#and like eventually he can forgive them bc he has the rest of eternity. and when you live forever you can take all the time you need | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

arteacactus · 4 years

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Can we get a sick fic Janus hiding in his room until someone else breaks down the door? Cause he thought no one would care

this is so out of nowhere bc i like never get fic requests here anymore it’s like always on my sideblog hissceit ,, but it’s 10000% welcome and appreciated JDFJFD thank u .. also i apologize for how needlessly wordy this is HAHA i strayed from the prompt like .. a lot

warnings for sickness , the coughs , vomiting, sore throat , etc , the whole shebang-- and some cursing

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It’s not that Janus had never been sick before, it’s just that...

Well, he’d never been sick before.

He wasn’t positive why (which irked him; he hated being in the dark about things, especially things concerning himself), but he had some theories- the most plausible one thus far simply being that while Thomas had always viewed the Light Sides as human, to some extent, he saw Janus as a two-faced snake; a monster kept hidden away in the shadows under his bed. And monsters didn’t get touched by things like disease. So while the others got touched with sickness occasionally, Janus never did.

But if Janus was getting sick now..

That implied that after he told them his name, Thomas started seeing him as somewhat human, too, with vulnerabilities like the rest.

He wasn’t sure just how he felt about that, but he didn’t love it (he liked being untouchable, okay?).

Ah, well, Janus supposed the why didn’t matter much at the moment. He could ponder that after the fact.

Right now was the time to think about how to end it, because it was pure torture.

He was too hot and too cold all at once, his head throbbed and his body ached in places he never knew could ache, his eyes were sore and oozing and his nose wasn’t faring much better. His throat was raw as if he’d spent hours and hours screaming at nothing, and even after trudging his way into the Dark Side’s kitchen for a cup of tea (though it was more like a cup of honey and lemon with a hint of green tea), it felt absolutely no better; in fact, he just felt worse, because he had to leave bed, go downstairs, spend twenty minutes standing around to make the tea, and then go back up the stairs to his room again.

He’d been fidgeting with his blankets for the past three hours; having them on made him too hot, having them off made him too cold, and so he settled for having one leg covered and nothing else (oddly enough, this was actually a good compromise). The air in his room was hot and stuffy which certainly didn’t help- nor did it help his sinuses any, as it made his headache pound worse and his airways were thoroughly blocked off. He dreaded drinking or swallowing anything as it sent the most uncomfortably painful sensation down his throat and rendered him to a groaning, pained mess.

He clutched his pillow weakly, pressing his head into the hot surface. He hated this. Usually, he thrived in the heat, as his room was typically colder than a jail cell, but this time he wanted it gone. He wished it was winter, just so he could full-body launch himself into a mound of snow and sleep for eternity.

He felt a slight tug, the distinct feeling of someone requesting his presence, and promptly shooed it away. Not only was he just wearing pants, but he was sick, and he’d rather die than show that level of weakness to anybody.

Three days before, when he’d first felt his symptoms come on, he’d briefly considered going to someone for help; perhaps Remus, because he was his best friend, or Logan, because surely he’d know how to handle diseases and how to cure them, or maybe even Patton, because he was a father figure and might have even made him soup- but he had quickly banished the thought. Sure, maybe they knew his name now, but they still really didn’t like him and had absolutely no reason to help him and not laugh at his predicament.

Well. Remus liked him well enough, but he would have just taken his morning star and bashed Janus across the head with it and called it good, so Janus had to pass on that.

Another tug came, a little more forcefully this time, and Janus dismissed it, just as forcefully. For a little precaution, he took a deep breath and waved his hand, locking up his room so no one could rise up/appear in it, nor could they come through his door. The strain it put on him to maintain that lock was almost enough to make him pass out, but he didn’t dare remove it; he couldn’t risk anybody seeing him in this state.

He forced his body to roll over to the side, pressing his face into his pillow and sighing in relief as his nose unplugged just enough to take a deep breath in. He found himself actually wishing he’d sneeze, just for the temporary relief it brought.

He pointedly ignored the next few tugs that hit him, though they weren’t as forceful and harsh as the past couple were. He could only assume the only reason they actually wanted him up there was to lecture him, because him being incapacitated like this surely was affecting Thomas in some way that they didn’t like.

Well, sucks to be them, Janus thought in mild frustration, I’m staying right here until this all goes away and I don’t want to die anymore.

Eventually, the incessant tugging slowed to a stop, and then they finally left him alone.

Letting out a relieved sigh, Janus curled his body into a tight ball, cringing at the sticky feeling of his sweaty skin against his silk sheets, and tried to fall asleep.

Thankfully, sleep claimed him easily, and he drifted off.

However easily it came, though, it certainly wasn’t very forgiving.

He didn't wake up randomly, but he kept getting thrown so many vivid nightmares and odd, fever-induced dreams that he almost wished he was waking up every few minutes, if only to get away from whatever things his mind kept throwing at him.

He wasn’t awake, but he was aware of his own constant tossing and turning, his bed creaking in protest every time he thrashed and threw his body around the mattress, and when he finally did open his eyes (his throbbing head wasn’t very appreciative of it), he realized he’d somehow twisted himself so his head was at the foot of his bead and his blankets had been fully tossed onto the floor. His pillows weren’t faring much better; only two of his usual six remained in place, and they were mangled to death, the rest on the floor with his blankets.

Janus truly couldn’t bring himself to give a damn- instead, he weakly pushed his body upright, trying not to topple over as his head swam, and fell right back down in the proper position. Thankfully, though, his head not touching the pillows in a while meant they were delightfully chilled, and he moaned aloud at the lovely sensation it brought him. Absently he wondered if he should gather the strength to get himself an ice pack or run an ice bath, but thought better of it. After all, he was still part snake; he’d rather not throw himself into a self-induced comatose state from the cold.

He blindly reached out and grabbed ahold of his bedside clock, a little antique thing he designed himself to fit his aesthetic despite being very poor at reading Roman numerals, and squinted as he tried to decipher how long he’d been asleep for.

He nearly dropped the thing upon realizing he’d slept for eleven straight hours.

He slid it back onto his nightstand and groaned loudly, though it quickly turned into a pained, chest-wracking cough. He couldn’t avoid it; he had to get up and eat something, or drink something, or get literally anything in his body, because whether he liked it or not, that was the only way he was going to get over this thing quicker.

He managed to move just enough to get up and off the bed (nevermind the fact he nearly fell straight on the floor the second he stood), and took a couple shaky steps towards the door. The moment he reached out to turn the knob, though, the knocking started.

He froze, looking like a deer caught in headlights as he stared wide-eyed at the piece of wood in front of him, the only thing separating him from them.

There was a call of ‘Janus?’ that was so soft, Janus didn’t actually know who it came from; but that didn’t matter now, because the doorknob was turning and fuck, when did he let go of his lock?

Janus snapped his fingers, and managed to summon all but his hat when the door opened and revealed- much to his surprise- Virgil.

Janus and Virgil blinked at each other for a moment, dumbfounded, but thankfully, Virgil didn’t seem to see anything off about him, and just lowered his gaze and shrunk into his hoodie, refusing to meet Janus’ eyes.

“We- uh, they were trying to call you earlier today, you know.” Virgil’s voice was low and gruff, and Janus could honestly say this was the best possible Side to come see him. Remus was loud and shrill, Patton was too cheery and Roman was boisterous- Logan probably wouldn’t have been awful, but with his insistence to look everyone in the eye as he spoke to them, Janus was sure he’d have deciphered what was going on in a second.

“I’m aware,” Janus replied, internally cringing at his rough tone. He cleared his throat, which was screaming in protest at speaking.

Virgil didn't seem to notice- or if he did, he didn’t care. “Well. You made them worry, and they sent me to come collect you.”

“Worr- Collect?” Janus echoed in confusion, taken off guard by everything Virgil said.

“Yeah, uh, you worried them so now they won’t take no for an answer. You’re gonna have to come with me.” Virgil, at least, seemed a little sheepish saying this, but he also has a particularly determined and frustrated look to him. Clearly, he wasn’t happy being the one picked to come ‘collect’ Janus, and he wasn’t going to take no from him as an answer, either.

“Wh-” Janus was cut off as Virgil gripped his arm, and any protests he could have made died on his tongue as they started moving. Dizziness attacked him with such ferocity that he was honestly astounded that he hadn’t immediately fallen over, and his stomach lurched at the speed they were moving. Of course, he didn’t bring this up, just took a deep breath and pushed through. After all, Virgil was the last person he wanted to know about his current state.

Once Virgil brought them across the line that separated the Dark Sides from the Light Sides, the immediate bright artificial light from the lamps and ceiling lights making his head pound in a way that was even worse than what the red light of the heat lamps in the snake terrariums in his room caused.

The air here, though, was clear and fresh, and he basked in the coolness of it as it surrounded him. If it wasn’t for the lights, he’d almost be tempted ask to stay for a while.

Once they made it to the living room, Virgil released him from his grasp, and slunk over into his own corner in the stairwell- and Janus found himself standing right next to Logan.

Unfortunately, they were all staring at him.

Time to put your acting skills to work, Janus, he thought to himself as he heaved an internal sigh, and plastered a toothy grin on his face that bared his sharp canines just enough to make them flinch away.

“So. I was summoned?” His throat protested speech, but thankfully his voice came out smooth and silky, not one bit of it hinting towards his predicament.

“Yeah, and you never answered..?” Thomas seemed more concerned than anything, but Janus definitely saw some suspicion on Roman’s expression (he couldn’t blame him, after how his name reveal went), and Patton was more fidgety than usual. Logan, bless him, didn’t seem to be acting any different, and Virgil looked just as bored as he usually was.

Remus, however...

Well, Remus was looking at Janus with a suspicious gaze similar to Roman’s but far more scrutinizing. Janus briefly felt a flare of panic. If there was anyone here to notice he was off, it would be his best friend, who he lived with and saw every day.

“I was resting, Thomas, would you blame your personification of self-preservation for taking a day off for self-care?” Janus’ tone was exasperated. He wasn’t lying, not really; he was resting, and he was taking a day off for self-care.

Just.. more than one day.

“Respectfully, I have to.. what is the term, ‘call bullshit’?” Came Logan’s voice next to him, and he hoped to God that Logan didn’t notice Janus’ feverish tremors. “You’ve been MIA for the past few days, and it’s escalated to the point where Thomas is beginning to react to it. There is something else going on, and we’d like to know what’s going on.”

Ah, yes, for the good of Thomas, Janus couldn’t help but think a little bitterly, Really, I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s not like they’d worry about my wellbeing. “I’m afraid I wasn’t bullshitting you, Logan,” Janus replied coolly, “It was the truth.”

“Then how come your room looked trashier than Remus’?” Virgil’s voice, where earlier it was comfortingly gruff, was now an offputting growl. Despite his words, though, Janus could tell he was trying to act like he didn’t actually care. He took note of that, because Virgil caring about him was odd.

“Rearranging,” Janus replied simply, and hoped they took that alone as an acceptable answer.

Of course, they didn’t.

“You never rearrange,” Virgil’s tone turned accusatory, and then Patton cut in.

“Well, maybe then that’s why he’s doing it now? For something fresh?” He sounded hopeful, as if he couldn’t wait for this entire conversation to be over. Janus felt similarly.

“I’ve lived with him, Patton, I know him, and it’s not something that happens.” Virgil argued, but this seemed to set off Remus as he cut in with, “And you left, so who are you to claim you ‘know him’?”

This sparked an argument amongst themselves, as they fought over the sudden new topic that thankfully centered around Virgil more than anything, and with Logan, Roman, and Thomas trying to mediate, there was no attention put on him anymore.

Janus took this momentary distraction to let out a sigh of relief, the mix of loud voices and trying to act like nothing was up was doing absolutely no good for his headache and exhaustion. He mourned the loss of his hat, because he could have used that to hide his face away from the lights that were bearing down on him and making his skin feel uncomfortably hot.

Though perhaps that was from all the layers of his outfit.

Unfortunately, though, as the seconds passed, the voices seemed to get louder, the lights got brighter, the clothes got hotter and his stomach was churning, his hands were sweating, his head was pounding his legs were getting shaky oh god his ears were ringing oh fuck fuck stop the noise please turn off the lights please stop please stop-

Distantly, he felt his throat start hurting intensely and he realized he was speaking out loud, stammering out pleads that were growing muffled as everything swamped him. His hands raised to cover his ears, trying to drown out the noise around him, and his legs gave out beneath him. He collapsed, feeling something warm and wet trickle down his face- tears? Was he crying? No, surely he was just imagining the feeling- but before he hit the hard floor, he felt something grab a hold of him, long, spider-like fingers gripping the undersides of his arms like a lifeline. He felt sharp nails and soft ruffles and realized Remus had caught him, he must have run from his spot to catch him before he fell, and Janus felt the stinging gaze of everybody on him. He felt like a mouse that was dropped into a snake’s cage for feeding, cowering beneath the penetrating gaze of the predator before him. The roles were reversed, and he hated it.

He managed to pry open his own eyes- when had he shut them?- and the moment he saw the horrified gazes trained on him, he fled.

He forced himself from Remus’ arms and he vanished, retreating back to his room, where the lights were off and the curtains were shut and the only thing he had to deal with was the light of his snakes’ heat lamps.

The hot, stuffy air attacked him with a vengeance, though, but he couldn’t really bring himself to care. He stripped himself of his clothes again, his skin glistening, heat radiating off of his person.

He hurriedly locked up his room again, and fell to his knees beside his bed, and retched.

Thankfully, he’d managed to grab his trashcan, but it didn’t make him feel any less humiliated.

He thought he was doing himself a favor, hiding his state from all of them, but from not going to just one of them when he could, he had ended up breaking down in front of all of them.

Body trembling and chest heaving, Janus collapsed onto the hard floor beneath him, unable to pull himself onto his bed, and curled up into a tight ball.

He wanted this to end.

Janus was so caught up in his misery that he didn’t even notice pounding on his door, all of his senses wrapped up in himself, in his throbbing head and hot skin and burning throat and sore stomach and the sound of his blood pumping in his ears, until there was a deafening ‘crash’ and splinters of wood came flying into his room.

He flinched at the noise and forced himself to sit up, but the sudden movement made him gag, and he found himself panting like a dog trying to cool himself off and calm down his raging nausea.

There was a barrage of voices at first, but they were quickly hushed- from what, he didn’t know- and then a delightfully cold hand clutched his bicep, and he couldn’t hold back the relieved moan he let out in response.

“I’m gonna put you in bed, okay, Janus?” Came a soft voice- Remus- and Janus didn’t protest as he was gently lifted up by the Creative twin. Admittedly, he didn’t even know Remus could be that gentle, but he was grateful for it nonetheless.

There was some quiet shuffling and the sound of a dull ‘smack’ and then someone cursing softly, but soon enough Janus was set down on a set of smooth cotton sheets, clean and cool, and an absolute blessing.

“Jan-Jan, why didn’t you tell us you were sick?” Remus’ tone was scolding, like a parent to a young child (ironic, considering Janus was the one who raised Remus), and Janus opened his eyes just enough to see Remus’ face swathed in the shadows of his room.

“Weak,” Janus croaked in reply, his voice wrecked, “Di’n.. wan’ see.”

“Your pride is going to be the death of you,” Remus sighed, and Janus heard some other voices pipe in.

“We would have helped you, Janus,” Thomas sounded sad, almost regretful. For what, Janus would never know.

“Indeed,” Logan’s voice was a comfort, Janus was willing to admit. “In fact, I will begin researching how to best care for this as soon as possible, so you are in utmost comfort while you recover.”

“I’ll make some soup,” Came Patton’s quiet promise, “And water, and tea.”

“I changed your bedsheets,” Roman seemed shy, “If you need me to, I can try and make a set that keeps you cooled down.”

Janus almost moaned aloud at the thought, and Roman must have seen it in his expression because he perked up right away.

“Sorry for, uh, dragging you away so forcefully,” Virgil muttered, and Janus just managed to flap his hand dismissively.

“You didn’ know.” He mumbled weakly, and he felt Remus’ cool touch brush away hair that clung to his sweaty forehead.

“And now we do. So we’re going to take care of you, because we care about you.” He promised in a tone with no room for argument, with the others murmuring in agreement behind him.

And for once, Janus believed him, and let himself be taken care of.

#vanna talks #ask #anonymous #janus sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #sickfic #fic #fanfic #sanders sides #tssides #thomas sanders #fanfiction #platonic dlamptr #with a slight focus on dukeceit i suppose #Anonymous

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comingoutofthecauldron · 4 years

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Sometimes I'm like broooo how did leigh make such good books with soc and ck with such good characters and plots and wordbuilding but she had made a (very entertaining) trilogy but with so many grating 2D characters and sometimes the plot was just ... not it

Like soc and ck obviously have their flaws too but not to the same extent as the trilogy

Like did you feel leigh was very unnecessarily sympathetic to the darkling and treated Nikolai as a mostly good character in the text even though he did sooooo many shitty things

And that zoya was treated (unknowingly) with a lot of misogyny in the narrative which has caused many people in the fandom to hate her

And alarking and nikolina were romanticised in the books and in the fandom far too much

???

YES OKAY so this is a Big Thing for me. very controversially, i prefer tgt to soc solely because i find it much more enjoyable to read. HOWEVER, there's no denying that leigh's writing definitely improved from tgt to soc, i agree.

while i think that leigh clearly portrayed the darkling as a villain (she didn't tamper down his crimes or make them seem less horrific), i agree that the narrative was definitely (arguably too) sympathetic towards him. i could use a lot of examples for this, but none work quite so well as:

“Once more,” he said. “Speak my name once more.” He was ancient, I knew that. But in this moment he was just a boy – brilliant, blessed with too much power, burdened by eternity.

“Aleksander.”

His eyes fluttered shut. “Don’t let me be alone,” he murmured. And then he was gone.

leigh's choice to have alina, one of the people who suffered most at the darkling's hands, sympathise with him and even grant him his last wish, was a bad one. this man is a thousand year old p*dophilic mass murdering sex trafficker and she had the nerve to describe him as "just a boy" and "brilliant [...] blessed [...] burdened". of course you can argue that this is the residue of his grooming of alina, but i just think that after all the shit he'd done by this point, after a whole book of alina talking about how manipulated she felt and how much she hated him, these few words offer him clemency from the narrative that he does not deserve. all he did to earn alina's kindness (not forgiveness, to be fair to leigh) was die.

and yes, nikolai was hero worshipped by the text for absolutely no reason. even though we see both alina and mal put up a lot of resistance to him + the shit he pulls (punching him, criticizing him etc), the narrative basically shoves their eventual "pity" and "admiration" for nikolai down the readers' throats.

“[...] Nikolai might never have made it out of the Grand Palace.” It hurt me to say it, but I forced myself to speak the words. “He could be dead.”

and

The too-clever fox. Even once he’d abandoned his disguise as Sturmhond, that’s who Nikolai had been to me, always thinking, always scheming.

and

[to nikolai] “I’m just happy you’re alive,” I said, hastily blinking my eyes clear.

imo this sympathy + romanticisation is much worse and much more prominent throughout the latter half of s&s and the whole of r&r than the sympathy with the darkling, purely because the bad things nikolai does are essentially never acknowledged. there is (unsurprisingly ig) no talk of his imperialism, no talk of his pursuing alina when she's a minor, no talk of his racist remarks and generally very little talk of him being an asshole (particularly to mal).

moreover, i agree that nikolina + darklina were too romanticized by the text. i have a very complicated relationship with leigh's portrayal of alarkling, because a lot of alina's earlier feelings and sympathy for the darkling stem from his grooming and manipulation of her, which i think this quote from the start of r&r shows pretty well:

Even now, after everything he’d done, I wanted to believe the Darkling, to find some way to forgive him.

but then we get the whole mental house call thing that alina + the darkling do, in which they can visit each other and no one else can see the other. that was a mistake narratively. the ability to do this implies a sort of deeper bond, and even though the darkling then uses this bond to show alina the corpse of the only mother figure she'd ever known, it still carries almost romantic connotations with it throughout the rest of the book(s) for some reason. this dynamic is similar to a lot of "soulmate bonds" in mainstream ya (namely sjm's mating bonds), which helps to explain why so many people ship darklina; it is written & coded the same as the majority of (abusive) ya relationships, so readers pick up on this as a sign of romance rather than some attempt at narrative foils or something (bc in reality zoya is alina's foil). this isn't even mentioning the repetition of alina's desire to forgive the darkling and her confusion over her "feelings" for him, which once again just reinforces darklina as a viable ship in a lot of readers' minds.

as for nikolina, as a less prevalent ship in the series it gets less attention in the fandom. most often, i see people turn to nikolina because they don't like malina or the darkling, or because they wanted alina to become queen (to which i remind everyone that alina never wanted to be queen). at first i was alright with leigh's portrayal of them because alina punches nikolai + is angry with him for kissing her non-consensually etc, which is the closest the narrative ever comes to condemning him for his actions. but later on alina seems to forget all this and considers marrying nikolai, even joking with him a little when he proposes:

[during nikolai's marriage proposal]

“Stop that,” I said, still grinning.

“What?”

“Saying the right thing.”

there is zero acknowledgement of how predatory nikolai is, and instead the narrative goes on to sympathise with nikolai and have alina feel guilty for rejecting him. imo alina's characterization (her initial disdain for nikolai, which was much more in character) was sacrificed to raise up nikolai, and also show him to be a plausible and "likable" love interest for zoyalai, which is where leigh obviously intended for nikolai to end up (zoya is even mentioned during nikolai's proposal).

finally - yes, zoya in tgt is basically a manifestation of leigh's internalised misogyny. from alina's initial slut-shamey disdain for her, to leigh weaponising her against malina (repeated sexual encounters with mal), to zoya being seen as evil & a bitch by the other female characters just because she's powerful + isn't "nice", zoya's character was assassinated before it even had chance to materialize. even though zoya was also a victim of the darkling and is, as i mentioned before, alina's narrative foil, alina has very little sympathy for her and assumes that she's an evil bitch. tbf, this gets better with each book, but even in r&r there's a lot of tension between zoya and the other characters because she's seen as unlikable and difficult. i can't speak to her characterization in kos or soc, because i haven't read one and don't really remember the other, but i have heard that it improved from tgt to kos.

anyways this has been a long ass rant and i'm very sorry to anyone who scrolls past it on their dash. fuck the darkling, fuck nikolai lantsov, and stan malyen oretsev

#cauldron rants #cauldron asks #tgt #anti nikolai #anti nikolina #anti darkling #anti darklina #anti alarkling #alina starkov #the darkling #nikolai lantsov #zoya nazyalensky #long post

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minecraftoworymode · 5 years

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God-denial, devil-death Great leader Prophesied reformer

We pray for your triumphant soul's return

wip... i’ve thought way too much about star shield jesse

for full context: this post, (the first half of) this post, and also- light grey eyes indicate that an npc has been “adjusted” (so like, everyone in the keep and the ‘burg). freds’ friends’ genuine love for their leader mixed with romeo’s programmed-in veneration of the admins = cultish trivia contest that also serves to keep up the image of fred romeo wants to remember. kent exists for a) keeping an eye on the keep b) eternal self-flagellation by constantly reminding romeo that he killed his best friend and c) despite that remembering them as someone who would forgive him in a heartbeat and love him anyway (which might not necessarily be true, but).

so, star shield is kind of like a kick in the head to romeo ahgldhfglkhGLHDF

when it comes to the trivia thing they go around and talk to everyone but instead of asking for infromation about fred they accidentally just. chat like normal people, like old friends even some might say. the rest of the gang is too busy worrying about things and trying to get information themselves to however, when the time comes for the trivia contest jesse miraculously "guesses" all the right answers. the first time kent brushes it off as beginner’s luck, the second time he looks at them a little funny, the third time binta makes a joke about how jesse must be REALLY lucky, the fourth through seventh are met with increasing bewilderment, and it’s only the eighth question where they stumble

but the thing is... all the answers have been supplied by you-know-who to binta n theyre kind of flat take type answers bc he was intent on crafting a very specific image of fred. beyond perfect, but also kind of. stereotypical? one-dimensional? and when that question comes up kent waits to answer bc so far they've been terrifyingly on-the-nose with these answers and he's honestly a little afraid but instead of the “correct” answer, which is lapis blue, they go "red?" and everyones like . huh?? n they sort of shrug and go "that's the colour of roses! i've always liked roses, and look, there's one in their windowsill * points*" and when everyone looks at them they grin sheepishly and admit that fred mustve had really good taste because this entire time they’ve just been giving their own favourites haha

they dont win the point but thats when kent becomes convinced that theyre deadass some kind of reincarnated fred or something

anyway later jesse’s trying to undo the brainwashing which obviously won’t fly with kent and like... they obviously dont know what the funk he’s going on about but he’s CONVINCED that this is fred’s version of revenge- that letting him think they were dead this entire time, and now pretending not to even recognize him, is all some sick joke. and he’s going on this long-winded one-sided rant about how he can’t BELIEVE this and this is SO- how could they do this to him- and theyre like Dude I Legit Have No Clue What You’re Talking About. Do You Want Me To Make You Some Tea Or Something

and it SUCKS because this all seems to only be making him angrier? the genuinely (or apparently genuinely) confused reaction and like overall trying to de-escalate the situation- the more they try to calm ‘kent’ down the more hes convinced that theyre just fred playing a game, and he always knew fred was a good actor too its just that romeo nowadays uses being a good actor to basically jsut dick around and hurt people but fred would never do that- and yet here is fred, seemingly doing that

(also people who remind him of fred, who are diplomatic and try to avoid fighting where they think they can talk things out instead, rly set him off)

eventually star shield manages to defeat kent’s boss form with the help of everyone else in the keep n before they go back to the oasis binta stops them and asks if they dont maybe recognize this place-? she knows it sounds silly but it just, it feels like she's known them for way longer than just a few days and she sounds kind of... hopeful, and yes she knows its impossible yes she knows now that fred is dead for good and not just gone but... but if there were ever anyone to be able to do something impossible itd be an admin, right?

of course jesse doesnt get at All what shes talking about and probably just says they wish they'd known her sooner bc she seems like a rly cool person n she does get kind of bummed but like

right before leaving they say a very freddish sentence (might even be something fred actually said often?) n they didnt think it was all that cool a one-liner but as they leave the keep bintas staring at them like theyve just invented sliced cake

#mcsm #minecraft story mode #mcsm jesse #msg #ng+#star shield #me pretending im the fkin diva from the fifth element singing into a hairbrush in my room: OOSUUUHN AALLLLMEESSEEE SUUUTOHHHM YALIIIIIIF #SUL DEVAAAHHRRR #NEE-EE-REEEVAAAA-AAAR

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hardyimagines · 6 years

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The Decision — Part 3

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Can I ask for a request? Alfie had to give up the reader because hes facing a powerful and dangerous enemy but he doesnt tell the reader. She ends up dating tommy (who doesn't know about her past with alfie) and on their wedding day Alfie shows up. Idk what happens next lol but I just would love to read about tension and emotions and alfie just like being vulnerable. Thank you 💜💜💜

Omg so your new Alfie fic is amazing! I've never requested anything before or made a suggestion but I wanted to suggest that maybe (if you want), can you include a part where the main OC does end up getting hurt and she's possibly pregnant (maybe loses it) with Alfies child and he doesnt know but then he finds out?! Whether she gets hurt bc of Tommy or Alfie it's up to you but I'd like to read that

Requested by: @fuckitsharam & @stylingco

Word count: 5.7k ||| Status: completed

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Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

How did you get here? Staring at your reflection in the mirror, your red eyes studied your dress. The white material hung low on your shoulders, hugging your form snugly as it ran over your curves and down to the floor. It had a lengthy, lacy, floral printed train. This was your wedding day. The block in your throat was one of confusion. There was a large amount of hatred for yourself in your gut and you weren’t sure what to do about it. Today was meant to be the happiest day of your life, the day you agreed to love a man for eternity in return for his love as well. The man you wanted was not here though. Alfie Solomons was no doubt sitting in the office of his bakery, lost in mounds of paperwork, oblivious to just where you were and what was about to happen. Thomas Shelby. He was standing at the end of the isle, tuxedo nicely suiting those sky-colored eyes of his. You didn’t mind marrying Tommy. He treated you well enough. He’d only been rough with you once and it was one drunken mess. You shut your eyes, instantly reminded of the night a few days ago.

The engagement ring was swallowing your ring finger whole, a promise that you would be Thomas Shelby’s forever. He’d been downstairs, drinking himself into madness and you’d hoped he’d stay down there all night. Your mind was at ease until you heard him climbing, well more or less stumbling, up the steps to your bedroom. He’d thrown the door open forcefully, causing the door to rattle so hard, you thought the hinges might give out and break off. You’d turned to face him with a careful gaze, brows furrowed in confusion as he set his bottle of gin down roughly on the vanity near the door. “Jesus Christ, Tommy, what the hell’s wrong with you?” You hissed, hand covering your heavily beating heart. He’d had a rough day at work, entirely too stressful for him to apparently cope while sober. He hadn’t given you much of an answer. His thick fingers were rough, gripping at your arms as he pulled your body toward his. You tried to keep up with the frantic kisses he was giving you, but it was entirely too difficult to keep up with the pace. “Tommy.. Tommy, hang on.” You moved your small hands to his shoulders to settle him like you did with Alfie, but he took that as a sign of rejection. He had your small body pressed roughly against the wall in seconds, chest pressing against yours, restricting you from moving. “Thomas, my belly-“ you pushed at his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh. Thomas Shelby’s eyes were glazed over with a faraway look and he was seething. He spit words of venom at you, warning you not to refuse him, because he was tense and needed some sort of relief but when you’d cried out because he was pressing himself too hard against you, he’d jerked back in fear. Your hands fell to your stomach instinctively, cradling your child as best as you could as you slid down the wall to rest in a heap on the floor. Tommy’s eyes were bright and apologetic. He knelt down to tell you he wasn’t sure what had gotten into him, but you’d shoved him away and told him to get the hell out.

Why were you so forgiving?

It was only two days before you let the man back into your arms, allowing him to kiss and love on you. The question hung in the air of ‘would he act like this again’, but you were so young and so so naive. You’d forgiven him and you’d agreed to still marry him.

Your polished fingertips traced the veil that shielded your soft features. Your eyes were shimmering with the lightly coated, but visible makeup, pink lips turned down into a light frown, but you forced it upward. Tommy’s family and friends were shoved into the small building, every seat filled with a guest. You didn’t have any family that would attend. Your mother wasn’t one for weddings, she gave her congratulations from afar and your father was no longer living, so you would be walking down the isle accompanied by Arthur. Your small hands lifted to cup your face as you let out a long sigh of disappointment. When would things go back to normal? You wondered. Normal was with Alfie. Things would no doubt never be normal again— not unless he was the bloke waiting at the end of the isle for you. God you missed Alfie.

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Everyday was hectic those last few weeks, but one day in particular was unforgettable. You were curled up on the sofa in the living room. It was freezing cold outside and because the furnace in your house didn’t have a knob that worked, it was either scalding hot in the house or icy inside. You found yourself lounging around in Tommy’s shirts, completely unbuttoned as you sprawled out on the sofa. The hot heat that pumped from the vents in the house kept you from shivering from the wintry chill outside, but god you were unhappy inside and even more unhappy outside. The front door opened and Tommy came stumbling in, scarf wrapped around his neck and chin to shield some of his face from the cold. “It’s a fucking blizzard out there.” He muttered, breathing a sigh of relief at the cozy inside of your home. His blue eyes fell on you, allowing them to scan your breasts, along your ribs and down to your swollen belly. “It’s a fucking furnace in here.” You moaned, wiping some of the sweat from your forehead. Sitting up on the floral patterned fabric, you stood up, hand resting beneath your belly as you moved toward him. “Come here, I’ll warm you up.” Peeling the scarf away from his sharp jaw, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his rosy lips and then brushed your warm thumbs along his pink cheeks. “You were out for entirely too long, do you want to get sick, Mr. Shelby?” Thomas laid his hands on your hips. “There was a little problem at the bar, but it’s taken care of now.” He kissed the tip of your nose before lifting his scarf off and away from his neck. The man moved to the corner to hang up his black trench coat, navy-colored scarf and then slipped out of his shiny black shoes. He stuck his hand into his trouser pocket and dragged out the tin of cigarettes. Opening the top, he slid a stick out and placed it between his slightly chapped lips before moving to take a seat on the couch. “Right.” He sighed, immediately warmed up now. “You know.” You whispered, approaching him as he sat comfortably. “You might as well just strip.” You smiled lazily. “It feels better when you don’t have fabric clinging to you.” Moving across the carpet, you climbed on to his lap and moved your nimble fingers to the buttons on his white shirt. “What was happening at the bar?” You asked softly, pressing a lazy kiss to the man’s jaw.

The shirt you wore slid off of your shoulders and you didn’t bother pulling it back into its proper place. Your lips were trailing along the side of his neck, down to his collarbone before he spoke up, halting your movements. “Alfie Solomons.” He whispered. “An old mate of mine, he dropped by today. Came as a bit of a shock, I haven’t seen him in so long.” You stiffened in his lap. Straightening instantly, your eyes glazed over with confusion. Thomas knew Alfie? “Alfie Solomons?” You whispered quietly. “Yes, Alfie Solomons. I believe you know him— he’s father of your babe.” He ushered to your stomach. After a moment of his words setting in, you scrambled off of his lap, brows creasing in confusion. “Y-you know?” Thomas nodded lightly, features calm as he continued to smoke what was probably his hundredth cigarette that day. “I’m not stupid pet. I’ve got eyes and ears all around. I was sure to find out eventually.” Guilt strangled you. “When did you find out?” You asked, voice cracking lightly. You moved your small hand to your throat, swallowing harshly. “Don’t get all stressed, that’s not good for you or the child. I’m not upset.” He told you quietly before standing. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone, ocean eyes fixated on your face. “I found out the day you went to Camden Town to see your mother. Polly told me. Did you see Alfie that day?” He pulled the cigarette away from his lips so that his words weren’t mumbled.

You felt as if you might vomit. You should’ve told the man sooner. Pushing your hair out of your eyes, you inhaled shakily. “I just went by to tell him that I was pregnant.” “And things escalated?” He asked, flicking some of the ashes into the tray on the table before he licked his lips and placed the colored end back between his lips to take another drag. “There’s no sense in lying. I’m sure something happened between you and Alfie.” You swallowed quietly before crossing your arms, effectively shutting the shirt you wore. “Yes.” You told him truthfully. “You don’t need to go into detail.” He told you softly before lowering himself down on a chair. His knees spread and he ushered you toward him. “You know I love you, mh?” You stared down at the shimmering orbs before you and nodded softly. “He has no clue that I’m the one you’re seeing, does he?” You shook your head side to side. “I didn’t think it would matter, I didn’t know you knew each other.” Thomas sighed softly before slowly guiding you down and on to his clothed lap. “It takes a while to let someone go. I know that better than anybody. I don’t blame you for.. whatever it is you did with Alfie, but I want to know if it’s him you still want.” Your eyes latched on to the man’s. It was Alfie. It would ALWAYS be Alfie. But there was no future with him. He wanted you, but wouldn’t allow himself to have you. “No, it’s you that I want. Alfie.. he doesn’t want things to move forward. He’s told me plenty of times now that things just won’t work.” Tommy brushed his thumb along your hip slowly, fingers pressing gently into your lower back. “If he loved you, he’d made it work.” You nodded your head slowly before biting on your lip. “That’s why I’m marrying you and not him.” Your lips locked with his in a soft kiss before you shrunk back slightly to eye his charming smile. Things would work out between you and Tommy. He loved you and you loved him, but you couldn’t believe you were marrying one of Alfie’s friends.

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You made your way out of the dressing room and into the main hall. The wide, white double doors were closed. On the other side of them, the crowd was waiting. Every single person in the room would stare at you in awe, enamored by your beauty. You leaned over to adjust the straps of your heels before glancing around. “Arthur?” You hissed softly in question, looking around for the man. You didn’t want to be too loud though and catch the attention of everyone inside the chapel. “Arthur?” You called out again, a little louder this time. The man poked his head around the corner, guiltily rubbing at his nose, snorting twice. “Yeah, right, sorry, I’m here.” His dress shoes tapped softly against the tiled floor, arm outstretching so that he could offer it to you. “You look beautiful.” He told you softly, smiling down at you kindly. The entire Shelby family approved of you, which was very nice to know, but of all of them, aside from Tommy, you felt closest to Arthur.

The music sounded loudly, signaling for everyone to stand. The double doors opened wide and Arthur began to lead you toward your fiancé. Your fingers gripped tightly on to your soon-to-be brother in law, shimmering orbs glistening as they stayed stuck to Tommy, not bothering to look around the room. Your heels clicked softly against the floor, but the noise was drowned out by the booming music from the piano. Arthur halted at the front before taking his spot as his best man beside his brother. You took Tommy’s hand and gave him a light smile. He exchanged one of his own before helping you up the small steps so you could come to a stop beside him. He was infatuated with you, blue eyes absolutely stuck on your small form as the ceremony began. “We are gathered here today to join this man,” He ushered to Thomas. “and this woman,” He ushered to you. “In holy matrimony. Before we begin, I would like to ask if anybody here would like to object? You may speak now or forever hold your pea—“ The crowd all seemed distraught when someone instantly spoke up. The crowd turned toward the back of the room where the gruff voice had come from, effectively cutting the man off at the front of the altar. You froze, shimmering eyes moving between Tommy’s.

Alfie was sitting at the back beside a pillar. His beard was trimmed and he wore no hat. He was clad in some black slacks, a white shirt, and a black vest. Do to the heat in the room, he’d rolled the sleeves up to his elbows and was currently clenching his fists. When he got the invite, it only specified the name of the groom, not the bride. Alfie felt the most indescribable pang in his chest when he saw you there, shining brighter than every star in the galaxy. When his awe and shock had subsided, he stood instantly. You were his and even if he couldn’t be with you, he wouldn’t stand by and let you marry another man, especially not Tommy fucking Shelby. “Yeah, I have to object here, right, yeah, that girl up there, she’s mine.” Alfie stood tall, visible throughout the entire room because of his height. You slowly turned your head toward the back of the room, lifting your veil so you could see better. There he was, clear as day. Alfie fucking Solomons. Tommy turned toward the man as well, squinting. “Alfie, I sent you an invitation to the wedding as a peaceful arrangement, not for you to disrupt.” You sent a look of horror to Tommy. “You invited him?” Pushing the veil out of your face again when it tried to fall, you stared at the man in shock. “You invited him? Why would you do that?” Staring at Tommy in complete disbelief, your mouth fell open wider, trying to absorb the information. He knew of your feelings for Alfie and he purposefully brought the man here? You, teary eyed and beyond confused, spun around on your heel and took off down the length of the long isle. Your eyes caught Alfie’s briefly before you shoved the doors open angrily and stormed out of the chapel. As you expected, the bearded man was quick to rush after you and Tommy was quick to rush after him. “Alfie, let her be!” You heard Thomas yell. “I can’t do that, mate, right, because you didn’t tell me that she was the one you was fucking marrying, did you? Now she’s in fucking tears- and thats your fucking fault!” Alfie turned angrily on his heel.

The men were face-to-face. Alfie was furious, eyes raging and bright. “I told you about her. I fucking did, right, yeah, and you, you fucking talked to me about her, and were knowingly with her? It’s a noble fucking thing to do, yeah, to tell a man when you’re messing around with his girl, innit?” You turned when you heard the two shouting at one another. Wiping away a stray tear that managed to escape, you yanked off your veil and threw it down in the street. “She’s not your girl though, is she Alfie, because you left her. It’s not my fault we met and fell in love.” Thomas was a lot more calm than Alfie and it was obvious. The vein in Alfie’s temple looked as if it were about to explode. “Alfie.” You whispered softly, attempting to grasp his attention. He turned, eyes ablaze, but when they settled on you, clad in your beautiful white gown with your swollen belly, they softened. “Pet..” You watched his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallowed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t fucking mean to make a scene, right, I just couldn’t watch you go through with that. You’re meant to be with me.” You stood in front of the men, shaking your head in disbelief. “You’re both unbelievable.” You moved your small hands to your head. “Alfie, I’ve tried. I’ve been so patient with you, I tried- I told you I’d be with you, but you pushed me away, several times.” Alfie straightened, letting out an incoherent string of words. “I know, I messed up, pet, right, I do fucking know that, but I want to be with you.” Your eyes moved between his before you slowly looked to the floor. “Wanting to be with me and actually being with me are two different things, Alfie.” The man rubbed down his beard, eyes flickering around the empty roads before he let out a loud groan of frustration. Stepping toward your much smaller form, his large hand lifted to the back of your neck and he guided you toward him. Your belly pressed lightly against him and everything around you fell on deaf ears. Alfie pressed his lips against yours tenderly, fingers weaving in the back of your tamed curls. You should’ve pulled away. This wasn’t fair for Tommy to see, but you couldn’t help but kiss him back. Your small fingers curled in the front of his shirt, holding him against you securely. Goosebumps rose on your skin as, for the first time, Alfie laid his hand against your stomach. The little boy inside kicked harshly at the pressure on his home, but Alfie’s hand remained in place, thumb running along the round ball. You were going in to deepen the kiss when the doors to the church opened with a bang. Parting from Alfie with a shaky breath, your hand remained curled in his white shirt, watery eyes falling to the floor before you embraced him as tightly as possible. It was quite difficult with your belly in the way, but the two of you managed.

Backing up when Tommy cleared his throat, he stood in front of the two of you, hands stuck deep in his trouser pockets. You smoothed your hair out of your face and tucked it away behind your ear as the wind blew around the three of you and the rest of the Shelby family that joined in. This was none of their business, you thought, but apparently Tommy’s business was theirs too. Tommy crossed his arms, eyeing you expectantly, as if you were the one with explaining to do. “How could you invite Alfie after I told you specifically how strong my feelings for him were? I told you I was working to get over him and that I was making progress, so why would you take it upon yourself to send him an invitation!” He could feel the heat from your rage radiating off of your form. He didn’t flinch beneath your angry words, he merely stood there, unfazed by your shouting. “You cheated.” He pointed out. You were taken aback by his simple words. Biting on your cheek, your small hands curled into fists. “And you nearly hurt my baby, you drunk bastard.” Shoving past the men, you made your way back toward the chapel so you could put on your original clothes. Yanking the ring off of your finger, you threw it to the ground. You were not marrying Thomas. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever.

Alfie spun on his heel and gripped the front of Tommy’s shirt, catching the bloke off guard. Thomas was watching you storm off one moment and the next, he was being spat on by the angry Jewish gangster. Yanking him forward, he angrily glared down at him. “You.” He hissed in disbelief. “You knew her name. You knew her face, every little detail about her. Did you knowingly go after her?” Alfie whispered. You paused on the steps, finding his soft voice much scarier than his loud one. Eyeing the man who towered over Tommy, you slowly curled your hands in your dress, looking between all the Shelby’s. They could easily pounce on Alfie if things got bad. Thomas shook his head coolly. “She was involved with me, Alfie, before I even knew she had dated you. I really do love her.” Alfie shoved the man back. “That’s a bit hard to fucking believe, innit, when you’ve brought myself and her to the same fucking place. What kind of reunion did you expect, my dear boy?” Alfie licked his lips before taking a step back. His cane dug into the pavement sharply and you could see his grip tightening on the handle. “Alfie-“ Pushing your way through the large crowd, your small hand wrapped around his arm. “Don’t.” Your hand slid down the length of his arm to gently wrap around his much bigger one. Easing his grip instantly so he was simply holding the cane now, you looked at Tommy and then up to Alfie. You weren’t sure which of them had hurt you more? Alfie had done it with the intention of keeping you away so that he could protect you. Tommy, you still weren’t sure why he’d invited Alfie, but he had, and that was like a stab to the chest. It was as if your feelings didn’t even matter to him.

Michael stepped forward, ensuring that his slicked hair was firmly kept in place, he squinted to Alfie. “Don’t ruin this wedding. Which fucking side are you on, Alfie?” Your eyes shot to the boy. Was that a serious question? Was he referring to you and Tommy as sides? Or was he referring to the friendship Alfie and Thomas shared. “I don’t give a fuck right now, kid!” Although you’d relaxed the muscles in his arm, the anger was still more than evident in his sharp tone. “The wedding is already ruined.” You explained. “Tommy did that himself.” You told the entirety of the Shelby family before pulling on Alfie discreetly, wanting desperately to just get out of here, but the large man didn’t budge. He merely shot you a pleading look. He wanted to let his anger out. There was more than one way for him to do that though and you were more than willing to help him out, you just needed to get away from here. You pulled on him again and Alfie spun around to face you, towering over you like a dark cloud over a city. Lifting your hand to his cheek, you leaned up on your toes, lips almost close enough to meet his, if he would’ve just dipped his head a little more. “You and I need to have a serious, serious talk, Mr. Solomons.” You told him softly, lowering yourself back down to flat feet when he tried to kiss you. Looping your fingers through his, you pulled on him for what felt like the hundredth time, but when he finally obliged, he didn’t walk away silent. As he began to back up, he pointed his cane at Tommy. “This isn’t over, mate, right. I don’t appreciate you fucking around on my girl.” He halted again and you moaned in frustration. “Matter of fact, yeah, I should jam this fucking cane right between those pretty little blue fucking eyes of yours, right, for laying a fucking hand on her.” You closed your eyes and turned on your heel, deciding you’d just wait. “It was a misunderstanding, Alfie. I’d had too much to drink.” Alfie arched a brow at Tommy’s poor excuse. “Right, well, lay off it then, yeah, women don’t like a bloke who’ll fucking hit em.” The streets were silent now as everyone soaked in the current situation. You leaned over and tore the end of the wedding dress to prevent the overly long material from dragging along the pavement. Throwing the fabric toward Tommy, you finally pulled on Alfie, managing to get him only a few steps away before he nodded once. It was as if he had been pondering something the entire time and had finally decided. He broke away from you again.

“Alfie- Alfie, what are you doing?” You curled your hands tightly at your sides before looking up to the sky and begging for someone to have mercy on you and let this whole situation come to an end. The man moved away from your side and charged toward Thomas. You moved your hands to your lips, directing your gaze back to the pair of men. Oh, god. John and Arthur stepped forward as they watched Alfie approach, hands curled so tightly, his fingers were turning pale. Thomas halted his brother’s, knowing that this would get really bad, really quickly if things escalated. He could take a punch. So he did. Alfie swung his arm hard enough to break Tommy’s fucking jaw. A sickening crack filled the street followed by a loud shout of pain from Tommy. He was hunched over, cradling his nose and the side of his face. Tommy halted his brother’s again as they both went to move forward again. You, not that you could take on four Shelby’s, defensively, moved in front of your gangster. Your back pressed to his chest, arms out to your sides to cease any fighting. “That’s enough-“ You hissed, nudging Alfie gently with your bum so he would back up. You should’ve known the cheeky man wouldn’t. His hands found your hips and you set him a wide-eyed warning look over your shoulder. “We won’t be back to Birmingham.” You whispered to Alfie and then to the Shelby’s. “So just carry on with your fucking lives and don’t-“ you pointed specifically at Tommy. “bother trying to fix things. I don’t want to see you again.” A part of you was hugely relieved that you didn’t have to spend forever with a man that wasn’t Alfie. This time, you turned on your heel and strode away from the crowd. Whether or not Alfie came along was his decision.

The cold air suddenly became painfully obvious. The adrenaline was no longer coursing through your veins, which had been effectively heating you up. You walked along the cobbled road, heels clacking against the icy pavement. How had you managed to walk away without grabbing your coat! You were so lost in your thoughts, you didn’t hear Alfie practically racing along behind you, cane tapping against the ground audibly with his feet. “Pet!” He shouted and you came to a halt. “Fuckin hell, I can’t run after you, right, my leg’s starting to hurt.” You turned around to watch a limping Alfie, hurrying toward you as quickly as he was able. Your heart lurched forward. “Stop, Alfie.” He did. There was about 10 feet between the two of you. “I don’t want you to come any closer to me unless you’re going to let me have what I want.” Your arms folded stubbornly across your chest, curious eyes moving between his even more curious ones. “And what the fuck would that be, pet?” You closed your eyes, a shiver racing up your spine. “You. Alfie, I want you.” You could see the man visibly relax when you opened your eyes to eye his reflection. The tension in his shoulders seemed to vanish and he looked a lot calmer. “Fuck Sabini.” You whispered. “Fuck everyone and everything that wants to try and keep us apart. It’s pointless. I want to be with you and you only.” He could hear the crack in your voice and he knew you were about to start crying. Crossing the distance between the pair of you, Alfie hauled off his large coat and wrapped it around your small form. “Alright, yeah, don’t cry, come here.” He pulled your small form against his broad chest and you soaked up every bit of warmth that his body gave off. “It’s gonna be me and you now.” He agreed. “And this little one.” He pressed his hand once more to your stomach, gently rubbing it. “We need to get somewhere warm, it’s fucking freezing out here, innit. We can fucking talk inside.”

You tilted your head back so you could gaze up at the man. “I love you, Alfie.” You sighed heavily, arms looping around his strong shoulders. “My house is right up the road.” You ushered and the man instantly moved in the direction you’d pointed toward. Your arms were still looped around his large form, even as he walked, easily avoiding trampling over you because of how wide he was walking. The journey to your house seemed quicker than it actually was because majority of the time you were giggling from the way he was half carrying you.

Your hand fisted tightly in the back of Alfie’s hair, pulling his lips instantly to yours, the second you were inside your home. Alfie moved his hands to his coat and dragged it off of your body. “You live in a fucking oven.” He pointed out, speaking against your lips, already sweating and he’d only been inside for a few moments. He drew back slightly so he could look around, but you were so deprived of him, you forcefully pulled his head so he would dip it and kiss you again. You felt him smile against your lips, large hands covering the space of your back as he held you against his chest, swaying slowly. “We’ve got all the fucking time in the world to kiss, pet.” You whimpered as his words vibrated against your mouth. “I know, I just.. I missed kissing you.” His smiled morphed into a more playful one as he straightened, once more depriving you of his lips. Your hands fell away from his neck to instead rest on his shoulders, squeezing them gently. “I want to go back to Camden Town, Alfie.” You told him as your fingertips traced the side of his neck. Alfie nodded slowly, studying your features. “Anything you want, pet.” He kissed your head softly. “Let’s pack your things, right, and then, yeah, we’ll fucking go. Get out of this shitty Birmingham.”

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A few days later

The men working in the distillery ceased their working to look toward you as you made your way down the corridor, trailing along behind Alfie. The man’s shoulders were hunched slightly, eyes darting around the room, silently urging the men to get back to work, but they were stuck staring at you and your swollen belly. You were a sight. A beautiful, glowing, absolutely breathtaking sight. You couldn’t wear your tight dresses this far along in the pregnancy, so you’d opted for something loose, but fitting. Your breasts had tripled in size and were pouring out of the top of the green slip you wore. The material came to a stop a little above your knee and Alfie only allowed you out of the house and to the bakery in such an, in his opinion, enticing outfit because you’d be in his office the entire time. You let out a heavy breath, cradling the underside of your belly as you eyed the long set of steps. “Alfie.. it’s too much for me.” You told him quietly, already gripping the stair rail. The man turned around to face you, brows lifted in question. He’d only made it up the steps halfway before climbing back down. “You go first, yeah, and I’ll be right behind you.” Nodding your head softly, you couldn’t help but smile when he placed his large hands on your curvy waist. He did most of the work, practically lifting you with each step that you took. Nevertheless, you gave a breathy moan of relief when you reached the top, shoulders slumping exhaustedly, even though Solomons put in way more effort than you did. “I need to lay down.” You told the man quietly.

He, still holding you securely to his chest, led you into his office and over to the sofa in the corner. “Go on, pet, lay down, I’ll be right here, yeah?” You nodded gently, lowering yourself down on the cushion. The silky material slid up your thighs, revealing more and more of your soft skin to his eyes, but he didn’t make any moves toward you. You were tired, always, and he didn’t want to drain you of what little energy you had left by ravaging you. Retreating over to his desk, Alfie pulled the chair out and lowered himself down on to it. Opening the drawer to his right, he ensured his revolver was tucked away inside before he shut it again. It was always better to be safe, rather than sorry. He lifted his spectacles to his face, looking at you over the rim of them before he got to work.

This would be an everyday thing. Until he could ensure your safety, you would come to work with him. You weren’t exactly complaining. This way, you got to look at him all day, unless he had to go out, then your days were spent with Ollie or someone else that he would send in. Laying on the sofa like a woman in a painting, Alfie often had a difficult time keeping his eyes off of you. Most days, he’d crack the window open, allowing the chilly air outside to fill the room because you were always so hot. This meant he had to wear his coat when he worked, but as long as you were happy, he was happy. You wondered silently how things would be when the baby came. You couldn’t accompany Alfie to work then. Not with a crying baby who needed constant attention? You eyed Alfie, studying him intently as he mumbled inaudibly beneath his breath, no doubt about work. He was going to make an amazing dad, you were sure of it.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

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Tagged: @thatsamegirl @peakyhoegh @ihclipse @callisen @hardygal69 @centerhabit @favouritereadings @goodiesintheclosetlove @buckypetal15

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Hello! I hope you guys enjoy this!! I think I’ll add one more part to it? I don’t want it to end here, I wanna write about Alfie as a dad!💛💛💛

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axemetaphor · 6 years

Text

One-Shot

Length: Roughly 1,700 words

Universe: Demolition Lovers AU

Rating: PG-13 for depressing themes

Pairing: Scourge the Hedgehog / Shadow the Hedgehog

Context: Scourge and Shadow are spending the night in Shadow's apartment when Shadow has a very vivid dream of his time on the ARK. They've only just recently started dating at this point in time.

Notes:

I challenged myself to only proofread this once before posting (bc I usually proofread a billion times), so, that's half the reason this exists.

I wrote this at 3AM yesterday when I was really sad in an attempt to cheer myself up. I hope y'all enjoy it and please forgive any typos/formatting errors! I'm uploading from mobile.

Constructive criticism appreciated!

Shadow sits up abruptly, eyes widening in surprise as he registers his surroundings, for a moment still believing he's in the ARK of his dreams. Once he realizes that no, he has not in fact woken up fifty years ago in the haven he wishes he’d never had to leave, a strange sort of sorrow descends, hanging over his shoulders like a heavy wool quilt, and it forces a sigh from his lungs. The sound dissolves quickly in his apartment; traffic noise drifts in through the open window as if guided to his ears by the moonlight and neon signs.Scourge is lying beside him, facing the window, immobile. Probably sleeping. He droops, looking down at his hands, wishing for the sterile silence of the ARK, for the company of those who made him, for the warm and happy memories he only carries fragments of. So much in his life has changed since then. Is he even the same person as before? Would Maria even recognize him if she saw him today?

A teardrop falls to his palm. He stares at it, empty, as more pour from his eyes. He can’t even understand why he’s crying, he just feels so horrible. A hiccuping sob escapes him and he lifts his hands to his face, shaking. He can’t seem to stop himself, to control his breathing, to calm down and clear his mind. His stomach twists and he curls in on himself, biting his lip roughly in an attempt to quiet himself; behind him he hears something shift and he freezes. The mattress dips slightly, closer than it had been before, and he sniffles, trying to quickly pull himself together.

Unfortunately whatever sort of structure he built in those two seconds immediately crumbles as a soft hand comes to rest ever so delicately on his back, right between the two spines. He sobs harder, resolve dissolving as he curls up, and Scourge gently rubs his back, silently letting him cry. After what feels like an eternity, his tears lessen, and he slowly unfolds, wiping his face off until, eventually, he can face his boyfriend. He turns wordlessly, looking down.

Scourge is sitting with his legs folded, crossed, one hand resting in his lap. Shadow is supported by one arm, knees bent and legs lying sideways, free hand still swiping at his eyes. “You, uh,” Scourge starts, voice thick with sleep; he clears his throat and starts over, much clearer now. “D’you… wanna talk ‘bout it?” His ears perk, eyes searching Shadow’s face. The dark hedgehog doesn’t respond, still avoiding his gaze, and Scourge lets his hand drop from Shadow’s back. “It’s a’ight if ya don’t.”

Finally he speaks. “It wasn’t anything bad, not like last time.” He lifts his head and shifts position, turning his whole body to sit facing Scourge, legs tucked beneath him. The green hedgehog says nothing, sitting patiently. “It… It was a good memory.” He falls silent again, staring down at his hands folded in his lap.

“Yeah?” Scourge prompts gently, ears angled towards Shadow. The dark hedgehog perks up as if startled, clearly already lost in his own head again.

He takes a deep breath before continuing. “Back on the ARK, I—” his eyes skate to the window impulsively—“Things were, things were...simpler. Maybe not better. But easier.” He pauses, ears drooping. Clouds drift across the moon, casting a darker blue hue to the room. “And I...I just sorta realized… everyone who was nice to me then,” as he speaks, his eyes glaze over, and he tilts his head back down, “they’re all dead now. They have been for a long time.”

Scourge searches his face with sad eyes. Shadow sighs, running a hand through his quills; he’s not really sad anymore, just tired. “I don’t know,” he mumbles, defeated, “I just wish I could go back sometimes, even though I know it’s never going to be possible. You know?” Shadow glances at Scourge, then winces, almost embarrassed, looking away again. “Sorry. I mean—You, you’ve told me what, uh, what life was like… I doubt you want that back.” What right does he have to complain when Scourge has never had a solidified good time to look back on? He mourns openly for something his boyfriend never had. How selfish is he?

Scourge glances down, mind tracing back to his time with the Suppression Squad. How fun it was to watch Miles work, how much he loved making Fiona smile once upon a time, the chaos they caused in his stagnant and dying world. Warm memories of the one time he really had a family, as much as they were cold to each other. “No,” he says, “There are some things I miss.” Lifting his head, he gives Shadow a bittersweet smile. “But if I’d stuck with ’em, I wouldn’t be here…” He reaches out, gently brushing Shadow’s leg with his left hand; his boyfriend slides his hand over to rest atop that one, holding it to his knee. “...And I wouldn’t trade this for the world.”

Shadow snakes his hand beneath Scourge’s, flipping it to lace their fingers together, and a small but genuine smile slides across his muzzle. “Yeah,” he murmurs, eyes flicking back up to meet Scourge’s, “Me neither.”

Scourge scoots closer, and runs his thumb across Shadow’s knuckles. “Ya can’t change what’s happened, ’n ya can’t go back. Ya just havta keep movin’ forward, no turnin’ back.”

“Mhm,” Shadow’s eyes turn sad again, and Scourge moves a bit closer again. “I… Did I wake you up?” A bit of concern flickers across his face.

Scourge shakes his head. “Nah, I was still up. Havin’ trouble sleepin’.”

Shadow doesn’t entirely believe him, ears flicking dubiously, but he doesn’t protest it. He looks back down at their joined hands. “I’m not gonna be able to go back to sleep,” he says in a resigned tone.

“Let’s stay up’n’watch TV,” Scourge suggests with a smile, giving Shadow a hopeful look.

“Don’t you want to sleep?” The dark hedgehog’s brows furrow, but his boyfriend shakes his head. “...Alright.”

Both hedgehogs turn their focus to the boxy small television at the foot of the mattress, tilted slightly, and they let go of each others’ hands just long enough to maneuver their way to the television. Shadow turns it on, then shuffles a bit further back. Scourge finds the remote wadded up in the one bedsheet they have, and with it they scroll through the few channels they’re allotted until they settle on something they can tolerate. That settled, Scourge drops the remote beside them, leaning back; Shadow lies down at an angle, gazing blankly at the screen. For some time they sit, relaxing, but Shadow’s expression never changes. “’Ey, Stripes,” Scourge says eventually, earning a half-raised eyebrow. “Uh. D’you,” he struggles to come up with a proper way to say it, wrestling with his sleep-deprived mind, “Can I, uh, lie down with ya?”

Shadow gives him a puzzled stare. “There’s enough room, right?”

“I meant, um,” Scourge shifts position. “Hold...Holdin’ ya—” He cuts himself off in abrupt embarrassment, covering his face with his hand.

Shadow smirks, restraining a laugh. “Yes.” He finally replies, gathering what Scourge is talking about. He sits up, twisting his neck to crack its bones as Scourge settles down on the mattress, still mumbling sheepishly as he lies down next to Shadow; Shadow shuffles a bit closer to rest his head on Scourge’s shoulder. For a moment Scourge thinks that’s all Shadow would allow (which would be fine by him, of course) until the dark hedgehog shifts again, pressing his side into Scourge’s and sliding an arm beneath him. “Is this alright?” He asks, glancing up at the green hedgehog. Scourge isn’t usually one for snuggling up like this (though neither is Shadow, to be fair), and Shadow is well aware of his boyfriend’s particular hangups with being touched.

Scourge for a moment is too startled and elated to answer, but he gathers his wits quickly and blurts, “Yes! Uh.” He coughs, cheeks reddening, “I mean. Sure.”

Shadow smirks, resting his other hand on Scourge’s chest. “Is this alright?” Scourge nods, mute. “...You’re sure this isn’t overwhelming?” Shadow speaks slowly, eyes trained to the green hedgehog’s face.

“I’m, I’m sure,” Scourge nods again, gazing down at Shadow with a smile. He gently places his right hand over Shadow’s, the left stuck beneath his boyfriend.

A yawn splits Scourge’s face as Shadow states, “If you change your mind, tell me. Okay?”

“Hnnnnokay,” he shakes his head to clear it. “Promise I will.”

“Good.” Shadow rests his muzzle against Scourge’s chest. Television static fills the air as they fall silent again, watching inane 3AM programming. Over time, Shadow’s mood lightens ever so slightly, and by 5 he feels halfway to normal again. The sun is on its way up, both of them are having trouble keeping their eyes open, and eventually Shadow sighs, ducking his head down to rub at his eye with his forearm. “We should sleep.” He remarks tiredly, flicking an ear.

“Mmh.” Scourge’s eyes are already half-closed. Shadow casually disentangles his hand from Scourge’s, leaning over him to reach the remote and turn off the television. “Hnnnh?” Scourge squints, coming back to reality as Shadow flops back down.

Shadow slides his hand back into his boyfriend’s grasp. “...Scourge?” He lifts his head to look at the green hedgehog.

“Hnhyeah?” Blinking blearily down at Shadow, he smiles, obviously sleepy.

“I, hm,” Shadow clears his throat, “Thank you for staying awake with me.”

Scourge gently pats Shadow’s back. “Of course, baby, I’m not gonna go to sleep when you’re distressed,” he purrs. “Ya feelin’ better, by the way?”

“A little bit.” Shadow rests his head on the green hedgehog’s chest again.

“Good.” Scourge scratches Shadow’s shoulder gently for a moment. Silence falls again, Shadow shuts his eyes, and Scourge stares at the ceiling, enjoying the moment. “Stripes?” He prompts, and Shadow hums briefly, lifting an ear. The green hedgehog bites his lip, wrestling with whether or not to say what he wants to; after a solid minute of debate, he makes up his mind, taking a deep breath to steel his resolve. “Love ya.”

Shadow perks up, astonished, and steals a glance at Scourge, whose eyes are already closed. “...I… Y-You too,” Shadow mumbles, burning bright red. Scourge smiles to himself, pleased, as Shadow’s eyes fall shut again, and both drift off to sleep just as the sun begins to rise.

#scourgadow #shadourge #one shot #fanfiction #sonic fanfiction #my writing #demolition lovers au #my au #vent #kinda #its absolutely ok to reblog tho #like actually please please do

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