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willsdreamgirl · 1 year ago

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“morning mr. shelby.” — tommy shelby x reader ⋆｡˚

tommy shelby x fem!reader

you meet tommy as a nurse during the war, but happens when he realizes that he’s known you all along? (loosely based around some s1 plot points, but all set before the war)

18+ minors dni please! angst, fluff and smut

cw: mentions of war, shooting, stabbing, suturing, ptsd, friends to lovers, eventual smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!), slight breeding kink

word count: 5.4k+ (sorry lmao)

a/n: ahh first fic alert!! i’m so excited for you guys to read this! don’t be a ghost reader and lmk if you want to be added to my tag list for future tommy/cillian stuff!! 💌

you met tommy shelby during the war. he was a soldier, you were a wartime nurse. before the war, you had obviously heard of him. tommy shelby, leader of the fucking peaky blinders. arrogant bastards.

you lived in small heath, and everyday you’d pass him on the street. and everyday, you’d smile and say, “morning, mr. shelby.” and everyday, he would barely look up at you. you were sure he wasn’t even aware of your existence. prick.

your parents had always told you to stay away from the shelby boys. your dad would say that “they’re dangerous and make whores out of innocent girls” and your mum would make some comment about “the shelby men and their stupid cocks and their stupid judgements”.

they were the most intimidating people in all of small heath, possibly in all of birmingham. truth be told, there was a certain charm to them that you couldn’t shake off. well, to one of them. tommy shelby. you couldn’t tell if it was because he was your age, or because he was powerful and strong, or simply because he was strictly off limits. or because of his piercing blue eyes.

everyone in small heath knew tommy. but you knew tommy. he didn’t know you, though. you could tell if was him by the way he exhaled or by the sound of his footsteps or by the way he held a cigarette in his hand, the peaked cap on his head, a hand in his coat pocket. you despised tommy shelby, but god, was he fucking irresistible.

when men were drafted for the war in france, it was common sense that they’d need someone to tend to their cuts and bruises. you’d decided to volunteer, and after a couple weeks of training, you were right there, in the field. practicing on dolls and bags of rice and flour was nothing compared to what you saw. what you heard.

your first day in france was… eventful, to say the least. some commander had led you to the medical tent, and you were welcomed by the screams of hurt soldiers, blood and panic. you were immediately assigned to a patient, who’d been shot in the chest. you tried your best, did everything you could have, but ultimately, he had just lost too much blood. you didn’t sleep that night, haunted by the bloodshed, by the pleas of the soldier to keep him alive, by the feeling of someone else’s blood on your hands. over time, however, you grew accustomed to having your pristine white uniform soiled with blood and mud.

a month or so after you’d started, you heard shouts outside the tent. “help! someone HELP, for FUCK’s SAKE!” this was a regular occurrence, but the voice the shouts came from didn’t sound wounded. you felt an instinctual need to go see what it was.

what you saw, though, was something you never expected to see. tommy shelby, with a comrade’s head in his lap, putting pressure on a wound in his shoulder. without hesitating, you helped tommy drag the soldier to a vacant bed in the tent. “what happened?” you asked, hurriedly. tommy was visibly panicked. “i- he- um, he got st-stabbed by… one of the germans… his name’s danny- daniel.” you looked in tommy’s eyes, trying to give him some semblance of comfort. “he’ll be okay.” you applied pressure on the wound, and luckily, the blood stopped flowing soon. you cleaned the wound up and looked to tommy. “i’m gonna have to disinfect the wound with alcohol, you might want to hold daniel down for this.” daniel was still delirious from the blood loss, but the pain would be excruciating. tommy braced himself. his hands firmly holding down daniel’s. you nodded before tipping the bottle over on the wound. danny thrashed around on the bed, screaming and cursing, struggling against tommy’s hold. you heard his voice over danny’s. “you’re alright, lad! y’er gonna be fine!”

tommy sat by his friend’s bedside as he came to. you tended to other patients in the meantime but eventually went over to talk to him. “i want to keep him here for the night, mr. shelby. make sure there’s no infection.” he looked at you, surprised you knew him. “you know who i am?” “of course i do, all of small heath knows you. what i didn’t expect was to have a run-in with you, here in france.” he scoffed at his own misery and spoke. “you don’t belong here. you should be home.” you rolled your eyes, even in his state, he managed to be cocky. “if i wasn’t here today, mr. shelby, who would save danny?” that seemed to shut him up. he was about to speak, before you heard your name from the other side of the tent. “y/n, we need you!” after having helped a soldier who looked like he had been mauled, you looked out to see it was nightfall, and tommy had left.

a couple days later, at about noon, john shelby, the youngest of the shelby brothers walked in, clutching his arm tightly. “do you need help, mr. shelby?” you called out. “yes, i-i’ve been shot.” he all but whispered. you rushed over with a tray of distilled alcohol, forceps and bandages. after an afternoon of agony and pain, you had finally managed to pull out the bullet form his arm, john’s face a clear representation of his relief. “oh my god love, if we were home, i’d marry you right now.” you laughed at the proposition. “mr. shelby, i think you’re still a bit delirious from the anaesthesia. besides, i’m your brother’s age.” he looked shocked. “what, you’re arthur’s age? really?? you look nothing like that old prick.” you couldn’t help but laugh yet again. “i’m not that old, jesus. i’m tommy’s age.” he sighed. “marry him then. lord knows he needs a girl.” you giggled as you gathered your things and walked away. “you amuse me far too much, mr. shelby.”

it felt like ages had passed before you saw tommy again. your back was towards the tent entrance but you knew who had walked in. his breath trembled and his footsteps felt a bit unsteady, but it was undoubtedly him. you waited to turn until he called out your name. “y/n, is it?” you turned around, to find his face and shirt covered in blood. “mr. shelby! what happened?” you rushed over to him, taking his hand and sitting his down on a bed. “i- i… killed a man today, y/n.” he looked down, he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. you didn’t respond, simply got up and grabbed a stitching kit and a bowl of warm water. “is all this blood yours?” was your first question. “no. most of it is his.” you sighed and searched his face to find a cut on his cheekbone, the source of his own bleeding. “i’m wiping away the blood now, okay?” tommy gulped and nodded, his eyes still trained on the ground. “mr. shelby, i want you to look at me.” it was as if he didn’t hear you. you spoke again, softer yet more authoritative this time. “tommy. look at me.” he finally brought himself to look into your eyes. in his eyes, you saw guilt, regret and fear. in yours, he saw compassion, love and a warmth that could engulf all his pain. “good.” you whispered. you wrung out a washcloth and began wiping the blood away from his face, using your other hand to hold his chin in place. his arms found themselves wrapped around your waist, in an attempt to ground himself. you didn’t say anything, but your eyes told him that you didn’t mind. in that moment, you saw a different version of tommy shelby. you didn’t see ‘tommy, the criminal’, ‘tommy, the gangster’ or ‘tommy, the womanizer’. you saw tommy, a good man, an honest man. you felt his arms tighten around your waist as you pulled your hands away from his face, as if he was afraid you would dissipate into thin air. “tommy.” you whispered. “i’m gonna have to stich that wound up. it might hurt.” but he didn’t mind pain, not if you were the one inflicting it. “okay.” he spoke, his voice deep. he rubbed circles into your skin with his thumbs, the pain making him hum. “sorry, almost done.” you finished the last stitch. “there. you’re all fixed.” tommy held you like that, his hands around your waist, icy blue eyes staring into yours. your arms rested on his shoulders and you leaned down to whisper to him. “tommy. people are staring.” “so? let them.” eventually, he reluctantly pulled away from you. “it’s time for dinner, and then lights out.” he smiled as he spoke, and slowly exited the tent, catching a glimpse of you as he left.

needless to say, you only grew closer over the next few weeks. you were inseparable. whenever tommy had free time, he’d make his way to the familiar tent, and talk to you. it was wartime. you were left hurt and traumatized and so was he, but you both found solace in each other’s company. you told him how you knew him, and how you’d wish him good morning every day, only to receive complete silence from him each time. he chuckled and apologized. he told you about the peaky blinders, what they did, how they ran their business. you bonded over your shared hunger for knowledge and stories. you told him everything you knew about art, history and literature; and he told you stories of fighting gangs in the streets and stealing contraband. his stories were always more thrilling than yours. you’d try to set each other up with people for fun. you’d introduce him to every nurse, telling them how he was fighting for his country, and of course, they fell prey to his charming eyes and dashing smile. they’d ask what he did back home, and as soon as you said the words ‘gangster’, they’d run in the opposite direction. he’d done the same for you. introduced you to other soldiers, and when you spoke to them, about art and literature, they’d call you ‘unladylike’ or ‘too ambitious for a man’. you both secretly liked it this way, it was like you were his and he was yours.

when he became sergeant major, you both celebrated together. he’d brought you a bottle of whiskey, and you spent the night, talking and giggling drunkenly. but soon, he was assigned to be a sapper and dig tunnels. you both knew that the germans were going to dig their own tunnels, and at some unfortunate point, the tunnels would converge. both of you realized the danger it held, but he had to do it. you tried to talk him out of it, though. “tommy, please!” “y/n, calm down.” “goddamn it tommy, think! you’re gonna get yourself killed! what the fuck are you doing?” “i’ll be alright.” “no, you won’t! what if you get hurt? what if they shoot at you, huh? i won’t be there underground to make sure you’re okay!” “y/n, i have to serve my country. i have to do this.” “tommy. i’m begging you, don’t do this.” he simply sighed and kissed your forehead and held your face in his hands. you held tightly onto his wrists as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. “shhh, i’ll be alright. in fact, i’ll write you.” you seemed to calm down at the idea of him writing you. at least you’d be updated on his condition.

the morning he went down to the tunnels, he came to see you. you were sorting gauze and bandages when you felt his presence near you. you turned around and ran to hug him. he buried his face in your neck and breathed you in. you could feel tears brimming your eyes. neither of you knew why you felt like this. you were just friends, right? “tommy michael shelby, i swear to god if you die, i’ll kill you myself.” you heard him chuckle. he took a step back and caressed your cheek. “you take care, darling.” you wished he wouldn’t leave, but in your heart, you knew he had to. a few hours after, you found a letter tucked under a book on your desk. you curiously pulled it out and opened it.

dearest y/n,

i know how much you hate that i’m going to be a sapper now. i want you to know, no matter what happens down there, i care for you, and i love you, unconditionally. i’ve loved you since the day i first met you. i can’t believe i was looking for love in whores and prostitutes when the love of my fucking life was saying the sweetest good morning to me every morning. i’ll protect myself, and i want you to protect yourself too since i can’t do that for the time being. if we survive this wretched war, i want to take you home, ask your father for your hand and marry you, sweetheart. you take care of yourself, alright?

all my love,

tommy shelby.

you couldn’t help but gasp at what you read. he loved you. tommy shelby loved you. the same tommy shelby that was too arrogant to say a word to you, the same tommy shelby that your parents told you to stay away from, the same tommy shelby was head over heels for you. you immediately looked for a piece of paper, a pen and some ink. you wrote a letter back and sent it with one of the workers heading down to the tunnels. you didn’t know what it was like down there, but you hoped your letters would keep him sane. meanwhile, tommy received your letter and opened it with the same enthusiasm you showed his letter. however, he was also filled with nervous energy. he had confessed his love for you, which was so incredibly out of character for him, but with shaky hands, he proceeded to open the letter.

dearest tommy,

to say that your letter was shocking would be an understatement. i never knew you felt this way for me. like i’ve told you on several occasions, my parents always told me to stay away from ‘your kind’ and as a good catholic girl, i obeyed them. but tommy, in these few months, i’ve seen a side of you i can’t ever forget. i love you too tommy, the real you. the honest, raw, genuine tommy that i get to see on late nights and in random moments on busy days. i’d love to marry you, just make it out alive of that damn tunnel, you prick.

only yours,

y/n.

tommy felt his eyes welling up as he read the words you had penned on the paper. it had been so long since he’d seen you, or heard your voice. he wanted you. he needed you. to keep him stable and sane. as the days passed, your and tommy’s letter exchange became more and more frequent, and you felt like even if you were in this goddamned lawless land of blood and chaos, you had tommy. and he was all you needed.

that was, until the letters slowed down. you kept writing him, but to no avail. he hadn’t sent you a letter in days, or weeks, you weren’t sure anymore. you’d almost lost hope, and spent entire nights grieving him. trying to remember the sound of his voice, the feeling of his hands on your waist, the smell of his cologne. you hadn’t heard his breath or felt his footsteps in a long time. the pain was almost unbearable, and some days felt like decades. but the only thought that kept you going was that you saw tommy in all the wounded soldiers you treated. they were someone’s tommy. and they needed to get home alive.

4 months. 4 whole months since you heard from tommy. you were convinced he was dead now. you spent your days bandaging and stitching wounds, yet you could never fix the wound tommy left in your heart. it was one of the hottest afternoons, the french sun blazing unmercifully. you were insanely busy with patients today, the war was almost ending, and the soldiers needed to be fixed up before they could go home. yet, no sign of tommy. you sighed, cursing yourself for holding out hope now for someone who would not return.

“can i have a nurse here?” you could recognize that damn voice anywhere. the deep voice that filled your ears, smooth like honey, you’d recognize that voice at the end of the world. you turned around. tommy. “hi, love.” he smiled. but his smile quickly changed into a frown when he saw your sobs. you took him to a quieter corner of the tent. you stepped closer to him. he went to put his arms around you. you slapped him across the face. “where. the FUCK were you, thomas michael shelby?!” he was incredibly confused. “l- love, what?” “i thought YOU DIED, YOU BASTARD. where were you?” the time you spent apart had changed you, and from his response, you could tell it clearly changed him. “i was TRYING to fucking STAY ALIVE for YOU.” he raised his voice at you. he never raised his voice. neither of you spoke for a while and tension filled the air between the two of you. “i should leave.” he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. he left, and you let him.

after a few weeks, news broke that britain had won the war, and everyone went home. five years had passed since you last saw the familiar streets of small heath, and you were no longer a girl, but a woman. a woman who needed to get a job to survive in this city. you walked around and saw a flyer on the doors of the garrison. ‘BARMAID NEEDED.’ you walked in to find harry. he looked up pleasantly surprised. “y/n! haven’t seen you in a while, eh? what can i do you for?” “i’m here to get the barmaid job, harry.” he sighed.” y/n, this job isn’t suitable for a girl like you. these men, they’ve just come back from war, they haven’t seen a girl, let alone a pretty one like yourself, in ages. they’ll have you up against a wall within the first hour of your shift.” you looked at him desperately. “harry, please. i need this job, otherwise i’ll be out on the streets, which are surely worse than this pub. i was a nurse in france, i’ve dealt with these men. please?” he sighed again before nodding. “alright then, you start tomorrow.”

your first shift consisted of the usual alcoholics, men with ptsd, everything that was to be expected after a war. you hear the bells at the door ring as the familiar footsteps walk closer to the bar. without turning around, you ask, “what do you want?” he replies, “whiskey, scotc- y/n?” you finally turn around at the sound of your name falling from his lips. “yes, mr. shelby. so, scotch? on the house right?” he leans over so that just the two of you can hear. “don’t mr. shelby me. come on, love, talk to me.” “i have nothing to talk to you about.” as you poured him a glass of whiskey, he held your wrist assertively. “y/n. come.” you rolled your eyes and went to the shelby’s private booth. “what is it that you want, tommy?” “what the fuck do you mean ‘what do i want’? you, i want YOU. i need you. did ya lose your fucking mind in france like danny whiz-bang?” you felt your bottom lip trembling and your throat choking up. “i… i thought y- you were fucking dead. i mourned you. for MONTHS. i grieved over the death of the love of my life. of my future husband. of my future children that i’d have with him. and then, just as i’m making my peace with it, YOU have the fucking audacity to show up? you have some bloody nerve, tommy shelby.” the look in his eyes softened as he took a step closer to you. “no. don’t you dare come any closer to me, tommy, i’ll kill you.” you said, holding up the bottle of whiskey as a weapon. he embraced you, holding you tightly, his fingers stroking your hair. you resisted the hug and tried to push him away, only to find his grip on you getting tighter. “g- get away… from me, p- please… i- just” your voice came out muffled between sobs. tommy felt hot tears rolling down his own cheeks. “shhh, sweetheart. i’m okay, eh? i’m fine. i’m here, with you.” you dropped the bottle you were holding and it shattered into a million pieces on the ground. you stood there in his arms, crying for what felt like an eternity. you finally pulled away from him, and he wiped your tears with his thumbs. you laughed, but then lightly slapped his arm. “you scare me like that again, tommy, i swear i’ll kill ya.” “i’ll hold you to it, sweetheart.” he kissed your forehead, and you rested your forehead against his. he tentatively closed the gap between your lips and his, and you pulled him by the collar and kissed him with enough force to make him trip and fall. he managed to stay steady and kissed you back with equal fervour. he spoke between kisses. “i *kiss* spent *kiss* every *kiss* second *kiss* thinking *kiss* of you.” you giggled. “i missed you too, tommy.”

he told harry that you’d be leaving the bar early that day, and dragged you out the bar while holding your hand, a smile on his face for the first time in a long time. “the great thomas shelby isn’t embarrassed to have a barmaid as his girlfriend?” you giggled. “never. and those who think i should be embarrassed can suck me cock.” he spoke proudly. he opened the car door for you, and you sat inside and waited for him to turn the ignition on. “where are we going, tommy?” “i want you to meet my family, love.” during the countless hours you spent together chatting, he told you about his family’s idiosyncrasies and stories about them. how arthur needed to be protected the most during fights because he was just as likely to hurt himself as he was to hurt someone else, how aunty pol’s instincts about love were never wrong, how john once fell in love with a prostitute and everyone laughed at him, how ada was the most rebellious and married a communist (who happened to be in of his best mates), and how finn always pretended to act like tommy, doing whatever his big brother did. you were excited to meet them of course, but anxious. they would be your family one day too.

he held your hand as he brought you in, everyone sitting around a table waiting for him. “does everyone just sit together like this?” you asked. “uh, no i called a family meeting for 3 pm.” tommy replied simply. “how did you know you’d be able to have me here by 3?” he winked at you. “i have my ways. and i know how much you love me.” he spoke in a singsong voice. you rolled your eyes at his schoolboy behaviour and waited for him to speak. “shelby’s, this is my girlfriend and soon to be fiancé, y/n.” he held his arm around your waist proudly, and you leaned up to kiss his cheek. you recognized arthur and john immediately from your time in the war. you assumed that the older woman was aunt polly, and the younger with the baby in her arms would be ada, leaving the youngest member of the family, finn. john came up to talk to you first, while tommy spoke with polly. “you know i didn’t really mean the ‘marry tommy’ thing?” you laughed as you replied, “i didn’t either, but fate works in weird ways, eh?” he agreed with you before talking to tommy. arthur was the next one to see you. “you and tommy, eh? if it wasn’t for the war, you two would probably never have met. i s’pose war isn’t all bad then.” “perhaps you’re right. i did find your brother to be arrogant before the war.” “that he is, y/n. that he is.” both of you looked over at him, engaged in conversation with everyone else. you fussed over the baby in ada’s arms. “awww, he’s precious! what’s his name?” “karl, after karl marx.” you shot her a look. “it’s unconventional, i know. but freddie really wanted it.” “it’s lovely.” finn rushed over to you and kissed your hand. you gushed exaggeratedly. “what a gentleman you are, finn!” “if tommy wasn’t here, you’d be my girlfriend, miss y/n.” you laughed at his childishness and ruffled his hair. “sure i would, finn.” the only person you hadn’t spoken to yet was aunt polly, arguably the most intimidating person of the family. “i have one question for you, y/n. how you answer it will determine if you’re fit for being a shelby. how do you think i kept this business up and running during the war?” you felt put on the spot but tried your best to answer. “um, well, to be quite frank, i’ve believed that women are better at business anyway. we know how to settle deals with whiskey and not fists or guns. and you seem like twice the man than most men i know anyway.” her lips twitched up into a smile as she looked to tommy. “oh, i like her already.” he held your hand in hers, and addressed tommy. “she seems like a lovely girl, do not fuck this up tommy.” tommy shook his head and laughed. “i’ll try, pol. i’ll try.”

you ate dinner with the shelby’s before you headed up to his house. “you sure you don’t want me to walk you home?” he asked for the hundredth time that night. “no tommy, i’m perfectly content spending the night with you. unless you’d like me to leave?” you questioned. “no no, stay, please!” he said, almost pleadingly. you looked around his bedroom when you reached his home. it was obviously a house, but it didn’t feel like a home. you frowned at your observation. “what’s wrong, y/n?” “this house isn’t a home yet, tommy.” “that’s because i want my first home to be with you. with our children. and as far as i’m concerned, you are my home.”

“care to dance?” he asked, holding out his hand. you looked at the gramophone in the corner. “that doesn’t look like it works, love.” you placed your hand in his. “so what? we can dance without music.” he said, holding your waist close to him, your hand on his shoulder. you leaned your head on his shoulder, both of you dancing in the silence, listening to the sound of each other’s breathing. “kiss me, tommy.” you whispered. he obeyed probably for the first time in his life and kissed your soft lips.

things escalated and you were now on tommy’s bed, tracing the sun tattoo on his chest, with him on top of you. “fuck me, tommy, please.” “your cunt wants this cock?” he growled. you moaned in his ear. “fuck, yes tommy, make me yours.” he stretched you out in the most blissful way. of course, you had used your fingers before, but nothing could replace the feeling of his cock. “god, please!” you moaned out, words slowly turning into incoherent sounds. tommy chuckled. “god can’t hear you now, sweetheart. not here.” he pistoned his hips into you just right and it wasn’t long before he found the spot inside you that made you scream. “t- tommy fuck! right there, please don’t stop!” “i wouldn’t dream of stopping, darling. my girl, so pretty all spread out for me. take it, love. take that cock.” the feeling of your impending orgasm coursed through your entire body, making you writhe in pleasure. “god, i’m so close tommy!” “good fucking girl.” his hand reached down to rub circles on your clit while he fucked you so good. “oh god, tommy, i’m not gonna be able to walk tomorrow…” “that’s the plan, sweetheart.” he spoke as he kissed hickeys on your neck, matching the ones you’d given him earlier. “come on love, make a mess on my cock.” as soon as he said that, you felt yourself falling apart, the tight band in your stomach snapping, uncontrollable moans of his name falling from your lips. “thank you tommy, thank you so much.” you moaned, drunk on the feeling of his cock inside you. “such an angel. who do you belong to, sweets?” he said, still pounding your cunt. “y- you, tommy. i belong to you!” “that’s right, sweetheart.” he whispered in your ear, “i love you, darling.” you moaned as you felt your second orgasm approaching. “tommy, fuck! i- i love you too!” “god i’m gonna cum inside you! you’d like that, eh? me getting you pregnant, all nice and round with my baby?” you felt your orgasm pulsing through you at his words. “yes, tommy! fill my womb up, please! i need it!” you heard tommy’s loud moans as he came inside you. “oh, such a good girl. took my cock so well, love.” tommy stayed on top of you for a while, his cock still inside you. “i’ve wanted to do that for five fucking years.” he spoke, voice muffled since his head was buried between your tits. you laughed, but the laughs quickly turned to moans as your sensitive cunt felt friction from tommy’s cock rubbing up against its walls. he pulled out of you slowly, watching his seed spill out of you. he eventually got up to get a warm washcloth and a glass of water for you. you drank the water as he cleaned you and himself up and pulled you into his chest. you pulled the covers over both of you, feeling your body flush against his. “that was amazing tommy, thank you.” “the pleasure is all mine, sweetheart.” he kissed your forehead.

ever since tommy came back from france, he had these recurring nightmares every night. of his time in the tunnels. the germans. his comrades. how he had to kill people with his bare hands. he could still hear the shovels digging the tunnels when he closed his eyes. when he was with you though, he could finally fall asleep. or so he thought.

you were awoken in the middle of the night by the sounds of a gasping tommy, suddenly sitting up. you felt groggy for a moment, having just woken up, but quickly sprung into action. you sat next to him, rubbing his back. “tommy, what’s wrong?” he didn’t speak. but he didn’t need to. you’d seen enough cases of ptsd from your time in the war to know what was happening to him. “you still see it, eh?” he only nodded. you laid back down and pulled him into your chest. he protested. “what are y-” “shut up.” you could tell, he was still a bit frantic, his breath still heavy. you spoke to him in a soft tone and you played with his fingers, his head on your chest. “listen to me. listen to the sound of my voice. feel my body against yours. you are home. you are safe. the war is over. the nightmares are just parts of your mind trying to scare you. but you’re stronger than that, eh? i’m here with you, and you don’t need to be scared. alright? i’m here with you, always.” he hummed, heavy eyelids slowly closing shut. being able to smell the scent of your perfume helped ground him. “good job, tommy. now sleep. i’ll be here with you when you wake up.” you managed to get him to go to sleep, but somehow convinced your mind to let you sleep light enough that if tommy were to have another nightmare, you’d be up immediately. fortunately, he didn’t wake up during the night.

he woke up to the sight of a sleeping you, the sun rays hitting you just right. he swore he could look at you forever. you felt his gaze on you and slowly opened your eyes. “how’d you sleep?” you asked. “like i hadn’t slept in years.” he replied.

“morning, mr. shelby.” you wished him, as you did, every day before the war. except this time, you were in his arms, in his bed. you kissed his lips softly. except this time, he finally wished you back.

“mornin’, sweetheart.��

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intheholler · 4 months ago

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brought up in the rolling hills of greater appalachia, there were scarce times, there were good times, and there were rough times. just like anywhere else. but at all times there was hope and community, no matter the circumstance.

as many negative things as i hear about the place i live and as many experiences i have had that align with such criticisms, there were a thousand more instances where i was blessed with an enchanting, community enriched childhood. i will never forget or under-appreciate the closeness of neighbors despite our long lengths from one another.

what i mean to say is, appalachia, they could never make me hate you.

my Daddy is a pastor and my Mama the most down to earth pastor’s wife to walk this sweet, dark-soiled land we are so blessed to live on. even though my father and i don’t always get along, my mother and i are and will forever be the most kindred of spirits. through her wit, her will, and her wisdom, many traditions of appalachia have been passed down to me.

your porch ceiling best be haint blue, and you had better never close another person’s pocket knife. always gift a hand-quilted or crocheted blanket at every baby shower you ever attend. sprinkling salt at every doorway while squeaking out a hushed and hastened prayer for protection.

even those are just a few traditions that i can credit to my culture and my mother who instilled it in me. and that installation is so incredibly important. so as not to lose our rich, beautiful, and complex history.

the first rumblings, the soft spot

an important experience that i would argue helps many appalachian children to realize their culture and heritage is when they, for the first time, listen in to the kitchen talk among cousins. how Papaw can’t read so well because he never got to finish up school and why Uncle Rick got this new job manufacturing cars. how Meemaw lost her baby to scarlett fever and how Miss Deretta down the road worked at the children’s home where your cousin Thomas got dropped off in a cardboard box after a flood that demolished the apartments uptown. slowly, piece by piece, your young mind starts to understand the ebb and flow of unspoken community support. the gentle hand holding taking place through the entire mountain range. the interwoven families that aren’t any kin.

running interference

as you grow up, unfortunately, the world seeps in, slow and clever as a fox in the hen house. making your own out to be some sort of gnawing hillbilly that don’t know their ass from grass. and suddenly when someone asks where you’re from you’re ashamed to admit it. the only thing that you and friends talk about is getting out and seeing new places, away from the parents and the gossip pew of your respective churches. on friday night you all meet up in the Dollar General parking lot and carpool to your school’s football game so that you can shout wildly inappropriate cheers at the rival of the night from the student section. you run into Mrs Connor while washing your hands in the restrooms behind the stadium and when she tells you vibrant stories of your Pa in high school, skipping for deer hunting season along with half of the class of ‘68, you appreciate her. and you don’t know it, but every interaction like that, grows your mountain heart bigger, making more room for story after story.

one of my friends is now engaged to the man who was their starting quarterback. the two of them are the sweetest of couples. the world is perfectly small here.

weeks-long revival and a singing every night

after an innocent turned passionate kiss in your church crush’s car, you find space on the pew with the rest of your youth group, leaving room for jesus, of course. Aneoumes (an-nay-mus, unique name, i know) the church Dulcimer player brings out his fine jnstrument with Mrs Dorothy, the pianist and the previously mentioned Mrs Connor on the organ to do their own mesmerizing renditions of When the Roll is Called up Yonder, I’ll Fly Away, The Gloryland Way, Mansion Over the Hilltop, He Set me Free, Heaven’s Jubilee, and the baptist favorite, Amazing Grace making for a beautiful night of harmony among voices. anymore you weren’t sure what you believed (not that you dared to tell a soul, or even say it out loud) but you knew good and well that church brought people together and helped those in need, and both of those were things you could get on board with. of course the politics were messy, but you could mostly keep your lips sealed. your home church certainly did more to feed the hungry than the government officials who were supposedly all libbed up, or at least that is what they’d pushed.

suddenly, this place didn’t seem so bad. you were worn smack out but only because of the late company, which you certainly didn’t mind in exchange for a typical night of hot, early sleep. when you got home Todd Lee your neighbor was still cutting hay and so the putputput of his tractor lulled you off to sleep. he told you “it keeps the sugar in, seeing’s that it’s nice and cool out in the dark” he had told you when you let him know that his lively tractor sounds put you at peace every night.

something about this place felt more special, fonder, than what you had understood in your younger teen years.

the first leaving

your dad received a stimulus check during the pandemic and decided to go visit his aunt Barbara on the northeast coast. being away from home a whole week felt like a pig being gutted and packed, still warm in the patties. it was awful. every night you cried, holding your younger siblings who did the same, no one here smiled or talked to you and the rain didn’t smell right, the food was bland and blended all together in taste, worst of all there was nowhere to be that wasn’t covered in concrete and where there was, you had to pay for access. when the mountains finally came back into sight, your heart leaped and tears fell from your eyes. that moment was as close to divine intervention as you’d felt since your baptism. gratitude overwhelmed your senses and you thanked jesus for being born where you were. where people were friendly and food was good and friends were close and everything was wide open.

for a moment you wondered if when David wrote “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures. He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul.” if he too was experiencing the peace of returning home after a tumultuous time away.

the second leaving and the enthusiastic return

now, you’re headed off to college. it grips at your heart that you won’t be with the supportive community around you that you’ve always had. but this time the leaving makes sense. you’ll educate yourself on how to teach and help others, you’ll take extra, unnecessary classes on heritage and both cultural and natural history. upon your return you get to take all that hurt from being away and pour back into the place that has loved you so well. and you get to be the next generation to tell your own kiddos to keep the haints from their houses and their hands to the knives in their own pockets.

hopefully your loving will look a bit different, cast a wider net so that those kids who weren’t as lucky as you feel accepted in the community of people around them.

most importantly when you return with your degree and your license to teach, you can instill pride in those children, let them know that these lush hills and woods and creeks and mountains they call home really are some of the most wonderful places this world has to offer up. encourage them to believe that professional speaking is not removed from their dialect but rather in their clarity of conveyance. uplift the idea that time spent with family and friends, neighbors and strangers alike is to be valued. and most importantly in my book, teach them to appreciate the stories they are told, to remember them whether mentally or by doing some manual record keeping. our stories are our testaments to the fulfilling life that can be lived here. and the stories of our neighbor may have a great impact in our thinking.

what i’m trying to say is, appalachia, they could never make me hate you.

(i got totally carried away, sorry it’s so long)

#love letters to appalachia #i was crying so hard reading this i had to keep stopping cause i couldnt see HA #lord almighty #i have so much to say because i felt nearly every word of this but i dont even know where to begin #thank you for getting carried away actually. please dont apologize #appalachia they could never make me hate you <3 #fav #appalachia #appalachian culture #asks

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imtryingbuck · 1 year ago

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Strange stranger

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Strange stranger

Summary: A strange woman catches the attention of Bucky

Word count: 960

Warnings: A duck is killed but not descripted other than that nothing

Masterlist

Day after day Bucky notices the woman who sits on the bench near the pond, she always has a little basket placed next to her, sometimes she swings her legs back and forth, sometimes she sits cross legged - just like today.

He finds her strange and ever so beautiful. Due to his super hearing, he can hear her talking to the ducks and swans then putting on a different voice when she answers herself. He will hear her sing ever so softly to herself sometimes. The strange stranger smiles at the strangers going past her, when she doesn’t receive one back she pulls a face at them, the faces she pulls always makes Bucky laugh.

Day after day Bucky’s curiosity about the strange girl grows more intense. And there’s this itch inside of him that wants to talk to her, but he doesn’t know how. Should he just go over and sit on the bench and hope she’ll talk to him? Should he just walk by her and say ‘hi’ - that should get the ball rolling right? It’s been roughly 6 months since he first saw her that sunshiny Tuesday morning. For 6 months he sees her everyday - unless he’s on a mission - and he yearns to talk to her, know her name.

~~~

It’s been 8 days since he saw her, he’s been on a mission. A mission he wished didn’t take 8 long excruciating days, he found himself lost in his own thoughts just thinking about her - wondering about what conversation she’d be having with the ducks and swans, wondering how many people gave her a smile after she gave them one first.

On the ninth day he was up and out early already making his way to the park, he heads straight to where the pond and the strange girl sits. His heart stutters when he looks around the area and sees her usual bench empty.

“Looking for the girl?” A rough voice says from behind him - turning to see Malcom, another regular at the pond - when he nods, Malcom nods his head in the direction of the small wood area “She’s in there. It was a sad day for her yesterday.”

“W-what happened?”

“Something bad, just go over and see her. I’ll see you tomorrow my friend.”

Bucky nods and waves as his feet take him to the location where Malcom said she would be. As he makes his way through the bushes he sees the back of her, kneeling on the ground, he clears his throat making the woman on her knees turn her head.

“You scared me Mr leather” she shoots him a small sad smile. He hates it. The only smile he has ever seen on her beautiful face is the one of happiness.

“I’m sorry. And Mr leather?” His eyebrow cocks up.

“I don’t know your name and you’re always wearing that leather jacket” wiping the soil off her hands on her jeans “I didn’t know Malcom’s name for a very long time, so I called him Mr Moustache - you know because of his moustache?” Her hands gesturing to her mouth.

“Oh”��oh really Bucky? “Malcom said something bad happened. Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“Something bad did happen Mr leather. I was here yesterday, and I was feeding the duckies and swans when this man came over who I’ve never seen before and grabbed one of the duckies and-and he killed him. Right in front of me. There was no need for it mr, no need. Mr Green didn’t deserve it he was so nice” The look of pure heartbreak is written all over her face, the tears that roll down her cheeks breaks his heart. How on earth anyone could harm or kill an innocent duck leaves him completely baffled. And the fact that she had named this duck made him angrier than he already was.

“And I haven’t seen you in a long time and i was sad because I thought you had gone to the other park that apparently is better than this one and then what happened to Mr Green and the police didn’t do anything because the man ran off and I just finished making the cross for Mr Greens grave, see. Malcom helped me dig the hole yesterday. Mr Green would have liked you to of been at his funeral but he would understand if you prefer the other park now” For 6 months he truly believed she never noticed him yet she had, she had given him a bizarre name but a name nonetheless, she was even sad about not seeing him for just over a week. She really thought he had gone to a different park and that’s why he wasn’t there, he wasn’t there’s to protect her and Mr Green from this sicko. He should have been there.

“Doll I am sorry I wasn’t there, I had to work. I’m so sorry about what happened to Mr Green, I should have been there to of stopped it” Stepping closer he knelt next to her to get a better look at the cross she had made “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for his funeral”.

“It’s not your fault. You don’t have to be sorry mr leat-“

“It’s Bucky, my names Bucky.”

“Bucky” hearing her trying his name makes his pulse quicken.

“I’m Y/n”

~~~

Months have passed, the strange girl became a good friend of Bucky’s. Today like everyday for the past few months they’re sitting on the bench watching the ducklings play.

“Y/n I was wond-wondering if you maybe would like to go on a date…. with me?”

“I would love too.”

“Thankyou”

“Don’t need to thank me Mr Leather.”

“Ah funny”

~ banners credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

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toodleoorblx · 23 days ago

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Heliotropes

Rio Vidal x Agatha Harkness Word count: 2,464

Summary: Agatha allows Nicky to go to a nearby flower patch. Only if she comes with. Who waits for them there kick starts something that Agatha never thought could be possible again. (Chapter 1 - /5) Warnings: Angst with hope A/N: Fixing up Marvels Agatha All Along episode bc Marvel sometimes sucks :(

Chapter 1: A bouquet of flowers

Agatha sits with her back pressed firmly against the damp, knotted bark of an ancient oak. The earth beneath her is soft from the morning rain, fragrant with the heady smell of wet grass and leaves that feel cold and alive against her skin. She pulls in a deep breath, savoring the air thick with rain’s echo, while her fingers tenderly stroke her son’s long, brown hair. Nicholas’s head rests on her lap, his small face upturned to the canopy of branches above, though he’s not looking at anything in particular—he’s deep in thought, his young mind a quiet mystery to her.

His small hands clutch a dandelion he plucked during one of his rambles, its yellow petals bright even in the soft light of the fading day. Agatha’s lips tighten as she watches him. Unless they’re hunting witches together, unless she can track his every step, she hates when he’s out of sight.

��Nicky,” she says softly, her voice almost swallowed by the stillness of the forest. She’s caught, as always, by the sight of him—those wide brown eyes, full of something that feels so much older than five years, the faint lines of a smile lingering on his lips, the long hair that falls over his brow. His fingers worry at the dandelion as he turns toward her, drawn by her voice.

“Yes, Mama?” he answers, his tone so innocent it tugs at her heart. Yesterday had been his birthday. Five years. Another year gifted to her, another reprieve from the silent, eternal fears that steal her sleep. She wakes some nights in a sweat, clutching at empty air, her throat hoarse from cries she can never remember. Each year she pleads silently for just one more, and each year, mercifully, he remains her own. Nicholas smiles up at her, his eyes soft, and Agatha finds herself smiling back, her fears dissolving under his gaze.

She tucks a loose strand of his hair behind his ear, her thumb brushing his cheek. “You seem especially bored today,” she murmurs.

He shrugs, shifting slightly in her lap. “I want to go to the flower patch, Mama.” His face lights up with a grin, the bright, innocent gleam in his eyes so fierce it makes her chest ache. “The colors will be even brighter after the rain. Can I, please? I promise I’ll stay there. And I won’t even complain if you must kill more witches soon,” he adds, his voice hopeful, even cheeky, as he tries to make his promise sound grand enough to earn her permission. His brown eyes gleam, wide and pleading.

Agatha sighs, torn as always between her fierce protectiveness and her inability to deny him anything when he looks at her like that. “Okay, Nicky. But I’m coming with you.”

The delight on his face is instant, a flash of pure, unfiltered joy that squeezes her heart. “Thank you, Mama!” He throws his arms around her, squeezing her in a hug that leaves her breathless, and plants a quick, sticky kiss on her cheek before scrambling up to his feet, his small figure already bouncing with excitement.

“Stay close,” she warns as she stands, brushing the damp soil from her skirts.

“Slow down, Nicky,” she calls as he begins to dart toward the trail leading to the flower patch. But he’s already laughing, sprinting ahead of her, the sound of his carefree laughter mingling with the rustle of wet leaves as he races to the field they passed only yesterday.

Nicholas stumbles into the field, and it’s as if he’s stepped into a living painting. The flowers sway gently in the lingering cool of the afternoon, each petal a wash of color made all the richer by the earlier rain. Roses unfurl in proud reds and pinks, tulips stand tall in bursts of yellow and purple, and delicate hyacinths scatter their pastel hues. His small fingers reach out, brushing over the softness of a lily. There’s a moment, like the whole world has hushed just for him, where Nicholas feels entirely entranced. He thinks of his mother, of her stern but loving face, and a warm resolve settles in him: he’ll make her a gift.

He kneels before the lilies, carefully plucking the stems with tiny, meticulous fingers, trying not to bruise the petals.

“Nicky?”

The voice, soft but unfamiliar, slices through the stillness, and Nicholas startles, dropping the lilies as he whips around. Standing before him is a woman, a stranger, yet not entirely unfamiliar. She’s tan like him, with skin that seems to soak up the golden hues of the sun, and her large brown eyes mirror his own—warm, curious, carrying an expression of knowing that unsettles him in some way he can’t place. Her dark hair tumbles freely over her shoulders, and a green cloak shrouds her, though her hood is pulled down, leaving her face visible. She smiles warmly, and for a moment, Nicholas finds himself smiling back, charmed by the dimples that appear on her cheeks.

It’s strange, though. Her smile feels so familiar, as though he’s seen it in a dream, or perhaps in a face he only vaguely remembers.

“Who are you?” he asks, tilting his head with the same curiosity mirrored in her gaze.

She doesn’t answer right away, instead watching him with a look that’s almost…wistful. Like she’s savoring the moment in silence, drinking in his presence as though she’s waited a long time to stand before him.

“Someone,” she says finally, her voice low and soft, almost a murmur. “Someone I wish you already knew.”

He frowns, little brows pulling together in confusion. “How do you know my name?” he asks, his fingers tightening around the stems of the flowers he’s gathered.

She kneels down beside him, and he notices the scent she carries—a mix of herbs and damp earth that reminds him of late nights in his mother’s arms, the gentle murmur of lullabies. “How could I not?” she replies, a strange smile playing at her lips. “You’re very special.”

Nicholas bites his lip, wary but fascinated. “Are you…are you a friend of my mama’s?”

For a brief moment, her smile falters, and her gaze drops to the lush green ground as though she’s searching for something buried in the earth. “You could say that,” she murmurs, her voice nearly a whisper. “I used to be very, very close to her. Once upon a time.”

Nicholas tilts his head, studying her face, but her expression remains unfathomable. “You’re not anymore?” he asks, his voice soft, carrying an innocence that seems to tug at something deep within her.

She lifts her eyes to meet his, and in that gaze, there’s a quiet intensity, an ache softened by love. “No,” she says simply. “But I still care for her. I still love her.”

He considers her words, his young mind wrapping around them slowly. “Mama doesn’t have many friends,” he says after a moment, his voice filled with the surety of a child who knows his mother’s world far better than he understands his own. “So…I’m glad she had you.”

Her laugh is soft, almost a sigh. She reaches out, briefly brushing her fingers against his, and her touch is light as a petal. “Thank you, Nicky,” she whispers, her voice thick with a warmth and sadness he doesn’t fully understand.

Agatha reaches the edge of the flower patch, her fingers stained with the juice of wild berries she’d found along the way, but when her eyes land on the scene before her, the berries slip from her fingers, forgotten. There, kneeling among the sea of vibrant blossoms, is Nicholas, his arms overflowing with flowers, grinning up at… her. She can’t see the woman’s face, but the shape of her is unmistakable. There’s an aura around her—dark and vast, like a void just waiting to swallow light. Agatha’s blood runs cold, and she’s frozen in place, a wave of pure dread making her limbs feel weak, her breath sharp and shallow.

“Rio,” Agatha whispers, her voice fractured. It’s like speaking a name that’s only ever lived in her nightmares, one she’s tried to bury a hundred times.

Both Rio and Nicholas turn at the sound of her voice. Nicholas beams up at her with a bright, innocent smile, his arms wrapped around the flowers he’s picked. Rio, on the other hand, looks up slowly, her face calm, yet her gaze heavy and unreadable.

“Mama! You didn’t tell me your old friend would be here,” Nicholas says with the simple enthusiasm of a child, oblivious to the heavy silence that hangs between the two women. He holds up the flowers proudly, his cheeks flushed.

Agatha cant speak. Their resemblance. Nicky is the spitting image of Rio. She hadn't seen it before, but now that they kneel side by side… It makes her want to scream and smile. Of course, she had seen similarities, personality wise, and power wise. Nicky is witty and kind, he has a passion for nature and wildlife that just cannot originate from her alone, and a few weeks ago, he resurrected a dying baby bird. All on his own. At four years old.

That day hadn't left her mind as of late. Who knows what he will be able to do by that time… Oh.

Death is inevitable, not even love can stop it.

Her chest tightens, and she feels the wet warmth of tears sliding down her cheeks. She knows, with sickening certainty, why Rio has come.

“No,” she chokes, her voice trembling as she drops to her knees. “No, no, no, please, Rio—” The words come out broken, desperate, each syllable frayed and raw. “Please… not my baby.”

Rio rises, her eyes holding Agatha’s with a sadness that’s both deep and unfathomable. Nicholas watches her from where he’s seated, his own expression shadowed by confusion. He watches his mother cry, his gaze darting between her and Rio, trying to make sense of it all.

“Our baby,” Rio says, her voice firm but soft, her gaze unwavering as she steps closer to Agatha. “He’s mine too, Agatha. Whether you choose to see it that way or not.”

Agatha can only shake her head, her heart a frantic, pounding ache against her ribcage. “Please,” she whispers, her voice hollow, breaking in her throat. “Please, Rio, give me more time… I-I’ll do anything. Just please, don’t take him.” Her head bows, forehead falling against Rio’s shoulder, her hand clutching at the fabric of her cloak as though holding on could somehow keep her whole.

Rio sighs, and after a moment’s hesitation, her hand comes to rest on Agatha’s head, her fingers sliding gently through her hair. Agatha’s breath shudders, her eyes closed, surrendering to the familiar touch that holds so much power over her.

“I want you to want me,” Rio murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. Agatha feels the wetness of a tear slipping onto her forehead as Rio’s head bows over her, though the sky is clear above them, and no rain falls from it. “But I know I can’t ask that of you. And I’m not here to take him from you.”

Agatha’s breath stutters, sharp and quick, as she lifts her head from Rio’s shoulder. Her brow knits in confusion, still thick with disbelief, and her voice trembles when she speaks. “You’re…not?” Her eyes search Rio’s face, every flicker of movement, every small line of sorrow etched into her expression. But Rio only shakes her head, a slow, quiet gesture that’s as gentle as it is heartbreaking.

“Then…why are you here?” Agatha’s voice is barely more than a whisper, each word laced with fear and hope mingling together so tightly she feels as though she might unravel.

A tear slips down Rio’s cheek, tracing a path over the skin that’s flushed with emotion she’s tried so hard to hold back. Her dark eyes, so like Nicholas’s, are wide and vulnerable, filled with the kind of pain only love can bring. “Because he’s my child too,” she says, her voice barely holding steady, thin and brittle. “I wanted to see if he looked like me, if he liked the same things as I do…if he was happy.” Her voice cracks, and she takes a shaky breath, her fingers curling around her cloak as she fights to hold her composure. “I wanted to be someone to him, even if…even if that’s not a mother.” She pauses, and the weight of her words hangs between them like the heaviest burden. “I’m not here to take him, Agatha. I’m here to see him. His time isn’t up.”

Agatha stands frozen, her heart pounding so hard she’s certain Rio must hear it. Her mouth falls open, lips quivering as her mind races, torn between disbelief and relief. Tears spill down her cheeks, her body unable to contain the flood of emotions, and she lets out a tiny, broken laugh, shaking her head in amazement. “He…he resurrected a baby bird, you know,” she says weakly, her shoulders slumping as she shrugs, grasping for anything to steady herself. “Just a few weeks ago.”

Rio’s lips curve into a soft, tender smile, the kind of smile that only someone who knows a love so deep it defies logic can give. “I know.” She looks away, almost bashful, though her pride is evident in her eyes. “I didn’t think he’d get any necromancy from me,” she murmurs, a hint of wonder and admiration in her voice.

Agatha’s smile wavers, her lips pressing together in a tremulous line as she struggles to keep her emotions in check. Her gaze softens, her blue eyes glistening with tears, her heart pounding with an overwhelming sense of connection to the woman she’d once loved, the mother of her son. “I…I didn’t think it was possible,” she says, her voice thick, shaking.

A rustle from nearby breaks their moment, and Nicholas stands up, tilting his head with the same curiosity he shares with his mother. His small face is filled with hope and innocent confusion as he watches them, his brown eyes flicking between them, searching for answers. “Are you and my mama friends again?” he asks, his voice light with the straightforwardness only a child could bring to such a moment.

Agatha freezes, her voice caught in her throat, unable to answer as a rush of emotions threatens to swallow her whole. Her eyes glisten as she looks at Nicholas, his small form so much a mirror of the two of them that her heart clenches painfully. But Rio’s expression softens as she looks at him, and she presses her lips together, struggling with her own emotions before finally answering.

“I hope so,” she whispers, a tear slipping down her cheek, though a small smile tugs at her lips.

#marvel #mcu #agatha harkness #rio vidal #agatha harkness x rio vidal #agatha all along #spotify #nicholas scratch #agathario

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greenthena · 1 year ago

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The Eldritch Ball or Aziraphale's Macabre Danse

I'm a huge sucker for dark classical music (I'm using the term "classical" broadly, not referring to the specific period. Music-y folks, please forgive.) As such, Saint-Saëns's "Danse Macabre" is one of my all time favorite pieces. It's spooky. It's intentionally dissonant. It's even got a jump scare! Like, literally, the perfect piece of music.

youtube

The story behind "Danse Macabre" goes like this: Each Halloween at midnight, Death enters the graveyard with a fiddle. As he plays, the skeletons rise from the ground and dance through the cemetery, resurrected by Death's power and possessed by his instrument.

In S2 E3, the Bentley plays "Danse Macabre" as Aziraphale drives up to Edinburgh. "What do we do? We play classical music that stays classical music." (And the Bentley listens to him! Because the Bentley is an expression of Crowley's subconscious and wants to please him and make him happy...and I'm sure you can find lots of excellent metas to that end. Or maybe you have another theory about why the Bentley is so pliant toward the angel? I'd love to hear it. But that's not what I'm talking about right now. I'm just getting distracted.)

Why is this song so perfect for a bit of subtle foreshadowing and repeated metaphor? So glad you asked. I have reasons. And evidence. Please, peruse my wares.

In the A Plot of this episode, Aziraphale travels to Scotland to visit a pub called The Resurrectionist. (Ya know, like Death? Like how Death resurrects people in the song? Okay, just wanted to really hit that nail into the coffin.) The pub is, of course, named for a certain Mr. (not Dr., he's a surgeon) Dalrymple, whom Crowley and Aziraphale meet in the accompanying flashback minisode entitled (you'll never guess) "The Resurrectionist." The minisode plot involves Crowley and his the angel encountering young Elspeth, a grave robber who, like Death, releases the bodies of the deceased from their earthly bonds of soil and stone. My interpretation is that Elspeth becomes Death incarnate, first in the process of using her instrument (her shovel) to resurrect the dead, and later when she inadvertently brings about the literal death of her partner, Wee Morag. Rather than allow Wee Morag's body to turn to dust in the ground, Elspeth "resurrects" her, selling her body to Dr. Dalrymple (sorry, Mr. Dalrymple, he's a surgeon, not a doctor), who will use Wee Morag's body for research, which will in turn save the lives of countless others by furthering the field of medicine. A form of resurrection, indeed. There's also the plot thread of Crowley and Aziraphale providing Elspeth with a nest egg to escape the cycle of poverty into which she has been born. This, too, is another form of re-birth. Or, say it with me, resurrection. Alright, you're getting it now.

Okay, now I get to delve into the fun stuff. Let's talk about that cotillion ball, shall we? You know, that danse party where Aziraphale persuades all the shopkeepers on Whickber street to attend a Jane Austen-style ball?

I personally refer to this whole fiasco experience as the Eldritch Ball. On the surface, it seems fairly innocent. The shopkeepers need a little bit of encouragement to attend the Whickber Street monthly meeting, but the angel manages to convince everyone to join with the help of some coercion-via-bribery. When they show up, they're transmuted into Austen-esque characters, from their clothes, to their speech patterns, even to some extent, their perception of reality. This is where it starts to get a little uncomfortable if you peel back the layers. Mrs. Sandwich can't talk about what she does for a living, which is a great comedy bit, but also demonstrates that her speech is being significantly censored and altered by an outside force. With the exception of Mr. Brown (hidden agendas here, Neil? I honestly don't know), all the shopkeepers find themselves in new, slightly-period-appropriate garments. What's really weird, though, is that no one notices the changes. When the dancing begins, to the music of Mr. Anderson's piano and an accompanying string quartet (strings...as in violins...as in fiddles. Remember Death's fiddle?), Nina appears to be the only one who realizes that something is off.

Maggie: This is something new.

Nina: This is something completely bonkers. Are we...? Why is everyone talking like they've escaped from Pride and Prejudice?

Maggie: Just getting into the spirit of things, I suppose.

Nina: The spirit of what things? This is meant to be the shopkeeper association monthly meeting.

Maggie: Hmm. Yes. Now that you put it like that...

Nina: Are we dancing?

Maggie: Yes.

Nina: Did you ever learn the steps to this dance?

Maggie: It's just what we do, isn't it?

Nina: No. No, it isn't. This is something mad. This is their [Crowley & Azirapahle's] fault. They're doing this.

Something is definitely mad. One might even say it's macabre. Aziraphale has become Death the Resurrectionist. He has lured the shopkeepers of Whickber Street through a portal (as Death leads his flock from the world of the dead to the world of the living.) Aziraphale's instrument is his clipboard and pen, held almost as one might hold a fiddle and bow, as he invites the various shopkeepers to the monthly meeting. Once they all arrive, he miraculously gives them new clothes (as Death knits together the bones of the dead), and then proceeds to control their bodies and minds, as though they are merely marionettes. They dance and speak in the way Aziraphale imagines, fulfilling his fantasy of a perfect Jane Austen-style ball (quite literally, the Danse Macabre.)

The shopkeepers have become the dead and Aziraphale controls them until the spell is broken--or rather until the window is broken.

To be honest, I don't think Aziraphale is really aware of how much he is able to transfigure his environment, including the humans who happen to be close by. Or, at least, I don't believe he does any of this with ill intent. He's just a bit blind to anything outside his fixation of wooing Crowley, at the moment. As a result, he creates a situation that is profoundly problematic and unnatural. Just like the dead in the graveyard have no agency when Death plays his fiddle, the Whickber Street shopkeepers are possessed by Aziraphale's intricate romantic fantasy and must dance as long as the music plays.

It is, in fact, only when the music stops, that the shopkeepers begin to realize that something is most certainly weird. The diagetic music (Mr. Anderson & Co.) abruptly cuts off when an approaching demon horde tosses a brick through the bookshop window. Now the spell, or in this case, miracle, begins to break down. While the shopkeepers still appear to be somewhat under the influence of Aziraphale's persuasive aura, a few of them glance down at their clothes in confusion and look around the bookshop, as though waking from a dream. And at this point, after a little finagling, Crowley escorts the humans out of the bookshop and out of Aziraphale's Danse Macabre.

Once the demons attack the bookshop Aziraphale's influence on his surroundings really starts to deteriorate. Throughout the season, he's been able to structure and manipulate reality (sometimes with Crowley's help) to suit his needs: protecting Gabriel, altering the Bentley, organizing the Ball, etc. But once the bookshop, his safe space, has been breached, he loses control of the situation. From this point in the narrative, nothing goes according to Aziraphale's plan. Aziraphale wants to protect Jimbriel, but the former archangel insists on giving himself over to the demons. Crowley leaves and Aziraphale has to defend the bookshop on his own, when he'd expected Crowley to come right back and save him. While defending the bookshop, Aziraphale reaches his "last" resort not once, but twice: first allowing Nina and Maggie to use his books (!!!) as weapons and then blowing up his halo in a last ditch effort to fend off the invaders. This was not on the agenda for today!

Things just continue to go downhill from there, Aziraphale losing all control of the situation. And by the time the Final Fifteen wraps up, the angel has lost his bookshop and possibly his most important relationship. By the end of the season, Aziraphale is no longer Death the Resurrectionist, the manipulator and puppeteer. Now the angel has become the puppet, dancing to Heaven's music.

#good omens #aziraphale #aziracrow #crowley #go metas #good omens meta #danse macabre #camille saint saëns #the bentley #nina and maggie #eldritch ball #elspeth #wee morag #dark music #Youtube

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odinsblog · 8 months ago

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We Should Say It. Russia Is Fascist.

“It’s not the first time Ukraine has been the object of fascist war. The conquest of the country was Hitler’s main war aim in 1941. Hitler thought that the Soviet Union, which then ruled Ukraine, was a Jewish state: He planned to replace Soviet rule with his own and claim Ukraine’s fertile agricultural soil. The Soviet Union would be starved, and Germany would become an empire. He imagined that this would be easy because the Soviet Union, to his mind, was an artificial creation and the Ukrainians a colonial people.

The similarities to Mr. Putin’s war are striking. The Kremlin defines Ukraine as an artificial state, whose Jewish president proves it cannot be real. After the elimination of a small elite, the thinking goes, the inchoate masses would happily accept Russian dominion. Today it is Russia that is denying Ukrainian food to the world, threatening famine in the global south.”

“… In 1939, the Soviet Union joined Nazi Germany as a de facto ally, and the two powers invaded Poland together. Nazi speeches were reprinted in the Soviet press and Nazi officers admired Soviet efficiency in mass deportations.

But Russians today do not speak of this fact, since memory laws make it a crime to do so. World War II is an element of Mr. Putin’s ahistorical myth of Russian innocence and lost greatness — Russia must enjoy a monopoly on victimhood and on victory. The basic fact that Stalin enabled World War II by allying with Hitler must be unsayable and unthinkable.”

(continue reading)

#politics #ukraine #russia #russian invasion of ukraine #russia is a terrorist state #authoritarian dictatorships #russian colonialism #russian imperialism #neo fascism #russian fascism ☭#vladimir putin is a war criminal

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jeonstellate · 1 year ago

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spaces between us

you never want to cross paths with seungcheol again but, as it seems, the universe has other plans.

๑彡 choi seungcheol x afab!reader

๑彡 secret baby!au, post-break up!au — angst

๑彡 paragraph format — 1K words

masterlist

[gif’s full credit belongs solely to its owner]

๑彡 title is taken from one direction’s spaces (whose lyrics fit the ‘past’ that led to this story, albeit it was not explicitly told here).

๑彡 this is quite impulsive, actually. i was reading through my old fics in my drive a couple days ago && thought i can tweak this one a bit to change the ml . . .

You were surrounded by an enormous amount of cuddly plushies and breakable action figures. Everywhere you looked, your eyes would land on a face you grew up watching. Every single character played an important role in your childhood, whether you admired them or not. As far as your younger self was concerned, you were in heaven.

But then . . . you weren’t.

In the flood came — strong, unwavering, and without any warning.

All you could see was smoky quartz. Dark and light all at once. Akin to whiskey and honey whenever there was an eternal sun shining upon them, addicting and melting you right in. You could hardly believe that there was a time when they were utterly comforting to you, instead of just reminding you of a seemingly endless pain.

You had always appreciated the color brown. It was the color of soil — where life always had a chance to begin. It was the color of cocoa, too — a main ingredient in making the world sweeter. For you specifically, it symbolized a never-ending list of possibilities and opportunities.

Then, there came a time when the color itself signified something else entirely. It promised a happily ever after you never purposely sought, but was granted by the heavens anyway. It promised to cherish and to love you always. It promised you forever, lasting until the end of time. With the hopeless romantic ideologies that surrounded you as you grow, you willingly believed in those promises.

Yet, apparently, forever only last for seven years.

Brown, as rich and magical as it would remain, had its enchantments fade. Promises were broken. Smiles were rare and deceptive. A home gradually turned into a mere flat. A shadow eventually turned into a ghost. Life, once full of animation, had become utterly silent and still. From that moment on, dark crystals signified neglect, abandonment, and . . . regret.

You did not think you would be able to forgive those morions, much less forget. Yet, with time, they began to symbolize hope; a new beginning.

You never meant for it to. But these new dark crystals were so pure . . . so innocent . . . and so full of life. They were everything you thought it would be, if that shade was given humane features. Rather instinctively, just as soon as you caught a glimpse of them for the very first time, you knew you must protect those gorgeous hues from any evil — and so you tried your best.

Despite being an exact replica of the former, you instantly loved the new smoky quartz with all your heart — even more than your own life.

Once the flood had calmed, you found yourself in a situation that you had been dreading for the past few years. You did not expect the inevitable encounter for at least several more years, thus not even the comfort of childhood assisted in composing your racing heart.

"Seungjae." You found it quite difficult to act indifferent around a presence you used to know so well. "Why don’t you explore the princesses’ section? Your Uncle Jonghyeon told me Sarang likes Mulan." It was not like you could blatantly ignore him, either. All you could do was get Seungjae as far away as possible in case a confrontation spark ablaze.

"Okay!" Seungjae was enthusiastic as always, just like any other toddler who never seemed to run out energy. They turned to the man next to them, an appreciative smile on their face, "Bye-bye now, Mr. Seungcheol, thank you!" They then turned back to you, holding out their hand, "Let’s go?"

"I’ll follow you in a minute, love, okay?"

"Okay!" Seungjae remained oblivious on the thickening tension between the two adults. They walked away while dragging a plushie behind them by the ear — somewhat ecstatic to leave and explore on their own.

By the time the toddler was out of earshot, but still within your watchful eyes, you had finally settled on the best way to approach your current situation. "Thank you for helping Seungjae reach that plushie. Heaven knows what stunt they would’ve pulled just to reach it."

"[Nickname]," Seungcheol dismissed your gratitude, almost out of breath, "it’s been four years."

You did not quite appreciate how he easily dismissed your effort to keep your conversation civil, so you decided to quickly put him in his place. "Call me [First name], you lost the right to call me that when we—" You suddenly stopped yourself, realizing that it might catalyze something you were not mentally ready for. So, instead, you opted to redirect your chat in a more civil route, "How’s life treating you, Seungcheol?"

"How old are they?" Once again, he flat-out ignored you. As it seemed, while you were determined not to discuss what happened four years prior, that was the only topic he was interested in. "How— how old is Seungjae?"

You were left with no choice. If you answered, he would know, naturally. If you did not answer, he would still know, anyway. "They’re turning three this summer."

As confident his stance might have been, you watched it crumble in a millisecond after reality hit him with full force. "You should’ve— I should’ve—" When he regained enough of his senses, he seemed to realize that it was not a conversation you should be having in a children’s store. "We should probably talk elsewhere."

However stunned you were in seeing him so broken (something you had not witness in your seven years together), you were quick to dismiss him. "There’s nothing to talk about."

"[Nickname]—" Seungcheol instinctively grabbed onto your wrist when you began to walk away, but quickly dropped his hold when he realized that he might have crossed the line. "[First name]. Please."

You sighed. You did not plan on letting him off the hook easily (not that you thought of anything beforehand, anyway), but the fact that he did not even question the truthfulness of your words — like he still trusted you with all his heart . . . like he just knew that Seungjae could only be half of him — made you second guess your initial decisions.

Maybe . . . just maybe . . . you would spare him from knowing your main reason for departing without a goodbye.

"I already forgave you."

#choi seungcheol x reader #scoups x reader #seventeen x reader #choi seungcheol imagines #scoups imagines #seventeen imagines #choi seungcheol scenarios #scoups scenarios #seventeen scenarios #choi seungcheol oneshots #scoups oneshots #seventeen oneshots #secret baby!au #post-break up!au #choi seungcheol #scoups #seventeen

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desswright29 · 1 year ago

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The Udaku’s (Half Crazy Finale)

Word Count: 11k

Contains: Mentions of blood, Mental illness, Violence, Torture, Gore, The darkest of dark Shuri, Smut (That’s all I can think of)

A/N: Proceed with caution. This story is a Thriller.

3 months ago at Tolu’s

Shuri woke up in a cold sweat, head spinning. The only part of her body that was still under the covers was her left leg, as she lay on her belly. Something felt off. Suddenly, her body began retching as though it was rejecting something. Pain. That’s what was next. A stabbing pain that struck through her core, causing her to let out a sharp gasp, coming up on her hands and knees. She continued retching, followed by a gag, and then a cough. This pattern repeated itself until she felt something easing up her throat, the taste of blood began to permeate her tongue. Her eyes bulged in worry, her bandaged right hand coming up her mouth to prevent any mess on the bed underneath her. It was all she could do. She couldn’t move from the bed, her body was completely occupied with getting rid of whatever was inside of her.

The door flew open and Tolu rushed to Shuri’s side. “What the fuck is happening?!” Shuri couldn’t speak as her coughs, and gags became more aggressive as she felt something glide up her throat. It was closer now. Tolu shook as she froze in fear. A single drop of blood escaped Shuri’s mouth and rolled down her chin. “What the fuck.” She breathed. One last violent cough and heave shook Shuri’s body before she released a small clump of foreign object into her hand. She collapsed to the bed with a groan. To weak to move. Tolu squinted at the grotesque lump in Shuri’s hand something catching her eye. “Shuri. What the fuck is that!”

Shuri with her body still shaken. Slowly opened her groggy eyes. As her vision cleared her eyes landed upon her upright palm. Inside her hand lie a clumps of clotted blood that was surrounded by many very small bits of what appeared to be metal. Shuri’s eyes squinted shivering at the sight.

“What. the fuck. is that…” She whispered

The boy took his horns from the thief, and went on his way. He came to a house, and asked to be entertained. The owner refused, and sent him away, because his clothes were in tatters, and his body soiled with travel.

“Udaku…..MRS. Udaku!”

“Your Majesty.”

“Queen SHURI Udaku! Answer immediately before I find you in contempt of COURT!”

Shuri snapped out of her thoughts, staring out into the courtroom. Her eyes landed on the side of the defendant. There Okoye, and Nakia sat. And in the last seat closes to the aisle there sat Tolu, Sunglasses perched upon her face, a walking stick leaning against her chair. For as long as Shuri had known her, Tolu had always been at her side. Unfortunately, that very loyalty was the cause of her ailment.

Shuri sat upright, unbuttoning her blazer with one hand, before man-spreading and leaning back into the chair on the stand. Her jaw clenched as her right arm rested on the armrest, her thumb underneath her chin, and her pointer resting on her cheek.

“In your countries justice sytem the protocol is innocent until proven guilty, am I correct?” She spoke cool toned, even, yet authoritative. Never could you misconstrue her as weak.

The courtroom was silent as Shuri’s eyes roamed the crowd. The other world leaders sitting around in judgement of her. A smirk slightly raises her left cheek. As she lets out a small menacing laugh.

“Hm. Everyone in this room knows this is a witch hunt. America feels as though it finally has it’s opportunity to take down Wakanda and it’s recourses. You want my people to beg and bargain for the freedom of their leader. If this was about justice, your British counterparts would’ve been extradited years ago for the sex-trafficking ring that we’re all acutely aware of. The Israelis government would be on trail for the several war crimes they’ve been committing since before you all were born. Which is saying a lot since the bulk of you are well into your 60’s. We all know that there are much bigger Fish to fry here. But, You know… What is it that the children say in your country.” She looks around at everyone sitting up a little more in her seat as she looked from person to person. “Ah! Evil twin, Evil twin.”

“Mrs. Udaku! What point are you trying to make here!” Shuri’s head swung in the direction of the voice. Her eyes peircing through the elderly man.

“MY POINT IS! Mr. President… Is that I have not been found guilty. So you will respect my title and position as your worlds leader! My proper title is Queen Shuri Udaku, DAUGHTER of Romonda! The most powerful entity in this room!” Her eyes slowly left the visibly shaken man.

“It is best that you keep that in mind for the duration of this trail.” She relaxed back into her chair, giving her blazer a slight tug. “Now where were we….Double homicide and attempted murder. Eh”

The day it happened

“Ride with me.” Shuri says as she holds the door open for you as you both rush out of the building.

“Shuri, I’m aware of how to get to the palace. My ride is pulling up, and you know I have Teyana with me.” Shuri’s eyes darkened at the mention of her name. “Your little fling is not welcomed in my palace.”

“Shuri, cut the bullshit. She’s coming.” You roll your eyes as the both of your cars pull up to the front of the building. Shuri proceeds to argue with you. Teyana hopped out of the back of the car, her eyes immediately landing on Shuri as she held the door opened for you. Shuri’s face morphed into a glower, her eyelids lowering into slits, her mouth turned up into a scowl. She shot daggers into the woman with her eyes, and surprisingly, the girl didn’t back down. Teyana’s eyes met Shuri’s intense glare and matched it.

“Is there a problem Princess?” The girl spoke. Your heart dropped a bit. Speechless, you turn your attention to Shuri prepared to take action. A flash of shock came over Shuri’s face, before humor. Her beautiful smile lightened her face reaching her eyes. The smile was genuine. And that scared you more than the anger you had expected.

“Teyana huh?” Her voice came out dark and deep. A stark contrast to the smile on her face. Her head shook from side to side as she turned to walk away, not before she pointed in Teyana’s direction shaking her finger. She glanced at you with a glimpse of mischievous in her eyes, sending shivers down your spine, and a pulse to your core. You watch as she walks her walk, like only she can. Her stride strong and regal as she makes her way to her car.

You turn and strut to your own, sliding in, visibly disturbed by Shuri’s reaction. There was something familiar in her eyes that made your stomach churn, but you couldn’t quiet put your finger on it. As soon as Teyana slid into the car and shut the door, you turned to glare at her.

“What?” She turned to you feigning confusion.

“What the fuck was that?!”

“What was what?” Your eyes roll deep into the back of your skull. Frustration rising up into the flesh of your cheeks. “Oh my God! I can’t right now, I can’t with the bullshit!” You sit back blowing out a long exhale from your puffed cheeks.

“Y/n! I’m not a bitch!” You throw your hands up choosing to look out of the window to mask your frustration. “I’m not gonna sit here and let her intimidate me. She started with me. Looking at me like she wanted a problem!” Your head snaps around as you give Shuri an incredulous look.

“She absolutely does want a problem Teyana! This is why I told you not to come! But since you insisted you were supposed to stay at Tolu’s and out of the way! She saw you get out of the car and now, YES! She wants a problem! You’re in HER country, with HER wife! Sit back! Shut up! And make it out safely!”

Teyana chuckles. “Please! My father is friends with the President of the United States. She doesn’t scare me.” Your face becomes as serious as you can manage as you try to get her to heed your warning.

“Right now you are in Wakanda. You should have left that American sense of entitlement back there. Shuri is not just some ex to you while we’re here. She is the Queen. I suggest you keep that in mind.” Teyana, choosing to sit in her stubbornness, rolled her eyes sitting back as they pulled up to the citadel.

Shuri stood waiting, hands crossed and resting infront of her body. The car comes to a stop, and Teyana immediately steps out to open the door for you once again. After you step out of the car the door shuts behind you and Teyana steps up beside you. Shuri raises a brow and you feel the dread spread throughout your body.

“I’m not sure if your master informed you. But, you are not welcomed in my home.” Shuri didn’t move a muscle as she gave Teyana a once over. Teyana puffed out her chest prepared to show Shuri who she was.

“Look, let’s get sumn straight. I don’t give a fuck who you are. Your majesty. You show me some respect. I’ll think about giving it to you. Either way I go where my girl goes.” Teyana took a step up, and Shuri continued to stand in her power, her mouth downturned and eyebrows raised, amused.

“Ooou Fiesty. You must have a thing for that, Sthandwa?” Shuri said, looking your body over before her eyes connected with yours. The intensity behind them sent shockwaves through your body, and you quickly turned your head from her. Shuri Tsked, “Ah, I see why your little friend here has so much to prove. Look at the way your body still reacts to me. Are you sure you know what to do with her Tempnada? All that mouth doesn’t seem to be helpful in the bedroom.” You could see steam come from Teyana’s ears, prepared to say the first thought that came to mind.

“Man fuck you! You orphaned ass cheater!” You suck in a sharp breath. There was no time to think, both you and Shuri stepped forward simultaneously. Your hand darted out instantly halting Shuri mid stride, pressing into the center of her stomach as you try to grab her attention. Your free hand reached up grabbing the side of her face to direct her gaze to yours. But, her eyes remained trained on Teyana. Shuri’s hands gripped your waist. She gently lifted you off of your feet, placing you to the side.

“Shur-“ You were immediately quieted as Shuri tossed a stifling glare in your direction.

“I don’t know why my wife felt the need to bring her riff raff into my presence.” Her stern gaze left yours, her attention now turned back to her target. “More than likely, to make me jealous. And at first it was working. However, the more you speak, the more I see your purpose. It is apparent that you haven’t been informed of the lengths I would go for my troublesome love here.” One more step forward and Shuri was directly over Teyana. “Shuri come on. Stop” You say, fear making your voice tremble, as you walk over once again placing your hand on Shuri’s stomach trying to push her back. A smirk passed over Shuri’s lips, her head tilting to the side.

“Read the room. That’s what you Americans say huh? Notice the safety precaution my thando is making. It is not because she cares so much for you. But, because she knows who I am. Follow suit toy. Or you can breathe the air, and take in the scenery of your last day on earth.” Teyana couldn’t hide the slight tremble in her body and the action brought a smile back to Shuri’s face. “Now if you’ll excuse us. The adults have business to take care of.” Shuri removed your hand from her locking your fingers with hers, bringing the back of your hand to her mouth, placing a gentle kiss there directly in Teyana’s face. Claiming her territory.

Tolu pulled up behind your car just in time. Your grateful eyes falling on her as she stepped out of her car. “Shuri, stop threatening the girl and let’s get to these results!” She yelled as she headed towards the entrance of the citadel. Shuri wrapped her free hand around your waist turning your body and holding you close as you both walked into the building leaving Teyana clenching her teeth.

“You may as well count your losses” Tolu yelled over her shoulder.

Riri Williams

“You’re simply not her…. You’re simply not her…You’re simply not her.”

The words played over and over in Riri’s head as she watched the scene play out from the window of her room. She watched the way you intervened between Shuri and the girl. How even in the midst of Shuri’s pure rage, she found a way to be gentle with you. The way the two of you naturally fell into your roles as wives. She couldn’t understand it. You’d completely disrespected and disregarded Shuri’s feelings by bringing another woman you were involved with into her country. Yet, she was still patient and attentive with you. You’d watched Shuri fucking her, and instead of signing divorce papers and heading back to where you came from. Here you were… back in Shuri’s arms!

“You’re simply not her.”

It sounded in her head once again as she watched Shuri guide you inside by your waist. Rage boiled up inside of Riri like an over flowing pot of water. She turned away from the window knocking over a lamp in her path, snatching her phone up from the coffee table she found the number she was looking for in her phone. After two rings the person picked up.

“Yo.”

“What the fuck am I paying you for!?”

“I’m doing what you paid me for! Shit. I met her, I got her attention, I take her ass out and everything. I got her bring me here. Don’t start shit with me cause your plan ain’t going the way you want!” Teyana’s frustration seeped through the speaker.

“If you were doing what I was paying you for my girlfriend wouldn’t be walking hand in hand with with that bitch!”

“Yo Ri. Not that you’ll listen to me. But you’re buggin’. Those two ain’t lettin’ up. They sprung off each other. Ol’ girl ain’t even lettin’ me hit.”

Riri let’s put an incredulous laugh. “You’re not even fucking her! Fuck this I’ll do it myself. I’m the only one who can get this done the right way!”

Riri hung up the phone. Heading out of the door.

Before all hell broke loose.

The Courtroom

“Queen Shuri…May I ask why did your wife choose not to go through with filing for divorce on the day in question?” Irritation morphed onto Shuri’s face as she gave a nonchalant shrug.

“Because I’m cute.” She said, raising a brow bring her hand up to caress her chin. The man rolled his eyes fed up with Shuri’s blantant detachment for this case. Her being the smartest individual the world has ever seen let him know that she was aware of the seriousness of the charges brought against her. But all morning she’d used this courtroom as her personal play ground, simply for her enjoyment.

“You are under oath! And I suggest you give serious and honest answers!”

“That was a very serious and honest answer council. What? *raises brow* You don’t think I’m cute?” She smirked. He gives an exasperated sigh and looks to the judge. “Your honor. It’s obvious that she is not taking this seriously” He says, pointing his hand in her direction.

Shuri scoffs, “Why would I?”

“These are very serious accusations!”

“That have nothing to do with me. You’re all wasting my time.”

The judge bangs her gavel. “That’s enough! Answer the questions properly or I will hold you in contempt of court, and postpone your trial as you sit and think in a cell for 3 months.”

Shuri rolls her eyes, “Excessive, but ok I’ll entertain your little trial. Go on. Ask me something else.” Shuri turned her attention back to the frustrated man.

“Why was your wife brought back to the palace after the failed divorce proceedings?”

“To fuck. Celebrate. ” The courtroom filled with murmurs as the council dropped his head. Seemingly defeated. Until…

“Oh yea? And how did that go? Because we have a witness that says that your wife was there with Miss Teyana Taylor when you exited the building. That would complicate your plans with her highness. Would it not?”

Shuri leaned back kicking her feet up onto the banister, and letting her hands rest on her stomach. Her head cocking to the side. “No. Not really. I always get what I want.”

“Do you? Then what exactly was the commotion in the palace about before the accident?”

Shuri chuckled. “Hm. It seems as though we have a talker huh?”

“Oh yes you’re highness, you do indeed have a talker.”

The Day it Happened

“So, what does this mean Shuri?” You’re eyes didn’t leave the results infront of you. You were tearing at what this could possibly mean. Shuri stood next to you, biting hard into her bottom lip. What she already knew, now confirmed.

“What that means is our tiny guest took it upon herself to control the way Shuri felt about her. She’s a fucking lunatic.” Tolu said standing to the left of you, also immersed in the results.

Your breathing started to get heavier as you tried to wrap your mind around all of this. Not knowing what to believe.

“Wh- h-how? How did she do this?”

“She gave me a little peace offering. Pot bread after everything settled from before. Said she had a date and wanted to thank me for allowing her to stay after all of the confusion. That’s the day I started feeling different. The confusion. The memory blocks.”

You stand staring. Hands begining to shake as your body heated up from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. “Let me get this straight. That bitch was invited into my home by my wife, fucked my wife, and when me and you got better instead of sending the homewrecking bitch home, you allowed her to stay, took a peace offering and she’s been controlling your fucking mind ever since.”

Shuri turned walking away to her “special desk” on the floor of her lab. She opened a drawer pulling out her tyutu. An herb made special by you just for her when the two of you were young. “So it is still my fault?”

“Kutheni kungenjalo Shuri! (Why wouldn’t it be) I asked you to get that bitch out of here immediately after I found out about the two of you, and you refused! So yes! You’re still at fault!” You began pacing. “And how the fuck don’t I know this isn’t some shit you made up just to try and stop me from divorcing you.”

She plopped down into her chair, Her jaw clenching as she refused to look in your direction. She pulled out her rolling papers and began to make a blunt. “Listen. I think right now our biggest issue is Riri! She’s still here and she tried to manipulate the both of you into splitting up!” You nod agreeing with Tolu, yet still having a point to add.

“Which she wouldn’t have been able to do if mfazi wam okrelekrele (my genius wife) had sent the little psycho BACK HOME!” Shuri sat deligently rolling up. “Look at her. She doesn’t even know what to say since her little plan of winning me back didn’t work! How long ago did you cough this shit up again?! And how long have you still been fucking her?!” You say walking over slamming your hand on the table in front of her, punctuating your sentence.

Shuri sat forward. Her elbows on her knees, finished with her task. She placed the final product between her lips. She touched one of her beads and rubbed her middle finger and thumb together, a flame appearing from the top, for her to light her herb. Once lit she took a deep inhale closing her eyes, before releasing a puff of smoke through her nose. She relaxed back into her chair looking up at you through hooded eyes.

“Undiqumbele nyani mhle? (Are you really angry at me beautiful) Or are you upset at how much you still want me? That no matter how much I fuck up. You’ll always crave me. All of the years we’ve known eachother the popular consensus has been my need for you. But, Thando I do believe you’ve grown to need me too. I excite you. The way your heart rate speeds up at the sound of my voice is telling. The desire in your eyes for me when I put your little pet in her place. *smirk* It only makes you want me more. But I beg of you Sthandwa.” She stands to her feet, gliding over to you, your body trembling in anticipation for the true love of your life. “We have a common enemy. Let’s not give her the satisfaction of allowing what she did to tear us apart.” She grabbed your chin caressing it between her fingers as she brings the blunt to her mouth taking another puff before signaling you to open your mouth. You immediately obey as she leaned forward as placed her mouth over yours, releasing the smoke.

She pulls back looking you in your eyes and there you saw her. Your teenage love. “Let’s show her what the Udaku’s are capable of!”

That glint in her eyes sparked a fear and excitement in you. She was back. And the world was in trouble.

“I’ll kill her.”

The Courtroom

“Is it not true that you threatened Ms. Taylor? Saying and I quote ‘You can breathe the air, and take in the scenery of your last day on earth.’ “

“Spot on. Is that what you get paid to do? Quote shit all day.”

“That isn’t a light threat to be making.” He says ignoring her arrogant quip.

“Absolutely not. That’s why it wasn’t a threat counselor. It was a promise. A promise I unfortunately wasn’t able to make good on, Because someone got their hands on her before I could.”

“So you’re saying you would’ve done it?”

“Most definitely. She was a disrespectful, entitled brat who challenged me as soon as she stepped foot in my country. Under Wakanda’s laws I could’ve honestly done whatever I wanted to her.”

“And why should we believe that you didn’t?”

“Because she was with my wife.”

“And weren’t you and your wife in an altercation moments before the incident. Causing her to leave with Ms.Taylor. Am I correct?”

Shuri nods, signaling the man to get to the point.

“Did that not anger you?” Shuri answered simply.

“No”

“Is that right? Is it not true that you were diagnosed with intermittent explosive disorder when you were a teen?” Shuri laughed

“Wow. Did your research.”

“That’s my job. Your highness.” He said finally acknowledging her sarcasm from early on. “And you were placed into the care of your wife. That’s how you met right?”

“The point.” Shuri stated. Bored.

“Gladly. You needed her. You started loosing your mind when she left you. Having episodes again. Somehow you in your deranged state, masking, convinced your wife to not sign the papers and come back to the palace with you. You distracted her and Ms. Taylor for a moment and set them up!”

“I WOULD NEVER HARM A FUCKING HAIR ON MY WIFES HEAD!!”

He came to a house where there was a very beautiful girl. He was received by the girl's father, and stayed there. His horns provided food and clothing food for them all.

Back in the Days

“We simply can not take it anymore. We’re reaching out to you all because we’ve heard wonderful things about your daughter and her herbs. Maybe she would be able to help our Shuri regulate herself”

Your mother looked over at your father, afraid of what the Queen was asking of them. The Princess of Wakanda was a known menace to the country. Easily angered and dangerous at her core. It had been ruled a mental disorder but it did not stop those around her from fearing her. Asking them to allow her under the care of their precious y/n was frieghtening.

“Ikumkani wam, we have great respect for you and your family. However, I need to know that my daughter will be safe. And your Shuri.. She is a known trouble maker. Known for causing harm.”

“I understand, but she only needs the proper care. The treatments that she is getting now are not working. Maybe your girl has what she needs. I guarantee her saftey will be our top priority.”

“How about we schedule a meeting between the two and see where it leads.”

“There she is! My beautiful sister. How are you feeling today, sthandwa sam?” Shuri and Tolu only glanced from the television for a brief moment to acknowledge T’Challas presence.

“Hello, brother. What brings you down to visit the problem child?”

“You know I never need a reason to come visit my love. However, today I do have one.”

Shuri looked back at her brother as he opened the door to her room wider. In walked a girl. Not like any girl Shuri had ever seen. Her golden skin perfectly sun kissed, with beautiful shoulder length locs, and big doe eyes. Shuri was immediately intrigued, leaning up on her bed causing Tolu to turn and pay attention to what was happening. You look around the room taking in the luxirious surroundings until your eyes fell onto Shuri. You watched her give you a once over before you smiled speaking to her.

“Hello.” You state softly.

“H-hello.” Both T’Challa and Tolu looked on in shock. Having never seen Shuri get stuck or be soft with anyone new.

“Um. This Y/n Aku. She is also a young prodigy. An herbalist. Mother thinks that it’s best that we change the route of your treatment. She feels as though this young lady can help with that.”

“An herbalist huh? And just how do you think you can be of service to me? Nothing anyone else has done has helped. What is different about you?”

You stood and thought for a moment before, looking her in the eye and answering. “Like you I am young and open minded. I cater the care I give to the specific individual. What I feel will be best for YOU and what YOU need. I never give generalized care.”

“And what is your process?”

“If you’ll have me. I’d need to spend lots of time with you. Learn your habits, and your triggers so that I can properly treat you.” Shuri smiled leaning back against her headboard.

“Sold, I look forward to spending time with you. Y/n.” You both hold eachothers stare smiling from ear to ear.

Tolu and Shuri walked through the markets. Shuri with an unusual Pep in her step. Her usual cold, hard demeanor had softened a bit. Tolu stared at the side of Shuri’s face smiling at the her joy.

“Look at you. What’s got you in such a great mood?” Shuri looks at Tolu a small smile on her face.

“I think I’m in love Tolu.” She looks at Shuri shocked.

“It’s been 3 months. Is that an accurate amount of time to measure love?” Tolu raised her eyebrow in Shuri’s direction.

“You’re friends with her. You see what I see. How easy she is to love. Tolu, she’s wonderful. I’ve never met anyone as brilliant and beautiful as her. She’s see’s who I am fully and has yet to judge me.” She walks infront of Tolu interrupting her stride.

“I’d like to ask her to be my girlfriend.” Tolu smiled

“What makes you think she wants your evil ass.” They share a laugh.

“Honestly, I think she likes it.” Shuri smiles. Tolu punched her in the arm as they continue their walk. “Me too, Me too Udaku.”

“GET OFF OF ME! LET ME GO!!” Everyone around Shuri and Tolu looked around at eachother trying to see were the sound was coming from. Tolu looked ahead of her to see a commotion a bit further up the road. Three men attempted to snatch something from a girl who appeared to be holding her own under the circumstances. She squinted her eyes trying to get a better look and her face fell when she recognized the silhouette.

“Shuri. That’s Y/n!!” Before Tolu could get the words out Shuri was halfway to the scene and the markets started to scatter. The people immediately going into hiding. Tolu followed right behind Shuri, both running full throttle. Shuri got to you pulling the first man she saw back by the neck.

“Aarrgh” She pierced his pulse point underneath his ear with all her might knocking him to the ground. Tolu came in with a swift kick to the side of one of the men’s face. Leaving you with the last. You took your nails digging them into the man’s eyes as your knee came up to meet his groin. “Mka (Fuck you)” you say as he fell to his knees screaming out. Tolu grabbed you pulling you away from the men. As you ran away you watched as people looked on in horror. You didn’t see Shuri with the two of you and panicked.

“Tolu! Shuri! Where’s Shuri?!”

“Don’t worry about her she’ll be ok!”

“No we have to go get her!” You pull away turning around to run back, but Tolu grabbed you by the waist pulling you against her to stop you from going back. “No y/n! She’s not Shuri right now. You can’t go over there.” She whispered in your ear as you struggled against her. When you stopped and looked straight ahead you saw it. The demon inside of her. Her eyes had blackened and veins protruded from her neck and forehead. She had a man by the throat slamming his head against the ground repeatedly, before repeating with each man. You stood stark still inside Tolu’s arms watching the horrific scene infront of you. Terror filling you as blood splattered on Shuri’s face. But, there was another thing bubbling deep inside of you…. Intrigue, desire. As everyone watched her in horror, you only wanted to get closer.

You removed Tolu’s arms from around your waist calmly stepping forward. “S-shuri?” You say. She kept going oblivious to the world around her. “Shuri!” You spoke this time with power. The sound of your voice snapping her into reality. The men were dead. “That’s enough mhlobo wam. Come to me.” Shuri stood to her feet, wiping her blood smeared hands onto her clothes. You shook with fear and anticipation as she walked timidly over to you. Her mind had immediately snapped from her murderous thoughts, to the thought that she had frightened you away with the scene she had made.

“I-I it’s not usually that extreme I-” Shuri says once in front of you. You shush her with your pointer finger to her lips. Everyone still hidden watching in fear of what was to come from the young girl they deemed a psychopath.

“I have something for you.” You say voice trembling as Tolu stood behind you, but close enough to protect. “Do you mind if I give it to you now?”

Shuri nodded. Unable to look you in the eye afraid that behind your usual glow would be the same judgement she’d always received.”

You dig into your bag pulling out a perfectly rolled blunt.

“This is tyutu. An herb blend that I believe will help you control your urges a bit better. It wil work perfectly for you.” You placed it against her lips, and she accepted it. Pulling out a lighter you lit it for her. “Relax. Take a puff, hold it a moment, and release the smoke from your mouth.” Shuri did as you said. Once she released the smoke a series of coughs followed. You rubbed her back. “See. This proves it. You are no monster. You’re human. A born protector.” Shuri looked at you a tear sliding from her eye. “You could also ingest this through food, or drink, this is the only thing I had in the moment. Anyway you want it I could make it for you.”

Once Shuri calmed from her coughing fit she focused in on your eyes. No judgement. Only your usual sincerity. “I like it.” She says. You smile as she tries another puff. This one going much smoother. You step up to her touching the side of her bloodied face. “It will be better now sthandwa.” You bring your lips to hers placing a light kiss to her lips taking her breath away. “Thank you, Udaku. Let’s get you home.”

You grabbed her hand as Shuri continued to puff on her herbs. Tolu took her place in front of you both, mugging anyone who dare to look too long. The three of you were a sight to see and that day was the start of an inseparable bond.

The Courtroom

“I would never hurt my wife. She is what keeps me sane. She saved my life. I could never hurt her.” A tear rolled down her cheek that she quickly wiped away.

“Well your highness. We’re all waiting..What happened to your wife and Ms.Taylor. And where is Riri Williams?

The day it happened

Riri stormed out of the Citadel barreling towards Teyana.

“Why the fuck are you standing out here when you should be inside with your girl!”

“The Queen ain’t letting me in!” Teyana shrugged.

“Who gives a fuck! Break some doors down show her you don’t play any games!”

“Who the fuck do you think I am! It’s obvious that woman doesn’t play about her wife, and y/n is head over heels for her too. There’s no breaking that bond.” Your driver steps out of the car and Riri cuts her eyes towards him.

“I’m just stepping away for a smoke.” He said, his hands up defensively as he walks away. That’s when it came to her. A perfect plan.

“Fuck that. I’m gonna get you in. Go inside and stir some shit up at the lab. You won’t be able to get into the lab, but cause a little trouble looking for her. I’ll triple what I’m paying you now.” Teyana’s eyebrows shot up in excitement. “Bet! Whatever you say boss!”

Riri snuck off with Teyana, getting her inside the palace, pointing her in the direction she should go. Once Teyana was on her mission Riri snuck back out to the cars. Smiling, she rolled up her sleeves and got to work.

The Day it Happened

“Yo. I heard my girl was in here I’m just trying to get her. Im ready to get the fuck out of here!”

“Panther there is a disturbance in front of the lab.” Says Griot. You all look at each other and head toward the commotion. When the lab doors opened Teyana, was heemed up hands behind her back as a Dora pulled her into submission.

“Well, well, well my love. You could’ve done a much better job training this one. She seems to enjoy trouble.” Shuri signaled for the Dora to let her go. She slowly walked up to Teyana as Teyana grilled her unafraid. Suddenly, Shuri reeled back punching Teyana in the stomach causing her to double over in pain gasping for air. “Shuri!” You scream. She ignored you squatting down to get ear level with Teyana. “I thought I made very clear how unwelcome you were in my home.” She tapped the side of her face with the back of her hand. Her rings scraping her skin.

“Hm. Nothing to say?….. Let me let you in on a bit of a secret I don’t enjoy repeating myself.” Shuri stood with an upper cut to Teyana’s chin. Knocking her right out of her doubled over state straight into her flying backwards and sliding across the floor. Shuri followed her body as it slid. She rolled up the sleeves to her blazer as she once again got into a squat next to the struggling girl who’s wind had been knocked out of her. “I bet the inside of that car is looking like the place to be right now huh?” Shuri chuckled.

Teyana let out a huff. Trying to speak. “Aww look ubusi. Speechless. What happened to all of that mouth?”

“Shuri that’s enough she’s done nothing to you.”

“Au contraire my love she’s done plenty.” Teyana huffed again. Gaining the air back to her lungs “L-leave.” She says her voice coming out strained. “She wants to leave now baby. You’ve had so much to say today. I’d hate for you to go before you get everything you’ve asked for.” At that moment Riri rounded the corner headed to the lab seemingly on a mission. Your eyes narrowed. The thought of her manipulating and violating your wife making your blood boil.

“Baby what is this bitch doing back in our home.” Riri says as she walks up on Shuri. Shuri’s breath hitches as you take a step forward. “Bitch you’ve got audacity. We all know the shit you pulled to cause all of this confusion. The lengths you went to make Shuri want you. How desperate of a bitch do you have to be to create a synthetic love.”

Riri stepped into your space. “There was nothing synthetic about my fingers deep inside of her pussy was it?” Your fist immediatly came across Riri’s face and you didn’t stop raining punches down on her until the two of you were backed up into the lab. Riri had fallen holding onto one of the lab tables for dear life as you continued to use her face as a punching bag. Tolu noticed Riri gripping the sides of the table to gain momentum to bring her legs up to kick you in the stomach. “Y/N! No you’re pregnant!” Tolu screamed as she ran toward you pushing you out of the way.

“You wha-?” Shuri spoke softly behind all of the commotion. The air had been sucked out of the room Riri had slid to the floor on the side of the lab table. To hurt to react to the news. You turn and look to Shuri to see her standing stuck at the entrance of the lab. You swallow, your eyes down cast unable to look at her. You heard the click of her heels through the deafening silence approach you. She stopped just in front of you. “Y/n. You’re what?” She says again. Your eyes still on your feet. “I’m pregnant.” You whispered and you could hear Shuri’s breath hitch.

“How far along?”

“Almost 4 months.” Shuri began to tear up.

“Th-that’s further than last time. Much further Mfazi.” She stepped up and went to her knees in front of you. Eye level to your stomach. Still not showing. “You. You’re still so small my love are you sure. Have you been going to the doctor? Is it a real pregnancy love?” You place your hands on the top of her head finally looking at her, seeing the joy and fear in her eyes. “Baby, listen.” You stepped up guiding her ear to your tummy where she could hear the strong heart beat of your baby. “Oh Bast!” She gasped tears dropping, falling freely from her eyes. “You’re pregnant. Holy shit you’re pregnant sthandwa!!!” She stood swooping you up in her arms, you giggled as she swirled you around, holding tightly to her with your face nuzzled into her neck.

When…

“AAAAAAAAGGGHHH!!!” Riri was up on her feet charging at the two of you. Determined to cause you harm. You couldnt be. There’s no way you were having Shuri’s child. Before she could reach you. Tolu swooped in knocking her to her back. Riri stood. A different type of determination in her eyes. As she decides to go toe to toe with Tolu. She starts backing up bringing Tolu forward as she swung every hit landing. But Riri was on a mission. As Riri got closer to her destination. Tolu landed a spinning kick that spun Riri knocking her face first into the table knocking her completely out.

“That’s what the fuck I’m talking about Lu!!” You yell. Shuri stood next to you looking down at you with a tender smile on her face. “What are we going to do with her baby?”

“OOOhhh no. We *points between the two of you* aren’t doing anything with her. You *points at you, are going to get in your car and head to Tolu’s and send that fleshy uselessness you brought to my country back to where you got her from. Because you’re not getting hurt nor leaving Wakanda while carrying my child.”

“But Mfazi-“

“Mfazi, mfazi, mfazi, you will do as I say eh. I will meet you there when we are done here. I promise you my beautiful bride. You’ve done enough. It’s time for me to clean up my mess. Now go.” She sent you away with a kiss to the lips, and a slap on the ass. You smiled, slowly stepping away and turning to leave the lab.

“Hate to see you go sthandwa. But love to watch you leave.” Shuri says behind you. You toss a glance over your shoulder giving her a wink and a smile before exiting the lab. Shuri turned back to Tolu who was now directly infront of her handing her a pair of gloves.

Shuri took them sliding them onto her hands. “Take her to the room”

You walk out to your car. This time your driver stood outside of your door waiting for you. He opens the door and you slide in to see Teyana leaned against the car door in a bloodied ball.

You shook your head. “I gave you all the tools for success and this is what you chose.”

“I wanna go home.”

“Gladly. You should be grateful you have the opportunity.”

The ride was silent, that is until the car slowly began to shake. Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. Knowing something was wrong immediately. “What’s going on?” You ask the driver. “I have no idea ma’am. I’m finding a safe area for us to pull over.” The shaking only proceeded to get worse. Causing Teyana to sit up in her seat.

“Pull over now!” You yell at the driver. He immediately swerves to the right to pull over, but looses control. The wheel locks and the breaks go out as parts of the car start to fly off!

“Bast, oh bast please no!”

“Yo! What the fuck is happening!! Stop this bitch!”

“I CAN’T! I’ve tried everything! You have to brace yourselves for impact!!”

“My baby! My baby!” You scream as you hold on for dear life with your eyes closed. The car was now at full speed sliding down the road sideway on two tires. Their was a light pole made of vibranium straight ahead. At the last minute you hit the emergency button on your Kimoyo beads. It would immediately notify Shuri that something was wrong. Soon after the car hit the pole seperating the front from the back. The wheels almost disintegrating. Both parts of the car spin out of control. You and Teyana went spinning before being slammed into the side of a building.

“Panther. There is a distress signal being sent by your wife.”

Shuri’s attention was snatched away from Tolu dragging Riri’s limp body into her torture chamber. Tolu dropped Riri in the center of the room as Shuri tried to contact her wife.

“Griot scan the scene.” Shuri says her heart pounding in her chest. Soon after a hologram of the scene of the accident was projected from her beads. Shuri’s heart almost stops.

“Griot. What are my wife’s vitals?!”

“Systolic 60, diastolic 40, heart rate at 48 bpm.” Shuri started to choke.

“We have to go Lu! We have to fucking go NOW!” They both take off as Shuri placed her beads to her necklace. Her Panther suit morphing to her body. She tossed her keys to Tolu as she took off ahead of her to get to the scene. Tolu hopped into Shuri’s car. “Griot take me to Y/n”

“Yes, War Dog” The car immediately took off full speed getting her to her destination. When Shuri and Tolu got to the scene the paramedics were already there. Shuri watched as two body bags where being placed into the back of the ambulances her wife nowhere to be found.

“Where is my wife!? Where is she!? Her beads, they said she was here! Where is my fucking Wife?!” Shuri went through every individual on the scene. Snatching paramedics by the collar and tossing them aside like nothing. Tolu ran up to her. “Shuri! Shuri! You’ve got to calm yourself. We can’t get answers like this. Let me handle it. Breathe a moment ok?” Shuri remained where she was as Tolu ran to get information. Shuri zoned out hoping it was all a dream.

“Shuri. They say she was taken from the scene immediately when they saw who she was. Just come get in the car and let’s get to her ok.”

They both took off to Shuri’s car heading to the hospital. Shuri removed her Panther suit. Sitting staring out of the passenger window of the car staring into the night sky. Praying her wife and child were safe.

Shuri rushed into the building as soon as the car stopped. Running up to the front desk. The receptionist stood as she recognized the queen running in her direction.

“Ikumkani wam. Your wife was taken up to trauma bay 1. She is in surgery.”

“What happened? How was she injured?” Out of breath from the fear and adrenaline. Shuri shot out questions at the woman.

“I-I’m not sure your highness. She’s on the top floor and if you go up I’m sure her doctors can tell you everything you need to know.” She said her head down afraid to make eye contact.

“Thank you.” Shuri says nonchalantly, walking away from the desk heading to the elevator with Tolu on her heels.

Shuri leans against the back wall of the elevator. Her chin dropping to her chest as she tried to control her breathing. “She’s going to be ok Shuri. Her and the baby are going to be fine. You guys will be happy, and loved. And don’t forget well protected by your war dog.” She smiled. Shuri sniffled with a chuckle. “I’m scared Lu. This shit is all on me. She was right none of this would be happening if I’d just sent the girl home.”

“Well you didn’t. And here we are. No need beating yourself up over it. Shit happened, mistakes were made. What’s important right now is that your family is ok.”

“You knew she was pregnant the entire time huh?”

“I was there when she found out. I’ve also been to every appointment.” Shuri smirked.

“Ofcourse you have.”

“She wanted to wait for you. To know what the two of you were having.” Shuri stared at Tolu only sniffling in reply.

The elevator stopped at their floor, as they continued to look at eachother for reassurance before stepping off. A nurse runs over promptly as soon as Shuri is spotted.

“You’re highness, if you could follow me to your private waiting area. I will fill you in on what is happening.” Shuri and Tolu gladly followed. Once inside of the room the nurse filled them in on what is happening.

“Would you like some water or anything?”

“Just tell me what is happening with my wife.” The nurse nods.

“Your wife was rushed into surgery. She had some broken ribs, a collapsed lung, internal bleeding, and also a small brain bleed. The doctors are doing all that they can. But. I’m sorry to say…. It’s not looking promising. Her BP was very low on arrival and she bleed profusely into her stomach.” Shuri let out a shakey breath, her knees weakening. Tolu walked up beside her grabbing and squeezing her hand. Keeping her upright.

“The baby.” She whispered the only words she could manage. The nurse smiled. “You’ve got a little fighter baby’s hanging in there. Her mama protected her with her life.”

“H-her. I-it’s a girl?” Shuri looked at the nurse.

“I’m so sorry. You didn’t know?”

“No. It’s fine. Thank you.” Shuri motioned for her to leave. Her and Tolu sat knowing there was nothing they could do but wait.

Riri woke up in the cold concrete room body aching and head pounding. She touched her bloodied and swollen face wincing in pain. She searched her surroundings. There was nothing only a single lightbulb and concrete walls. She ran to the door yanking and pulling trying to get out. She stepped back as far as she could to get a running start running and kicking the door. She heard a crack in her leg and fell to the ground screaming. She curled into a ball crying and rocking on the floor. She was stuck and only God knows what was going to happen to her. Fear finally started setting in. She had gravely underestimated Shuri and her bitch of a wife. She didn’t have time to break right now, she had to figure a way out.

“Mr. Stark? Are you there?”

“Yea kiddo I’m here.”

“Is there a way you can get my suit to me?”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Her stark AI goes off line for a few moments, and all she could do was wait until it once again turned blue. “I’m back kid stand back.”

She stepped back away from the door just in time for an explosion. There was her suit activated and ready for use. She smiled.

“Let’s get out of here.”

“Your highness.” Your doctors walk in to greet Shuri giving her the salute. She returns the gesture. “Your wife is out of surgery. We stopped the bleeding into her stomach and the brain bleed. Her and baby are stabilized, But she is in a coma. All we can do now is wait. Baby will be fine as long as her mother is ok.”

Shuri’s eyes welled with tears. She nodded as she bit into her lip. “May I see her?”

“Yes you may.” Shuri looked to Tolu. She put up her hands. “You go ahead I’ll keep watch out here.” Shuri silently walks out as the doctor leads her to the room. She opens the door and what she sees breaks her heart. There were tubes everywhere, machines everywhere monitoring you and the baby. Your head was wrapped up and your face was bruised and swollen. There were large bandages on the left side of your abdomen covering where they’d gone in for surgery and the machines helped you to breathe.

“Oh sthandwa.” Shuri choked out. “Im sorry. Im so sorry.” She stumbled over to the bed. Falling to her knees beside you. “I need you to be ok. I can’t survive without you. I’ll spend the rest of my life making this up to you. Whatever you want my love. If you just get better for me.” She turned her attention to your belly. “My daughter. My beautiful baby girl. I hear your tough. We shall name you Amandla. It means strength, to be strong. How do you feel about that my love?” She says to you holding your hand with tears rolling down her face. “You’re going to be ok. You have to be baby.”

At that moment there was a knock at the door. A nurse walks in along with 3 police officers.

“Your highness.” They salute her as she stands to her feet. Tears still streaming down her cheeks. She returns the gesture. “How can I help you gentleman?”

“Ikumkani wam. We have just left the scene of your wife’s accident, and we have some questions for you?” Shuri’s face frowns up in confusion as she crossed her hands in front of her.

“Concerning?”

“Well, I dont know if you are aware, but your wife’s friend from America perished in the accident.” Shuri raised a brow and shrugged, urging him to continue. “Well, we had to call her family to notify them of her passing. And when we did they notified us that she had seemed to be a bit more than friends with your wife. Urging us to investigate further. It seems as though your wife’s accident wasn’t much of an accident.”

Shuri stepped forward getting closer to the officer speaking to her. Her interest had been peaked. “In what way was it not an accident?”

“It seems as though your wife’s driver lost control of the car about a mile back from the site. Essential parts of the car began to lock up or fall off. Seemed perfectly planned and timed. Really only one person we know intelligent enough to pull off something so intricate.”

At that moment Shuri’s kimoyo beads went off. A notification informing her of a breech in the security system of her torture room. Darkness. Darkness covered Shuri’s face as the good parts of her retracted themselves inside of her, and the demon had once again taken over. She looked up at the officers.

“It would seem so.” She says the change in her voice and demeanor striking.

“We’ve come here to warn you your highness. The Americans are finding a way to come for you. Apparently, your wife’s friend had been connected to some very powerful people. They have forced the information out of us. There is not much time.”

Shuri gave a small nod “Thank you gentleman. I would like to be alone with my wife now.”

“Ewe” They each say giving a salute before leaving the room and closing the door behind them.

Shuri walks over to your bed, grabs and caresses your hand. “It seems as though things are about to get hairy my dear. I may not be here for much longer. I pray that if you awaken to my absence that you know it is totally against my will and that I didn’t go down without a fight. She did this to you and my child. And she will suffer the consequences.” She brought your hand to her mouth, planting a long kiss before placing it down, placing another soft kiss to your belly. “My Amandla, stay strong ubusi.” She slowly backed away and with on last glance over her shoulder she stepped out of the room where she found Tolu standing in wait.

Shuri’s demeanor was hard. There was no more light in her eyes. And Tolu knew, they were going to war.

“Tolu, daughter of Yemah”

Tolu stepped up standing at attention in front of Shuri.

“Yes, Panther”

Shuri stepped closer to her leaning forward almost whispering in Tolu’s ear.

“Go get that bitch.”

On command, Tolu gave her war salute crossing her arms over her chest tapping her beads together twice making her swords appear as she went down on one knee in a kneel to Shuri. Her swords drawn straight out behind her. With that Shuri turned to walk away, and Tolu stood to her feet headed in the opposite direction. On a hunt for Riri Williams.

Tolu entered the Palace on a mission. Determined to find the woman responsible for all of the chaos. She went to where they had left her, only to find a hole where the door used to be. Tolu turned looking for clues of where she could possibly be when she heard a noise and the lights cut out. Tolu pulled out her swords and began a tactical walk through the back halls of the lab.

“Run rabbit run!” Tolu laughed. “I love the chase.” She heard the whining of metal behind her, a small step being taken. She smiled and continued to move forward. “You know Shuri’s on to you. She knows everything. Even your little attempt on her wife’s life. Killed everyone except her. For a genius. You’re really bad at accomplishing your goal.” Tolu felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand and she quickly turned jamming her blade into the side of Riri’s suit.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Damn! All that hard work! Down the drain. You know Shuri had a feeling you might try to use your suit. Taught me right where to disarm it.” Another slice to the other side of Riri’s suit hit hard, knocking her to her knees.

“Aaarrgh!” Riri yelled. “Fuck you and your little friend I hope her and that little mutant she’s growing dies where she lies!” Tolu smirked.

“Oouuu there’s another little trick Shuri showed me too.” She crouched down to Riri’s level. Want to see it.” Before Riri could answer Tolu took the blade of her sword and began to press it into the heart of Riri’s suit. She pressed until the suit completely out circuited, but she didn’t stop there. She kept pressing until the blade was pressing into Riri’s chest. Riri’s eyes widened as she realized what was happening. Tolu was going to take her life.

“If she does die. You two will pass by eachother as you head in opposite directions. Any last words?”

Riri huffed. “Yes…Tell Shuri I love her.”

Tolu pulled the sword from Riri’s chest bringing it above her to slam it back into her chest when suddenly Riri knocked the sword from her hand using the vibranium from her suit to knock Tolu backwards. She pulled the arm of her suit from her right arm where she had been holding onto a toxic substance that she’d grabbed from the desk and snuck into her bra before Tolu knocked her unconscious earlier. She squeezed her hand bursting the bag and rubbed the calcium ammonium nitrate into Tolu’s eyes. Tolu screamed bloody murder! Riri reached for Tolu’s sword. Grabbing it and bringing it above her head to jam it into Tolu’s chest.

A hand comes out of nowhere out of the darkness. Gripping Riri’s wrist painfully tight. Shuri’s face appears out of the darkness.

“Queen Shuri Udaku! Come out with your hands up!” The Citadal was surrounded. The other Avengers where the only outsiders with access to Wakanda. They’d all turned on her. Allowed America to turn her into some type of murderous danger when she was completely innocent. Though right now she didn’t look it. She stepped out of her home, blood dripping from her fingertips. Smeared all over her clothes and face. Her eyes black and pupils dialated with blood lust. Her nostrils flared as spotlights fell onto her. She looked into the sky turning slowly, staring at all her comrades here to take her in.

“This is what it’s come to!” She speaks so all can hear. “You all have been welcomed into my country once, and the next time you enter you’ve turned against me!” She yelled at the top of her lungs her canines protruded, as spit flew from her mouth. She was deranged.

“When my innocence is proven this will not be a partnership easily restored! YOU ALL WILL FEEL THE WRATH OF SHURI UDAKU!! I’LL BE YOUR WORSE FUCKING NIGHTMARE!!” Shuri laughs manically as everyone swooped in to take her down.

There she was in her own country. Laying flat on her belly being handcuffed and extradited to the states for the murder of Teyana Taylor, and the attempted murder of her wife and child. Later they would realize that Riri Williams had gone missing, and through the blood samples they’d taken from Shuri upon her arrival they’d ruled her disappearance a homicide as well.

“So you’re telling me all of this started because Riri Williams had a crush on you.” The councilor spoke.

“SHE’S A LIAR!! MY BABY WOULD NEVER DO THAT! SHES A BEAUTIFUL INTELLIGENT WOMAN! SHE COULD’VE HAD ANYONE SHE WANTED! SHE’S A DAMN LIAR.” Shuri sat back once again finding humor in the situation. As the bailiff grabbed Riri’s mother to escort her out of the courtroom.

“Hate to break it to you mama! Your daughter is a psychopath! And she’s also alive! She tried to kill my wife and child and set me up for the murder!”

“Well why were you covered in her blood when we picked you up.”

“I told you before she left, she got into an altercation with my friend over there and blinded her! Dear Bast! I had to protect her. But she ran off. What a menace!! You guys should really get her off of the street! While you’re all sitting here wasting time with me she could be out there controlling minds and blinding people!” Shuri says in faux appall, before chuckling.

At that moment the courtroom doors fly open. Two members of the Dora Milaje standing, holding the doors open. You round the corner strutting into the courtroom with your head held high. Your brown dress with a connected shawl that wrapped over your head, under your left arm and over your right clung to your body as your belly now slightly protruded with a bump from your healthy baby girl. Shuri’s mouth dropped and tears welled in her eyes, as the courtroom erupted in talk.

“Oh my God!”

“It’s the Queens wife!”

You walk right past all of the commotion and step past the border without a word, a manilla envelope in hand packed to the brim. You approach the judges bench placing the envelope infront of her. You turn away, but not before tossing a wink at your now dumbfounded wife. You walk away taking a seat in the empty chair next to Tolu. Shuri stared in your direction her chest rising and falling slowly but heavily. Was she seeing correctly? It was you. It was really you.

The judge emptied the contents of the envelope onto the desk scanning over each object closely while everyone sat on the edge of their seats wondering what the wife of the queen had brung.

“Will the Plantiff and Defendant please approach the bench.” Shuri stood coming down from the stand and approaching the bench along with the defendants council.

“It seems as though we have evidence that links Riri Williams to the cause of the accident. And there are multiple witnesses in Wakanda that have reported sightings of her and even photos.” Shuri’s head lifted, biting her lip to contain the smile spreading across her face.

“Your highness, we are very sorry to have wasted your time, and it is with great honor that I dismiss this case.” The judge bangs her gavel and the courtroom goes wild. The defendants side shouted threats and slurs, as the plaintiffs side rejoiced. Overjoyed that their queen was returning home.

Shuri turned around, all the family that she had left and built after loosing her immediate family standing front row with smiles taking over their faces. But the only face she could care about at the moment was one that she hadn’t seen in three months. Their you stood looking beautiful as ever with your smaller than usual seven month pregnant pudge. A sudden calm washed over Shuri as the tears finally fell. A weight lifting off of her shoulders. You stepped forward, the two of you making your way to eachother slowly. This was surreal. You met in the center of the room just standing and looking at eachother.

“I can’t believe you’re here my love. W-when did you come out? Why did no one say anything?”

“About a month ago. No one said anything for the same reason noone told me about your predicament for awhile. They thought they were protecting us. I figured it out after about a week though. They’d been working deligently to get you out, and when we finally got all of the evidence needed I knew I wanted to be here. Nothing in the world could have stopped me.” Shuri smiled licking her lip and reaching out for your belly. She placed her hand gently on your belly bending down to speak. “My little Amandla you made it back to me strong girl. Your umama is proud of you.”

A tear trickled down your face. “You named her?” Shuri stood upright nodding. “If that’s ok with you Ubusi.” You smiled. “I love it. Our little Amandla Udaku.” Shuri stepped forward wrapping her arms around you.

“If I’ve learned anything in the time passed my sweet y/n. It is that I cannot live my life without you. You breathe life into me and with every bit of my being I will do what it takes to protect you and our daughter. For the rest of my days.”

“I love you Shuri Udaku”

Shuri swooped you up in her arms bridal style. You grabbed her face bringing it to yours and you kissed like no one else was in the room.

Shuri pulled away with a smile on here face.

“I have a gift for you. Let’s get you home.”

And she walked out of the courtroom with you in her arms.

Shuri lead you down the dark hall to a room with several locks. She took her time unlocking each one. And turned to you smiling.

“You ready for this my love!”

“Stop stalling and open the door already Shuri.” You giggled. The door opened and Shuri flicked on the lights. There….was a bloody and bruised Riri Williams hanging from her wrist from the ceiling.” You’re eyes were wide in shock at the sight of her. Slash marks all over her body her finger nails missing. Her finger tips burnt.

“Watch this my love.” Shuri flicked a switch and Riri was jolted awake by electricity.

When her head lifted you noticed that her eyes were gone.

“Please. Please kill me! I can’t live like this anymore. Tell my mama I love her and I’m sorry.” Her voice was raspy from dehydration and her constant screams.

“Awww come on now they tell me you enjoyed some of it. Like our little game of cat mouse. See babe. We let her loose some times. Let the goons hunt her and whoever brought her back got a prize! I figured she liked that one.”

“Oh My God Shuri!” Tears poured down your face. You looked to her your facial expression stuck in shock.

“For me? You did all of this for me?” You asked. She walked towards you grabbing your waist pulling into you. “Yes my love. All for you. I’d place all the starts at your feet if you just give me the time. This was due to you.”

You smiled, lifting your chin to place a loving kiss to Shuri’s lips. And then another and another. The kiss quickly turned from innocent to lustfilled. Shuri began pushing you back against the wall as the two of you felt all over eachothers bodies. You began to slide Shuri’s cream suit jacket from her shoulders allowing it to drop to the floor. As she pressed your body into the wall you began to unbutton her pants as you kissed sloppily. Once her pants were unbuttoned you placed your hands underneath her crisp white button up, reaching up underneath until you were fondling her breast underneath her bra. She through her head back moaning at your touch. You lifted your leg. Rubbing it up and down hers hinting at wanting her to pick you up.

She obliged

“I pictured our reunion over and over again sthandwa. And I couldn’t have imagined anything more romantic than this.” Shuri spoke against your lips. You hum in agreement. Taking your arms from around Shuri’s neck you find her wrist and pressing your favorite button on her Kimoyo beads, you’d take the same hand and tech inbetween the two of you, guiding her strap inside of you. Your eyes rolled back and your mouth dropped, as your head fell back agains the wall. You’d missed your wife. Shuri took the opportunity to attack your neck kissing biting and sucking as she began to thrust into you.

“Yes! Yes fuck me like the fucking demon you are my love.” She growls into your ear and takes it up a notch.

“Oh God Riri! If only you could see this! I can only imagine were a sight to see!” You giggle “But I heard you enjoy listening.” A groan came from Riri as she began to cry.

“Please. Please let me die!”

“Ahhhhh! Oh babe. Her tears make me so horny! Uhn im ready to cum already!” Shuri thrust deeper and harder giving you her all as you scream out your pleasure.

“Come for me my Angel. I’m right behind you.” Shuri’s breathing was sporadic, her eyes wild as she drooled onto your breast.

“Ooouuuuu Fuck me!!! I’m cumming Shuri! I’m going to cum so hard all over you.” A few more pumps and your release was splashing all over Shuri causing her to follow right behind you. The two of you held eachother in orgasmic bliss as Riri cried.

Shuri pulled out of you. Letting your legs that she had spread up against the wall down one by one. You fixed your dress and strolled over to where Riri hang. “Oh my love. I think she’s happy here.” Shuri buckled her pants over by the wall. Her clothes were a mess but she didn’t care to fix them. She looked on the outside now exactly as she was on the inside.

EVIL.

“She does huh? I was going to leave her fate to you. Let you take her out of her misery. Or release her and let her live her life this way.”

“Just let me die! Just let me die please!” You walk around her body giving her a once over. “Hmm. Let me think on it love. For now let’s go take a bath.” You grab Shuri’s hand leading her to the door as Riri screamed after you.

“No! Nononononono don’t leave me like this! I can’t take it any more!”

You turned out the light and Shuri closed the door behind the two of you.

Riri hung there. Crying. Darkness was the only thing she knew now. This was something she never thought Shuri capable of. Pure evil. None of what she’d done had been worth this. All she wanted was to die. To be taken out of her misery. She heard a noise. The door was opening and all she could do was hang there. Her voice gone from all the screaming.

“Well, well, well. This is unfortunate.” Tolu’s voice rang throughout the room. Causing Riri’s lip to tremble.

“I’ve come to do a job once again. A job that I can be honest and say I really don’t want to do. See my bosses. They’re so loving, so kind. If I were them I’d let you rot here in your mess. Die a slow, painful, torturous death. *sigh* But! Unfortunately they’ve agreed to take you out of your misery.”

Tolu removed a gun from her waist pointing it straight between Riri’s eyes.

“Any last words.”

Riri could only let out a hoarse “Thank you”.

Tolu removed her shades, looking Riri over. “No. Thank you for the eyes, so that I can enjoy seeing you suffer in your final moments. But keep in mind this relief did not come from me. This my dear….

Is a gift….” Tolu pulled back the hammer.

“From the Udaku’s”

*BANG!*

A/N: I know this shit took forever but I hope you guys enjoyed and that it was worth the wait.

#letitia wright #letitiawright #shuri udaku #spotify #shuri x reader #shuri fanfiction #shuri x you #shuri fic #Spotify

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dkniade · 1 year ago

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Contrast and Unity in the White/Black Imagery of Genshin Impact Quest Titles

Dragonspine 1.2 & 2.3 Events, Fontaine Act I

Game: Genshin Impact

Developer: HoYoverse

Fan Localization: Dusk

An aside from when I tried to explain the meaning of Kreideprinz’s Chinese term—

In Chinese, 白垩 is used to refer to Albedo with varying meanings but in the English version the term is even less consistent:

Concealed Talon item description 白垩层 (baie ceng) = “Cretaceous Layer” (of soil) localized as “Cretaceous”

Albedo’s Story Quest Chapter title 白垩之章 (baie zhi zhang) = “Cretaceous Chapter” localized as “Princeps Cretaceous Chapter”

Albedo’s second Ascension voiceline, 白垩 (baie) = “chalk”/“Cretaceous”, localized as “albedo”, the second stage of the alchemical magnum opus

(even though in the context of alchemy, the albedo (Latin: “whitening”) stage should be 白化 (baihua, whitening) in Chinese because the albedo stage does not refer to chalk/limestone)

Albedo’s title 白垩之子 (baie zhi zi) = possibly varies slightly depending on context that it appears in, localized as “Kreideprinz”

Xingqiu’s “About Albedo” voiceline, 白垩老师 (baie laoshi) = (teacher) “Mr. Cretaceous” (Latin) or “Mr. Chalk” (English) or “Mr. Kreide” (German) localized as “Mr. Kreideprinz”

Version 1.2’s name 白垩与黑龙 (baie yu heilong) = “The White Chalk and the Black Dragon” or “Cretaceous and the Black Dragon”

or one can localize it in German like how they did the 4.0 Chapter IV Act I “Prelude of Blancheur and Noirceur” (French: “Prelude of Whiteness and Blackness” or ”Prelude of Innocence and Darkness”)

though, officially, Version 1.2’s name 白垩与黑龙 is localized as “The Chalk Prince and the Dragon”

Speaking of black and white in titles, another aside—

Don’t you know that HoYoverse loves juxtaposing white/black or light/shadow in its quest titles

1.2 Dragonspine event

Chinese: 白垩与黑龙 (Baie yu Heilong) = “The White Chalk and the Black Dragon”

Official English: “The Chalk Prince and the Dragon”

2.3 Dragonspine event

Chinese: 皑尘与雪影 (Aichen yu Xueying) = “White Dust and Snowy Shadows”

Official English: “Shadows Amidst Snowstorms”

皑 from 白雪皑皑 (baixue aiai) usually refers the whiteness of snow specifically, so 皑尘 as “(snowy) white dust” is just their over-the-top way to say “snow”.

“Snowy Dust and Snowy Shadows” sounds too humorous though.

I’VE BEEN WANTING TO SAY THIS FOR A LONG TIME NOW: of course symbolism-wise it’s likely that “white dust” refers to Albedo, “snow” refers to the Cryo Whooperflower Albedo, and “shadow” refers to Primordial Albedo, with Durin encompassing all three as the shadow dragon that lies dead—like dust—in the snowy mountain.

HoYoverse being HoYoverse has found a way to say white and black without even using the hanzi for white (白) and black (黑) back in 2.3.

4.0 Fontaine Act I

Chinese: 白露与黑潮的序诗 (Bailu yu Heichao de Xushi) = Prelude of White Dew and Black Tides

Official English: “Prelude of Blancheur and Noirceur”

with French terms translated: “Prelude of Whiteness and Blackness” or “Prelude of Innocence and Darkness”

Given the information in 4.0, I would assume that “white dew” refers to Furina and “black tides” refers to Neuvillette seeing how Furina’s always at the front of key visuals and Neuvillette’s always looming ominously over the background, but you can also think of it as innocence vs guilt, I suppose.

POETIC ALLUSION UPDATE: 白露 alludes to the Chinese poem “蒹葭”(Jianjia) = “Reed”

from the ancient collection of poems, 诗经 (Shijing)

The poem is basically the narrator talking about not being able to reach their lover, who’s on the other side of the water (lake?)

The act’s Chinese title is already over-the-top—since most people would look at it and think “ah white and black and something about water, got it”—so localization’s aim is to match the fancy feel and not the accuracy ‘cause honestly if you localize all that into French it’d be too long. This makes sense…

Though, the implication that French holds such a high prestige that its mere presence is enough to balance out some loss of meaning from the Chinese title is… strange, now that I think of it.

白露与黑潮的序诗 (Prelude of White Dew and Black Tides) in French would be “Prélude de la rosée blanche et des marées noires”… I think. (Please correct me if I’m wrong.)

This time HoYoverse found another way to say white and black while using the hanzi characters AND STILL BE EXTRA BECAUSE THEY ALLUDED TO A CHINESE POEM OF COURSE THEY DID. ARCHONS, man…

New drinking game: take a shot whenever black/white or dark/light is juxtaposed in a Genshin title/name of any language, take another shot if they don’t actually use the word/character for black/white in the target language, take another if they alluded to a Chinese poem or literature in the original LOL

#dusk analysis #genshin translation #symbolism #dragonspine #albedo #durin #dorian #subject 3 #rubedo #fontaine #furina #neuvillette #kreideprinz #princeps cretaceous #the chalk prince and the dragon #shadows amidst snowstorms #prelude of blancheur and noirceur #genshin impact #genshin archon quest

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holy-puckslibrary · 11 months ago

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← previous month’s round-up

here's a list of everything i published in the month of DECEMBER

˗ˏˋ main masterlist ˎˊ˗

━ see the special events below!

━ none this month!

━ FICMAS (tumblr)

˗ˏˋ THE MRS. CLAUSE ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — NATE MACKINNON x claus!reader premise — when she took the reins as the world's chief claus, her father forgot to disclose one very pressing hidden clause in the job contract… cw — me getting way too into the lore of the council of legendary figures, reader is blinded by stress and nate is in lurrrvvv, and some mild angst wc — 2k

˗ˏˋ HOLIDATE ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — JACK HUGHES x reader premise — in order to avoid the annual interrogation into his love life, jack hughes enlists his longtime friend to be his totally platonic plus-one for the holidays. cw — alcohol mention, jack being moody while luke and quinn are menaces, and reader and jack are idiots (in love, affectionate) wc — 2.3k

˗ˏˋ CANDY CANE GRAM ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — teacher!JEFF SKINNER x teacher!reader premise — their students decide to play matchmaker before a school dance; will their scheming pay off? cw — me using jeff as an outlet for the degree in education i don’t use bc i would like to be financially stable, jeff and reader being sneaky sneaky, kiddos trying to play cupid, and my history major jumping out! wc — 2.4k

˗ˏˋ THE NANNY ON THE SHELF ˎˊ˗ ➤ series masterlist pairing(s) — dilf!ERIK JOHNSON x reader premise — in erik's absence, his nanny takes over staging the family's elf on the shelf in order to keep the magic alive for his children. results are… questionable. cw — pre-relationship/pre-therapy erik being a dick and josie being sassy (if you can’t handle the heat, get outta the kitchen — looking @ you ej…) wc — 1.1k

˗ˏˋ TRADITION ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) pairing — dbf!SIDNEY CROSBY x reader premise — it may not be the right plant, but it's close enough to justify upholding the festive tradition. cw — unspecified age gap (everyone's legal, dw), smokin' grass (oiud, a joint, mary jane, whichever term you want to use), 18+ content — innocence/corruption kink, adult language/dirty talk, sexual activity under the influence between two consenting adults, fingering (r), oral (r), slight exhibitionism kink, unprotected p in v + creampie (a very merry chrysler to you) wc — 4.4k

find more more holiday content ˗ˏˋ HERE ˎˊ˗

your fellow readers (and my lovely patrons) gifted you some spine-chilling spice this holiday season! be sure to thank them for their generosity when you get a chance <33

˗ˏˋ FARMER’S DAUGHTER ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) pairing(s) — foreman!JOSH ANDERSON x farmer’s daughter!reader premise — she’ll always remember the time she let her daddy's foreman soil her in the middle of his pasture… cw — backdoor play, costumes/roleplay (kinda sorta), + risky location/exhibitionism, implied age gap, outdated patriarchal beliefs, innocence kink, corruption kink, slight humilation kink, spit as lube, dacryphilia, slight overstim, unprotected p in v, possessive!josh x virgin!reader (outdated definition and beliefs here, too) and just general filth wc — 3.5k

˗ˏˋ BONER-KILLER ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) pairing(s) — camp counselor!JACK HUGHES x camp counselor!reader premise — no machetes, no hockey masks… at least, that’s what he promised. cw — a few jokes about death/dying and murder, rather short n tame ("vanilla") barely-there spice from me???, jack being a little shithead (and a little switchy omg), a smidge of angst, and spoopy ending… (kevin heimbach hive rise!) wc — 1.4k

˗ˏˋ NEW PERSPECTIVE ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) pairing(s) — (soft)dark!stalker!QUINN HUGHES x grey!reader premise — in his own shadowy domain, he could be whatever and whoever he wanted… cw — dom!reader + subby-as-hell!quinn (ngl he’s kind of a pathetic loser here, but that’s why we love him), m!receiving oral (perhaps too much idk you tell me) + cum play x2, quinn rendered dumb and speechless by his raging humiliation kink and his need for degradation (and an itty bitty bit of praise — quinn: new kink unlocked), i have been plagued w ball play as of late so im subjecting yall to it, mention of edging and orgasm denial, oh and just some pheromone kink bits and a cute lil oral fixation moment or two, nothing to see here! wc — 4k

˗ˏˋ LIVE DEMONSTRATION ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) ➤ series masterlist pairing(s) — camboy!MITCH MARNER x camgirl!reader (+ some special guests) premise — their first performance with a live studio audience! cw — cameos…bc cameo lol, public sex (a literal audience), unprotected boinking + creampie, some reach-around finger-bang action, unprotected coitus + cum play bc mitchy is nasty, praise kink influencer!mitch — "content, baby, content!" (name that vlogger lol), brief past phone sex (kinda? idk you'll see), discussion of sex work and the selling of items wc — 3k

˗ˏˋ A PEARL ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) pairing(s) — captain!ERIK KARLSSON x reader premise — its the rum talking… or is it? cw — stranger sex and CMNF, 18th century purity culture and oral (f receiving) wc — 600 (preview of my POTC au)

find more spooky content ˗ˏˋ HERE ˎˊ˗

━ WHAT I POSTED ON PATREON

˗ˏˋ 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — firefighter!QUINN HUGHES x reader premise — over a decade ago, jack hughes broke her little sister’s heart. out of loyalty, she hasn’t spoken to his elder brother, quinn hughes, since. the holiday season is brimming with miracles; will a mended bridge make the list this year? cw — angst with a fluffy ending, quinn and the reader being overprotective idiots, named sister!oc (for the reader), kinda non-linear timeline, and less dialogue from me than usual wc — 2.7k

˗ˏˋ 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒 ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — baker!NICO HISCHIER x wedding planner!reader premise — nico, the owner of the most sought-after bakery in town, has always had a crush on the reader, an equally popular wedding planner in the area. never more than acquaintances, they still bonded over a shared love of sweetening memories for their special clients. without words, he can tell something is different this time – something is wrong. something happened last christmas; can nico save her from tears this year? cw — angst, mention of infidelity (not on or by nico), a failed engagement and some scrooge-esque pessimism, and some tooth-rotting, cliché fluff! wc — 1.6k

˗ˏˋ 𝐍𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐘 ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) pairing(s) — MICHAEL BERZATTO (fx’s the bear) x reader premise — he should be at the celebrating, but he isn’t. he was, but not anymore. not after she called. instead, he’s playing… knight in shining sleigh for his kid brother’s childhood playmate. there’s only one way for this night to end… and it won’t land either of them on the nice list this year… cw — unreliable narrator + self-deprecation, age gap, non-canon timeline for the bear (because i don't want to do math lol), mention of reader x ritchie and implied past carmie x reader, alcohol, a lot of degradation, thigh riding / dry humping, orgasm denial, spit play, unhealthy people in an unhealthy non-relationship relationship, a pinch of misogyny, slight impact play, and slight inappropriate use of a santa costume… wc — 2.9k

˗ˏˋ 𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐇𝐎 ˎˊ˗ (social media au) pairing(s) — JACK HUGHES x reader; jack hughes x olivia rodrigo (iykyk); COLE CAUFIELD x reader premise — inspired by the song of the same name off of sab’s fruitcake ep cw — mention of cheating, me villianizing jack a wee bit, well-deserved cole love, and me having too much fun with famous!reader

˗ˏˋ 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — dilf!ERIK JOHNSON x nanny!reader ➤ series masterlist premise — (set before the main story) every member of the johnson household loves christmas. all but the patriarch, whose heart seems to be two sizes too small. there is one person, however, who might put things right… cw — too much time in grinch!erik’s head, erik being a douche canoe for no reason and mopey because he’s emotionally constipated, alarming lack of josie and reese, and mel stirring the pot wc — 2k

˗ˏˋ (𝐑𝐄𝐃, 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃) 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒 ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — JAKE ‘HANGMAN’ SERESIN (tg: maverick) x bradshaw!reader premise — a christmas miracle is orchestrated by the one person she least expects. cw — a cheesy nickname, mention of candy, an only child writing sibling banter, me not being over goose’s death (that i’ve only seen once because i physically can't experience that again), a smidge of angst followed by tooth-rotting fluff, a wee bit suggestive at the end, and my inability to keep a story contained to one upload wc — 1.8k

˗ˏˋ 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐌𝐑𝐒. ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — professor!SIDNEY CROSBY x TA / grad student!reader premise — red lips, green envy. cw — nameless biotches trying to steal our man!! power imbalance, secret situationship, references to sex but nothing descriptive, and angst angst angst but some fluff for good measure too, some oc deets added to the reader (nothing physical) for story purposes, and insecurity being a bitch but sid is so words of affirmation slay <3 wc — 2.3k new au verse coming soon!

˗ˏˋ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐍 ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — MATTHEW TKACHUK x reader premise — during an island getaway, festive fury brings unspoken truths to the surface. cw — white people vacationing in hawai’i, mention of alcohol and liquid courage, reference to (past) underage drinking and (past) sex between consenting minors, mention of elementary age-bully, matty being a jealous, elitist douche via inner monologue and a loser-boy via sudden on-set of foot-in-mouth disease (very dangerous — stay safe out there, y’all!), reference to virginity / a lil slut-shaming, angst with a fluffy, suggestive ending wc — 3k

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒, 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐘 ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — grinch!JAMIE DRYSDALE x martha may!reader premise — jamie hates christmas, but it may just all be a misunderstanding. cw — jamie being a passive aggressive baby because he's emotionally constipated, references to childhood bullying, emotional cheating / physical cheating (not on jamie or the reader, brief and kinda wholesome), jamie smoking a cig bc ~stressed~ (and a lack of healthy coping skills), mention of blood/violence (super brief), and references to an angel tree topper but no religion or religious components wc — 2.3k

˗ˏˋ 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐌 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐘 ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) pairing(s) — single dad!MATT MARTIN x ballerina!reader premise — its the first role many young ballerinas aspire toward, and matt’s daughter is no different. however, matt has different aspirations for this season’s sugar plum fairy… cw — an age gap (unspecified, but mentioned), naughty things in a risky and wholesome location, me caring too much about stage costumes, non-hockey playin’ matt (implied), unprotected p in v coitus, and matt being a dirty simpy dog for his kid’s favorite person wc — 1.3k

˗ˏˋ 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐖! ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — JOE BURROW x reader premise — an unexpected road trip with his best friend’s little sister becomes a bit more than joe bargained for—in the best way possible. cw — insensitive comment about concussions, awkward!joe 🤍's the reader, + reader has a fear of storms and an overprotective brother wc — 1.4k

˗ˏˋ 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐌𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌 𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐊 ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) pairing(s) — JEREMY SWAYMAN x reader premise — his california girl has never seen snow. this isn’t exactly what she had in mind, but she's not complaining… cw — this is straight-up p*rn. cum sharing/cum play, unprotected anal sex + ass eating from the back🙊, manhandling (affectionate), bondage via ribbon, spitting <3, minor objectification + minor discussion of injury, hints of overstim, personification of body parts, and dom!sway being a downright filthy menace ass man with a condescending potty mouth (pun not intended, but funny nonetheless) wc — 1.9k

˗ˏˋ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) pairing(s) — TREVOR ZEGRAS x reader (established); JAMIE DRYSDALE x reader; MASON MCTAVISH x reader; background trevor x the boys; slight jamie x mason premise — what better gift on your friends to bestow than the gift that keeps on giving? cw — everyone’s a lil bi because why not, trevor is boyfriend of the year, mason and jamie bickering over whose turn it is to munch, tz + reader are switchy and mason + jamie are bratty and subby, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), accidental edging, trevor being a cocky menace and stirring the pot, and a wee bit of a cliff-hanger bc i'm incapable of controlling myself :-) oh, and the current pet name fixation of the week! wc — 2k

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐊 & 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐄𝐒 ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) pairing(s) — movie!MIKE SCHMIDT (fnaf) x reader premise — mike has something very specific on his list this christmas. cw — slight festive roleplay, breeding kink to the max (with the explicit intention of getting her knocked tf up), mike being obsessed with tits (and having a raging lactation kink), nipple play, dry humping & domestic dirty talk, no p in v (happens off-page/screen), mention of a past pregnancy scare, me wanting abby to be happy with every fiber of my being, and potential FNAF spoilers (honestly, not really) wc — 2.5k

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dilemmaontwolegs · 2 years ago

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Running from the Flames {17}

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x OFC Warnings: 18+ only, fluff, panic attack - this is a work of fiction and the events are not based on reality. Chapter: One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten || Eleven* || Twelve || Thirteen || Fourteen || Fifteen || Sixteen || Seventeen || Eighteen || under construction

Ilies was kind enough to take Pierre, Addie and I to the airport early on Monday morning. Pierre had put his Audi on one of the car transporters heading to Alpine’s mechanical headquarters in Paris and he would pick it up from there later in the week when he returned for some training. With the next race being in Canada there was a two week break so he was going to spend a few days in London with us as long as he kept up his fitness routine.

I was apparently the one in charge of making sure that happened but his personal trainer might have been shocked to hear that my idea of exercise involved us tangled in bedsheets. I kept that to myself of course and just agreed. As long as I got to watch while Pierre worked out in my home gym then it was a win-win to me.

“Thanks for the lift, Granny,” I said as I kissed her cheeks after boarding the private jet.

“It’s on the way to New York so it’s no hassle, honey. Are you sure you don’t want to come to Fashion Week with me?”

I grimaced at the idea. “And have you try to use me as a model again, no thanks.”

“What?” she asked innocently as she buckled up into her seat. “You’ve got the legs for it.”

“She’s not wrong,” Pierre whispered in my ear. “They are very sexy.”

I elbowed him lightly but he just laughed it off and I continued on my way down the aisle. Two rows down I found dad, who was half asleep, and heading home to see mum. I sat Addie into the seat beside him and buckled her in before setting up her latest animated fixation, Mulan, on the screen in front of her.

“Let mummy know if you need to go to the loo,” I reminded her before pulling the earphones over her head.

There was no reason to be all sat together so I passed the last two rows before sitting down. There was only the galley behind us but since the flight was a little over two hours I doubted anyone would ask for refreshments and we would be left alone.

“Are you okay?” I asked as we hit some turbulence coming into Heathrow and Pierre clutched the armrest between us. His eyes were closed and his lips pressed in a firm line as he nodded his head. He had been uneasy since takeoff but repeatedly lied and said he was fine. “You couldn’t have picked a sport with more travel if you tried.”

“I’m fine with flying…until it gets bumpy.” He let me pull his hand from the leather material and replaced it with my own as we watched the GPS of the plane inching closer to the airport.

“Miss Vowles, Mr Gasly, if you could please fill these out before we land that would be wonderful,” the stewardess said as she handed me three Passenger Locator Forms before moving on to dad.

I filled out mine and Addie’s while Pierre did his but he took a little longer since he wasn’t a UK Citizen like us and had more pages to complete. I actually had dual citizenship through the ‘grandfather scheme’ which meant I was entitled to apply for citizenship where my parents and grandparents were citizens. Legally, I could hold a passport of Mexico, the USA and the United Kingdom but I preferred to use my UK one since it had the least restrictions.

If Erik ever tried to petition for access to Addie and won, then she could have all three passports and a Norwegian one too.

The thought turned my mood sour and as we touched down on British soil I began to rue my decision to come back. I knew I needed to be here to pack up the house for the move and visit Dr Pascoe in person but there was always a little storm cloud in the back of my mind when I was in London.

The city was tainted of memories with Erik, the restaurants we had eaten at, the cinemas we have gone to. I couldn’t even drive near Islington because that was where our house had been. Just thinking about it had the walls of the plane closing in around me and I reached for the paper bag in the storage pocket.

The paper crinkled in and out with each breath, the speed too fast for any rational thought and shadows moved around me until two faces came into focus.

“Sweetheart, look at me,” dad said but it was hard to catch the slippery words as my head swam. “Deep breath, in through your nose. Do it with me.” I tried to copy him but my intake was as shaky as my hands. “Good girl, now out through your mouth, nice and slow.”

My clothes felt too tight and my hair clung to my clammy forehead and I tried to brush it away but my hands were shaking too much. The strands of hair remained and I grew frustrated.

“I’ve got it, Bri, just focus on breathing,” Pierre said as he brushed it back for me. A cool damp cloth came to rest on my forehead and I closed my eyes as I leant back in the seat. “Mama’s alright, princesse.”

My eyes flashed open to see Addie looking afraid and I opened my arms for her. “Mummy was just a little overwhelmed, sweetie, I’m sorry it scared you.”

“Was it a bad dream again?” she asked as she clung tight to me.

“Kind of. You know, I could do with your help.” She perked up at the idea of helping and listened intently. “We have no food at home, so I need you to choose where we will have brunch. You don’t have to tell me now, but why don’t you hop back in your seat and have a think about it while we land.”

“Come on, little bug,” dad guided her away, his own worried stare looking back at me as he went.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Pierre asked when we were alone but I shook my head.

“No, I just want to erase the memories of this place.” I tipped my head onto his shoulder and looked up at him. “Tell me that it’s possible.”

He kissed my forehead and I cringed as I realised I was a sweaty mess but he didn’t seem to care as he wrapped an arm around me. “I don’t know about erasing them, but we can make new ones instead.”

–

We landed without a fuss and while we were taxiing to the terminal we started to say our goodbyes before we would part ways. Dad was already out of his seat, ignoring the seatbelt sign, and kneeling next to Granny having quiet words with each other before they both looked at me with concern.

Dad rose to his feet and let Addie climb up for a hug, a bright smile deepening the wrinkles at the corners of Granny’s eyes. “I’m going to miss you, honey. You let me know if you want to come visit alright? We’ll get rid of that posh accent in no time.”

“Don’t want you to go, Granny,” she replied with a trembling lip.

Betty sniffled and blinked away the tears that quickly built along her waterline. “You’re going to make me ruin my makeup.”

“You’d still look beautiful,” I said as I gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for the visit and the ride.”

“Of course, you’re welcome to use it whenever you need, especially trying to juggle work, motherhood and a long distance relationship,” she said looking between Pierre and I. “Take all the help you can get to make it work.”

Pierre’s hand took mine and gave it a squeeze while I answered through my widening smile. “I might take you up on that.”

The Gulfstream had come to a stop and I saw two cars parked outside the little window as the stewardess opened the door. Dad would take one to the domestic terminal for his next flight to Manchester while we would be in the other heading home to Twickenham.

“Oh, and Damien, give my love to Otmar when you see him,” Granny said with a fond smile for the man she thought of as the second child she never had. “I’ll see you in Italy, unless I decide to pop by before that. Never know when I might need a holiday at my age.”

“Mom, you’re retired.”

She scoffed and waved him off. “I retired from designing but I still own the company, dear. I can’t trust anyone else to run it right, unless it’s family.” Her eyes darted to me and I held my hands up.

“Don’t finish that thought, Granny, I’m an engineer - I like tinkering with mechanics and engines.”

“I’ve heard Pierre’s a man of fashion and business or so the internet tells me. You could always marry him. Just an idea, honey.” She sent me a wink and I stumbled over my feet, nearly sending myself out down the steps. “Take care of my precious babies, Mr Gasly.”

“Nothing would make me happier,” he replied with such sincerity that I missed the step in front of me and his hand shot out, catching my arm and pulling me back. “Was that a test?”

“No,” I sighed and blew a strand of hair out of my face with a huff. “That's just how clumsy I am. Let’s go before I break my neck and never get to walk down the aisle Granny’s busy daydreaming about now.”

“I’ve had the design of your wedding dress waiting since you were 18. You tell me when to start sewing it.”

“Bye Granny, bye Matthew!” I concentrated on walking down the stairs with an amused Pierre behind me carrying Addie and dad coming down last.

“Your mother said she’s blocked out her calendar for Wednesday if you can come to dinner.”

I looked at Pierre since he was meant to be flying to Paris on Thursday morning and Addie and I would be flying into Rouen to meet him on Saturday. “It’s a four hour drive.”

“It shouldn’t be difficult to change my flight to leave from Manchester instead, if you want to stay the night?”

I nodded to dad, “it’s a tentative yes but I’ll let you know once he’s checked the flights. Addie say bye-byes to grandad.”

Our farewells were far quicker and our luggage had already been put into the cars by the time we were finished and going our own separate ways. I would have preferred to have my own car but it was at home after getting a cab to the airport when we left two weeks ago but thankfully it wasn’t peak rush hour and it wasn’t too far to get home.

“Addie, have you decided where you want to eat?”

“The dog park!”

Pierre looked aghast as he spun in his passenger seat at the front and I laughed at the face he pulled. “It’s just a cafe that happens to be on the same block as a dog park. It’s called Ivy and she knows it too,” I said as I tickled Addie’s toes for being a little trickster. “It’s just around the corner from our house so we can drop the bags off first and walk.”

He relaxed back into his seat knowing he wasn’t going to be eating in a dog park and I scoured the inside pockets of my handbag until I found my keys. I gripped the remote to the front gate as the driver pulled onto our street and suddenly had a new fear - had I tidied the house before we left? No. The answer was, no. I had been running around like a madwoman trying to get Addie ready so I decided the toys on the floor and unfolded washing on the couch could wait for my return.

“Shit,” I muttered under my breath and Pierre’s eyes shot to me through the little mirror on his sun visor, his eyebrow cocked in a silent question. “My house is a fucking mess.”

Click here for chapter eighteen.

Tagging: @my-only-way-tocooperatewithlife @anotheroneiforgot

#pierre gasly x poc!oc #pierre gasly fanfic #pierre gasly x oc #formula one fanfiction #f1 fanfic #running from the flames

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meet-me-backstage · 1 year ago

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🜸

𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 🎸 Virgin!Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 🎸 You play at the Hideout with your band, Stake For My Valentine, every night - you’re considered the metal queen of the bar and your band are the rulers of the roost, famously loved by the Hideout’s local drunks. However, when a band named Corroded Coffin land their first gig there the sparse crowd warm quickly to the unique and awkward charm of the leading metal head, Eddie Munson.

However, you don’t warm to him so easily - in fact, you don’t warm to him at all. Eddie, on the other hand, worships the ground you walk on and doesn’t hesitate to make it known and leads to a cold rejection from you.

Band rivalry occurs - you vs. Eddie, Stake For My Valentine vs Corroded Coffin.

You hate each other… but one night everything changes when a plan is created and executed by yours and Eddie’s bandmates with the intention of bring you two together and harmony between your bands.

𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒏 𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒊-𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒍𝒐𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕, 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈!

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 🎸 bad language, angst, mention and consumption of drugs, mention and consumption of alcohol, sexual innuendos, mention of blood, Eddie wearing eyeliner bcuz damn😍 and some typical bar fight drunkard violence and SMUT so you must be 18+ to read‼️

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 🎸 6.4K words

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 🎸 bad language, mention of blood, allusion to and brief mention of smut, mention of drugs.

𝐼 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑖 𝑠𝑎𝑖𝑑 𝑏𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑠，𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡， 𝐼 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑔𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑎 𝑠𝑖𝑥 𝑜𝑟 𝑠𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠.

𝐼’𝑑 𝑎𝑙𝑠𝑜 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑝𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑖𝑠𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑛 𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑜𝑢𝑡 － 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑠𝑜 𝑠𝑜 𝑏𝑢𝑠𝑦 𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑙𝑦！

𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 - 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠!

𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲, 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐈 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢-𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝! <𝟑

⇜ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨

𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 • 𝟐𝟕𝐭𝐡 𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 • 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟓

The woods, ever since you’d made a tantrum-filled exit from The Hideout on Tuesday, had become your very own personal haven and you hadn’t been in contact with anybody. You remembered the comfort that such a place could bring, perhaps it was the familiarity of it. Just the touch of bark pressed against your back, dry soil and leaves between your fingers took you back to your school years.

All of the skipped periods, the sneaking out of school - it started at the beginning of 7th grade when Mrs Grabowski, your English teacher, had set you and the rest of your class homework to present the next week as an ice breaker exercise. She wanted a diorama of your perfect day, along with a paragraph of creative writing to go with it.

Your naive and innocent eleven year old self thought that a scene of yourself holding your baby black rabbit, Ozzy (who had little headphones over his ears), at a Black Sabbath concert wouldn’t make the entire class laugh at you.

Everyone stared, laughed, talked about you for months because you didn’t listen to the likes of Dolly Parton or ABBA. It made your heart grow cold.

You chose to be alone. You shut everyone out, built a barricade around yourself that nobody could ever break down. What else could you do? From the moment that you set foot on school grounds, you were the laughing stock. So when you caught a boy that looked to be in the grade below, with his big brown eyes, a buzzcut, clothes that were so baggy on his small frame, staring at you? Claiming to be a fan of Black Sabbath too? How could you believe that he was telling you the truth? You immediately thought that he was making fun of you - because you were the freak, because he was far from the first person to pretend that he was into metal music only to then let you down with a sarcastic tone and a hurtful comment… though in that particular encounter with that boy, you didn’t stick around for the latter.

He blended in with all the other grade A assholes at school who made you feel like you were weird because you didn’t conform to the expectations of the popular crowd.

After that? Well, you realised that you were not the one to blame. If no one else in that darn school thinks that going to a metal concert is not their idea of a perfect day then they can suck it… I’d rather be alone, you remember thinking. You didn’t take any bullshit from anybody, you built a barricade around yourself.

You didn’t realise that it was still there - the barricade. You thought it had long fallen down since the moment you found the girls in Stake For My Valentine, Keith and Rodrick, your adoring fans. Right now, sat against the tree, you realised that it hadn’t gone at all because, until now, you’d forgotten all of those bad encounters at school - that boy with a buzzcut.

That barricade came crashing down the moment that you saw Eddie on that stage on Tuesday and you felt the exact same annoying, prickly little tingle in your stomach. Your nerves were shot, you had to remove yourself from both situations.

You felt vulnerable again and you hated it.

You brought your hands up to your face and nuzzled your nose into your palms with a frustrated sigh.

“Pull yourself together, Vamp,” you mutter to yourself, hitting your forehead lightly with your palm.

So many thoughts whirl around your mind, overwhelming you to the point where your heart was racing.

Why am I letting Eddie Munson get to me?

Why the fuck am I letting him win by hiding out here?

The girls, Keith, Rodrick? They all probably think I’ve been eaten alive by bears or - trapped in another dimension by now.

You shake your head and scramble back up and onto your feet at that thought. It was the worry of the possibility that Stake For My Valentine could be completely kicked off of the rota of gigs at the Hideout because of your absence… and also the growing chance of being eaten by bears the longer you spend in the woods that had you speed-walking in the direction of the bar.

Your arms aggressively swing at your sides, your grip on your songwriting notepad tightens in your hand and you bite your tongue as an attempt to distract you from your rapidly pumping heart and your spinning mind.

Seeing the Hideout before you made you bite your tongue even harder, you were sure that it was starting to draw blood, but you ignored it as you strode towards and into the place.

It is quiet, not unusual for an afternoon, but the bar stool furthest from the stage even lacked a certain local, grotesque Dave, who makes a point of eye-fucking you most nights even though he is old enough to be your grandad, yet you amuse him with flirtatious remarks just so he’ll buy you a drink.

You pout your lips for a brief moment, hoping for just a small taste of a distraction… Rodrick wasn’t even manning the bar as he usually would on a Friday.

You almost missed his smug face. Almost. But then you remembered how he took your Halloween gig out of your hands, so easily placing it into Eddie’s right in front of you… it was like a slap to the face. The worst part was that you’d didn’t even know why he’d done something as cruel as taking your favorite gig night away from you like that in the first place - the look on his face, the mischievous glint in his eyes… it was like he wanted to make you angry that night.

Muffled laughter suddenly erupted, coming from behind the door newly labelled ‘S.F.M.V + C.C’ and distracted you from your thoughts.

Your eyes pierced harshly at the door itself as the laughter continued.

Slowly, you tread your way in the direction of the laughter that grew as even more people seemed to laugh. You carefully grab the door handle, not wanting to make it creak before you even got a glimpse of the scene before you.

All in the matter of a second, you’d turned the handle and kicked the door open.

For a mere moment you were impressed with your ‘hunting’ technique, you were sure you’d acted as fast as a cheetah who’d found it’s dinner.

There they all were, Elektra, Cherie, Alyssa, Rodrick and the Corroded Nobodies.

You cross your arms, watching as each face falls from joy to disbelief.

Alyssa was sat in Gareth’s lap, her arms draped around his neck while he caressed her side with his fingertips. Though their embrace came to a halt when Alyssa saw you, she climbed off of him, stumbling in her step and falling to the floor at his legs.

“Vamp?” Elektra calls, her brown eyes squint, like she was trying to figure out if you were a figment of her imagination. You shift your attention from Alyssa to Elektra, returning her eye contact, “what are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” You tilt your head and accusingly point at each of the four boys sat between the Stake For My Valentine girls, “what are they-,” you glare into the eyes of Eddie Munson, who glares back, “doing here?!”

Everyone in the damn room starts to scratch their necks, avoiding eye contact with you, making you feel all the more frustrated.

You lift your arms up before dropping them back down to your sides, “I didn’t know there was a flea infestation, did I miss the fuckin’ memo?” your voice oozed with sarcasm and you ended with a laugh so sharp it could cut like a knife slicing through the fun that the two bands were having together before you crashed the party.

“Either that or your head is so far up your ass that you couldn’t hear Rodrick tell you that this room is ours now too?” Eddie blurts, his glare even more intense than it was before.

You went blank, finding yourself staring at the way his lips moved with his riled up breathing. You snap yourself out of your stare, shaking your head and giggling, “Good one, Munson - so good I think I’ll add it to my lyric book.”

Eddie’s brows furrow, standing himself up, “Hang on a second, they’re my words - maybe I want to add them to my lyric book.”

You shrug your shoulders with the facade of an innocent smile, “Finders keepers, losers weepers.”

“C’mon, that’s not fair!” He whines, collapsing back into the couch behind him.

Even with the anger in his eyes, they were still as wide as a lost puppy’s. You pout your lips and tilt your head at him, “Awh but it is-,” you walk towards him and bend over so that your face is level with his. Your faces are undeniably close, your noses almost touched and you could feel his breath falter at the lack of a gap between the two of you, “it is too fair,” you boop his nose with the tip of your index finger with a smirk on your lips.

Eddie blinks up at you and you continue to fixate your eyes on him. The two of you too stubborn to look away from each other because if you did you’d lose… and you never lose.

You hear someone clear their throat, making both you and Eddie turn your heads in sync in the direction of your band mates and Rodrick, who were all blinking at the two of you.

“Should we leave-,” Elektra, who had been the one to break the silence with a cough, gestures between her and everyone else on the couch, “before the two of you start making out or are you gonna quit eye-fucking and tell us where you’ve been the last few days?”

You grimace, quickly taking a step away from Eddie, “First of all - ew? As if I’d even think about making out with that loser,” you point at him while directing your glare at Elektra now.

Eddie huffs a laugh, interrupting your staring competition with Elektra, “Exactly, she’s like - the biggest bitch in the universe. Why would I wanna kiss her?”

You roll your eyes, “Finally, we agree on something - maybe we can be civil after all!”

The boys, minus Eddie, from Corroded Coffin all sighed in relief and their faces lit up.

“Really?! So we can be friends?!” Gareth asks excitedly while glancing down at Alyssa, but receives a gentle slap on the top of the head from Eddie.

An evil, but convincing smile graced your lips, “Yeaahhh! I was thinking now that we’re friends we can all get high and braid each other’s hair while we confess our deepest darkest secrets,” you enthuse in a high pitched voice, all while watching the Corroded Coffin boy’s excited faces slowly fall.

Gareth nods slowly, “You were being sarcastic,” he mumbles under his breath.

“She was being sarcastic,” Eddie repeats in an ‘I told you so’ tone.

“I knew that.”

You grin toothily before resuming your response to Elektra’s question, “Now that we’ve got that clear - I was in the woods writing new material for us to practice,” you lift the arm that’s still grasping your lyric book and you wave it before throwing it for her to catch, “Have a look through ‘em, see what you think.”

She leans back from the momentum of the notebook hitting her chest, clutching it to her heart with both hands. She raises one brow at you, leaning forward again, “Hang on a second, you were - writing… in the woods?”

“That’s what I said,” you nod with a shrug.

“And you didn’t think to call any of us?”

“I dunno - I guess I got lost in the sound of silence, the beauty of my surroundings and I had to write so... I forgot, I’m sorry,” you explain, now looking down at the floor nervously.

“We thought you’d been abducted by aliens!” Alissa blurts, waving her hands around her face as she mimics the sounds of a spaceship, making Gareth chuckle.

You send a fleeting glare Gareth’s way, making him hiccup and Alyssa blush.

“No, but I probably would’ve been better off if I had been abducted by aliens,” you raise your brows, continuing to stare between Alissa and Gareth, who seem to understand that you were talking about them, and they frown in response.

“These are good, Vamp,” Rodrick announces. Your eyes land on the man that had been silently enjoying your displeasure towards the situation. You notice that your notebook had found its way into his hands and he was casually flicking through the pages, “He’s just a loser with a guitar, thinks he’ll go far but he’ll be endlessly chasin’ cars,” Rodrick places his index finger on his chin and cheekily grins up at you, “I wonder who that’s about?”

You glance at Eddie, unconsciously answering Rodrick’s question.

You didn’t even get to soak up Eddie’s reaction before Rodrick continues to read from your notebook, “And when you think of me, I hope it kills your desire for metal-.” You snatch the notebook from his hands. “Hey - I was reading that!”

“I need to talk to you. Now,” you state, pointing over your shoulder with your thumb.

Rodrick holds his hands up in surrender, “Okay okay - keep your head on.”

He follows you as you stomp your way back through the door and into the bar area, which was still empty.

“What’s wrong, V?” He asks, now entering behind the bar, standing opposite you as you lean onto the bar from the other side.

You roll your eyes, “I don’t know, Roddie. Do you think you’re fuckin’ funny?”

“Woah - I’m smelling a lot of hostility right now,” Rodrick too, leans onto the counter, trying to close the gap between the two of you only for you to step away from the bar.

“You had no right to read out my lyrics like that,” you poke at your chest with your index finger while spitting out each word at him.

“Soon enough you’ll be singing them on stage right? So what’s the difference?” He furrows his brows at you.

You shake your head in disbelief, “they are drafts and they were meant for mine and the band’s eyes only - for now,” you slam your hands down on the table and lean closer to him on your own terms. Your noses almost touch, making him smirk and lean even more forward in an attempt to kiss you. “Why the fuck did you take the Halloween gig away from me and hand it to them on a goddamn silver platter?” Rodrick pauses, his lips a few centimetres away from yours, “Do you get off on pissing me off? Is that it?”

“Maybe,” Rodrick chuckles mischievously before closing the small distance between you and pecking you on the lips.

You slide your hand along the bar, colliding your palm with his chest and pushing him away, cutting the kiss short, “Am I fuckin’ laughing?” You ask with a harsh stare before gesturing between yourself and the backstage door, “we’ve spent months rehearsing for that gig and you think it’s fuckin’ funny to jeopardise our plans for some newbies you picked up from the crowd at my band’s gig?”

Rodrick sighs loudly, his entire demeanour deflating, “Look, I wanted to get a rise out of you - but not for a joke or some prank like you think.”

You squint your eyes, “I’m not following.”

“Attention - I did it for attention, alright? God knows this place needs it,” Rodrick admits, looking down at the wilting wood of the bar top.

“I still don’t follow.”

Rodrick nods, still refusing to look you in the eye, “People are half water half gossip junkies, right?”

You roll your eyes, “Just spit it out, Rodrick!”

Rodrick leans closer to you again, “They crave drama - the moment they witness the smallest hint of a competition they come in swarms. This - battle - between Stake For My Valentine and Corroded Coffin - is exactly what this bar needs-.”

Your face falls even more, if that’s even possible, “No, Stake For My Valentine is what it needs, the crowd loves us and we keep ‘em coming back, don’t we?”

“You’re - half - right, they do love you and you do keep ‘em coming, but that’s not enough,” Rodrick admits with a side frown, watching as you pull away from him again, “we need more to keep this bar going in the long run.”

“But K said-.”

“That you brought life back into the bar? Yeah, my dad is right, you did - past tense.”

You bite your lips together while he speaks, fighting the urge to scream at him. Instead, you take a deep breath and take a moment to regain your composure, “So what do you suggest we do to reignite the spark oh wise one?”

Rodrick places both his elbows on the bar and places his hands down flat against it before starting a drumroll. The tempo slowly rises in pace, but you are already writhing with impatience, so you roll your eyes and glare at his hands as he speedily and loudly taps on the wooden surface until suddenly coming to a halt, “a battle of the bands!”

You look at him as if to say ‘really?’, and shake your head, “That sounds a whole lot like high school all over again, I did not drop out for one of your shitty schemes-.”

“Hear me out, V-,” his eyes widen, drawing you in. You have your mouth bitten shut by your teeth again and you hum with a hesitant nod, “All you have to do between tonight and Halloween is play swapsies of the stage with Corroded Coffin and rile Eddie up, act like you hate him, his band, his music - enough to make people start talking-.”

“But I do hate him, his band and his music. I’m pretty sure the feelings are mutual too - about me anyway,” you briefly recall how starstruck he’d acted when he first saw you perform, poor baby, you think to yourself with an internal smirk.

“So your job is pretty easy, don’t ya think?” Tempting. You raise your brows, intrigue crystal clear on your features, yet you stay silent, “C’mon Vamp - face it, you want the competition, you thrive on it!”

You lean closer with your brows still raised, your lips centimetres away from his, “I can’t imagine your dad being on board with your little scheme-.”

“Nooo - which is why he won’t know about it-.”

“Rodrick, I hate to break it to you but he works here every damn day - he will know.”

His lips tug up at one side of his mouth, “Oh yeah? You see him right now? Because I sure as hell don’t.”

Your eyes flicker to his lips as you tilt your head slightly to your right, “What are you not telling me?”

“You’re so so so behind, V - he’s away until next month and has left me in charge of the place… and if everything goes according to plan, by the time he comes back the Hideout will be thriving with new and local faces, he’ll have the bar he’s always dreamed of and he won’t be on my back anymore,” his voice gradually becomes loud with excitement and the perfect eyeliner around his widened eyes becomes more prominent.

“There it is!” You cackle loudly and his face drops, “I knew there had to be something in it for you.”

Rodrick shakes his head before unexpectedly taking your hands in his and squeezing your fingers while staring into your eyes, “There’s something in it for the both of us.”

You look down at your hands being clasped by his before glancing up at him with your brows furrowed. “What’s in it for me then, hm?” you slur flirtatiously as you lean your body more over the bar, your chest pressing against the top of his hands.

“I was er - left with some very strict rules that I am willing to break just for you,” Rodrick mumbles softly with a smug grin, his lips brushing against yours, “the Halloween gig is already yours, it will always be yours-.”

“But you said-.”

“I know what I said,” Rodrick sighs with a nod, “I said it because it was what my dad wanted, not me, he thought you needed a break.”

“Asshole,” you mutter under your breath.

“Right?” He sighs, letting out a relieved, yet nervous chuckle.

You send him a playful glare that sends him into a frenzy of confusion, “You’re an asshole too, y’know?” Rodrick squints his eyes at you while in deep thought. “I saw the look on your face when you told Eddie he had the gig - you wanted to piss me off you piece of crap,” you pull away from his touch and reach for his shirt, balling it into your fist.

“Woah woah woah,” he grunts as you pull him towards you, “I think you’re hot when you’re all worked up, lock me up if that’s a crime - jeez.”

“Fuck you, Rodrick. It was - too far,” your voice falters for a moment and your grip on his shirt loosens.

“I know. I’m sorry, V,” he admits lowly, breaking eye contact with you before bringing one of his hands up to gently place on your cheek, “It’s rightfully yours, the gig, that’s why I’m giving it back to you.”

You decide to lean into his touch, tilting your head into his palm as he utters the final few words. “So you can be reasonable sometimes,” you mumble softly, turning your face to press your lips against his palm, “But there’s no need to do that for me, Roddie.”

Rodrick’s brows furrow as he caresses your cheekbone with his thumb, “What do you mean?”

“I want the competition to be real, let the crowd decide who they want to see on Halloween,” you state boldly, holding eye contact with him without blinking, “You know I don’t do cheating or shortcuts but-,” you press another seductive kiss to his palm, making him gulp, “your heart is in the right place - soooo-,” you continue to press kisses while looking into his dark, blown out eyes, “I was thinking… I could stay the night.”

“Here?” He blinks.

You hum in agreement.

“With me?” He blinks again.

You subconsciously roll your eyes, pressing one last kiss to his hand before you let out a muffled giggle against his skin, “Yes, with you - who else, dummy?” You press your lips against his slightly chapped ones before he can answer your question, he makes a muffled noise before melting at the sensation of your lips touching his completely.

He exhales into the kiss, making you smirk against his lips. You take the opportunity to gain more control by pushing yourself more against him, making yourself taller over the bar and just as you nudge your tongue between his lips you hear a cough in the direction of the ‘backstage’ door.

You and Rodrick’s eyes snap open and the sight of his features so close to your face makes your heart pump faster. In a whim of pure fright, you jump away and blink frantically at the source of the cough you’d heard.

Munson. “You,” your voice could not have sounded more irritated if you tried.

Eddie’s eyes were wide and fixated on you, his lips were quivering, “I - er - I - um-.”

Your lips tug themselves into a smirk when you realise that the scene of you and Rodrick making out on the bar had left him utterly flustered and speechless. It was as if he’d never seen something of that nature before - the locking of lips and the collision of bodies seemed to be a place of uncharted water that he had not yet explored… and probably won’t ever - because how could anyone ever possibly want Eddie Munson in the same room as them, let alone their bed? Not with that face, that hair, that stare, that voice, those fingers, those tattoos - and especially not with those stupid jokes.

“Sorry - I was just - er - leaving - yeah - leaving,” Eddie nods insistently, it was almost as if he had to convince himself too.

“Awh,” you pout, “don’t leave on our account, we’re taking this-,” you step towards Rodrick, giving him a wink before glancing Eddie’s way with a flirtatious smile, “upstairs.”

“Wha-,” Rodrick’s eyes are wide now.

The sound of your worn black boots stomping on the floor silence Rodrick. You internally rub your hands together because you have to walk past Eddie in order to get to the door behind the bar that leads to the apartment upstairs that Rodrick and Keith reside in. Eddie’s lips were parted and his eye contact with you faltered, those brown orbs flickered shyly to your fishnet wrapped legs.

You fought the urge to cackle evilly because you knew exactly what you were doing to the poor guy, yet you still leant as possibly close as you could to his ear, “We’ll be back in an hour,” you whisper before skipping away, behind the bar and pulling Rodrick through the door leading to his home, you give Eddie a playful wave while doing so.

Just fifteen minutes later, Rodrick collapsed onto the mattress beside you with a fucked-out, blissful smile on his face and trails of sweat running from his hairline down his temple.

And you? You felt nothing. You didn’t even finish.

While you blankly stared up at the ceiling with the duvet draped over your waist, you wondered what exactly drove you to drag Rodrick upstairs in the first place if you didn’t really want to fuck Rodrick again.

Perhaps it was the smell of the bar that drove you up there, or a spur of the moment rush of adrenaline that disappeared the moment you left Eddie stood at the bar alone… you shook your head, trying to stop the ongoing battle between each of your thoughts that were starting to make you sweat with fear - not pleasure or exhaustion like you’d hoped.

While Rodrick moved his hips back and forth between your legs, you were as still as a plank of wood… bored. You remembered your first time with him being a little more exciting, but maybe that was because it was entirely new for you. Now you could predict every move he made until the very moment he spilled himself inside the rubber and laid next to you.

You could feel the mattress dip next to you as he manoeuvred himself to be closer, he whispers in your ear, “You were amazing.”

There they are, the same three words he uttered in an exhausted whisper when you first fucked.

You bottled up the urge to groan, or laugh, or scream because you did nothing to deserve those words - all you did was put on your greatest acting voice and scrunch your face up in order to make him think that you’d reached your own high, the rest was all him because he insisted on taking control, desperately thrusting himself in and out of you for five minutes without any foreplay because he couldn’t last.

Nothing. The word repeats in your head like an echo, but instead it gets louder and louder until you abruptly sit yourself up, making Rodrick’s arm fall onto the duvet instead of on your stomach.

“You a little - overcome?” You hear Rodrick’s voice and a punch-worthy giggle over your shoulder.

“Totally,” you sigh, light heartedly chuckling afterwards.

Rodrick, unconvinced, sits himself up too and turns his abdomen your way, “What’s up? Was I so good that you had to flinch away from me?”

“Rodrick,” his name comes out of your mouth as a sigh and you bring a hand up to your forehead, trying to hide the doubt that is written all over your face. Do I really want Rodrick? You bring your other hand to cover your face. Why am I even asking myself that? Your hands fall from your face and land on your lap with a thud, “Do you feel - weird?”

“About what?” Rodrick leans more forward so that his face is in sight.

“This - us,” you motion between yours and Rodrick’s bodies with a trembling hand.

His eyes squint at you, trying to read you. You felt vulnerable again, being scrutinised under his gaze and you suddenly regretted even starting the conversation, “Er - a little?” Your heart, to your surprise, begins to race, “Only because - well - you know how my dad reacted before, but that just makes - this - sneaking around-,” a smile starts to form on his face, “more exciting, right?”

Your eyes slowly trail to meet his, you nod in time with your heartbeat, rapidly, “R-right,” you exhale deeply, “yeah, it’s so fun.”

“Exactly,” Rodrick’s smile widens before kissing your cheekbone.

You force a smile, sheepishly catching his eyes, “I’m gonna go back downstairs.” The bed creaked as you pushed yourself off and back onto your feet, stepping into your boots. Your legs shook and you stumbled on your feet for a moment because Rodrick hadn’t exactly gone easy on you, you could already feel a bruise forming on your inner thigh, “gotta practice for tonight.”

“Sure,” Rodrick mumbles. You can feel his gaze burning into your naked back, making you smirk at the rocket patterned wallpaper of his bedroom.

You bend over, grabbing the shirt you’d thrown on the floor, then pull up the fishnet tights and skirt you were wearing until Rodrick hastily pulled them down to your ankles and pushed you onto the bed.

“See you later, perv,” you mutter, glancing over your shoulder at Rodrick, who was shamelessly staring - just as you predicted.

As you walk out of the room, coming face to face with the wall and the top of the narrow staircase leading back down to the bar, you hear Rodrick call out, “You love it!” You laugh as you run down the stairs, the weight of your boots pulling you down so fast that you have to press your forearms against the walls either side of you for guidance.

Your fingertips brush against the stone of the wall where the wallpaper had ripped away just as you reach the door behind the bar. There are two windows in the door, both with red and green stained glass with a diamond pattern.

Through one of windows you could see the silhouettes of people walking towards the exit, but you couldn’t quite make out who exactly they belonged to.

Intrigued, you reach for the door handle and slowly pull the door open so that it’s ajar.

When you had half your face peeking behind the door, you noticed that it was Travis, Gareth and Jeff leaving the Hideout.

“Do you really think so?” Gareth asks Jeff with hope in his eyes.

“Duh! Anyone with eyes can tell, her jaw almost dropped to the floor at your drum solo last night,” Jeff states enthusiastically, nudging his friend’s shoulder.

Gareth chuckles while shaking his head, “I dunno, dude-.”

“C’mon, who else laughs as hard as she does when you do that lame drumstick magic trick, or agrees to reenact Garfield scenes with you?” Jeff asks and you bite your lips together to stop yourself from hysterically laughing from behind the door.

“Maybe she’s just being nice?” Gareth looks down at the floor.

“Or maybe you’re letting her friend get in your head?”

Gareth shakes his head in complete denial, “What? Vamp? Never.”

Jeff raises his brows, tilting his head, making no effort to hide his skepticism, “So you’ll ask her on a date?”

“When Eddie and Vamp get their act together - that’s when I’ll ask her on a date,” Gareth finally looks up at Jeff.

“So it is about Va-.”

You bit your lips together even harder. Now you knew that you didn’t have to worry about Gareth and Alyssa getting together because Eddie and I will never see eye to eye. In the fraction of a second, just to try and get a closer look, you opened the door a little more, only for it to creak loudly. Damn it! You fling the door open casually, gaining the attention of Travis, Jeff and Gareth, but they are quick to turn on the heel and scuttle out of the Hideout.

“Bye kiddos!” You wave with a toothy smile on your face, “See you tonight if it’s not past your bedtime!” You stare at the door as it swings closed with a bang.

Where’s Eddie? You wonder if he’d left because of you and Rodrick - you smile even wider. That’s the best thing to happen to me all week, all of them leaving the Hideout - maybe they’ve gone for good-

“An hour?” A familiar, boyish, but deep voice sounds behind you along with footsteps that drew closer and closer.

You knew who it was from a mile off, the boy who you could never catch a break from. His presence behind you made your heart quicken, your stomach tingle and your smile to drop. You didn’t want to turn around - I’m getting so sick of his stupid face - but you knew you had to, otherwise he’d have the upper hand, so you fought those feelings you hated and turned to face him by your hips.

A small smile was evident on his plump pink lips, making his dimples visible. Your fierce eyes took in his frame, the white vest he was wearing that was deteriorating with holes and small off-white stains all over it - they showed his tattoos perfectly, a spider and a demonic-looking ghoul on his chest, bats, a puppet-master and a dragon on his right arm, your eyes trailed and admired each of them until a nervous cough interrupted thejourney. “W-what?” Your eyes slowly make their way back up to meet his brown ones, but not before you appreciate the way his collarbones flawlessly frame the ink on his chest… Focus, Vamp.

Eddie’s bottom lip was parted away from his top one, watching your every move, making you silently scold yourself for letting your eyes so obviously wander over him. “You said that you’d be back in an hour - twenty minutes ago,” his words come out in a playful tone, he resumes his steps towards you until he’s stood directly in front of you and you’re the one looking up at him like a lost puppy.

Your breath hitches, “s-so what?” I didn’t know hearts could beat this fast?

He shakes his head, his hair flowing with his movements and a curl falls over his eye, “It’s just funny,” he huffs a short laugh, placing one of his hands over his face, the glimmer of his chunky silver rings hypnotise you.

You scoff, “What is?” You ask as you scrunch your nose and glare up at him.

He stays silent, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down while mirroring the glare that you’d given him, “the game you’re playing.”

“Oh yeah? What game is it that you think I’m playing then, huh?”

Eddie breaks eye contact with you now, instead he explores every other feature on your face, “You know you’re - really - fuckin’ talented and you use it for - bad, like Iggwilv, who I conquered with a roll of twenty last week, by the way,” he rambles passionately, waving his hands around until he realises that you’re looking at him blankly, but most importantly, he’s wavering off of the argument he was trying to make. He exhales slowly and looks down at his sneakers, “Ever since that day at the lockers when you did that thing you always do - roll your eyes and stomp away in those boots. At first I thought it was the buzzcut - even I hated that thing,” he chuckles and shakes his head, “It didn’t matter if you hated me or not, or that you ignored me after that… I thought about you all the time, even when you left Hawkins High,” He fleetingly looks up to meet your eyes with his big ones, but his features harden when he sees that you’re still showing no expression on your face. Eddie sniffles, shrugging his shoulders, “Seeing you again, I hoped that we could finally be friends. I really don’t know what I did to make you mad, but- I’m here for the music, and there’s nothing you and your stupid loud boots can say or do to stop Corroded Coffin from playing here, m’kay?” His chest is heaving and his shoulders visibly relax, it’s as if he’d been bottling up those words for more than just twenty minutes, but for many years.

You blink up at him with your lips parted. Your chest heaved too and you watched him as he began to pull away because during his speech he’d unconsciously gotten closer, making you feel hotter in temperature.

You realised just how cold the room actually was when he walked away, following the footsteps that his band-mates had made just minutes ago, but what felt like hours to you.

Say something! I can’t let him have the last word! Your mouth stays silent, agape through the familiar swing and shut sound of the door and it’s too late, Eddie is gone.

His words played on your mind from the very moment he hammered them into your head. They repeated themselves as you rehearsed your new lyrics, as you sang in front the familiar crowd you attracted. It had been days since your last gig so you threw your entire self into it. You played until your fingers bled from running them along the guitar strings so harshly and you spat out your new lyrics about Eddie passionately while searching for him in the crowd… but he was nowhere to be seen.

Your eyes frantically examined each face and searched the booth that he usually sat in with his band, but Rodrick sat there alone tonight.

A frown forced its way onto your lips and you look back down at your beloved Pink Special, belting a guitar solo, shaking your head and scrunching your eyes shut… but it didn’t give you the satisfaction that it usually would. You had unfinished business with Eddie and you couldn’t believe that you had let him just walk away like that.

You played your last note on the guitar, dropping to your knees and throwing your head back.

Cheers could be heard, but Eddie’s words continued to echo all around your mind and they were stronger than the noise coming from your fans.

Screw it! Maybe I do need him- the competition.

⇝ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆!!!!! 𝐈𝐭'𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲 <𝟑

𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 ’𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒’ 𝐨𝐫 ’𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧’ 𝐭𝐚𝐠-𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰!

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ↯

𝑩𝑨𝑻𝑻𝑳𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑩𝑨𝑵𝑫𝑺

@big-ope-vibes @majesticjellyfishzombie @b-ritney @joyfulcandyrunaway @sidthedollface2 @sillypurplemurple @aysheashea @spookycreepycookie @bookobsessedfreak @lefdepard @aol19 @hllfrclb @weirdkidfromtheupsidedown @lexi--a

𝑬𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒆 𝑴𝒖𝒏𝒔𝒐𝒏

@introvertedmouse @munsonology @fastnights @kathieycarrerarosshley @marjoriea13 @goldengunspinkrosses-blog @lolalanaie @neteyamsluvts

🜸

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angelcake555 · 8 days ago

Text

American Playground

Warm purgatory sits in the glossy cement

of Saint Sauveur Street.

High on lollipops and barbecue smoke,

we reach for the lemon tree of livinghood

whilst Mrs. Pauper sits on her cross-bedazzled porch

and cusses sin at us.

Shopping cart flew miraculously down the hushed up road,

where cars speak only in violence and benzin.

I feel my hands dig underneath the pavement

and reach the soft sopping soil as I soon waste

into a stubborn root.

She’s got a new bracelet, which melts

into her raw wrist.

She’s got a spine twisted with make-belief,

carrying her brother on her back.

Whilst her Mama’s out

searching for new money.

Her face is olive from a fortnight of golden streaks

and I reach into my hair between

the butterfly clips and my apathy

to remember to replicate that same grin.

We eat ice cream in a frying pan

of our own fiction (we never sit in silence).

The rooftops are bejeweled by the

echo of our innocence. Magic loom bands

intertwine us to a rusting bike

which smells like copper and father whiskey.

I wish to stay here forever.

By midnight we are dancing

to the rhythm of a siren.

New and ripe sundress

which flowers when she spins away.

And I ask her if she ever wonders

if Angels really listen to prayers

And she tells me that

she’s never been too sure.

Poem by me <3

#poets corner #writers and poets #thought daughter #female hysteria #girlhood #girlblog #girl interrupted syndrome #hell is a teenage girl #poetry #poets on tumblr #feminism #literature #english lit student #english #english student #dark academia

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themirokai · 6 months ago

Text

The Bell Bird - Chapter 3

You'll need to start with Chapter 1, and then go to Chapter 2.

In this chapter, we learn what sort of help the Bell Bird requires.

Chapter is 2,301 words.

Read it below or on AO3.

~*~

Greg stepped back only when he saw Romer hovering behind Jenny Lindish and felt Mycroft’s hand on his arm. Mycroft stepped around him, walking stick in hand.

“If you require my assistance, Ms. Lindish, then I believe the conversation should move to a more private venue.”

Greg looked around. Other audience members were glancing at them, but it was difficult to take one’s eyes off Lindish, even if you didn’t think she was an assassin.

“I quite agree, Mr. Holmes. I have a suite at the Langham Hotel, which should be suitable.”

Behind her Romer scoffed, and she turned to look at him, then raised a manicured eyebrow. “Hm, I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.” She looked like she wanted to swallow him whole, but Romer just rolled his eyes.

“Under the circumstances, it would be better for us to speak at my office, Ms. Lindish,” Mycroft said, pulling her attention back to him.

Lindish’s smile did not recede, but did seem to freeze. “Am I being detained, Mr. Holmes?”

Mycroft tipped his head to the side a little: a picture of innocent curiosity. “Whatever would I detain you for, Ms. Lindish?”

Her expression became serious. “I can assure you that I have never done anything to provoke the British government’s ire.”

“Excellent.” Mycroft’s smile did not reach his eyes. “Then a cordial conversation at my office will provide no difficulty.”

Lindish gave a tight-lipped smile and a small nod.

“I assume you’ll want to change out of that magnificent gown,” Mycroft continued, “and that will give Moon Moth the opportunity to ensure that you are not armed. She and her colleague will bring you to me when you are ready.”

Lindish turned to Ahmad, her wide smile back. “You’ll be accompanying me to my dressing room, agent?”

“Yes, and I’d advise against doing anything we’ll both regret,” Ahmad said, her expression bright and predatory in a way Greg had never seen before.

“Well then, Mr. Holmes,” Lindish said, turning back to Mycroft, “I look forward to continuing the conversation.” She turned to Greg. “Goodbye, Detective Inspector.” She gave a little curtsey, and turned away.

Outside the theatre a few minutes later, Mycroft sent a text message, and Agent Yang seemed to appear out of thin air, just as Lucy pulled up in the car.

“Yang, I want you and Wilkinson to stay with Romer and Ahmad,” Mycroft told her.

Yang frowned. “Sir? That leaves no one else on you. You’re exposed.”

“I am aware of that. But Simmons is just going to drop Gregory off at the house—”

“Like hell she is!” Greg cut in.

“Gregory—”

“You can’t just pull me into spying and then dump me at the house when it gets interesting!” Greg protested. “I’m invested now. I want to know what she wants. Plus,” Greg ploughed on, ignoring Mycroft’s sour look, “if you’re leaving your security behind, then we are absolutely going straight to your office. Together.”

Mycroft took a deep breath and gave Greg an evaluating look. “Fine,” he said. “Simmons will take Gregory and I straight to the office, and between the three of us, I am perfectly safe. While I believe the Bell Bird has no ill intentions and would not risk doing anything untoward on British soil, I do want Ahmad and Romer to have backup in case I have read the situation erroneously.”

Yang hesitated, looking from Lucy, to Greg, to Mycroft, then nodded and opened the rear door of the car for them.

____

When Anthea’s voice came through the intercom in Mycroft’s office to inform them that his guest had arrived, Greg half-perched himself on a windowsill behind and to the side of Mycroft’s desk. Mycroft glanced at him, then told Anthea to send them in.

The door opened and Ahmad entered, followed by Jenny Lindish and Romer. Romer grinned when he caught sight of Greg and winked at him.

Lindish was wearing emerald green stilettos, tight dark blue jeans, an emerald silk blouse, and a vibrant purple blazer. Her hair had been restyled to fall in long soft waves, curled at the bottom like a 1950s starlet. She was gorgeous.

“Please have a seat, Ms. Lindish.” Mycroft gestured to the chairs in front of his desk.

“Thank you, Mr. Holmes,” she said with a disarming smile as she sat.

Ahmad and Romer remained standing behind her.

“Now,” Mycroft said, “how can I help you?”

Lindish took a deep breath and looked only at Mycroft. “My real name is Jenny Eskalia. My father was David Eskalia.”

Mycroft’s mouth fell open with a gasp. “Oh. Oh my dear.” He leaned forward. “Of course. You have his eyes. I don’t know how I never noticed before.”

“My father told me before he died,” she continued, “that if I was ever in trouble that I should come to you and you would help me.”

Mycroft took a deep steadying breath, and even from the side Greg could tell that his eyes were damp. “Of course. Whatever is in my power.”

Jenny was about to speak again when Romer jumped in. “Hang on. Who’s David Eskalia?”

Mycroft glanced at Romer but held eye contact with Jenny as he spoke. “He was an American CIA agent. He saved my life. Twice. He was a good man and a good friend.” Mycroft closed his eyes and shook his head, then looked at Jenny again. “I mourned your father’s death and the fact that I could not do for him what he had done for me. How can I help you?”

Jenny took a breath and drew herself up. “You’re well aware of my alternate career, otherwise you wouldn’t have sent Moon Moth to monitor me.”

It wasn’t quite like her stage persona: a presentation, perhaps, instead of a performance, Greg thought.

“Since I was a girl,” Jenny continued, “my father trained me in the art of spy craft. He wanted me to follow in his footsteps to join the CIA. And for much of my life that’s what I wanted too. He was killed when I was in college and I… I will admit that I used the skills he taught me to ends that he may not approve of.”

She paused with a worried look at Mycroft. His fingers were steepled in front of his face, and he nodded. Jenny went on. “Once I had eliminated the person who had killed my father, I knew I wouldn’t be able to join the CIA, and I didn’t want to anymore. I liked the freedom of working for myself, and I wanted to pursue singing as well. Singing recitals is not a lucrative career, but as you are aware I supplement my income.”

Romer snorted. “That what you call it?”

Mycroft shot him a stern look and Jenny continued.

“I can afford to be choosy about my targets. I only eliminate bad people. Crime lords, war lords, torturers, dictators. But the problem is that bad people often have other bad people who are invested in them.”

“It’s almost like being a murderer is complicated,” Romer muttered.

Jenny ignored him. “A few months ago, I eliminated Eli the Spider, the head of the Silver Drivers.”

“They’re currently running Las Vegas,” Mycroft said, presumably for Greg’s benefit.

“Apparently, as part of his bid to seize power, the Spider’s second in command swore that he would have my head. And while the Silver Drivers only control Las Vegas, they also have access to the INS, so I can’t get home without being detected now that the border entries are equipped with the new facial recognition technology. That would be bad enough, but the Silver Drivers have also sent the Black Tornado to hunt me internationally.”

“What’s the Black Tornado?” Greg asked.

“An assassin who is much, much scarier than the Bell Bird,” Ahmad said.

“To put it plainly, Mr. Holmes,” Jenny said, “I am cut off from many of my resources, including my home, I am up against a much more powerful foe and—” she swallowed, blinked hard, her eyes misty, "—and I am scared. I know my profession may be objectionable to you – or at least the fact that I ply it for myself instead of a government – but for the sake of my father I ask you to help me. Please.”

Mycroft took his handkerchief out of his waistcoat pocket and reached across the desk to hand it to her.

“How do we know that you’re the boss’s friend’s daughter?” Romer spoke up. “You could just be some random assassin who found out about their relationship and is trying to use it now you’re up shit creek.”

Jenny, having dabbed her eyes, looked straight at Mycroft. “Mr. Holmes has a scar the shape of a triangle on his right side. It is from an ice pick.”

Greg inhaled. He knew the exact scar she was talking about, had traced it with his fingers many times as he held Mycroft. Mycroft had even told him it was from an ice pick, but hadn’t revealed any further information.

“My father was the reason Mr. Holmes did not bleed to death on that mountain,” Jenny continued. “And he was the only person in the world other than Mr. Holmes who knows it. He would not have told anyone except for someone he truly trusted. Like his daughter.”

“You could have killed his daughter,” Romer said. “Maybe even tortured her first.”

Jenny turned in her seat to look at Romer. “You are very protective of your boss, Mr….”

Romer smirked. “Yeah, like I’m giving you a name. It’s bad enough you know Moon Moth and Mr. Holmes.”

She gave him a prim little smile. “Well, may I say that your dedication is admirable.”

Romer sneered at the back of her head as she turned back to face Mycroft. “I will submit to a DNA test or any examination of my identity that you care to propose.”

“She is who she says she is, Glasgow,” Mycroft said quietly. “David told me his daughter had a voice like an angel. And as I said, she has his eyes.” He looked straight at Jenny. “He was very proud of you.”

“Sir!” Romer protested.

Mycroft held up a hand to forestall further comment. “We will confirm with a DNA test. Now, Ms. Eskalia, it seems you have gotten in over your head. I have a way out for you, but it means giving up your career as a free agent and it means doing things my way. Are you willing?”

“Can I still sing?” Jenny asked tentatively.

“I would no sooner deprive the world of your voice than I would deprive it of the Mona Lisa,” Mycroft told her. “But you will be working for me. First—”

“Sir!” Romer cut in again. “You’re not seriously going to hire her! She’s an assassin! A murderer! We bring people like her down; we don’t work with them!”

“Agent Glasgow,” Mycroft’s voice was acidic, “A black and white view of who we can and cannot work with will serve you very poorly if you wish to be a successful intelligence officer.”

The devastation was plainly written on Romer’s face. “Mr. Holmes…”

“In fact,” Mycroft continued, “Moon Moth will be taking the lead on the operation I have in mind. You may go start on the written report from this evening.”

“But—”

“That will be all, Glasgow. Thank you.”

Romer, looking utterly defeated, left the room, and Greg couldn’t help but follow him.

“Peter,” Greg called once they were in the hallway beyond Anthea’s desk.

Romer turned around, his expression resigned. “What do you want, Silver Fox?”

Greg closed the distance between them. “You’re not getting replaced, kid.”

“What?” Romer said with a smile he clearly didn’t feel. “Who said anything about getting replaced?”

“You’re jealous of the new kid,” Greg said. “It’s natural.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Silver Fox,” Romer sniffed. “You’re sounding just as crazy as your boyfriend in there who apparently is perfectly happy to work with assassins as long as they have a good enough sob story! I mean, we haven’t even ruled out that she’s after him! She could be attacking right now with only Ahmad to hold her off!”

“You know,” Greg said, ignoring the outburst, “he said you’re his favourite.”

“What?” Romer reeled. “When? That’s not true.”

“It is.” Greg chuckled. “That night when the Russians went after him and you got cut up? He was so worried about you when that fight was going on. Told me that he cares about you and you’re his favourite.”

Romer’s mouth hung open a little but he quickly schooled his expression. “Well, it sounds like he really cared about David Eskalia, too. Did you know about that?”

“No,” Greg said gently, “but neither of us are young. We both have people in our past. Hell,” he chuckled, “I’ve got an ex-wife.”

“Really?” Romer frowned.

“Yeah. We were terrible at being married to each other, but I did love her.”

“Huh.”

Romer leaned against the wall, staring at the floor.

“Your code name is Glasgow?” Greg asked after a moment.

“Nah,” Romer looked up at him with a grin. “It was when I was in training, but I’ve got a proper one now that I’m a full agent. Boss didn’t tell her my real code.”

“Go on,” Greg said, “tell me the proper one.”

“‘S ‘Bloodhound.’”

“‘Cause you’re good at finding people.”

“That’s me.” Romer took a deep breath, looked away from Greg and back again. “You really think she’s on the level, Silver Fox? The Bell Bird?”

“Yeah,” Greg told him, “I do.”

Romer stared at the floor for another moment. Then, “He really said that? About me?”

“Yeah, kid. He did.”

Romer finally looked up with a smile. “That’s alright then.”

~*~

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 4 is now up.

#his professional capacity #mirokai writes #mystrade #mycroft holmes #greg lestrade #bbc sherlock

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