#if you asked me if I had any alternative names for these two in ghost form I would say yes | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

flamingpudding · 7 months ago

Note

I had a crack idea that I was thinking of so you know in Dan is Klarion au I was imagining a au based off of that one where all of Danny's children are Klarion is like the robin thing for Batman it started off with Danielle when nabu insulted Danny as the Ghost King and Balance

Ever since Ellie decided that she needed to get back in blood so she made the chaotic antihero Klarion and and her suppose it familiar 'cat' Teekl the way to help out her mother and mess with Dr Fate/Nabu Teekl is actually a bear with an illusion on that makes him look like a cat in the human's eyes

Whatever since the anti-hero Klarion in The Phantom family has been passed down each of them giving their own flair to the persona of Klarion with a different animal every time that they had pretending to be a cat

Tell her to finally passed on to Dan it is an honorary sibling thing each of them has their own antihero name once they passed down the title of Klarion

Diana's query and takes after his father's style of dressing and his tickle is a phoenix

First of Thanks for the Ask! Inspirational as always! Helps with my writers block [insert awkward laugh]

Either way because this is split in two asks... you get two version! One focused on how it started and the other on the reveal! Though the might be some little Shorts... Also there is something really funny to me about a giant bear letting Illusionen into a cat... So Enjoy!

(BTW still thinking over the other ask... and working on it don't worry!)

------------------

Ellie huffed as Danny reprimanded her for her actions. She just huffed crossing her arms. She was just helping Danny. Her mom got a lot on his shoulders and she as the sort of oldest saw that the best. Sure technically Dan was older then her but, he shrunk down to kid level again and now she was the oldest.

Well if she ignored her other brothers but they were only saved recently and still in treatment with Frostbite. So she was the oldest. End of story.

"Ellie you can't just go off like that you know that messing with an Ancient is not-"

"Mom, That Nabu-Guy was being a pain in the a- " - "Ellie!" - "A PAIN, babbling on to much about Order here Order there. How keeping Balance means keeping Order and bla bla bla!" She cut in stopping her mom before he could go on another rant about the Ancients, she needed to treat with respect.

"He doesn't respect you, the Ancient of Balance! You are the literal Symbol of Balance between Life and Death! Aside from being the Ghost King. So of course I had to mess with the one HE mentors!" Ellie added huffing as she crossed her arms.

Danny pinched the bridge of his nose. "Ellie, you created an entire alternate persona!"

"Yea so?"

"You used an illusion spell on Fluffels!"

"And? Any good Anit-Hero needs a Mascot." Ellie shrugged once more looking up at her mom before looking over to Fluffels, her pet ghost grizzly that was pretty much double maybe even tripple her size and the fluffiest ghost grizzly you could find in the entire Ghost Zone, and the cutest.

Danny on the other hand groaned, wondering if he had done anything wrong while raising Danielle. Sure he had been a teen himself but good damit why the hell did Ellie decided messing with the Ancient of Order or rather his mentee was a good idea. "I am calling Jazz! You can explain to her what you were thinking!"

He was definitely to overworked and stressed to deal with Ellies mischievousness right now. Well she did call her alternate persona Klarion, Lord of Chaos. Nope! He was not dealing with this right now, so Danny did the sanest thing he could think of. Turning on his heel and walking away. Where to? Who cares maybe he would check in with his old man Clockwork and see what Ellie had actually been up to, instead of just reading through Nabu's complains.

Ellie on the other hand blinked watching her mom leave before calling after him. "Does that mean I have to stop, being Klarion?"

"Mom?!"

"MOM!"

------------------

"Well hello my lovely Amadillos! Long time not seen!"

Ellie shouted cheerfully as she twirled into appearing hair styled into a horn like form, black suit and she might have over done it a little with the black eyeliner but hey it was an iconic look wasn't it. She smirked as Fluffles growled which translated into a meow for the mortals before her thank to the illusion spell.

The mortal teen looked up at her surprised as she floated down her hand glowing with red ectoplasm (a color change from her usual green ectoplasm that had taken a while to learn from Pandora). Young Justice was currently transporting something of interest to her. Well of Interest for the Justice League, really but Doctor Fate was involved which meant Nabu was involved, which naturally meant she would get involved. It didn't hurt that she would also get to try to try some new tricks.

"You got something interesting there... and I want that." She grinned. Ellie didn't give them long before she acted using the new tricks she had learned.

"Woah! Hey there, watch the pointy and sharp thowies!" She laughed making a quick shield as she blocked some batarangs and arrows before blinking.

"Hey they look different. Robin, did you change equipment? Did you get a new haircut too?" She asked curious but didn't really receive an answer as they ignored her questions and shouted something about distracting her while the others continue the transportation. Still she bend down to pick one of them up twirling it between her fingers. "What gives didn't they have a different design before?"

In hindsight it was probably not a good idea to just abandon her original goal but Robin was making her curious. And she could always find a different way to mess with Nabu. Her mom had given her an indirect okay years ago anyway.

"Teekl!" She called out and only her eyes could see how Fluffles jumped at the call growling in response as he swatted away some of the more annoying Young Justice kids. To the mortals it probably looked like Teekl was using ectoplasm, or well magic, in their eyes.

She used that change to go up into Robins face smirking widely as she looked at the other more closely, trying to get a read on him. "You are different! You aren't the same Robin I meet before!"

She ducked in time avoid Superboy as she hopped back excited with a new idea for her family.

But first she would have to deal with the little chaos and mischief she was creating.

------------------

".....and that is how I learned that the Robin title is getting passed down. So I was thinking of doing the same!" Ellie broadly stated looking at all her younger siblings before her. "We all get pretty annoyed with the way Nabu treats Mom so there always has to be a Lord of Chaos to 'balance' Nabu out!"

She grinned at her siblings expecting the same kind of excitement she had and they didn't disappoint. Danny had been there for all of them, even going so far as in to find a way with Clockwork to save some of their lives. So of course they all would jump at the change to mess with the one Ancient that was badmouthing their Mother just because Balance didn't entitle Order the way they wanted.

After all Chaos was needed to Balance Order out.

This was going to be fun...

[Follow up part Linked here]

638 notes · View notes

meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 9 months ago

Text

Supersons +1 prompt answer

If you asked Danny, 12 year old half-ghost hero of Amity Park, how half-life was going, he'd tell you things were mixed.

On the one hand, he had just spent the last three or four months in family/scientist/'this house is a death trap waiting to happen' therapy with Jazz, and by some miracle, it worked. He wasn't sure if this was some kind of dream as his parents poured over years upon years of research, crossing out lines, rewriting equations, and reevaulating everything they thought they knew about ghosts.

Was the shudders family therapy worth not going over how they'd like to dissect him? he's still not sure. The horror.

Not to mention the attention. Danny was sure he was going to throw up if his parents drag him away for more bonding time, only for a ghost to attack and for him to run off to transform. What made it worse was when the Fentons came barrelling out, guns blazing, alternating between getting mad that he'd interrupted their family time, and asking him questions about "Your suspicious spook culture, if you even have one you dangerous delusional delinquent!"

At least they were trying, but Danny was very much comfortable not spilling the beans on the whole half-ghost situation, thank you very much.

And that's why, when Dad proposed to take him to Gotham to show off their latest invention, he jumped at the chance. The home city of the Batman, one of the greatest heroes known to man (except for Martian Manhunter and Superman of course) and Dad promised to take him to Gotham Observatory too. Not to mention how much he wanted to get away from Jazz's smug looks of superiority. Gotham here he comes!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Damian Wayne scowled as he scanned the crowed of scientists with more smarts than sense. Really, a flying toilet seat. For what deviant?

"Maybe they're for people who can fly." Kent piped up beside him. Father had let the two of them run off together, and his company was mildly more appealing than being alone with his thoughts.

"Why would Superman ever need to relieve himself mid-air. I do not believe you would appreciate your father's rear end being on display for all the world to see."

"True." Jon hummed. His voice lowered to a whisper. "You think indecent exposure is what your dad meant by "scoping out any potential future villains?"

Damian gave Jon a flat look. The sooner this convention ended, the better.

The crowded shifted, and the mass of visitors pushed toward a certain corner, where a man large enough to rival Superman's build stood upon a podium, with a boy their age off to the side.

"Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce to you the latest in FentonWorks' innovations, the Fenton Ghost Zone Radar, soon to revolutionise the study of ghosts!"

"I thought ghosts were a magic thing." Jon said. "You know, stuff Constantine and JLD deal with."

"They are."

"Mixing magic and science is like, like, oil and water. No way this guy's serious, is he?"

"His name is Jack Fenton. That's Daniel Fenton, his son." Damian pointed to the boy in question, looking like he'd seen this scene a hundred times before, but with that knowing glint that promised something deeper. "They're normally spotted alongside Jack's wife, Madeline. Widely regarded as quacks by the larger scientific community for chasing paper-thin theories about ghosts, they've nonetheless gained funding from the government. This is the first time they've left their base of operations in Amity Park for years."

"Woah, you know your stuff, Dami!"

Damian glared at the young Superboy in disguise. "I read the briefing files. Didn't you?"

Kent looked uncomfortable and looked away. "Uhh, maybe?"

"Typical."

"Well, if he's so crazy, then why'd your dad even let him in." Upon another scathing glare, Kent relented. "Oh right, the whole supervillain thing."

"Enough chatter. We'll zero in on the younger Fenton. I intend to squeeze him like a grape, and make Father proud."

"Dami maybe you should be a little nicer-" Only for Damian to march off without him.

Honestly, inane niceties were above someone of his status. Those things were Superboy's job, and if Daniel Fenton wouldn't crack, then Damian was itching to try a new torture technique.

@impyssadobsessions

521 notes · View notes

starry-eyed-wild-child · 7 months ago

Text

🌻 tate langdon boyfriend headcanons 🌻

tate langdon x reader

💜 oh lord, buckle up guys, you're in for a wild one

🧡 he definitely fell first and 100% harder and you can't tell me otherwise

💜 we all know how tate is, he's very clingy and he's very very possessive of what's his. and that's how he views you, you're his and nobody else's

🧡 would definitely stay hidden at first, just so he could watch you for a bit. at this point, there's nothing about you that tate doesn't know

💜 when you finally meet, tate swears he could die all over again and he'd die happy

🧡 tate would definitely act more innocent than he actually is. this boy knows how to cry on command and he will use it to his advantage, don't think just because he loves you that he wouldn't

💜 if anything, he does it because he loves you and he can't have you leave him like violet did

🧡 i hope you like nirvana, because tate will not listen to something that you like if he doesn't enjoy it. he's not very good at that

💜 tate always needs to be touching you. all the time. whether it's an arm around you or holding hands, this boy craves physical touch and to be the centre of your attention

🧡will probably try his best to get your friends to stop hanging around you so he can have you all to himself. will deliberately scare them to stop them from coming to the house

💜 would also certainly lie about ever doing such a thing were you to confront him about it

🧡 tate wouldn't ever want you to ever leave the house., if he had his way that is. would hate it if you chose to spend time with other people

💜 like what did they have that he didn't?

🧡 he would 100% be the type that watches you even when you're asleep. or anytime, really.

💜 would definitely want you to commit suicide, so that you can be with him forever. you of course find this idea insane and don't think he actually means it

🧡 he does. he's 100% serious

💜 i can imagine that tate gives really good hugs though. the warm, bear hugs that you never want to leave because they make you feel so secure and safe

🧡 is very big on comforting you after a bad day. he'll listen to your rants, let you cry in your arms, whatever you need him for and he'll do it

💜 let's be honest though, it's probably just another way he gains your trust so that you won't ever think of leaving him

🧡 feels extremely guilty if he ever hurt you in any way, or upset you

💜would probably just disappear for a few days because he can't face the fact that he's hurt you. but obviously he comes back because the boy can't help himself

🧡 tate is your ride or die. he would die for you all over again if you asked him to and alternatively would kill for you if that's what you required

💜 makes silly little handmade gifts for you. tate can't leave the house so he has time to be creative

🧡 it's even better if it's raining outside when he makes them, it sets a nice vibe

💜 loves, loves halloween. the two of you would carve pumpkins together and sit for hours in your room telling ghost stories and drinking apple cider

🧡 if tate had his own way, you'd never meet his mother

💜you do eventually and she probably hates you lmao, but do we really care let's be real here

🧡 tate is the kind of boyfriend that would make a playlist for you as a present

💜 he'd try his hardest to make sure you don't find out about his past. which lasted about 2 months max because you're not stupid

🧡 violet, vivien and moira would try and protect you at all costs. they're like your three guardian angels, whether they decide to show themselves to you or not

💜 i imagine you'd actually get on with violet really well

🧡 this could go one of two ways with tate. he'd love it, both girls he'd loved were getting along, makes his life easier. or, he'd hate it. hate that you choose to spend time with the girl that broke his heart

💜 isn't really big on nicknames tbh, he thinks your name is the most beautiful word he knows, and so he wouldn't dream of calling you anything else

🧡 tate is 100% the little spoon, don't fight me on this

💜 absolutely lives for your affection. he thrives best on it

🧡 would be sweet but low-key toxic, so solid 6/10

#ahs #ahs murder house #tate langdon #tate langdon x reader #evan peters #evan peters x reader

382 notes · View notes

mitsuyeaah · 1 year ago

Note

i saw the “misunderstanding” anon, and i got an idea. i was wondering if you could give us any hcs for the “first time” with (any of) the tokyo rev boys? (if you want to write this of course, no pressure).

-💊

NEW PLEASURES

syn: first time being intimate with the twin dragons.

TR ft. MITSUYA, DRAKEN

cw: virgin!reader, nsfw (mdni), smut, unprotected sex, very very soft taka-chan and draken, pet names (darling)

a/n: thank u for sending this in, 💊 anon!! also, i only picked two characters for this one because it’s a bit long. i wrote this half drunk so yeh apologies if its a bit off <3

₊✮⸜ ༘⋆ TAKASHI MITSUYA

— VERY attentive. mitsuya has to have his eyes on your face at all times to look for any discomfort; he’s just very sweet but also very concerned, and at least has to ask many times if you’re really sure before doing anything further, it’s cute that he cares so much but it gets you impatient. very vanilla—it may seem boring to others but he knows how to work himself to give you that sweet release. it’s your first time, he wants it to be heavenly of course, and boy he does fulfil it.

“yes, mitsuya, i’m sure.” you let out a breathless chuckle as his lips ghosted up the side of your neck, alternating between kissing, biting and sucking, leaving love bruises of dark red and purple. “fuck. you’re so beautiful, you know?” you earned a groan from mitsuya as you wrapped your hands around his shaft, languidly stroking it. you don’t know how many times he has asked if you were sure—not that you were counting it—and you were growing rather impatient. he bowed his head in pleasure, resting his forehead on your shoulder for a bit before taking ahold of his shaft and aligning the tip at your sopping entrance. “tell— tell me if you’re uncomfortable, okay? i’ll stop if it hurts..” he swallowed thickly.

you wordlessly nodded and gazed up at his eyes, pools of lilac clouded with lust yet mixed with hesitancy. mitsuya placed a chaste kiss on your forehead before pushing the tip in. both your’s and his breathing getting heavier the second the two of you made contact. you bit your lip and furrowed your brows at the unfamiliar sensation between your legs—it wasn’t uncomfortable, no. it was.. just weird. the feeling of something parting you was entirely new and you wanted more of it despite the dull pain you were starting to feel from the stretch.

mitsuya’s eyes never left your face. as much as he wanted to close them due to the overwhelming pleasure, he kept them open to see any signs of discomfort on your face. he gritted his teeth as he slowly inched his hard cock. fuck, you were hugging him so tight that he could almost see stars. you nails dug into the bare flesh of his shoulders, a dull pain mixed with pleasure had started to make itself known “haaah!— mitsuya!” the man above you stilled his hips.

“d-do you want me to—ah stop?” panic was written all over his handsome face; lips parted, eyes wide, and brows knitted together. you shook your head profusely, “mhm.. no, please. keep going..” the man above you nodded his head, he gave your nose a peck before pushing the remainder of his length into you. you screwed your eyes shut, chest heaving up and down as you concentrated on relaxing your muscles so he could push himself further inside; mitsuya wasn’t too thick but he was long. “aah fuuck..” you groaned as he stretched you out, it wasn’t an overwhelming stretch but it was enough to make you bite your lips.

mitsuya let out a deep, shaky exhale as he bottomed out. fuck, you felt so full. “hey..” he whispered, holding your gaze as the corners of his lips tugging up. his hot breath ghosted over your face as he panted. “h-hey..” you meekly smiled up. he cupped your face with a palm and rubbed your cheek with his thumb to soothe you—his eyes were twinkling with love and adoration. you knew why mitsuya was doing this, he was trying to distract you from the pain as he stretched you out; giving you time to accomodate his length. “you’re so beautiful, y’know that?” he chuckled breathlessly and dipped his head below your chin to pepper your neck with kisses.

you let out a soft moan at the feeling of his soft lips against your skin, nails gently scraping down his back. “taka.. please move. i want you so bad..” you whined, impatiently moving your hips to chase after some kind of friction. the pain was now gone and you wanted all the pleasure you could get as impatience grew between your legs. mitsuya was caught off guard at the use of his first name but he didn’t need to focus on that at the moment. “what my darling wants, my darling gets.” and with that, he started moving his hips.

the two of you fell into a unison, sounds of pleasure bouncing off the walls as you both lose yourselves in each other’s presence. the night was hot and humid but neither of you cared, not when mitsuya showed you new pleasures no one else could give you. new pleasures that you didn’t know existed until he held you in his arms as you gave yourself to him.

₊✮⸜ ༘⋆ KEN ‘DRAKEN’ RYUGUJI

— just like mitsuya, draken is also very attentive. since he is ehem on the bigger side, he’s afraid of hurting you especially because it’s your first time. he kisses the tears away that roll down your cheeks; draken wants to stop what he’s doing because he thinks he might be hurting you too much but you reassure him, nonetheless. draken tends to be on the rougher side but with your virginity kept in mind, he restrains himself with all the power in his body—it’s hard, yes but for you he’s willing to hold back.

“no, ken! please don’t stop.. it’s okay, i’m fine.” you shook your head, gripping his broad shoulders. concern was written all over his face, onyx eyes filled with hesitancy. ken was halfway inside you and the burn between your legs almost felt unbearable; he was fucking huge, and tears had started to form from how much he was stretching you out but the pleasure was immense too—you wanted more. yes, the pain was there but the pleasure felt more addicting.

the second ken saw a tear roll down your cheek, he immediately halted, panic settling in every muscle of his body but hearing your words reassure him, it somewhat put him in ease. “‘m sorry.. we can— we can stop right now if you want..” he mumbled, dipping his head to kiss at the tears that decorated your face. shaking your head once more, he nodded and started to move again, easing his cock into you inch by inch. ken groaned at your tightness, burying his face into the junction of your neck as his body trembled in pleasure.

he wrapped his arms around you—one hand resting on the crown of your head, and the other gripping your arm. the way your cunt sucked him in drove him absolutely crazy and it took all his willpower not to move for his own pleasure, because for you, he’ll hold back. you arched your back, letting out a high pitched moan as ken bottomed out. you felt full, you’ve never felt this way before. it was amazing yet foreign at the same time, the emptiness between your legs was suddenly gone and you were closer than ever with ken.

his breath fanned the side of your neck as his hips stilled. it was funny because ken swore he was giving you this time to adjust to his length yet it felt like he was the one who needed to adjust to how you were gripping him. a string of profanities rolled off his tongue, his body was completely still on top of you because if he moved even just an inch, he’d cum in an instant. “a-are you okay..?” you breathlessly whispered, stroking the expanse of his back, your fingers moulding against every dip and curve of his muscles. he was supposed to be asking you that not the other way around—you were taking his cock like a champ yet ken was the one trembling in pleasure that made his head spin. you made his head spin. “fu-fuck.. yes yes, ‘m okay.. how are you?” he lifted his head from your neck to meet your gaze.

“never better.” you replied. he gave you a lopsided smile before sealing your lips together. his kisses were fuelled with want, the ways his lips moved, and head eagerly pushing further into you face said it all. ken pulled back after the heated kiss, massaging at the bare skin of your hips before moving; this pulled a drawled out moan from the both of you, such little movement causing you two to sing in pleasure.

but before ken could push back in, you placed a palm flat against his bare chest, his muscles flexing under your touch. “a-are you hurt anywhe—” “ken, please don’t hold back.” you’ve sensed his hesitancy earlier and you knew he was holding himself back for you—as sweet as that was, you didn’t want him doing that because it didn’t feel like himself at all. when you said you wanted the entirety of ken, you meant it, so you didn’t want him to hold back. he sucked in a sharp breath at your words, you didn’t miss the way his cock twitched inside you. “fuck, baby.. don’t say things like that..” “i mean it. it’s okay.”

with that, ken didn’t hesitate to show you the most intimate part of himself as the two of you became one—moulding with one another with every thrust he gave you. you held onto him like your life depended on it, nails digging into his shoulders as your lips parted to beg his name like a mantra. the worries of hurting you were long gone, ken was able to spell out the adventures of these new pleasures all over your body, and you let him. you let him do it all until the two of you were engulfed in nothing but pure bliss.

694 notes · View notes

24-05txt · 1 month ago

Text

He spits in the vicinity of the guy's face and immediately braces when he sees a gloved hand raise. It's not a flinch—its not—but he needs to be ready when they hit him.

"Hey, Soap," says the man looking over him, quiet and even and casual, and Soap's mind is sent reeling, suddenly, because the last time he heard this voice in that tone was in a shitty kitchenette at three in the morning. Must've been days ago now (at least).

"Ghost?" He tilts his chin up, trying to look down his nose and under the blindfold. If he's hallucinating, he at least wants to see it.

"Yeah. I've got you." A rough, leather-clad hand comes to rest on the side of his head and the blindfold lifts and it's Ghost on the other side. Ghost is crouched over him. Ghost tosses the blindfold away and makes eye-contact with Soap for a long few seconds.

"...Ghost?" He asks again, and hates how plaintive it sounds. He desperately wants to say something funny, even curse a little bit, have a witty quip to kickstart some banter; something to say 'I'm alright, Lt.' But he can't think of a single thing.

Thankfully, Ghost covers for him (as usual) when he says, “that's my name, don't wear it out,” and shifts the hand on Soap’s cheek, taking a more firm hold. “Give us a sit-rep, Johnny, are you injured?”

His thoughts stutter a little, like a car struggling to shift into gear.

"Dunno what time it is," he rasps. His voice is hoarse from alternating between stubborn silence and full-volume yelling with very little between. "Estimate about two days here. Taken a few blows to the head, spotty circulation to my left hand, got me drunk off something a while back—"

"I can smell that much," Ghost grumbles, and Soap can't help but laugh—dry and brittle—at the offense in his tone.

"That bad, is it?"

"Certainly didn't waste the good stuff on you, Sergeant."

Ghost knows what it's like; laying flat on your back, helpless, unable to think anything other than 'it hurts, I'm in pain, I want someone with me. Anyone. Please, God, someone. I dont want to be alone.'

Nobody had come for him—the eldest son of an eldest son—not since his mother was killed. Even then, sparingly (though it pained him to admit any fault on her part. Heavy weight in his chest. Tight throat.) Even after Price came along to play at a guardian, Simon had already been convinced of his place with others. He knew he'd never be able to depend on anyone ever again, not really. Couldn't expect them to come looking for him. Couldn't expect his little brother or his mom to step up when his father put hands on him.

He doesn't know what Johnny's home situation is like; doesn't know if he has siblings, how many, what his place in the pecking order is, if he likes his mum. It's easy to imagine Johnny as someone constantly surrounded by family, but Ghost is all too aware of the things he hasn't heard his Sergeant talk about.

He doesn’t know who comes to bat for John MacTavish, but he isn't shy to count himself among their numbers (however many or few it may be). Simon's had a long time to wish for someone to depend on—has had even longer to give up on it—and he knows what he'd want, in this situation. What he'd want in a Lieutenant. A brother. A friend.

So he gives Johnny a gentle voice, firm hands. Moves quick and efficient and withholds every apology he tries to give for the obvious overwhelm. He treats Johnny himself, lets him shy away from the medics, and is quietly relieved at the lack of serious injury.

The line gets a little blurrier when he wants to tuck Johnny up under his chin, hold him tight against his chest and listen to him breathe. Is that something he wanted, at some point? Does he want that for Johnny or himself?

The fact that he lets Simon do that—curls up against him and sheds quiet, exhausted tears—is... fucking hell it's something all of its own.

#think this is as finished as this one is getting #but look! theres some comfort to go with this hurt #instead of straight up hurt #if you have an emotion over it please tell me i like to make tally marks in my little booklet #cod:mwii #ghostsoap #john soap mactavish #ghost #simon ghost riley #soapghost #im just trying to clear out my notes app tbh #soapghost fic #cod fanfic #do believe i can safely call this:#angst #notes-app-clutter.zip #DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD I HAD TO WORK FOR THAT DIVIDER??#too damn hard

33 notes · View notes

marlynnofmany · 2 years ago

Text

The Oddest of Odd Jobs

Captain Piercing Sunlight rubbed her knuckles together, making yellow scales click. It was a more worrying sign of agitation than when Paint did it. The good captain was concerned.

“I imagine more opportunities will be posted soon,” she said, staring up at the job board. Not a single one of the posts was a request for a courier ship, or even passenger transport. It was all local stuff for this colony world. Surprising, really, since the people living here surely needed stuff they couldn’t make for themselves yet, but nobody seemed to be asking for a delivery.

“We could try the other colony,” Kavlae suggested, pointing vaguely over her shoulder while a gust of wind ruffled her head frills. With the sky-blue tone of her skin, she looked cold in the breeze, but that was normal. “I spotted a big spaceport while we were coming in.” Kavlae always noticed alternate landing sites; it was part of what made her a good pilot.

Before Captain Sunlight could reply, Zhee hissed sharply, which I’d learned was the bug-alien equivalent of a skeptical snort. “They’ll know we came from this one,” he said. “The local news said there’s feuding already.”

“What, really?” Kavlae asked while Captain Sunlight sighed deeply. “Weren’t the colonies started by the same group? They’ve got the whole planet to share, and they’re feuding?”

“Territorial species,” Zhee said with a dismissive click of his pincher arms. “Not enough food-plants to go around, apparently.”

“Keep your voice small,” warned the captain with a pointed glance at the nearest large passerby, who could crush any of us with a single hoof. Not a species to insult carelessly, or even on purpose. Six limbs, two of which were sometimes arms, lots of muscle, and even antlers. Nobody had told me the species name yet, but I was privately calling them Space Moose.

“Fine, fine,” Zhee said, folding his pinchers grumpily and glaring up at the board.

Captain Sunlight looked up as well. “Is there anything on here that looks do-able?” she asked, addressing all three of us.

I studied the grid of job posts. The rest of our crew was busy getting supplies — I hoped we weren’t about to skim over something that another person would catch. But just as I thought it, my eyes fell on a posting from a human ship.

“Oh, someone lost a dog!” I exclaimed, pointing. “They couldn’t find it before they left. That’s so sad.”

“We can keep an eye out,” Captain Sunlight said. “Our ship doesn’t have any of the fancy bio-scanners for seeking out that sort of thing.”

I read the whole post, looking for details. A three-year-old husky, male, “exceptionally fluffy,” named Matt. Which was short for Mattress. I loved him already.

“How recent is the post?” Kavlae asked.

“Just two days ago,” I said. “I hope the dog is okay. It says they last saw him at the edge of town.”

“There is a thriving ecosystem here,” Captain Sunlight reminded me gently. “The animal can surely find its way.”

“But he’ll be lonely,” I said, forlorn. Poor Mattress.

Before I could whine about it further, Zhee laughed and pointed at a different post, tapping it with one of his little wrist fingers. “Look at this. Anyone fancy being an exorcist today?” At his tap, the post unfurled a map and a sound clip. He pressed play.

A very familiar yodeling howl filled the air. Unsettling, if you were an alien herbivore. A glance at my crewmates showed that none of them recognized it either.

I grinned. “You guys, we have to be exorcists today.”

* * *

“We saw it again just last night,” said the enormous space moose, his deep voice going high with nerves. “It actually went into our shed, and no one is ready to go see if it’s gone yet.”

“I will check for you,” I assured him. Captain Sunlight was letting me take point on this job, and Zhee was doing his best to keep his sarcasm to himself. Kavlae looked nervous.

“You don’t need anything else?” the space moose asked. “Armor, weapons?”

“No, I’m pretty sure this ghost is friendly,” I said, holding up the only two things I had brought: a sheet of fish jerky and a clip-rope from the cargo bay. “At least, he should be happy to see me. But you guys stay back, okay?”

The towering behemoth was more than ready to stay behind. Several other moosey faces peered through a long window in the house nearby. They hadn’t even come outside. Captain Sunlight told Zhee and Kavlae to stay where they were, and to give the human space to work.

I looped the rope over my shoulder and approached the shed on quiet feet. The post had said the dog wasn’t aggressive, but I knew full well how unpredictable fear could make an animal. (People too, really. All the more reason for the others to hang back.)

The shed was big, more what would pass for house-sized where I was from, and it just seemed to get bigger. Plain-looking otherwise. Flat beige walls and a slanted roof, no windows. A door that stood open. A spill of pellets all over the floor, which proved to be from the torn corner of a bag like I’d seen at the market.

Grain stuff, so hopefully okay for a dog’s system, I thought, hesitating outside the doorway. As long as he didn’t eat more than his stomach can hold. Here’s hoping it tastes bad.

I cleared my throat. “Ma-att,” I singsonged. “Matt! Mattress! Here, boy!”

A rustle and a thump was all the warning I got before a very large and exceptionally fluffy dog charged out and tackled me to the ground.

The moose bellowed in panic and my crewmates shouted. Mattress licked every inch of my face, prancing and whining while I did my level best to sit up.

“It’s okay!” I called out between licks. “He’s just happy! Here, boy, do you want a treat?” I scrabbled for the jerky that I’d dropped, and managed to redirect the dog’s attention without losing a finger. I got to my feet while he tore at the jerky, tail wagging at light speed. Good thing it was the soft kind of fish jerky. At this rate, he might have hurt himself on the stiff kind.

“Are you all right?” Captain Sunlight asked from where she stood.

“I’m fine!” I said with a wave.

She and the other two had stepped away from the space moose, who seemed to be making an effort to breathe his way through a panic attack. I didn’t blame them. The poor guy looked equally likely to pick fight over flight.

Better get everybody settled, I thought, turning back to Mattress and finding the rope where it had fallen. He had a collar, thankfully. While he finished gulping down the food, I clipped the rope to his collar and wrapped the end around my hand multiple times. Then I stroked that thick fur and murmured praises.

“Is it safe?” asked the space moose in a strained voice.

“Yes, just a moment,” I said as Mattress started prancing about again. “Matt, sit.”

He sat. Huzzah. I stroked his head, and his tail thumped the ground with gusto.

“Good dog.” I took a step and tugged the leash. “Heel.”

He sprang up and trotted after me, tail wagging and tongue lolling, though with slightly less chaos-gremlin energy.

“Good boy,” I said, then led him over to where everyone waited. I didn’t get too close. “Sit,” I repeated. He sat.

The space moose was calming down admirably, though his eyes were still a little wide. “You do seem to have it well under control,” he admitted. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” I told him. “This guy just wants to go home. We can handle that.”

“You have my gratitude,” the moose said. “And now, money. Extra for speed.”

Captain Sunlight handled that part, while I stroked Mattress in a subtle search for injuries or problems stuck in his fur. He returned the favor by licking my ear with far too much saliva. I tried not to grimace, and wiped it off with my sleeve. “Good dog.”

“All right, let’s get this animal to the ship,” Captain Sunlight said.

“I’ll call up the owners for you as soon as we get there,” Kavlae said, checking her pocket communicator for the phone number from the post. We’d all saved copies.

“I’m sure they will want to see their animal in the cameras,” Captain Sunlight said, turning to me. “I trust you can keep it calm inside the cabin?”

I assured her that I could. We said our goodbyes to the space moose and his family watching from the house, then headed back to the spaceport.

Mattress followed happily, though judging by the panting, he was thirsty. There probably hadn’t been much to drink in that shed, and the jerky on top of alien kibble was bound to make things worse.

“We’ll get you a bowl of water right away,” I promised him. “Okay, boy?”

Mattress looked up at me with alert ears and that particular doggy smile.

Captain Sunlight got out her own phone. “I’ll have Wio ready one for us. How big of a bowl do you need?”

“Um, just have her fill one of the smaller cookpots. He looks pretty thirsty.”

Kavlae asked from a fair distance away, “How can you tell?”

“He’s breathing hard,” I said. “With his tongue sticking out like that.”

Zhee was also giving the dog a wide berth. “Is that why it’s doing that?” he asked. “I assumed the animal was showing off its teeth for the benefit of anyone who might offer it harm.”

“No, he’s smiling!” I said. “Look at that; that’s a happy face. Just a little thirsty.”

Zhee muttered something disparaging about predators being allowed in close range. Kavlae laughed, and Captain Sunlight shook her head.

I looked from face to face. “You guys don’t keep pets, do you?” I asked. “None of you?”

“None like that,” Captain Sunlight said. “Nothing that could kill us, no.”

“He wouldn’t do that!” I said with an exaggerated ruffle of Mattress’s fur. “He’s a good dog! And look how fluffy! Such a nice soft pillow, he’d probably let you take a nap on him.”

“No thanks,” said Zhee. “I don’t see the appeal.”

“You don’t see the appeal? Do—” My smile slipped when I really looked at Zhee’s exoskeleton. “I don’t think you can fully appreciate the feel of soft fluffy things, can you?”

Zhee’s unimpressed scoffing confirmed my suspicions. I looked to Captain Sunlight, and her own scaly hands. “What about you? Not a big deal?” I didn’t wait for her answer before turning to Kavlae, the vaguely fishy humanoid with frills everywhere. “You have proper skin! Come pet this dog!”

She didn’t want to, but under my insistence and Mattress’s continued good behavior, she finally edged forward and brushed a hand across the copious floof.

“Oh, that is soft,” she said.

“See? And he is such a good boy.” I patted him some more, and he responded by licking both of us.

Kavlae yelped, pulling back.

“It’s okay,” I hurried to say. “That means he likes you.”

“Oh,” Kavlae said. She sniffed her hand, then retched. “Oh, he smells!”

I looked down at him and had to admit, “Yeah, that’s another thing dogs do.”

“To the ship!” Captain Sunlight announced. “For water, a phone call, and then a thorough cleansing! Which I’m sure our favorite animal expert can handle, yes?”

I sighed. “Yes. I won’t enjoy it, though.”

Zhee hissed a laugh. “Maybe you can take a nap on the creature afterward.”

“Maybe! Just you watch. Might have to tire him out a bit first though. I’m sure nobody would mind a game of fetch in the cargo bay, right?”

Captain Sunlight gave me a look, but she didn’t say no.

~~~

The ongoing adventures in backstory for this book! More to come.

#my writing #the Token Human #I got Mattress's name from that other post about names #a couple weeks ago #his humans absolutely have a cat named Missy too (Missile Launcher)#fun with names #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #haso #hfy #eiad #dogs #good dogs #in spaaace #space moose

421 notes · View notes

emotelizardrambling · 5 months ago

Text

Okay, so the idea was what if the BitterSweet Trio were friends as kids.

Because I have an all-consuming need to make things more complicated, my brain decided to come up with an entire alternate storyline to BitterSweet, where the roles are kind of reversed, and then build a childhood friends/rivals, to pining ot3, to lovers plotline...

This is the first part of it.

CW: mentioned domestic abuse, mentioned drastic personality change of romantic partner, mentioned (implied) mental illness requiring medication, cursing

Notes:

Background written up in a post here, but short version is:

SB was best friends with Seth and Frenemies with Alphonse when they were growing up.

SB was forced to leave without saying goodbye to Seth or Alphonse and remained separated from the two until sometime (less than a year) after Al's parents died, when they ran into Seth.

Shit with Derek didn't happen in this universe.

Seth and Al never worked for the gang in this universe and are still together after Al takes over the shop. (They still had some dealings with the gang and did meet Charlie through those.)

SB has an emotional support cat named Shade who is absolutely best boy and very smart.

While SB, Shade, and SB's partner are my brain children everyone else is from YuuriVoice's BitterSweet series. So all rights are his.

No beta we die like Derek did before he had a chance to fuck up the boys' lives in this universe.

End notes.

“Hello, this is the Corner Store.”

It's strange to hear a voice on the other end that sounds so much like Al's dad, but also clearly isn't. It sounds nothing like the boy they knew as a kid, but…

“Alphonse?” SB asked hesitantly, not certain they had even remembered the number correctly.

“Speaking,” he responded, and SB was relieved for a moment, until he asked, “who ’s this?”

“I…” SB suddenly realized they had no clue why they actually called the shop. What were they even hoping anyone could do for them? This whole mess had nothing to do with Al or Seth or anyone else, but at the same time SB couldn’t bring themself to just hang up. They searched for words, “I…. I’m sorry… I don’t,” SB was cut off by their own sob before they even realized they were crying. Shade rubbed against their foot trying to soothe his person. “I… he broke my phone… I … I don’t know any other numbers,” they tried to explain.

“Okay, hey, it’s okay,” Alphonse spoke gently, “just take it slow, take a breath.”

SB tried, but only managed a cough that made their cat urgently nudge their legs.

“Slow breaths. In …. Hold…. Out… with me okay.” Al talked them through enough breaths to ease their panic a little. They also crouched to pet Shade which helped.

“That’s it, can you tell me your name?” he asked more hesitantly this time.

With their breath mostly back they couldn’t really control the torrent of words they let out. “Fuck. I’m sorry, I call you out of nowhere and I’m just crying like an idiot, standing in an old phone booth that smells like weed and piss, with my cat at… I don’t even know what time it is, and the only person I can even call is my childhood best friend’s boyfriend, ‘cause I never bothered to memorize anyone’s phone number and even if I did I…”

Alphonse cut them off. “Boo?” It had been years since they had been called that. You play the ghost dude a few times in Mario Kart… but they had to admit, right now, they welcomed the familiar nickname.

“I… yeah… it’s me. You can hang up if you want. I… fuck I don’t even know why I called to begin with. I mean even if Seth was there or something, what would either of you even do? I should have just waited till he calmed down, or, or left or something.” SB continued to ramble until Al cut in again.

“Woah, hey, Boo!” he called for their attention. “Hey, it’s okay, I’m not gonna hang up on ya, just… what the hell is goin’ on? ‘Cause what I’m hearing is that you’re hiding out from somebody in a phone booth with your cat.”

“I… well… kind of, yeah. I’m not really hiding, I just,” they attempted to clarify but trailed off knowing it would sound bad. “How did it get to be such a mess?” they ask themself. They were still processing the last half hour or so in their head. Their partner had been off for weeks, his brother was fairly sure he stopped taking his medication, and when SB tried to ask him about it he would just insist they drop it.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“I… I went a few blocks and this is like one of those phone boxes with a door, I figured I could put shade down without worrying about him running away or something. I had some change in my pocket but I couldn’t remember any phone numbers…”

“I mean, before that. Why are you in a phone booth with your cat? Are you hurt? Is someone trying to hurt you?”

They took a few more breaths, They didn’t want to explain it all to Al, Seth had talked about how much Al had grown up since they were kids, so they didn’t really think that he would be an asshole about it, but they knew if it had to do with them, Al would tell Seth. Seth who, ever since elementary school, looked out for them as if they were family, who may well assume the worst case scenario, considering his own experiences. “I’m not hurt… or, well, not really…” They absently rubbed their arm. My partner… he isn't like this. He stopped taking his meds, and then, tonight, he saw that I was texting Seth and somehow he thought that meant I was cheating on him, even though I told him about Seth before, and even that you two were together.”

“Did he try to hurt you?”

“He… I don’t think he meant to, but I’ve never seen them like that before. There was yelling, and he threw my phone down. Then he grabbed my arm and I panicked, Shade scratched his leg and, before he could do anything else, I grabbed Shade and locked myself in the bathroom. I… I don’t do well when I feel trapped though, so I climbed out of the window and made it a couple blocks before I even stopped to think… I don’t even know if he realizes I left.”

“Fuck, okay, look I’ll… shit it’ll take me at least half an hour to get there.”

“What? No you don’t have to do anything I just…”

“Even if you hung up right now I’d be heading into the city to look for ya, you shouldn't have to be alone after something like that.” he must have sensed they were about to argue, so he added, “And let’s not even mention what Seth would do if I told him and didn’t already have a plan for getting you out of there safely. He'd probably rather go get you himself, but I can’t imagine that cat of yours would enjoy riding a motorcycle.”

“Look I appreciate it, but it really isn’t that big of a deal.”

“Well if it isn’t a big deal I’ll just drive over there and check on you. Or,” Al’s tone wavered a little, “I mean, if this is about me being… well… me, I can get Seth to…”

“No!” SB cut him off. “I mean, it isn’t that. I don’t mind you. I just…”

“Great, is there anywhere nearby where you could hang out for half an hour? Somewhere that maybe doesn’t smell like piss and weed? A public place, a coffee shop, or restaurant?”

“I… I doubt it, and even then I have Shade, and I don’t have his harness or carrier or anything.”

“Right, okay, where are you?

“I… I’m near the corner of 8th and Kennedy drive.”

“Okay, listen, I got a… well, I know a guy. Pretty sure he still lives around there and he… he’s kinda a rat bastard to be honest, but he’s harmless and scared shitless of me n’ Seth. He owes us a few favors too so, if you’re okay with it, I could call him to meet up with you. I don’t like the idea of you sitting alone for so long, and I can ask him to find something to keep your cat from running off so you aren't stuck in a phone booth.”

The last part was the most enticing. It really did smell and SB didn't do great with really strong smells. “Yeah, okay. I mean you really don’t….”

“I want to help. Hell, even if I didn’t owe you for all the dumb-ass shit I did when we were in school, you’re Seth’s best friend, and I know you deserve a lot better than all this. Now I'm gonna call my guy and let Seth know what’s up. I’ll be there in a little over half an hour. If that ‘partner’ of yours shows up you call the fucking cops on his ass or something. You hear me?”

“I… Yeah. Thank you, Alphonse.”

“No problem Boo. I’ll see ya soon alright?”

“Yeah. I’ll see you soon.”

—

#yuurivoice #yuurivoice bittersweet #yuurivoice alphonse #yuurivoice seth #seth yuurivoice #alphonse yuurivoice #bittersweet yuurivoice #bittersweet #bittersweet trio #platonic for now #but throuple endgame #cw mention of being hit by a romantic partner #cw mention of violence #cw mentioned personality change due to a mental disorder

28 notes · View notes

sneakyblinders · 2 years ago

Text

this line of work pt 2

A/N: part two! read part one here. there will be a pt 3. this one is dark, you guys. please heed the warnings and do not proceed if any of the warnings will upset or trigger you. this may seem OOC for our darling couple but they're going through a not so great time. the meds really get to Tommys brain ok? A part of my Tommy and his darling wife!au. warnings: violence, blood, language, Tommy is out of his mind (literally), cheating, not canon, breastfeeding a baby, Tatiana being manipulative, sexual themes, alluding to smut but no graphic depictions. 18+ only. Minors, DNI. 5.6k words. I take no credit for the gif! text dividers by @cottage-writings

Bee never left Tommy’s side in the hospital. Ada brought her clothes and toiletries, the nurses giving her a side eye when she would use the bath to wash in Tommy’s private room.

Tommy was delusional half of the time, alternating between fits of rage and extreme sorrow. Once Bee had taken a walk to get some fresh air, only to be quickly hailed by the nurses to come calm her husband.

The room was in disarray, glass shattered on the floor, his arm cut from where he had raked it through the glass shards after he’d sent the pitcher flying across the room. Bee tenderly walked over to him, unafraid of his rage. His jaw was clenched, sweat pouring from him.

“Thomas,” she said softly, sitting on the edge of his bed.

The nurses looked on in awe as his demeanor immediately shifted. “Love?” he called out to her. “Are you back?” he asked, breathless, reaching out for her.

Blood dripped on her dress. She reached out to tenderly touch his face. “I’m right here,” she told him soothingly. “Right here, Darling,” she said. He gripped her hand, vision still fuzzy, only able to make out general shapes.

“My love,” he said quietly, bringing the back of her hand to his cheek.

“You’re okay,” she said, her other hand gently on his thigh. “You’re safe. I’m with you.”

“Where–where are the babies?” he asked, panic in his eyes.

Her heart broke in her chest. This was the third time he’d asked that day. “They’re at home, with Ada, with Frances. They’re safe, Lovey,” she told him gently,

“Yeah, yeah they’re safe,” he repeated, shaking his head.

“You hurt your arm,” she said gently, more blood dripping onto her dress. “Will you let me clean it for you?”

He smiled softly. “Can’t get blood on your pretty hands, angel,” he said.

She smiled softly. “Can I ask one of the nurses to help you, then?” she asked. The nurses stood in the doorway, trembling in awe.

“Yeah, yeah, please,” he said, settling back against his pillows in his bed.

The nurse named Penny came and cleaned Tommy’s arm up while Bee assisted the nurses with cleaning up the room.

“Mrs. Shelby, we’re sorry to disturb your walk, but he just kept shouting for you,” Jane, another nurse said.

“Oh, it’s no bother at all. He–he gets like that sometimes,” Bee admitted sheepishly.

Tommy was in the hospital for three months. Bee’s leg was nearly healed now, but her heart was broken. Tommy had regained most of his eyesight, but things were still blurry. His head pounded furiously almost every second of the day and he had a nasty scar on the back of his head from where they had to do surgery to relieve some of the swelling on his brain. Thankfully, his hair covered it. Guilt burdened his heart every second of the day for all that had transpired over the last few months. The danger he had put his wife, his children, himself in.

Arthur came to drive them home from the hospital, tears in his eyes when he hugged his younger brother. “You’re alright–” he said in disbelief, cut off by a massive hug Tommy wrapped him in.

Tears ran down Bee’s face. She was ready for their lives to resume some sense of normalcy. Arthur drove them home in silence, Tommy holding Bee’s hands both of his, his body pressed up against hers in the car.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered in her ear, nuzzling her neck, lips ghosting over the tender skin.

“I’ve been with you almost every moment,” she said, an embarrassed smile on her face as her eyes met Arthur's in the rearview mirror.

“Not enough,” Tommy rasped. “Every second of every day wouldn’t be enough with you,” he told her.

Arthur uncomfortably cleared his throat. “Uh–when–when’re you gonna be back at the office, Tom?” he asked, shifting in his seat.

Tommy sighed. “Monday I’d guess.”

It was Saturday. “What about the children?” Bee asked.

“What about them?” Tommy asked, reaching for a cigarette and his lighter. Bee was certain she could feel the walls of her heart separating from one another. Tommy saw the look in her eyes, his expression changing immediately. “That’s not what I meant, Darling,” he quickly said, reaching for her hands again as she pulled away from him.

Ada was waiting in the foyer with the children when Tommy and Bee returned home. Peter ran to his father. “Daddy!” he yelled, running towards him at full speed. Tommy bent down to pick him up, his head spinning from the quick motion.

“My boy!” Tommy said, tears in his eyes.

“Daddy!” Peter cried again, pressed against his fathers chest, his face in his shoulder. “I missed you!”

Tommy’s heart swelled. “I missed you too, son. Have you been good? Eh?” he asked, looking his son in the face.

He looked just like him, but everything about him was Bee. He was a good boy with the best heart. “Yes, I’ve been good. Ask Sara!” he giggled as Tommy peppered his little face with kisses.

Bee had gone to pick up baby Katherine from Ada’s arms. She was still so small, but doing better by all standards the doctors had set. Tommy’s breath hitched in his throat at his baby–his baby girl. His baby girl that he had neglected for all of her life thus far.

“Peter,” Tommy said gently to his son, setting him down. “How about you go pick a story for all of us to read tonight, hm? You and me and Mummy? We’ll all curl up in the big bed tonight before bedtime and Mummy can read us a story,” he said, and Peter’s eyes lit up.

“Okay, Daddy!” he said, running up the stairs towards his room.

He hadn’t noticed where Bee had taken the baby to, looking to Ada for some direction. “She’s in the sitting room, Tom. The baby got hungry,” she said softly. “I’ll go to the library for a bit.”

Tommy nodded at his sister, making his way to the sitting room, where his wife nursed the baby at her breast in one of the chairs. He closed the door behind him quietly, stripping his coat and suit jacket from his shoulders, followed by his waistcoat, cufflinks, sleeve garters and dress shirt, leaving him in just his soft cotton undershirt.

With tears in his eyes he made his way over to his wife, who sat in the chair, tears streaming down her face. “My love,” he said softly. “Forgive me?” he asked, voice cracking.

“Oh, Thomas,” she croaked, the baby pulling away from her as a tear fell on her face. Bee giggled softly, wiping the tear from her baby’s face. “Sorry,” she said to the baby, who had decided she was finished eating.

Tommy took the baby from her, putting her to his shoulder, a hand gently behind her head to support her neck. He patted her on the back until she burped, and moved her to hold her against his chest. “She looks like you,” Bee said gently, tucking her legs up under her on the chair.

“Poor girl,” he said in jest, admiring his little girl's features.

They sat in silence for a few moments before there was a knock on the door. Ada. “I’ll take the baby,” she said gently, walking over to her brother. “You two have some things to talk about, I’m sure.”

Tommy shot Bee a knowing look as Ada took the baby from him. She silently walked out of the room, closing the door behind her again.

“Bee,” he said gently. “I’m sorry,” he didn’t meet her gaze. “For everything.”

“So am I, Thomas,” she said. “When Ada called me–I–I didn’t know what I’d do if you’d die and I would’ve spent your last days being angry with you I–” she cried.

“Come here,” he beckoned her over to where he sat on the sofa. She climbed into his arms, settling against his chest, his arms around her. “I’m so sorry,” he told her, still unable to mutter the words he dreaded the most. Telling her about Tatiana.

Over the next week, life tried to resume its normalcy. Tommy pushed through his residual pain, having a greater mission in mind. Bee resumed her duties for Shelby Company Limited from her home office, Peter playing on the floor, and Katherine in the bassinet by the window, eyeing her mobile.

Tommy was busy at the office one evening when there was a knock on the door. He half expected it to be Bee. They hadn’t made love since their return home, and his need for her grew with every passing moment. The guilt made it difficult for him to act on his desire.

“Mr. Shelby,” the thick Russian accent pierced his ears. He sighed, not looking up from his paperwork. “I came to check on you. The doctors at the hospital said your wife refused you to have any visitors.”

That much was true. Bee had forbidden anyone from entering his room unless they were an employee of the hospital who had been there for more than a year. He sighed. “I am alive.”

“Are you?” she asked, walking towards his desk. “How is your wife?” she asked.

“She’s–recovering,” he ground out, reluctantly looking up at her.

“Hm,” she murmured. “I need you to be at a party tomorrow, Mr. Shelby. I need to see how dedicated you are to carrying out this deal.”

His brow furrowed. “A party?”

“And bring your brothers,” she tilted his chin up to look at her with her pointer finger before ghosting her lips over his. “I usually get what I want, Mr. Shelby.”

A chill ran down his spine.

That night when he returned home, he burst through the door of their bedroom, chest heaving. His blood rushed in his ears, his focus lasered in on his wife, sitting up in bed reading in a silk nightgown, her breasts peaked and visible through the thin fabric.

“Thomas?” she asked, closing her book. “Are you alright?” she asked, eyes wide in concern.

He furiously began to disrobe, clothes, watch, jewelry, lighter, cigarette case all falling to the floor in one pile. “I need you,” he breathed, climbing on top of her, pressing his lips to hers roughly. She let out a small squeak, hands roaming down his back, nails scratching at his skin.

He ground his hips into hers, rucking up the hem of her nightgown roughly.

He was quick and rough, rolling off her without so much as an I love you. He rolled over, his back to her, and miraculously fell asleep.

The next afternoon, Arthur, John and Tommy arrived at the Russian estate. “Boys,” Tommy started, lighting a cigarette. “Just remember, these people are crazier than us.”

And fuck if they weren’t.

After all of them being strip searched for any sign of alliance tattoos, they were admitted to the wildest party any of them had ever partaken in.

“Tom,” Arthur ground out, eyes darting every which way in the room. It was madness. People were fucking on any horizontal surface they could find. The floor, couches, tables. “Tom what is this fucking place?”

“Just have to uh–” Tommy swallowed the lump in his throat. “Play the part for the night, brother.”

“You’d do that to Bee?” Arthur asked, his own loyalty to his wife being tested and pushed.

“I’d do anything to keep her safe,” Tommy ground out, Tatiana eyeing him from the corner of the room.

“Yeah fucking that duchess ain’t such a bad way of keeping ‘er safe, hm?” John said in jest, a smirk on his face.

Misery was the word of the night. Every bit of it was miserable. The cigarettes weren’t the brand he preferred and their whiskey wasn’t Irish. Tommy got drunk off it anyway.

“This way, Tommy,” Tatiana lured him into a separate room, away from all the people. She closed the door behind them as Tommy ambled behind her. “How has your wife recovered?” she asked.

“She’s never better,” Tommy said. “Fucked ‘er last night.”

Tatiana smiled. “You should’ve brought her. The three of us could have had fun.”

Tommy smirked. “I don’t share.”

“Who said it would’ve been her we’d be sharing?” she asked, pushing him against the settee and straddling his waist. “She and I would share you,” she moaned, pressing a kiss to his lips.

His hands circled her waist as she ground into him, tongues tangling for dominance. Every ounce of self discipline in his body willed itself to the surface of his drunken state as he pushed her face from his. “Who says she shares?” he asked, breathless.

A devious smirk crossed the duchess's features. “She already has,” She leaned back down and bit his neck, traveling to his collar bones, eliciting an embarrassingly loud moan from him. “Have you told her about us?” she asked, a hand moving down to reach between the two of them, to unbutton his trousers. “How much you want this? How much you want to lean into that side of you that she has worked so hard to make good?” she asked, unzipping his trousers. “She had a lover at the hospital, no? One of the doctors who attended to you. I saw him with her one day, telling her he could take all this away with one medication. He could take her away to Paris in the snap of his fingers,” she ground herself against him again. “Did she tell you that, Tommy?”

Tommy looked at her, panic in his eyes. “She wouldn’t–”

“She didn’t. But she thought about it. And after he kissed her she said she would think about it after you returned home. She doesn’t love you as much as you think she does, Tommy.”

With rage in his mind and shards in his heart, he fucked the duchess.

What seemed like ages later, the duchess rolled off Tommy, a panting giggling mess. He tried desperately to regulate his breathing, body wrung out from the alcohol and the pleasure she repeatedly pulled from his body.

She traced invisible shapes on his chest as they laid on the floor. “What’s this?” she asked, fingers touching his newest tattoo. It was just above the inside crease of his elbow, on the tender flesh of the lower part of his bicep. It was a honeybee, a regal crown just above its head. It was small. So small it was almost indistinguishable from a distance, but up close, there was no doubt as to what it was.

Guilt washed through him. “For your wife?” she asked as he stood up, searching for his clothes that were haphazardly thrown in every corner of the room. “You had to know she wouldn’t love a man like you for long.”

Tommy paused, turning around, seeing Tatiana stand up and pull her slip back over her head. “What’d you just say?”

She shrugged. “It was not possible–she could not love a man like you for long. Someone like you needs someone like me. Someone who can see the darkness within you and wants to allow you to use it to its full potential. Not smother it.”

Tommy stalked over to her, grabbing her by the shoulders. Tatiana moved to wrestle his hands from her body. “She loves me!” he roared, images of his wife flashing through his mind. The beautiful, precious creature he had just betrayed in body, mind and soul. “Why would you fucking say that? She loves me!” he said, reduced to tears, his face falling to between her breasts.

“At some point, the love runs out, Tommy,” Tatiana said, holding him in her arms as he sobbed.

The next morning, John, Arthur and Tommy all pulled themselves from the rubble of the party and made their way to the car, hungover and guilt laden.

“What a fucking night,” John said, shaking his head, adjusting his cap on his head.

“We’ve spent our nights in worse ways before, eh?” Tommy said, climbing into the car.

Tommy brushed past Bee when he arrived home, avoiding seeing that fallen expression on her face when he told her he didn’t have time for her that day. That he had a lot to do, a lot of business to take care of.

Tommy went up to their bathroom, where he began running a bath to scrub his infidelity from his skin. His wedding ring burned into his skin. In the whole time they’d been married he’d never taken it off. Not even the night before.

As he lowered himself into the tub, he removed his ring from his finger, scrubbing his hands and the ring to rid it of any trace of Tatiana. He faintly remembered her tongue on his hands, focusing on his ring in particular the night before. He shuddered.

Bee came to him when he had finished bathing. His towel was wrapped around his waist as he mixed his shaving lather, brushing it over his jaw. He silently hoped she didn’t notice the faint bite bruises on his collarbones, and hoped the scratches had faded from his shoulders and back. He'd just taken a dose of his medicine, willing the pounding in his head to go away.

“What’s wrong?” she asked quietly as he pulled the blade of his razor over his cheek.

“Nothing you need to worry your pretty little mind over,” he mumbled, rinsing his blade in the sink.

She furrowed her brow, crossing her arms over her chest. “What does that mean?” she asked.

He sighed, pulling the razor over his jawline. “It’s just business,” he grumbled, not meeting her eyes in the mirror. He couldn’t bear to look at her. Couldn’t bear to see those dark eyes full of hurt.

She narrowed her eyes slightly. “Why’s your ring off? Are you alright?” she asks, noticing his ring on the sink.

“I just had to clean it, Darling,” he said, the subtle lie rolling so easily off his tongue.

“What are you not telling me?” she asked, seeing through his facade.

Rage boiled in his belly as he finished shaving. She watched him, eyes ablaze with her own wrath. He thought of Tatiana’s words. Of the supposed doctor who offered Bee a way out of this life. A way to escape him and the horrors he paraded into their lives. And her betrayal of entertaining the idea. The pounding in his head was eased from the medicine, his mind whirring at a million miles a minute now.

He rinsed and dried his face before stalking over to her. She seemed to have shrunk into the shadows of the bathroom as he backed her against the wall, a hand dangerously on her throat. “How about what you’re not telling me, hm?” her eyes widened in fear.

“Wh–what are you talking about?” she gasped, his grip on her throat tightening as she clawed at his hand.

With his free hand he pinned her hands at her side, twisting her slightly to look him in the eye. “The doctor at the hospital. The one who offered you a way out of this life with me,” he sneered. “Darling,” he brushed his lips over her ear. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“Thomas,” she croaked. “Please, you’re hurting me,” tears sprang to her eyes and a flash of annoyance bit at his mind. “Thomas,” she whined, his grip on her wrists growing stronger.

“What did he want with you, Bee?” he asked. “Did you want to sleep with him, hm? Leave me for him? Did he want you?”

Her eyes narrowed. “He said he’d never seen a wife as devoted as me,” she said, tears falling down her face, running onto his hand, still firmly around her throat. “He said it was admirable, but he would understand if I wanted a way out. I told him come hell or high water, I would stay with my husband. Everything else be damned. If you think,” she croaked, trying to swallow. “For one second I would turn away from you, you don’t know me at all, Thomas Shelby.”

He let go of her and she sagged against the wall, coughing as the oxygen returned to her lungs. He ran a hand through his hair. “Who told you about the doctor?” she asked, a hand on her chest, heart racing.

“The Duchess,” he said, his back to her, hands on his hips.

“Is she the one who scratched your back to hell last night then?” she asked.

His vision went blurry as a crack of thunder rolled through the countryside, shaking the foundation of the house, the electricity flickering under its impact. “Yeah, it was,” he said, turning his head to see her in his periphery.

“You–you what?” she asked, her voice so small. “What?”

He turned around to face her. “I’ve told you from the start, Bee,” he said, his voice low. “I am not a good man.”

Her lip curled in disgust. “You’re forgetting the second part of that sentence, Thomas,” she said, approaching him, poking a finger into his chest. “You always said but I’ll be a good man to you. I hope she was worth it, Thomas,” Bee says, stepping back from him to fiddle with her rings, starting to twist them off.

“Don’t fucking do that,” he snarls, pointing a finger at her.

“Why? You’ve already done it!” she shouts at him.

“Don’t fucking take those rings off, Bee!” he screams as she throttles them at him. They scatter across the tile of the bathroom–the engagement band, the wedding band and the thin green emerald band he’d gotten her for her birthday. “Fucking hell,” he says as she storms out of the bathroom and to their room, slamming the door. He walks through the halls, following her, sighing in annoyance when he finds the door locked. “Bee, please, can we talk?”

“Why would I want to talk to you, you fucking bastard?” she screams and he hears something shatter from inside their room.

“Open the door,” he demands.

She screams from behind the door, an angry, frustrated scream. He hears her walk to the door, flinging it open before stalking back to the numerous photos of them on any surface that would stand still.

“Love don’t–” he tried to protest as she took a frame down from the wall and threw it to the ground, shattering at their feet.

“Don’t call me love,” she growls at him. She goes over to the closet where she retrieves a piece of luggage. She throws it on the dresser and begins to haphazardly throw clothes into it.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he asks, wincing as glass cuts at his bare feet.

“I’m taking the children to London with me,” she says.

He slams their door, noticing the attention they’re gathering from the maids. They scatter down the hall as he stalks back over to her, pressing her against the wall. “If I have to chain you to this fucking bed, you are not leaving this house,” he growls, arms on either side of her.

“Get the chains ready then, Thomas, because you’re going to have to do everything you can to keep me here,” she spat back at him, pushing against him.

He pushed her back against the wall. “If you think for one fucking second I won’t move heaven and earth to get you to stay here you don’t know me very well,” he growled, his icy blue eyes searching her face.

“I don’t think I know who you are anymore,” she said. “Because the Thomas I married would’ve never looked at another woman much less held me against my will for anything.”

Her words stabbed him in the heart, making him visibly wince. “It is my duty to protect you,” he tells her.

“It is also your duty to remain faithful to me,” she said, pushing against his bare chest, vying for freedom.

“And yours to me,” he tells her, wedging his knee between her legs to keep her in place.

“I have never been unfaithful to you!” she screams, tears coming down her cheeks again. “It’s always been you, Thomas! Since the first day I saw you, it’s always been you! But I’m not enough anymore, hm? I’m just your wife now, the mother of your children. Used up. Boring. I’m of no use anymore, right? Faithful, dutiful wife who stands by your side despite this awful life you lead, this wretched business you’ve created, this empire built on blood and soiled money!” she screams. His eyes are empty as he searches her face. “I married you because I loved you, Thomas, but I will not stand by and be your doormat while you wine and dine other women underneath my nose!”

She pushes against him and he doesn’t resist.

“Take these to the car will you, Simmons?” Bee asks, setting Peter’s small suitcase down in the foyer.

“‘Fraid not, Ma’am,” Simmons says as Bee bends down to button Peter’s coat.

“What do you mean?” Bee asks. Sara stands a few feet back with Katherine in her arms.

“Mr. Shelby’s orders, Ma’am. I am sorry about this,” he says as a few other Blinder men rush towards her, taking her by the arms.

“Wh–what are you doing?” she asks.

“Mr. Shelby wants the children taken back upstairs,” Bee could hear Finn’s voice.

“Finn?” Bee spun around to face her youngest brother in law.

“Bee, I’m sorry. Tommy’s orders,” he says with pain in his eyes as the Blinder men drag her away from Peter, whose eyes widened in fear.

“What are they doing with Mummy?” Peter asked Sara, blue eyes wide as saucers.

“She’s just going to handle some business with Daddy, that’s all darling boy,” Sara lies to the little boy, who is clutched against her skirts.

The men take Bee through the halls of the Manor, down to the basement and past the kitchens, through the tunnels that lead to the parts of this house that are made for discretion. Parts that Tommy had never allowed her to see for fear of her image of him being irreparably damaged. The floor and walls were rough concrete, faint cracks of light coming in through slivers of windows, most of them boarded up.

There were stains on the floor. Dark gray stains she assumed had faded from crimson red. They passed a room where weapons of every shape and size hung on the walls. Coat racks littered the corridors. There was a spigot in another room with an old tub and she shuddered knowing it was for cleaning blood.

They continued to walk until they reached a small room at the end of the hall with a lock on the outside of the door.

“What are you doing?” she asked, noticing only a cot in the room. “I am the lady of this house!” she screamed in protest, for the first time fighting against their strength as the men pushed her into the room.

“Mr. Shelby’s orders, Ma’am. We are sorry about this,” they said, thrusting her into the room before locking it.

She screamed and kicked at the door, hearing their footsteps as they walked to the end of the corridor to keep watch. There was a window with bars at the top of the door, so she could hear everything that went on.

A couple hours later, she heard John and Arthur and another voice she faintly recognized. “Just get in there!” she heard Arthur gruffly yell, and a grunt from the third voice. “Boys, watch ‘em, Tommy’ll be here in a minute.”

She heard their footsteps as they walked towards her. “Unlock it,” John commanded one of the men who had walked her down here. She was curled up on the cot, hugging her legs to her chest. “Sis,” John said, swallowing the lump in his throat as they eyed her.

“What is he doing?” she asked, trembling. She had never experienced this side of Tommy, this side of his wrath, his jealousy, possessiveness, anger.

“He’s er–he’s out of his mind, Bee,” Arthur said, not meeting her eyes. “I dunno what’s gotten into him but when I look at him, he’s not behind his eyes, yannow? I think it’s the medicine, the alcohol and the cocaine. He’s still in a lotta pain,” he said, clutching his cap in his hands.

“What’s he going to do to me?” she asks.

“He’s making sure you don’t run away,” John said, shifting uncomfortably. “He’s gonna uh, gonna kill that doctor today. He’s on his way now.”

Bee let out a huff of breath in disbelief. From cherished wife to battle shield to nursemaid and prisoner, all within a six month span. “How was it for you two?” she asked, referring to the Russian party.

They both looked at their hands, Arthur repeatedly clenching and releasing his fists at his side, his cap firmly back on his head. John worried a toothpick between his teeth. “They were mad, Bee. I think something the Duchess said got to ‘im. He’s–he’s not himself. You’ll see it in his eyes.”

“Oui!” They all jumped when they heard Tommy yell from the other side of the dungeon. “What the fuck are you doing?” he screamed, his footsteps quick. Bee sat up straighter as Tommy pushed through his brothers to get to her. “Hello, Darling,” he said, kneeling in front of her, holding her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Sorry you didn’t get to go on your holiday. You don’t get a holiday from your husband, Love.”

She looked in his eyes and her heart nearly stopped when she didn’t recognize the man behind them. “You don’t get a holiday from your wife either, but you took one,” she spat back.

For the flash of a second, she could see the man she loved in his eyes. Just as quickly, he disappeared. “I have never done anything that wasn’t to protect you,” he said, his grip on her chin strengthening as his body shook with anger. “Everyone else be fucked,” he ground out. “I will always protect you, even if you don’t understand why or how,” his expression softened. “Now, Darling I am going to kill that doctor friend of yours,” he seethed. “And I hope it shows you what happens when someone gets in between us and this love we have.”

“Where is that love, Tom?” she asks and he’s halfway pulled from his out of mind state by his shortened name. She exclusively calls him Thomas, always has called him Thomas as long as they have known each other. “Where is it?” she screams.

He removes his hand from her chin, taking hold of hers and placing it over his heart. “Right here, where it’s always been. Close to me, right where I can see it.”

He pulls her close to him by the neck, slamming his lips against hers. Her hands go to his chest to fight him but his strength overpowers him. “Thomas–” she mumbles against his lips.

“I love you, Bee,” he rasps, holding her close to him still, their foreheads pressed together. “Everything I do is because of how much I love you.”

She closed her eyes as tears rolled down her cheeks, Arthur and John still standing in the doorway, backs turned as Tommy came up behind them, hands on their shoulders. “Ready, brother?” John asked.

“Yeah,” Tommy breathed as they walked out of the door, one of the Blinder guards locking it behind them.

Bee listened on in horror to her husband torturing this doctor who had threatened his life and his marriage. Strangled cries for mercy, whispered prayers of forgiveness and reasonings for his actions all spilled from the doctors lips.

“Did you want my wife?” Tommy screamed.

“Yes! For a moment I did. Every man wants to be looked at by a woman the way she looks at you,” the doctor panted. “But she refused my offer. She said she loved you deeply.”

The man screamed in agony as Tommy inflicted yet another wound to his body. “But you kissed her? You touched what is mine?”

“I–I didn’t–didn’t know you loved her,” he rasped in excuse.

“Everything is for her!” Tommy roared. “Everything I am, everything I do is for her!” Tommy wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince with that statement. The doctor who lay bleeding on the floor, or himself.

He delivered the final blow and the man gasped for his last breath.

Tommy’s chest heaved, his throat seizing up, pain coursing through his body. He was exhausted. His stomach heaved and he ran to the corner where he threw up what little he had eaten that morning.

“Get him–get him to the fields,” Tommy breathed, to Arthur and John, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Build the pyre,” he breathed, head spinning.

“What about Bee?” Arthur asked.

“Leave her.”

For three days, Bee was in the dungeon. She was brought three square meals a day and was allowed to use the facilities as needed, but no more and no less was allowed.

On the fourth day, she was awoken by Tommy’s footsteps down the hallway and keys turning in the lock. “Good morning, Darling,” he said cheerily. “Come on,” he held out a hand to her.

She shook, afraid of him, not accepting his hand, but sitting up on her cot. “Where are we going?” she asked.

“You my Darling,” he smiled. “Are going to get upstairs and get cleaned up, do your hair, your makeup and we are going to the opening of the Shelby Family Institute.”

He pulled her up off the cot by her elbow, making her wince in pain as she stood to her feet. “And I’m just supposed to act as your dutiful wife even though you’ve had me locked in this dungeon for days?”

He moves to hold her hand, leading her out of the room. “Darling it was to keep you safe.”

“From what?” she asks.

He looks her in the eyes and she still can’t see the Tommy she loves–the Tommy she took the bullet for. “From yourself,” he says.

tag list: if tumblr isn't allowing me to tag you, please see this link for reasons why the tags aren't working. (most likely #3)

@peakyltd @cctoma @lyarr24 @shelbyteller @mrsnshelby88 @skydisneylover @babygaga67 @mariarozasworld

#tom shelby #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby x ofc #tommy shelby x bee #tommy shelby x bee sutton #thomas shelby x oc #thomas shelby x ofc #thomas shelby #peaky fookin blinders #peakywomen #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #sneakyblinders #my au <3

158 notes · View notes

cutestkilla · 8 months ago

Text

An ask game for writers to procrastinate working on your WIP(s)

Thanks for tagging me @theearlgreymage @wellbelesbian @shrekgogurt @orange-peony @bookish-bogwitch @aristocratic-otter @youarenevertooold and @thewholelemon!

1. 🦈Tell us the name of your/ one of your WIP(s):

The only WIP I’m really actively working on right now is Hiding Out in the Open.

2. 🍄Describe your WIP/one of your WIP(s) in the format of “___ + ___ =___”

Psychology Podcast Hidden Brain + AU where Simon and Baz never got together but Simon still lost his magic and got spelled by Smith = Non-linear AWTWB-era Baz negging Simon with podcast links but actually secretly being sweet the whole time until they’re having real conversations and like, excavating some trauma until Simon figures himself out (or does he?) (He does, I’m not a monster.)

(I needed more terms for this equation, a few higher powers maybe.)

3. 🌍What tags or warnings will one of your WIP(s) need if you intend to share it?

Well, so far I’ve warned for anxiety/panic attacks, implied/referenced child abuse, mentions of cannibalism, mentions of eating bugs, AND mentions of animal cruelty. SOUNDS FUN RIGHT?

4. 🧭An alternative title to one of your WIP(s)?

So this fic is titled after a Feist song. The alternate title was a combination of a Ron Sexmith song that Feist did a great cover of and the name of the fictional podcast in my story:

Secret Heart, Invisible Mind

5. ⚠️Which WIP you're most likely to finish or update next?

Oh, it’ll be this one for sure! I have nothing else even approaching any kind of written state.

6. 💾What is your document of your WIP/ a WIP called? (not the stories actual title but what you’ve saved it as)

Well, it’s just titled after the fic. But before I had a title and was just dreaming things up, I had a doc titled “Hidden Brainstorms”. There’s also a doc in the folder for this titled “Enemies Closer” that’s filled with research I did for an episode I have to invent…

7. 🖍Post Any sentence(s) from your WIP.

“You stood him up? What the hell Basil? I cancelled my plans for this.”

8. ♻️A scrapped idea for your current WIP.

Okay so I am an idea hoarder, I rarely fully scrap an idea until I’m done writing a story, I just park them all in a dumping ground at the end of my doc for ongoing review. But one for sure scrapped idea I had for this back in the start was that Shep would co-host a podcast at some point in this story.

9. 🤔What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?

Welllllllll, I may have an entire (shared) Trello board for a fic that @artsyunderstudy and I have been excitedly talking about co-writing. I won't say much but it’s a Canonverse AU, featuring older strangers-to-lovers Snowbaz, and it’s a ghost story. Your basic SPOOKY SEXY SAD CATHARSIS type of deal.

10. 🤡How many WIPS are you actively working on?

Actively? One. Two if you count the Trello board which I periodically add ideas to. Three if you count the Wedding fic draft I have 20K written for and could start writing on again at ANY MOMENT.

11. 🛠Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now?

Well, I’m about to be struggling with writing the scene where Baz listens to the podcast episode I have to completely invent. I have a full first rough pass at this chapter done, except that part where I just copy pasted a bunch of research notes to come back to…

12. ❤️Not a question, just a second Kudos to send.

🙏YOU get a kudos, and YOU get a kudos, and YOU get a kudos!

Tags in case you wanna: @artsyunderstudy @hushed-chorus @ivelovedhimthroughworse @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @fatalfangirl @facewithoutheart @skeedelvee @emeryhall @mooncello @monbons @angelsfalling16 @larkral @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @run-for-chamo-miles @brilla-brilla-estrellita @best--dress @onepintobean @martsonmars @messofthejess @ileadacharmedlife @urban-sith

#tag game #writer asks #carry on #hiding out in the open #my writing #sort of #i even procrastinated procrastinating tbh

26 notes · View notes

beyondthesefourwalls · 2 years ago

Note

Mix and Match Blurb Submission (from a new fan!) Rooster/Dealer's Choice/Piano (or alternatively, aviators, because why the hell not?)/"I'm not sorry."

Welcome, welcome! I'm so glad you're here!

This one was tough, but I hope you like it! It's a little bit of fluff, a little bit of angst. I may revisit this prompt in the future, for sure.

-----

And I'd Do It All Again

You’re sitting at the piano bench, your fingers ghosting along the keys when Bradley got home that night. It’s late, and on a normal day, he would have been home nearly two hours ago. But it wasn’t a regular night, and he had been detained on base for a reprimand. You hadn’t bothered waiting around for him, too blinded by your anger.

You don’t look up when he walks in, nor do you respond when he calls your name. Instead, you press down on the ivory a little bit harder. You’re not playing any specific melody or keeping any type of tune, but you think the screeching that is coming out of the instrument is a good representation of what you’re feeling right now.

“Are you going to ignore me?”

He sighs when you do just that. He straddles the bench beside you so that he’s fully facing you. You can feel his body heat and smell the mixture of jet fuel and his cologne. He doesn’t touch you and you think you’re grateful for that.

“I’m not sorry,” he spoke gently. The piano makes an abrupt sound as you suddenly stop playing. Still, you don’t look at him. “You are a damn good pilot, and you deserve a lot more respect than what you get. I bite my tongue a lot more than I should when we’re at work, because I know you can fight your own battles and I know that’s what you want me to do. But you’re also my wife. And the moment some asshole thinks just because he thinks he’s better than you and can push you like he did? That’s not something I’ll ignore. I will never, ever apologize for defending you for that.”

You sit in the quiet for several long moments as you consider his words.

Truthfully, it had been inevitable. The hot shot new pilot who was subbing in for Omaha for the next few weeks had been more than a little demeaning since he arrived at Top Gun six days ago, talking down to not only you, but Phoenix and Halo as well. His patience was already running thin by the time the douchebag thought it was okay to push you when you showed him up in the classroom. The guy deserved it, but you hated that your husband even had to put himself in that position for you, and that he would potentially face consequences that impact his career for it.

If you were honest with yourself, you were grateful.

You finally turn your head. His whiskey colored eyes look back at you, imploring you to forgive him, but steadfast in not backing down either. You let out a sigh and shuffle closer between his spread legs on the piano bench. He takes it as permission and lets a hand settle on your thigh.

“Is it going in your official file?” you ask quietly.

“No. Mav and Hondo were in the room and saw it happen. They backed me up with Cyclone.”

You breathe a sigh of relief and lean your body fully against his. His arms are immediately around you, holding you tightly.

“You didn’t have to hit him,” you mutter into his khaki uniform shirt. He presses a kiss to your hair.

“Yes I did. And you know it. Please don’t ask me to apologize, because I won’t.”

You nod, knowing that, at the end of the day, you would have done the same thing if the roles were reversed.

“Thank you for always wanting to protect me,” you respond instead. Bradley tucks a finger under your chin, titling your head back far enough to meet his eyes again. He connects your lips softly, the first one you’d shared since he left before you that morning.

“I’ll always take care of you, baby. Always.”

count count: 637

#alli's tgm blurb party #alli's tgm mix and match blurb party #alli writes #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fic #Bradley bradshaw blurb #rooster x reader

154 notes · View notes

queen-scribbles · 4 months ago

Note

ooooh, how about 15. "You definitely needed the sleep." for Ves/Kurt

Absolutely, and thank you for your patience <3 ---

invincible

For most of Vesper's life, Kurt had seemed invincible.

She knew he wasn't invulnerable; she was intimately familiar with his scars. She'd helped patch up the wounds responsible for a few of them, even. But ever since the day he walked into the D'Orsay estate to train her and Constantin, through their settling into life on Tir Fradi, nothing stopped him and very few things slowed him down. And while Vesper had scolded him about not taking enough time to heal or minimizing injuries, he was--damn him--usually right about things not being that bad.

Perhaps that was why he proved a fantastically awful patient when he actually got sick.

Vesper only caught it because he was burning up when he came to kiss her goodbye.

"I feel fine, Green Blood," he insisted when she tried to pull him back. And he looked fine. Perhaps a trifle paler than usual, but nothing to raise alarms. It took twenty minutes, the 'for me' card, and pointing out if he had something contagious he didn't want to spread it to the rest of the Guard, did he? for Kurt to finally relent. Vesper stayed home as well, despite his protests of not wanting to get her sick. She didn't trust his definition of taking it easy any more than she did his definition of not that bad. By the end of the day the signs were a little more apparent.

She spent two days fighting to convince him to stay in bed, to rest. And then the next two panicking when he stopped fighting her about it. His fever was worse, alternating with chills, as well as other symptoms Vesper couldn't map to any illness she knew from the Continent.

It wasn't the malichor, but that didn't stop her from having nightmares about her mother and Constantin. On the rare and brief occasions she dozed off.

"You look like a ghost, carants," Síora scolded when Vesper sought her advice.

"I'm fine," Vesper waved it off, rubbing her eyes. She took a deep breath. "I'm just worried about him...." She twisted a lock of hair absently around her finger as she explained the illness' symptoms and progression, hoping, maybe, it was something native Síora would recognize.

She did. The yecht fradi name was a bit much for Vesper to get her tongue around, but it was in essence a swamp fever. It tended to linger a week from the first symptom, though some cases were up to twice that. All but the very old, very young, or very frail tended to recover without lasting ill effects.

"And Kurt's none of those..." Vesper murmured, looking toward the half-open door to their room. She could see him dozing, wondered if he was awake enough to overhear.

"Indeed, he should be fine." Síora reached over, and it wasn't until her hand covered Vesper's that she realized she'd been picked a hangnail viciously enough to draw blood. "I know it is frightening, but from all I know of this illness, he will be alright. You need not worry too much." She squeezed Vesper's hand. "Or about yourself; having the bond seems to grant an immunity to this particular sickness. You and I have no fears, though the others should keep away for now."

Vesper nodded, gesturing toward the door. "Tell him that next time he's awake and not half-delirious with fever; the only thing he's worse about than staying in bed is letting me take care of him," she said with a shaky laugh.

"Do you want me to take a turn?"

"I couldn't ask that-" Vesper started to protest.

Síora shook her head. "You are both important to me, gred a síreís, both my carants. I know ways to ease the effects, and you need rest."

"But I won't," Vesper said. "The... the other times I've tried I just... I see my mother; as she was, with the malichor, crumbling to dust. I see... Constantin." She had to swallow around the lump of panic in her throat. "Twisted and turning until naught but a-a facsimile of a diseased tree remains. I know this is different, but..." She bit her lip. "We used to think Kurt was invincible, Constantin and I, when we were young. Nothing stopped him; not illness or injury or anything. He'd sometimes leave on Guard business for a day or so and come back with a new scar or willingness to go easy on training for the next few days. But he never stopped. The entire time I'm known him, Síora, nothing's stopped him. It drives me crazy sometimes that he doesn't seem to care about himself, even if some would call that level of dedication admirable. It just makes something like this even more stark."

"I understand," Síora said. "Let me help, Vesper. Try to get some rest, even if you think it futile. And we will do what we can to break this quickly, for both your sakes."

---

Much as Síora's aid--and reassurances--loosened the fist in her chest, Vesper couldn't bring herself to fully relax. Not yet. Not while Kurt was still pale as the sheets and damp with sweat and barely aware of her or Síora's presence.

It didn't help when his fever persisted past the week mark.

She said one to two weeks, Vesper reminded herself, running her fingers down the side of Kurt's face. He was still so hot, turning toward the coolness of her touch even in his sleep. And he's not having difficulty breathing or any of the other more dire symptoms. It'll be fine.

She ran her fingers through his hair and watched him breathe for a minute, the sheen of sweat pooling slightly around the scars that marked his shoulders. Vesper brushed it away with a cool cloth. "You're so stubborn it makes sense any illness that manages to take hold would have to be as well, I suppose," she murmured, bending to kiss his forehead.

It was certainly that; holding on for two more days before relinquishing its grip. Vesper, however, missed the moment they turned that corner because two days of no sleep following a week of hardly any finally caught up with her.

She drifted off perched on the edge of the bed, leaning back against the headboard with one leg trailing on the floor and her hand loosely resting atop Kurt's. She awoke to the wonderful and familiar sensation of his thumb rubbing the heel of her hand.

Vesper jolted further awake with a mumbled "sorry", heart thundering as she shifted to better face him, relishing the simple touch.

"For what?" Kurt rasped, his voice hoarse from disuse. "If I can trust my memory at all, you definitely needed the sleep."

"You aren't wrong, I just..." she leaned in to kiss his temple, "I was worried about you."

A faint smile tugged his lips. "Which I appreciate." He gingerly levered himself into a more sitting position even as Vesper squeezed his hand to convey he shouldn't push it. "But you need t' take care of yourself, too, Ves."

"I..." How did she explain it? The connections her mind had made, no matter how tenuous, the fear that gripped her, seeing him so sick. "I couldn't sleep anyway."

Kurt studied her a moment, his thumb still rubbing the heel of her hand. "How long...?"

"Just over a week," Vesper murmured.

Something flickered in his eyes. "Sorry I scared you so bad."

She tipped her head, unwilling to lie in denial. "I've never seen you get sick before," she said softly, studying him in turn. His color was better, shine of sweat gone, but there were still traces of gauntness that made it impossible to deny what happened. He still looked tired. She forced a smile and tried to joke. "I was starting to think illnesses were afraid of you, good captain."

Kurt snorted and ran his free hand over his hair. "Prob'ly because I haven't had worse than the sniffles in over a decade. Suppose I was due..."

"Oh, is that how it works?"

He gave a half-hearted shrug. " 'M just glad you didn't catch it; if you were in here half as much as it seemed."

"Oh, no worries on that front," Vesper said. He arched a brow in silent inquiry, so she elaborated, "Síora said it's a swamp-borne fever they see crop up this time of year. Sín ol menawí are immune."

"Guess that makes you lucky as well as sweet, Excellency," Kurt murmured, almost playful, but some rust still hanging on the words. He let go of her hand to reach up and trace her mark.

"Luckier that I still have you," she demurred. The risk may not have been that severe, but it had been extremely hard to keep that in mind. "I am sorry for dragging you on that mission to Védvílvie, exposing you to something Síora and I don't-"

"You say that like it was somewhere I didn't wanna go," he cut her off fondly, his thumb tracing her chin before he cupped her cheek. "Wherever you are is always where I'll want to be, my sweet Excellency, no matter the risk."

"You aren't always the only one who pays for that risk, though," Vesper pointed out, leaning into his touch. He was fine now, no matter how scared she'd been. He was. "And before you get any bright ideas, Captain, even if I get back to work, you need to stay right here and rest at least a couple more days." Don't need you relapsing.

"Though you might say that." He didn't seem as annoyed as she expected. "For the time being, though, you need to catch up on your rest as well, don't you?"

"Nicely maneuvered," Vesper chuckled. She leaned in to kiss him, then resumed their previous position, their shoulders now pressed together. She reached for his hand to intertwine their fingers, and Kurt tugged hers closer to kiss the knuckles before letting them settle.

They drifted off together, and the weight of his head on her shoulder gave Vesper the first clear sleep she'd had in over a week. He might not be invincible, but he was still here, and that was all she cared about.

#queens fic #sleepy prompts #vesper de sardet #kurt #greedfall #kurt greedfall #ves/kurt #they STILL don't have an otp tag i really need to fix that #right after i finish interrogating the kurt muse why he always wants to be the one getting hurt or w/e #jk i know the answer to that one #but ves is getting tired of watching it happen

11 notes · View notes

arwenlalaith · 4 months ago

Text

Blinded by the Light

Ship: Emily Prentiss/Rebecca Wilson

Summary: It's not the healthiest coping mechanism in the world, but it's the only one Emily has...

Word Count: 1173

Author's Note: This fills the Anonymity square on my @cmkinkbingo2024 card. It's also dedicated to @blackbird-brewster bc they Captain this ship.

Emily didn’t usually do this...

That’s not to say she hadn’t done it in the past...but she was trying to be good. Trying to quit. But trying and succeeding were two very different things.

The thing was, as much as she may have wanted a real relationship, she wasn’t exactly at a place in life where it was all that feasible – between the hours she worked and her numerous traumas and issues, this was really just easier for everyone.

This being anonymous one night stands with strangers. Not random strangers because she’d seen more than enough one night stands gone wrong to make that mistake. No, all her one night stands were vetted for her through a third party she trusted. They all knew the stakes, knew the deal, so there was never any confusion; just sex and nothing more and, come morning, there was no conversation, no breakfast, no goodbye kiss. Just sex.

On this particular occasion, it had been far far too long since she’d gotten laid – between the pandemic and the promotion to director, she just hadn’t had the time. Fiona, being her best friend and one of her only confidants had endured quite a lot of bitchiness because of it and had therefore taken it upon herself to find Emily’s latest conquest.

...

“Don’t you want to know my name?”

Emily barked out a laugh, as her lips travelled down the other woman’s throat, sucking bruises to the surface as she went. “That isn’t part of the arrangement,” she husked, scraping her teeth across the sensitive flesh of her collarbone.

“I have to call you something...” came the retort.

“You can call me Sir,” Emily instructed, undoing buttons as her lips travelled lower and lower.

With a husky laugh, her conquest replied, “Well, Sir, you can call me Beck.”

Choosing to ignore that, Emily shucked the blouse off Beck’s shoulders, then flicked open the front clasp of her bra before latching her mouth around one of her nipples, teasing it with her teeth and tongue. One hand cupped her other breast while the other slipped past the waistband of her jeans and into her panties in search of her clit.

She spent several minutes teasing Beck, giving her just enough stimulation to keep her on the edge of cumming without ever letting her fall. She alternated between her breasts treating one, then the other, to raking teeth, laving tongue, teasing lips and all the while her gun-calloused finger teased her clit. She made sure to catalogue each and every sound she coaxed past Beck’s lips, enjoying the power trip of having someone at her complete and utter mercy.

Finally, when she could take Emily’s teasing no more, Beck said, “I know you didn’t bring me here just for this...”

With a snort of amusement, Emily pulled her lips off her breast with a wet pop, smirking up at her from her lower vantage point. “What did you have in mind?” she asked, as if she really didn’t know...

Huffing in frustration over having to work so hard to get what she wanted, Beck wound her fingers in Emily’s hair, pulling her up to her lips and stealing a kiss, then lips ghosting over hers, said, “I want you to fuck me into oblivion.”

Emily gave a pleased hum. “I like the way you think...” A beat. “But I don’t like being told what to do...” She gave Beck a once over, her eyes raking up and down her body, as if sizing her up. Finally, she said, “Bedroom. Now. I want you naked on your hands and knees.”

Beck wasted no time in obeying, assuming the requested position and waiting for Emily to do...something. Only, she found herself waiting and waiting. With a glance over her shoulder, she found that Emily was nowhere to be seen.

“Sir?”

“Patience,” Emily chided, but nonetheless she sauntered into the room to lean against the threshold, hand on her jutted-out hip. In the time she’d left Beck hanging, she’d stripped down to her bra and panties and the strap-on she’d been packing. “See something you like?” she teased.

Beck nodded. Then, remembering her voice, she was quick to add, “Yes, Sir.”

She laughed. “Good answer. However...I still think you need to learn your place.” And, with that, she smacked her ass with a resound clap of skin on skin.

Beck yelped, jerking forward, away from the sting.

“Ah-ah,” Emily tutted, “If you can take ten, I’ll let you cum...” She landed another smack, then another in quick succession. “Can you take it?”

Beck cut off her whine by sinking her teeth into her bottom lip, but nodded all the same. Emily grinned smugly, then landed another slap. By the time she reached ten, Beck was keening, her body trembling, her ass red with imprints of Emily’s hand...but she refused to tap out and Emily had to admit that she was impressed by her resolve.

“You took your punishment so well...” she cooed, gently raking her nails along the curve of her ass, up her spine, to her shoulder where she then dropped an almost tender kiss. “You’ve earned this,” she added, then lined her cock up with Beck’s cunt and guided herself inside.

She was quick to set a relentless pace, gripping Beck’s hips to keep them canted for her thrusts. All Beck could do was turn off her brain and let herself be used...and there was something so incredibly hot and filthy about that.

“That’s right, take it,” Emily growled. Hand flat on her shoulder, Emily pushed Beck down to her elbows to change the angle of her thrusts, going deeper than before, which only served to drive Beck feral with desire.

“Please, please, please,” she chanted without really knowing what she was begging for.

Entirely too cocksure, Emily taunted, “That’s right, beg me. Beg me and maybe I’ll let you cum...”

“Please, Sir,” she pleaded, “I need to cum, please...”

“Well, since you asked so nicely...” Emily said, “But you’re going to watch yourself be a little whore for me.” She grabbed a handful of Beck’s hair, jerking her head up so that she was forced to meet her gaze in the mirror that was Emily’s closet door.

When Beck came, it was with a cry of Emily’s name, her entire body going limp and falling forwards against the mattress, well and truly spent.

...

“Em?” JJ prompted, hand landing on Emily’s shoulder. “Earth to Emily?”

Emily came crashing back to reality as the stinging pain of hot coffee on skin set in, as did the realization that she’d shattered her coffee mug on the ground.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost...” JJ said when it became clear that Emily wasn’t about to speak. She grabbed Emily’s wrist and dragged her over to the sink to run cool water over the reddening skin of her scalded hand.

“Wh-who’s that?” she stammered, gaze never leaving the door leading to the bullpen.

JJ followed her gaze. “Oh, that’s Tara’s girlfriend, Rebecca... Why?”

#criminal minds #emily prentiss #fanfiction #mine #emily prentiss/rebecca wilson #rebecca wilson #cmkinkbingo2024

13 notes · View notes