the kiss as you returned the same thing to him as he lifted you into his arms.

    Carrying you into the bedroom, he knew you both needed to sleep this off. He placed you down on the bed in the darkness, crawling over to his side of the bed without even needing the light on. He pulled the covers up over the two of you and found his place in between your arms as he kissed your bare shoulder.

    The two of you didn’t speak, the silence spoke for itself as you both let the exhaustion from earlier take over.

    It wasn’t until you woke up in the middle of the night that you felt Peter get out of bed. Only you didn’t feel it, you sensed it. You rubbed your eyes as they adjusted to the darkness and crawled towards the edge of the bed, seeing Peter by the balcony window.

    Holding his gym bag over his back…

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[solarcity]

☼  ❛    ━   guess the 23 YEAR OLD JULY baby just arrived to dallyeog! it makes sense, because JO CHAESOL is just as LUMINOUS as the month of JULY. wait, why do they remind me of JANG YEEUN? beyond that, they seemed ANIMATED & OUTGOING upon first glance. i heard someone say they’re sort of CAREWORN & AIMLESS though. i hope they get acquainted here in COMPLEX #3 / APARTMENT #0717 / FLOOR #2 ; SHE seems to have a lot going on with HER job as A MED STUDENT.

hello all, i’m natti, a scatterbrained 24 yo who goes by she & her pronouns! forgive me if anything about this intro seems jumbled 🥺🥺🥺 chaesol is a super new muse for me, and a lot of information seems to rush at me at once when that happens jvvvxvxcx so for now, her biographical info is in bullet points! ( i will make a proper bio at some point !! ) i also have a wanted plots page set up and ready to go! pls i’m so excited to get to know all your cute muses 🥺 there’s some more details on this befuddled little sunchild under the cut, so feel free to peruse that! also if you’re down to plot, please do either message me or like this post and i’ll come to you! 

trigger warnings: cancer, death

name: jo chaesol age: twenty-three dob: 07/17/1997 gender identity: cis woman sexual orientation: bisexual romantic orientation: demiromantic occupation: third year of medical school

☼  bio:

chaesol was born via a surrogate in gyeongju-si to an older couple who had been unable to conceive. they’d sunk so much of their life’s earnings into fertility treatments and failed adoptions, they’d finally settled on the surrogacy option.

her father was diagnosed with an aggressive form of thyroid cancer when chaesol was a year old, and he died mere months later. as he was the main breadwinner for the family, the cost of raising a child alone became too much for chaesol’s mother to bear, so she rescinded her parental rights, sending the child hurtling into the foster care system.

even though she had a rather sunny disposition despite her circumstances, most of her placements with families were temporary. she learned early on that the key was to give everything and not expect much.

after a few years and incessant questions, the social worker who was assigned to her case informed her of her original family’s situation, and why’d she’d been placed in foster care in the first place. she couldn’t find it in her to blame her mother, as she probably thought this would give chaesol a chance at a happier life. it’s not like it could have been an easy decision, either. that’s the very attitude that kept her going, even when it seemed like she’d never find an actual home.

she sort of got used to spending every holiday with someone new, or maybe even with no one at all. it became an empty pattern. one that made her look at holidays as just mere days. another one to mark off the calendar. birthdays were even worse; a blight on humanity that she didn’t like to talk about.

finally though, she found it. her forever family came to her at age thirteen, and somehow, she knew it from the first day. they were so welcoming and warm; it matched so perfectly with her personality. they were unlike anyone she’d met in her shuffle from family to family. they’d ask her about all her favorite things and then surprise her with them. they didn’t treat her any differently because of where she came from. they cared. it was new and exciting; the months were stretching on before she knew it, and the sweet feel of permanence had allowed itself to settle in her hopeful soul.

not only did she now have two loving parents, but she also had two older siblings and three younger ones. both her parents and older siblings were all either in the medical field, or receiving medical training. there was so much to admire about her new family, it was a bit of a whirlwind. she’d never really given much thought to what she’d wanted to do for employment, but she figured following in the footsteps of the people who’d saved her was the least she could do.

her family was supportive of the idea, and were crucial in providing her with a lot of the basic information she’d need. many nights were spent on the living room floor with snacks and medical textbooks just pouring over numerous topics.

she entered medical school at age twenty, and she surprisingly thrived in the high pressure environment. due to her happy-go-lucky nature, she had an impeccable bedside manner. her memory was also one of her better attributes, which was critical when so much information was being thrown at you from every direction.

despite her success in school, she wondered if she really had a passion for all of this, or if she was simply doing it out of a sense of obligation to her family.

she’s now in her third year and preparing her residency applications. she’s still struggling with what she wants, but for now, it’s full steam ahead for dr. jo chaesol. she’s also considering specializing in oncology, in a sort of tribute for her first father, who passed away from cancer.

she’s been living at dallyeog for a few months now, due to its close proximity to her campus as well as her family. it’s simply the latest in a long list of her adventures!

☼  personality / fun facts

she’s ! so ! sunny ! i swear she is almost always finding something to smile about, even if it is a struggle. she likes to always appear happy because she thinks it’s her cross to bear, i guess??

she’s a bit of a gamer in her free time. she finds it to be an extremely fun escape from reality while also being an excellent tool to train her dexterity and hand-eye coordination.

very protective of her friends, but will also call them stupid if they do something extremely dangerous and make her deploy her first aid. and she’s constantly doing that btw ( even if you don’t ask ). just call her doctor dallyeog 🥺

very dutiful. if she feel like she has an obligation to you, she will see it through until her last breath. unpaid debts make her very uneasy. it also doesn’t help that her love language is acts of service, so she’s always doing little things for people anyway.

chaesol is a speed reader. it’s argued whether or not she can actually enjoy a book considering how she just breezes through them. still, she has a knack for comprehending information and committing it to memory, so there’s that!

she seems to have boundless energy, no matter what time of day it is. it’s actually kind of annoying. maybe she’s born with it or maybe she has coffee coursing through her veins due to her studies. the world may never know.

she has slight omphalophobia, which is a fear of having her belly button touched or tugged. she accepts that it’s irrational, but she’s never been able to stave off the fear regardless.