#just shattering the hearts of these men smh

[rekindlevn]

First thing, let me say I played the demo as soon I heard about it and I loved the concept, and I want to thank you and the people who's working on this game and wishes everyone the best time!

Now then, I was wondering if you could say how the guys would feel if the last thing they heard from MC before breaking up was a bittersweet moment of them wishing the boys the best for them?

Thank you again!

Jules would be numb. He wouldn't understand why; He was making a life for MC, a future where they could be happy together. He can't get upset, not even angry. He would just stare at MC, try and respond and fail, and then watch MC walk away from him. Only later at home would he realize how much it hurt him. And hurt it does.

Niko's stomach would drop, world crashing down -- he'd be so taken aback that MC is actually ending things and saying something with such finality, because he never really envisioned a life in which MC wasn't the most important person in it. He'd be confused and gutted.

Markus would scramble to make things right. He'd pull out his best lines, his sweetest voice, call MC sweetheart and baby and everything else. He's by far the most hot-headed of the LIs, so he can argue no problem, but actually hearing MC calmly indicate that things are really and truly over for them? PANIC.

[kumikomochidesu]

Burning Bridges

Prompt: cozmez mom came back (like nothing happened 🙄 smh) DISCLAIMER: I don't own Paradox Live or any of its characters.

"I won't repeat myself again. Stopping yapping nonsense and get out!"

The tap water dropping from the sink was the only thing that could be heard. There was a deafening silence in the room until the sound of the train from the outside broke it.

Kanata swallowed thickly and as if an instinct, his arms quickly shielded Nayuta behind him.

"Huh? Where is all this anger coming from?" The woman smirked. "Kanata... remember that both of you are nothing without me."

Kanata scoffed. "With or without you, we've always been nothing. So what do you want me to do? Thank you? For what? For abandoning us?"

The woman sneered. "I am your mother!"

"Know your place." Kanata steps forward and rests his hand inside his pockets. "You're just a woman who happens to give birth to us."

Nayuta clenched his fists. He was unable to move an inch but the anger building up inside him is getting stronger as their conversation goes on.

"Shut up!" The woman screamed.

Kanata laughed out loud bitterly. "What? Now you're trying to act like you cared for us when we were little!"

Nayuta gripped his arm. Memories started to come in waves and as much as he wanted to forget all about it, it will still haunt him in his sleep.

He remembered the slap Kanata took from the hand of that woman that sent him flying on the other side of the room. Kanata was immediately unconscious after that and got a really bad fever when he woke up. He remembered the way she dragged both of their hairs towards a small room to lock them up just because of a small mistake in cleaning the dishes. They way she insults and shouts at them as if they were slaves. The broken bottles, the screams, the wounds and bruises...

The thunder and lightning from that night when she sent them in an orphanage. He would never forget the smile and satisfaction from that woman's face.

He would never forget.

"Didn't you wish that we weren't born!?" Kanata screamed.

"I just said that because I was drunk! I was drunk and I don't really mean what I said!" The woman screamed back.

"Cut the crap!"

"Why won't you listen to me!?"

"I said shut the fuck up!"

Kanata kicked the table beside him and the contents above it scattered around. Some fragile things shattered and the water spilled on the floor.

Nayuta didn't even flinch at all of these. Everything seems to repeat from their past.

"Get the hell out of her-"

Before Kanata could even finish what he was saying, a sickening slap was heard across the room. Kanata stumbled sideways but quickly regained his balance.

The woman chased her breath, face red, still fuming over Kanata. But when her eyes landed on Nayuta, she immediately reached out her hand. "N-Nayuta..."

Kanata gasped. "Don't you ever come close to him!"

The woman reaches him before Kanata could even stop her. She grabbed both of his hands and caressed it gently as if he was fragile.

She smiled. "Nayuta... this is Mom. Do you still recognize me?"

Her voice is unusually soft. She was never like this except for the countless men she brought home. She was being so gentle. Her hands were soft and warm.

"This is Mom, Nayuta. I'm back." She reached up and patted him on his head. "My little boy. What do you want to eat? Do you want new clothes? I'll buy it. Anything you want."

Kanata, with wide eyes, watches the scene with dread creeping up to his bones. He stared at Nayuta, who was still unmoving.

He felt like his heart was dropping. He should move. He should move and push her away from Nayuta.

But how can he?

"Nayuta? Can you hear me? Look, Mom is here now. I won't leave anymore."

How could he take away something that he longed for so bad?

When they were kids, Nayuta always wanted his mother's attention. He never loses hope that someday she would come to love them and care for them as her sons. Even after abandoning them and sending them away to an orphanage. He would always tell Kanata that he dreamed about their mother crying and running to take them back.

It was all just a dream, indeed.

Nayuta came to a realization that they were really tossed out like trash on the streets. No one will ever care for them. No one will love them. No one will cry running to take them back.

The woman leaned a bit closer to Nayuta's ear. "Say, why don't we leave this town together? Just you and me with all the prize money. We don't need that brother of yours."

Nayuta felt something snapped within him.

A chuckle escaped from his mouth. Until it turned into laughter. Nayuta clutched his belly as his laughter rang across the room.

Suddenly, the woman finds herself on the floor. Her body stumbling backwards and her back slapped the floor, making her gasped in pain.

Nayuta gripped the woman's collar tighter, still laughing. The woman gripped his hand back and glared. "W-Why you bastard!!!!"

Kanata felt his knees weaken as he let his body drop on the floor, still watching Nayuta in shock.

Nayuta's laughter soon died down and it was replaced by rapid tears streaming down his face. He watches them drop on the woman's face one by one.

"Look. Does this satisfy you now?" Nayuta asked with a quivering voice. "I'm crying because of you."

Nayuta sobbed and gripped her collar tighter. "T-there are many times... many times that I wished you'd change... i want you to care for us, pat us on the head...."

Gripping her collar tighter until his hands hurt, Nayuta looked down and dropped his head above his aching hand. "...cook us warm food... tend to us when we are sick.... h-hold our hands when we're having nightmares!"

Nayuta looked up, his eyes burning from the torrent of tears. "Why do you hate us so much that you wanted us gone!? What did we do wrong!? I WANT TO KNOW WHY IS IT SO HARD TO LOVE US!"

Releasing his grip from her collar, Nayuta dropped his body and sat on the floor. Kanata immediately ran towards him and engulfed him to an embrace as he pulled him away from the woman.

Nayuta and Kanata glared at the woman in front of them.

The woman sat up, holding her neck and stared at them in shock. She tried to stand up as she scrambled to her feet. Running towards the door, she clumsily opened it and slammed it shut.

Then, there was silence.

The familiar silence of something abandoned and left alone.

Nayuta wiped his tears and looked at Kanata. Kanata looked at him in concern.

Nayuta sniffed and smiled. "I'm hungry."

Kanata felt tears forming from his eyes but quickly wiped them. "Y-Yeah. Let's hit raimentei?  What do you say?"

Nayuta stood up and stretched his body. "Hell yeah-ah! But we have to clean this mess first!"

"Ah, fuck."

"It's your fault for kicking it. You're honestly scary earlier."

"Nayuta's the scary one. Why the hell are you laughing like a madman while crying?"

"Shut up. You cried too."

"No, I didn't!"

"Yes, you did."

"..."

"..."

"Well... It's because... Nayuta's crying too."

"..."

"..."

"Ne, Kanata..."

"Hmm?"

"Why don't we build a trap in our front door so no one can trespass?"

"Yeah. That might be a good idea."

[END]

[cocopurplepompom]

MWEHEHEHH FIC RECS >:DDD

SOME GOOD LN FICS:

living without the fear of a monochromatic existence (this one made me cry :3 plus the author smh knows all my favorite headcanons)

Fifteen Notes to You (put me in physical pain, one of those fics where the authors like "sorry im not good at english" and then they make a literary masterpiece that shatters the hearts of many

Flower Crowns and Paper Bags (this is just a cute one shot. i love these kids so muchhhhh)

LU/LOZ:

Colour Theory (just a really good spin on tfh!!)

Dawn of the Fourth (an LU fic, my favorite fanfic of all time!! :D)

Stitch (LU series, with like all of my favorite tropes at once lol)

ENJOY!!!! :DDDDD (these are AWESOME.)

got any for me? 👀✨

Eeeeeee thank you for these!!!

For LN fics:

They're Just Children - Idk if ur into FnaF but this is a crossover between Security Breach and Little Nightmares, it's ongoing and very angsty atm but so good!!!

Side Effects of Friendship - This is a series of fics. In fact it's one of the first LN fanfictions I ever read, and it follows Mono and Six escaping the pale city together.

For LoZ/LU fics:

Haunted by Restless Spirits - This is a botw/aoc crossover in which botw Link and Zelda go back in time as well. I think the dynamics are really well written in this one.

Fanboy - Time looking up to Four as the hero of Men who came before him. It's really sweet!

Language Barriers - This fic basically answers the question what if language evolved between eras and all the links spoke different dialects. I love linguistics so I found it really interesting, plus it's so well written!!!

edit: I put the links in on desktop to tidy it up

[darkbluekies]

god your writing is just so good like usually i can’t read things about characters who’s personalities and dynamics i don’t like, but the way you incorporate horror and the feelings of hopelessness (esp in dr kry stories) just gets me HOOKED AND READING even if i’m like. (affectionately) horrified by the characters behavior.

that being said, pls hand over dr kry and hedwig so i can 1.) turn the tables and german suplex little doctor man into a concrete sidewalk so i can break all his bones and have him detained in a hospital bed!! :3 like the disrespect he puts US through trying to gaslight us into thinking WE’RE unwell…smh smh i’m not trying to be infantilized by no MAN. I’LL SHATTER HIS RIBCAGE!! 💥💥💥💥 and 2.) i want hedwig to watch all of it go down she can cheer me on in a cute cheerleader outfit and then she can call in her men to finish the job and lock kry up in some rando building idk and THEN we can go over to her house and have a little girly sleepover with snacks and cute stuffed animals and we can h*ld h*nds all night 💖💖💖and and and GOD HEDWIG I WANT U SO BAD. PLEASE.

moral of the story is: ur writing is so good and hedwig is criminally underrated. I SAW YALL IN THAT LAST POLL RANKING HEDWIG LAST. 🫵🫵🫵 *cries* justice for my girl 😭😭💔💔

I think my heart grew a few sizes while reading this🫣❤️

Thsnk you so much for saying this, I personally love horror with all my heart and I always think it adds such a nice tingle to the yandere aspect.

Bro I can't hand them over, I'm 153 cm how do you expect me to take them both on? Kry is like 180 something and Hedwig 165 (I think)??? Do you want me to die?? However, I do think you should have the cutest most girlish sleepover imaginable with hedwig because yes that's sounds amazing and I want to do it too

I don't know why hedwig always places last in the polls :( maybe because she's softer than the others? I don't know :// my plan is to write a little more scary hedwig in the future, when she becomes angry and I hope that will change some views of her😌

[mueritos]

Gotta say the trans gay “I wanted to do physics but the educational system is geared toward those of privilege and wealth who can afford tutors and have time to study so I’m in humanities now which is also a significant passion of mine and now I’m flourishing without the ‘white cishet boys club’ looming over me”

OH GOOD GOD YOU REALLY SAID IT ALL!!! 

[bonny-kookoo]

Brave Girl (J.JK x Reader) ☁️💜🎀🔞

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader (ft. Med student!Namjoon)

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Good Girl!AU

Warnings: Heavy angst, traffic accident, injury, hospital, Jungkook is panicking, MC gets hurt, Koo is just lost and hates hospitals :(, Namjoon being the hero he was born to be, fluffy and dramatic smut, overstimulation, mild DDLG themes, protected sex because we wrap it up in this household smh

Summary: you were supposed to be home at 6 to help Jungkook devour the feast that is the freshly baked pizza he’d made to welcome you back from your trip to your parents, yet when the clock strikes 9 you’re still not home. Just when Jungkook is about to call you since you didn’t react to his texts, he receives a call from you; and he swore his heart stopped beating. Loosing you had never been a thought in his head until now, but he might just gotten closer to this reality than he ever imagined being. And he hated it.

Good Girl || Sweet Girl || Smart Girl || Brave Girl || Pretty Girl

"Alright, do we have everything now?" Jungkook asked, helping you place your pastel pink travel bag into his car, careful not to scratch all of the sparkling and colorful stickers on it. They looked a bit worn already, but you always felt a bit upset if there was another scratch to a prized posession such as your sticker-collection- yet when Jungkook told you not to put any more on your bag, you began to pout as well. You asked with a simple nod, already excited to meet your parents again after a long time apart. Jungkook offered to drive you to the bus station, not being able to bring you there entirely because he, quote unquote, 'didn't feel ready yet'. Many would've felt offended by that, but you knew not to read too much into it when it came to him- there were a lot of things for him that were still new, and his love was strong enough for you not to question it. You were both growing comfortable at your own pace, and that was enough for now.

Your parents had understood as well, even though your father had been a little more skeptic than the rest of your family; but he'd always been a little overprotective, so it didn't surprise you at all. While you were driving home, knees against the seat in front of you, you rummaged through your small backpack, taking out a small pack of gummi bears Jungkook had packed inside. He'd been so careful with everything, insisting on buying you this specific backpack because 'it's so soft, you can use it as a pillow inside the bus so you sleep better'. Maybe you were slowly making him soft as well? You were glad however that he had packed your headache medication in as well, long rides sadly having this effect on you sometimes.

Ever since you were a kid, you've always felt safe within public transport. You've been taking the bus and train to school for years, never truly thinking about the danger it could hold. Even now, with the pouring rain outside, you felt calm. Something that would change soon.

For now however, you just noticed how the jacket of the young man next to you slowly slipped off of his lap. He was asleep, you at least thought so, but you couldn't help but reach for the jacket before it could truly fall down onto the slightly muddy floor, your own shoes slightly at fault since it was quite muddy outside before you came in and sat down. "Ah, thanks-" He suddenly said, making your eyes widen at noticing how he only head headphones in. Maybe he hadn't been asleep after all?

"No problem" You said, putting your feet underneath your butt after having taken off your shoes. Your boyfriends' advice had proven to be quite nice after all, putting on comfortable loungewear such as your soft sweatpants and a large white shirt of Jungkooks collection (he had packed it in actually) were slowly proving to be way better than your typical attire. The guy next to you- Namjoon you'd found out on your first ride, having been seated next to him as well- looked quite casual as well. Instead of his more formal clothing he'd worn the first time you had talked to him he had switched to simply jeans and a loose sweater, something that made him seem a lot younger. "Listening to a podcast again?" You casually asked him, and he smiled, taking out one of his headphones.

"No, just music this time. That whole trip kind of drained me if I'm being honest." He explained, crossing his legs before conversing further. "What about you? Had fun with your family?" He said, genuinely interested it seemed. It was rare to find someone as honest as him. At first, you had been a bit careful, knowing that men usually had intentions that differed from what they were actually saying, but Namjoon had been just as friendly as before when you had told him about Jungkook. He just said that he seemed like a nice guy, nothing more to it, and still talked to you just the same.

You nodded your head at his question. "I was kind of sad when I had to leave again, but I also can't wait to come back home!" Excitedly you wiggled around a little, before you found a good position in your seat that didn't make your legs sleep in from being bend so much Namjoon smiled at you.

"I bet. I can't wait to fall into my own bed again as well." He said, before the bus swayed a bit, making you hold onto your belongings to keep them from falling down. Namjoon leaned into the middle a bit, to look at the front window and the driver. "Jesus, he's been driving like this for a few minutes now." He mumbled, making you a bit nervous. He was a very observant person from what you'd gathered until now, your first interaction had been him asking you about your headache even though you were sure it hadn't been too noticable. He was a med student however, top of his class he'd told you, so he probably had a third eye for things like that. "Hopefully they'll change drivers soon. He seems tired." He said, and gave you a reassuring smile. "It's gonna be fine-" He said, before the bus swayed again, this time however, pushing you against the front seat from the force. Seconds later the direction changed drastically, windows shattered, and the only thing you felt when you were able to gather your thoughts again was how cold it was.

The wet ground was slowly seeping into your clothes, the weird feeling of muddy grass underneath your hands as you pulled yourself into a sitting position foreign. One of the first things you were noticing was the incredibly high pitched ringing in your ears, sounds muffled as if someone was holding their hands over them. Things were blurry, lights passing by, and something was moving in front of you. For some reason however, you were only having one thought. Jungkook. He'd know what to do. But where was your phone?

You slowly got up, yelping in pain when your knee gave out and made you fall back down again, scratching the palms of your hands open on some random branches and.. glass? Suddenly you remembered the bus, Namjoon talking to you, and then- it was as if someone skipped a video you haven't seen before, an entire fragment missing completely. You crawled out of the bushes and onto the pavement when you spotted your wet and dirty backpack, your things and several unknown items of other passengers scattered everywhere on the street. And there, just a small distance from you was you phone- the hello kitty charm ripped off and probably lost forever. The screen was an absolute mess, yet it was still working when you reached it, unlocking it with your passcode because your fingerprint scanner was a definite goner for sure. Your headache was killing you at this point, your nose running from the cold, and your mouth had a metallic and bitter taste. It started to ring. One time. Two times. A voice.

"Creepy, I was just about to text you princess. Are you close to the station yet?" He asked, you could hear the TV faintly in the background, then a little movement, his earring clattering against his plastic case he had around his phone, something that still didn't help him with his curse of breaking his screen in record time. "Hey, you there?" He said chuckling, when you eventually answered him. "Hm?" He said, suddenly furrowing his brows invisibly for you on the other side of town, ceasing his movements and instead getting up to grab the remote, silencing the TV. He could hear faint talking on your side, yet it didn't seem like casual chatter, but frantic.. almost as if someone was panicking in the background.

"I said uhm-" You started, swallowing the weird taste before looking around, noticing no movement, but someone began to shout a name, another one softly wheeping, noises increasing with every passing minute. You could faintly spot headlights behind the bus, someone driving past had noticed, and people suddenly stood at the sides. But your vision hadn't cleared yet, so maybe you just couldn't see. "I think- I think we had an accident 'Koo, I-" You said, suddenly chocking a little on the fluid in your throat, coughing to get things under control and your voice back. The mention of an accident, the way you spoke, and the cliche noise of you coughing made him get up immediately, frantically running to his jacket, reaching for his car keys. You always told him how funny it was to you how he always told everyone how organized he was, yet always loosing his car keys. Right now he wished you would make fun of him, he wished you would just say sike and reveal your joke, yet deep down he knew you would never joke about something like this.

“It’s okay baby, you’re gonna be okay, where are you?” He stresses, trying yet failing to keep his own demeanor calm over the phone. You answer him that you don’t know, and he just feels the confusion radiating off of you. Something was terribly wrong, he could feel it deep inside his veins by the way you seemed to be unable to catch an actual thought. “Are you hurt anywhere?” He asks, even though he fears the answer you might give him.

“I..don’t know? My head hurts.. I- Jungkook I think I’m bleeding, what do I do?” You stress, and feel your own panic rising in your throat, making your eyes water and nose burn. You wished you could just tell Jungkook where the hell you were but you didn’t know, streets completely strange to your eyes, shifting around like a fever dream, as if you’d never seen them before. “Kookie, ‘m scared.. I wanna sleep-“ you began to mumble, less and less conscious, your head beginning to rest on the cold ground, the bus now beginning to shift out of focus. There we’re a few people walking around and you wanted to wave, to tell them you’re here, but one of them who you recognized faintly as the guy who’d been sitting next to you during the ride noticed you anyways.

Jungkook started to panic on the other end of the line, desperately trying to pin your phones location. “No no no baby, you’re so brave, you’re such a brave girl, don’t sleep in on me right now okay?” He pleaded, growing more and more anxious the less you answered him. “Baby? Don’t stop talking to me now please.!” He said, trying to get an answer out of you. But the only thing he could hear was the soft white noise, no trace of your voice whatsoever. “Baby? Please-“ he said, eyes watering out of frustration as he noticed the sudden commotion outside, cars suddenly driving out of his nearest police station, sirens loud and clear. “Please, y/n, talk, say anything!” He begged, voice choked with unshed tears, throat closing up.

“Hello?” A stranger answered.

“Who are you? What happened to y/n? Is she okay? I-“ he tried to rush his questions as if that’d get him the answers faster.

“She’s- uh- I don’t know, the bus just suddenly lost control and she- I think she’s still breathing but uhm- look, we’re at, uh-“ Jungkook wasn’t listening after he’d gotten the information he so desperately craved. He knew where you were. He’d get to you. He needed to get to you. And for the first time ever, Jungkook actually started to pray.

He finally found his car keys, ripping the door open to close it with a loud bang behind him, TV running but long forgotten. His stubborn car door didn't open instantly, making him almost growl in anger at it, eyes watering again when he remembered how you always told him to just get it fixed instead of buying a new one. You always had this idea of things having a soul anyways, so you always told him he needed to be nice to his car, or it would be upset. Right now he was not fit to drive. He did it anyways.

He groaned at every red light, hating how he couldn't just run them over because your absolutely stupid voice kept ringing in his ear to drive safely, he hated it right now, so so much, he could've screamed at nothing right now at how enraged he was. Why didn't he just fucking jump over his own shadow and drive you to your parents? None of this would be a thing if he would just finally man up instead of cowering all the time, simply believing that his time with you was endless. He knew it wasn't. He knew one day you two would pass. But that was supposed to be when you both were old and wrinkly, when you both had kids and grandkids, when both of you had enough stupid and disgustingly sweet stories to be able to make them gag at how he would still call you his most beautiful girl. This wasn't happening. He was going to make sure of it.

He reached the destination a little too far away, cars already stopping traffic, people on the side, watching, and he felt agitated again. He decided to simply turn his steering wheel, half-hazardly parking his car almost in the bushes next to the road, before opening the door with his key and phone in hand, closing his car door way too harsh as he could hear something crack, but his legs were already making him run at the fastest pace he had ever before. His hair and clothes, the black zip hoodie he had thrown over his grey shirt were growing damp from the mild rain coming down, yet he didn't care. He had his hood up, before it slipped down, his hands pushing past people, the need to insult them for staring and taking pictures instead of actually helping strong inside his veins, yet he simply portrayed his distaste at his not so gentle shoving to get past them.

Somehow he had apparently arrived before police or the ambulance had, because there was no one there yet. "Y/N!" He yelled, his voice frantic and almost unrecognizable, even to his own ears. He could spot people laying around, some helping others, and some simply waiting for help as he searched for your figure among them. He saw some of your stuff, the travel bag you had, now wet and scratched, your backpack, thrown on the street and some small items he could recognize as yours such as the formerly white bunny jacket he had bought you before you went on this trip. "Y/N!" He yelled again, and got someones attention a bit off the side near the woodside next to the road. "Oh no-" He whispered under his breath when he could see the guy leaning a bit over you, your head on the ground below, soft socks a darker shade than usual from the moisture they had picked up by now. You were laying on your side, the young man pushing a flannel shirt against your hip. He ran straight towards you, reaching out to grab you, just to have the stranger grab his hands instead, pushing at his chest. "What the fuck-?!" He exclaimed, ready to burst.

"We don't know how serious her injuries are at the moment. If you move her you could make the damage worse." He said, serious. "It's better to leave her like this, and wait for the ambulance." He said, unable to make the younger ones angry and frustrated face calm down, but he listened anyways, knowing deep down that he was right. "Kim Namjoon by the way, Medical student- trust me, I know what I'm doing okay?" He refrained from telling the younger one that you would be okay, having sworn to himself when he started as a med student to never give out false hope. Jungkook nodded, tears finally falling as he swallowed hard, simply running his hand over your hair, trying to give you reassurance- or maybe he tried to reassure himself that you were still there. Maybe even both.

When the ambulance arrived, you slowly gained a little more consciousness again, hand grabbing at nothing. "..'Koo?" You said, unsure if he was really there or if the smell of his bodywash on the shirt you were making was playing tricks on you. He gasped, leaning down, his other hand running over your bare arm softly as to warm you up.

"I'm here, I'm here baby, you're okay." He said, this time saying these words to reassure himself purely. Namjoon noticed you shivering after Jungkook did, and he instantly took off his jacket, even though it was thin, simply to cover you up. Namjoon yelled for the ambulance to notice them, and both of the guys breathed a sigh of relief when they were running over towards you three.

However, now Jungkook had to face another fear, apart from still possibly loosing you. He hated hospitals. Not in the quirky kind of 'ugh I hate the smell of disinfectant' kind of way, the kind of 'I rather cast my broken wrist with duct tape and wooden icecream sticks just to not have to go near this place' kind of way. When he was asked if he would like to ride with you his terrified eyes looked at Namjoon, the answer he gave an unsure, yet clear nod. He had to be strong right now. You needed him right now, more than ever.

Inside the ambulance, he didn't let go of your hand. You had a hard time answering questions, so Jungkook had to step in now. He kept his eyes on your face, trying to blend out the equipment around you two to not get riled up. Someone had to be there a hundred percent. The nurse noticed pretty quickly, laying a hand on his shoulder to hopefully calm him down. "She's stable right now, okay? We'll wheel her in as soon as we reach the hospital, someone will ask you for her information since we couldn't find her ID or anything on the scene, alright?" He asked, and he nodded, clearing his throat before he resumed watching you breathe. He would've never guessed how happy he would feel just to see such a small thing from you.

A hot cup nudged his hands that were over his head, and he slowly looked up, surprised to see Taehyung of all people in front of him, his newly red hair in complete dissarray as well as his clothes. He looked like Jungkook felt if he was being honest. "Tae?" He asked, voice rough while taking the cup from his friend. His friend simply shrugged, before He sat down next to him, eyes red. "What-" He started, but Taehyung leaned back, speaking quitely, oddly calm, considering his usually loud personality.

"I-" He started, before he seemed to think a bit about how to phrase his next words. "Someone I know was on the same bus." He said. "I heard you talk to the nurse at the counter." He explained when Jungkooks brows furrowed in confusion. "They've managed to stabalize her, but she'll need surgery tonight." He said, and Jungkook wanted to ask who the person was- yet he refrained from doing so. Him and Taehyung were close, sure, but exactly that was what made him stay quiet about it. He knew when it was okay to ask, and when to just shut up. And right now, he simply nodded at him.

"So we're both gonna have a sleepover here?" He asked grimly, pathetically trying to lift the mood. Taehyung just nodded.

When you woke up, it wasn't like it was usually displayed in movies or cheesy novels. It wasn't a slow, gentle breeze from your window, or the way your boyfriend spoke next to you. No, it was actually absolutely silent, except the constant beeping next to you. You actually woke up way faster than you hoped for, your eyes opening like you've just got ripped out of a dream where you fall downstairs or something alike. You heard Jungkook groan sleepily, before he eventually moved his head a little, turning so you could see how exhausted he looked. His eyelashes looked damp, tiny hairs bound together into little groups as he sniffled, head on your hand, open palm holding his cheek as if he needed to feel you even in his dreams. The sight calmed you down.

The change of heartbeat and pulse made the machine next to you switch sounds, and soon you heard the door open, a friendly nurse walking in, smile on her face as her gaze found Jungkook still in the same position as hours before, unbeknownst to you. "How are you feeling, miss?" She softly said, quiet as to not wake the young man who had been switching between crying, watching, or sleeping next to you for the past days. You swallowed, mouth dry, and nodded towards the empty coffee cups next to you on the small bedside table. "I'll get you some water okay? Welcome back miss. I'll just check your vitals for a second." She said, and you nodded at that. Checking the machines and you, she walked out, leaving the door open so you could hear a bit of what was going on in the hallways. Footsteps and sometimes the tune of someones phone going off, random words you were too tired still to understand, and an elevator. Jungkook stirred next to you, opening his eyes after taking a deep breath, yawning before his eyes found yours.

It took him amusingly a couple of seconds before he shot up, immediately coughing from having inhaled his own saliva. You laughed at that, flinching a bit when it made your body ache, before taking him in. He looked horrible, hair a mess, eyes red and skin a bit pale, yet he smiled brighter than he did back when you bought him the new destiny 2 game for his playstation as a surprise. His eyes glistened, suddenly getting a sparkle to them before his lip started to quiver. He dropped his head on your shoulder, silently crying, but this time, he cried from relief. From happiness. From just how much he loved the world right now for giving him more time with you, for giving him a chance to be the embarrassing father and naggy grandpa he always wanted to be someday. Your arm bend and your hand ran through his hair, not minding the long unkempt locks one bit.

The nurse came back in, smiling brightly with a tall doctor in tow, who had a friendly face as well. "Good to have you back miss. How are we feeling?" He said, trying not to grin at Jungkook, who had yelled at the man several times when he'd tried to tell him to go home and rest. You were oblivious to this obviously. Jungkook raised his head a little, using his flannel sleeve to dry his tears, clearing his throat to at least try to look like he got his shit together.

"Uhm, I feel like I had to take my fitnessgram pacer test again, plus a bit more muscle pain in my hip?" You said, making the man chuckle.

"That's completely understandable considering you flew quite a distance miss. We were quite surprised that you were fine breathing on your own, considering everything. You're quite lucky; but we're gonna keep you under surveillance until friday. Your bodyguard can take you home after 12 whenever he likes." He said with a smirk in Jungkook's direction, the one spoken of growing a bit red on the tips of his ears. The doctor leaves after asking you general questions such as, if you knew the current year, your address, and your personal information such as your birthday.

The nurse left the cup of water and a straw on the small table. "I'll let you both catch up. Please make sure she drinks the whole cup, but only a couple of sips at a time alright?" She said to your boyfriend, who nodded, having calmed down a little by now. He moved, his hand a bit shaky as he ripped the top of the papercover of the straw off, before taking the plastic drinking help out of its minimalistic packaging. He put it inside the cup after bending it a bit, before he moved to you, helping you with outmost care to sit up a little. You winced a bit when you tried to move too fast, and Jungkooks face got a little more serious at this. You began to pout at him.

"What?" He said, voice still a bit rough from the lack of using- and the simultaneous shouting everytime he'd opened his mouth these days. He sighed. "Come on, you heard the nurse- you gotta drink." He said, but you stubbornly moved your head to the side, sideeying him. His brow raised in a questioning matter, before he noticed your posture. You had your arms in front of you in a hugging manner, and he suddenly realized how his behaviour must've looked for you. "I'm sorry princess I just.." He said, putting the cup down and running a hand through his hair. "I just.. I was so terrified when I saw you there-" He said, having to swallow hard again so he didn't end up crying again. God, what was it with him again? "Why didn't you call an ambulance? Why did you call me instead?" He asked, a bit of whine to it. You shrugged, deflating a bit in your position leaned up against the pillows.

"You were.. dunno, the first one I thought of." You explained. In Hindsight it had been a bit dumb, why did you call him as if he could magically appear in that second to make everything better, but somehow your brain made that story into a real possibility. "You always make everything better, and you know.. you always know what to do so.." You said, and Jungkook breathed out in a sight.

He leaned closer to you, tattooed hand brushing away some of your hair to place a kiss to your forehead. "Oh baby.." He simply said, resting his against your head for a second, before his thumb brushed over your cheek. "I'm driving you anywhere you need to be from now on." He said, and you nodded with a smile. "Alright. Now come on, drink something." he spoke before picking up the cup, helping you with the straw, taking it away from you after a couple of sips, making you whine. "I know doll, but we don't wanna overdo it alright?" He said. You looked at him with a smile, and he happily returned it.

"Jungkook I can do that-" You said, before he silenced you with a look.

"I'm sorry, as cute as you look walking around like a newborn babydeer, I really like to keep you from falling down again, thank you very much." He said, accusingly pointing to the small bandage on your knee from having stumbled on your way into the kitchen yesterday. Your visible wounds were healing well, but you still had a bit of nerve damage from your nasty fall, which made your legs feel like they're constantly in a state between sleeping in and waking up, minus the pins and needles. They moved, yeah, you could feel them, yes, but it felt like they were wrapped in plastic and someone messed with the controls. Jungkook found it a bit adorable, but he rather not have you give him a shock again from almost hitting the kitchen tiles. Slowly, he came back with a glass of water, making you smile and thank him. He'd currently taken time off from work, having explained to his boss that he had to nurse you for a bit until you could be home by yourself. His boss had been pretty understanding, agreeing to him taking his vacation earlier and with short notice.

One thing you noticed however, was how careful Jungkook was around you. Now, that itself wasn't a bad thing, since right now you're a bit more fragile then usually so, but he was careful in a different way. Ever since you both left the hospital on friday, he stopped giving you goodnight kisses. He rarely hugged you, only ever if you initiated it, and he refused to be close to you during the night, making up excuses like 'I'm scared I'll roll you over during the night babygirl.' That was utter bullshit, because he'd never been worried about that in the past. He's a heavy sleeper and barely moves when he sleeps, so why would it be an issue now?

That was when the goddamn thoughts came back to you. Maybe he realized how close he'd gotten to you and didn't want that anymore? Maybe he wanted to go back to his old way of living, without any strings attached to anyone?

That night, you decided to speak up. Jungkook and you were sitting on the bed, you criss crossed, and him with his back towards you, feet on the carpeted floor. "You can, uhm.. you know, drive me back to the hospital tomorrow so I can get checked back in." You quietly said. He instantly turned around, his phone no longer worth his attention as his brows furrowed.

"Why? Are you okay? Did the stitches open up again?" He said, a bit of panic making his words hurry on their way out of his mouth. You shook your head.

"No, but I don't wanna, you know. You don't like me saying I'm a burden so I won't say it, but yeah. I get it, you know? Its okay, really-" You said, head lowering until you stared your lap. You heard and felt him move, his hand softly on your back.

"What're you saying princess? Why the fuck would you think I don't want you anymore?" He knew your innuendos by now, and he didn't like that you implied a breakup in your sentence one bit. "Baby I'm gonna take care of you now and everyday you need me to, you know that." He said, confused.

You looked at his throat, unable to shift your gaze any higher up, in fear of what his eyes would tell you. "But, you know.. if we're good, why.. why 'm I not getting any kisses anymore? No hugs? No nothing? " You said, starting to pick at your fingers. Maybe you were just making it worse for him. Maybe he'd just tried to figure out how to tell you in a good way, and you just made it so much harder for him to do so. However, the hand on your back left, just so he could take your body into his arms. "I'ts okay, you know-" You started again, and he hushed you.

"None of that, please don't talk like that, please don't." He said, almost breathless as if he was scared to say the words out loud. "Getting told I could loose you for good was terrifying enough already, thank you very much." He said, a dry laugh escaping him, humor nowhere to be seen in it. Typically he would relish in the feeling of his broader and stronger frame compared to you, he would smile at the mere size difference of your hands or the way he could easily pick you up and carry you anywhere he wanted to. But right now it only reminded him how fragile you were, how careful he had to be not to hurt you. He felt helpless, and it was a feeling he decided he'd hate until he died. "I just- I'm scared I'll hurt you." He said, quietly, hoping that maybe you won't hear. But you did.

Holding his face in your hands you were reminded again just how inexperienced he was in this entire thing as well. You always thought he could lead the way without problems, that he knew everything and could teach you what you wanted to know. Yet maybe you both could learn from one another, more so than just you from him. "You won't." You said, and you stubbornly kissed him as he tried to protest, pecking his lips with a newfound courage you didn't knew you had until then. He tried again, just to get another kiss. This went on for a bit, until he deepened the gesture a bit, hand finding its way into your hair, before he pulled away.

"Don't rile me up baby." He groaned, running a hand through his hair. He hated how much you could get under his skin right now, covering his lower half under the blanket you both shared almost shamefully. You kissed him again, making him laugh, finally this time for real. "Stop, I'm serious. You're still healing, or did you forget?" He said, and you whined.

"But you can be gentle! My stitches are coming out on Monday anyways, I'll be fine!" You said, and he had to chuckle at you, his mind being torn from side to side. He didn't know if he could, but the way you trusted him made him wan't to at least try. With a little hesitance he dived in again, making you smile against his lips.

He made you lie down again, slowly, crawling over your form, unhurried, as if you both got all the time of the world. And you had, he knew you had. When you whined, he simply grinned at you. "No no Baby, let's just be close, okay?" He said, voice low and soft, making you melt underneath him. For the first time ever, as cheesy as it sounden, it wasn't about reaching your highs anymore for him. He was a believer that good sex had to finish with as much pleasure as possible for him, yet that had entirely began to shift when he'd met you. Suddenly things weren't about him anymore, suddenly he started to become less and less self-centered; but this time nothing mattered at all. It wasn't about reaching your goal and claiming your prize in form of an orgasm, it wasn't about pure pleasure and satisfaction. No, this time it was about feeling as close to you as he could, he needed to feel every inch of you simply to reassure himself that you were still here, real, and with him.

He reached for the first drawer of the bedside table, your kisses on his chest and biceps making his heart race. Slipping the condom on with your help, not because he needed it but because you wanted to, he made himself at home inside you, mind slowing down with every move he made, his thoughts and body being reminded that you were okay, you were fine, you were still here with him, you didn't leave. Maybe he should be scared of how dependend he'd become on you, how you had sneaked your way past all his walls and made yourself at home inside his soul. Maybe he should be afraid or worried how he couldn't escape you anymore, how he couldn't take a fast exit out of the situation you both had made. But right now, none of that mattered.

Your mind was fuzzy, no thought able to be caught properly, and you let yourself slip even further, giving your entire being into his posession. This was just about being close, and you felt protected and safe with him, his pace slow and unhurried, gentle, and his hands reaching for yours, intertwining your fingers in a soft gesture. It showed just how much he was actually hurting, how much the entire situation had affected him; this was so unlike him that it made you feel proud of yourself to be able to witness it at all. He was laying himself bare in every way for you, and you didn't dare threw salt on his exposed flesh.

He didn't notice if he or you had come at all, continuing to move, yet never picking up his pace. When he watched your blissful face underneath him, his eyes stung again, tears knocking at the back of them, and he gently placed his head on your shoulder, kissing every part of your skin he could reach there, gasping and breathing hard. Never in his wildest dreams he would've thought that this would be the situation he would found pleasure in, yet it happened in that moment, and god, he felt like he couldn't stop. He felt like he could torture himself like this forever if it meant he could show you how utterly terrified he had been of loosing you, how terrified he still was deep down, and how terrified he would always be. He needed you like oxygen at this point, and it scared him shitless, yet even that was something he accepted with open arms and a smile in exchange for your affection. He was whipped for you, deep down bound to you by iron shackles, but he would never ask for a change whatsoever.

The night ended with both of you exhausted yet happy, tangled together under wrinkled sheets and a blanket thrown over your forms.

"I absolutely love you." You said, eyes wide and sparkling at the amount of junkfood your boyfriend carried inside the living room, coat still a bit wet from the rain outside. He brought a wave of cool and fresh air with him, making you shiver for a bit before your hand dived into the first paper bag, the crinkling sound ever so present. He laughed, throwing his coat over the side of the couch before he sat down next to you.

"You only love me for food, how tragic." He said, playfully sighing at it, watching you pout at him. "sorry baby, 'm joking." ruffling your hair he snatched a fry from the small bag you had in your hands, making you whine, but laugh at the same time.

Straightening your back you tried to look taller than him, making him chuckle. "I see this as a reward for not crying today!" You said proudly, and he smiled, nodding. You had gotten your final stitches removed, and even though it was still terrifying for both of you, Jungkook had finally faced his fear and came with you to your appointment, although he had still been heavily uncomfortable, rushing you both out as fast as possible. He was proud however, because even though you had every reason to, you didn't cry- simply squeezing his hand a bit, but nothing too much.

"I know, I know." He said, rummaging through the second large brown bag to fish himself a burger. "That's because you're the bravest girl ever-" He said, yelping when you snatched the food from him. "And also the most daring it seems, you gotta share baby!" He said playfully accusing, reaching for it just for you to hold it further away. "Good girls share, come on, I deserve a reward too you brat!" His hands reached for the item of his desire, making him raise his brows at you. Kissing your slightly greasy and salty lips, he laughed when you made a whiny sound at him. "Come on, this shit was expensive, let's eat."

"I've never seen you cry so much."

"Shut up."

"It was cute though-"

"Oh I'm about to be really fucking cute, get over here young lady!"

Taglist: @sweetenedcooky @ggukkieland @btsismybias22 @darkgvk @daddypkj @flowerprincess24 @crazylittlemay @zeharilisharaban

[orionwhispers]

Swan Song// Thomas Shelby 🍸

(A.N )- holy shit. holy shit. you guys... its finally finished. it took months but its finally done!!here is the long awaited and highly requested lolita wedding. im so happy you guys finally get to read it! i feel like my baby has all grown up lol. there might be errors and stuff bc its 16k words and im exhausted but hopefully you enjoy it. thanks for being so wonderful and patient. ily) also sorry for all the pics in the moodboard being white i try and be inclusive but smh pinterest sucks sometimes, anyone is welcome here. we are all hoes for tommy)

Trigger Warnings; so much fucking fluff, implied smut, some angst and mention of past injury.

PART 1  PART 2

It was one of those dreamy midsummer nights.

When even the sun didn’t want to retire for the evening; the sky a rich, milky blue, and the air still thick and warm like honey. You were on the window seat, clad in one of Ada’s many wedding presents, a blush silk slip and matching robe, a gift she had brought back from her week in Boston.

You were happy. Irrevocably so. The floor and love seat crowded with the people you held closest to your heart, the room smelt of expensive vanilla candles and strawberry wine, and the deep throaty rumble of laughter filled every empty space.

It was perfect. Well - almost.

You missed him.

It was only one night apart, you had spent longer times separated when he went out of town for business or you had a rambunctious girls weekend with Ada and Esme - but still you missed him entirely.

You knew he missed you too. That much was obvious from the disdain on his face when Arthur and Polly laid bare their plans for the night before your wedding. There hadn’t been time for an engagement party let alone a bachelor party - a few weeks after announcing the news Tommy had been due to attend to some business in New York, and he was adamant that you were to come along. He wanted to treat you, show you the vibrant city and all of the glitz and glamour of Broadway, but you knew that was only part of the reason. He didn’t like you out of his sight for too long, the wound on your chest might have been puckering into a scar but the pain was still fresh in his mind and his overprotectiveness had tripled.

After a brilliant few weeks away in the big apple, filled with passionate, breathless kisses and red satin dresses and driving hand in hand down the Brooklyn bridge, you finally returned home - but much like the city you had just left, Thomas Shelby had no time for sleeping. He was knee deep in new deals and navigating his partnership with Alfie Solomon’s, as well as his new venture of manufacturing gin. Despite the long nights and the early mornings, you never felt neglected. You loved him, all of him, and that included his workhorse nature and tenacity. And besides, he struggled being away from you, finding himself noticing the lack of warmth in his office, when at home you would be perched on his lap, pressing dizzying kisses to the base of his neck. He missed the sound of your laugh and the way that you giggled, biting your lip innocently, making him want to bite it even harder.

He loved you, and that god awful summer had shown him that all he truly cared about was having you by his side. So for every night he was at the office, or every morning he was out of bed before you woke up, he made it up to you with a weekend away, or a signed first edition of your favourite book, or a piece of jewellery he had made for you. They might have been material things, but the meaning couldn’t be clearer, he was hopelessly, dangerously, completely, in love with you.

His main present to you though, arrived a few days after his sudden proposal in his office.

He originally wanted to take you into London, show you the finest jewellers by the water and let you choose anything that caught your eye - only the best for his best girl - but, after everything, his plans had changed.

Truthfully, marriage had been on the tip of his tongue since that very first day he locked eyes with you in the Garrison. He knew he had to have you, even before he knew your name, and by the time the two of you first kissed, tasting like sweet strawberries and cigarettes, he knew you would be the woman to take his.

But things got in the way. Marriage wasn’t as simple as it might have been for the people you passed in the streets. Marriage to him was like putting a target on your back, it meant your entire life being intertwined with his, the whole world knowing that you were the woman that made him fall to his knees. It would take everything from you, and the darkness would slowly start to seep into the light that surrounded you, and he needed to keep you safe for as long as he could. He knew he was going to marry you, it was just as clear in his mind as it was that he was the leader of the Blinders, you were the missing piece in his puzzle.

But of course, his plans were blown to smithereens when the bullet shattered your collarbone that summers eve. His visions of red roses and rich wine and getting on one knee, feeling like a goddamn kid again when you gave him that smile as he pushed the ring onto your finger, were flung to the wind. And instead, his honeyed words were swapped with breathless desire and need, whispered in your hair as you were cradled in his arms, in the afterglow of such a dreadful day.

The one thing he knew he could get right, however, was the ring.

It had to be special. It had to be you. Something soft and sweet and gentle, but with an edge - sharp and strong and beautiful. Of course, it would be impossible to find any diamond or pearl that could compete with your beauty, but he wanted you to have the best.

That wasn’t the only reason though.

It had more to do with the jewel that had hung around your neck that day at the ball, the one that haunted him when the sky got dark and you were fast asleep beside him. He had come so close to losing you, only a hair away from the girl he loved being buried, and the thought was driving him mad. He controlled every aspect of his life, but this was something completely out of his grasp, and he needed to stop his dangerous thoughts.

He hadn’t been superstitious since he was a boy chasing his brothers through fields of wildflowers and listening to Polly’s ramblings by the fire, but he had to rule out every possibility. So a few days after he proposed, and with the best doctor in Birmingham giving you the all clear (and triple checking that the house was secured and being watched by practically a small army of Blinders - and a stern warning to Michael, Isaiah and Finn that if even a hair on top of your head was misplaced by the time he got back, none of them would be able to have any children)- he set off.

He told you he was signing a deal in Manchester, but he was really only a few miles away, at the campsite where he had spent the majority of his youth. It was all rolling hills of deep emerald and jade, and fog that curled and twisted around his ankles, and for the first time in a long time, he felt out of place. He had chosen the ring with the help of Polly, who was adamant she knew your taste better than him, something he vehemently denied.

It was beautiful and unique, just like you, and he never felt such a profound rush of love quite like when he pictured slotting it onto your finger. It was big, but not overly so - nothing tacky or too much, Tommy knowing that you never wanted anything glimmering or gaudy and that you’d probably hit him and then faint if you knew the price. But, in his eyes - nothing was too expensive for his little girl. Besides, he particularly liked the way the ring shone in the light, imagining all the men that would fuck off and leave with their tail between their legs when they saw it and realised that the most beautiful woman in the room was already spoken for.

The diamond was brilliant and a “Princess” cut, something that made him smirk because it was one of his favourite pet names for you, and he couldn’t imagine anything more fitting. The band was solid gold, two different paths that intertwined and curled like summer vines, making him think of the lightness and whimsy you carried around you. What really sold him though, were the soft, twinkling rose quartz gems that cocooned the diamond.

“For protection.” Polly had muttered as he twisted the ring between his fingers under the dim lighting in the store. He had rolled his eyes when she spoke but secretly the meaning behind them made his gut twist. Protection was something that he needed you to have in abundance, even if it came from small crystals the size of a half grain of rice.

The ring was so perfect. So rare and alluring and undeniably you, and he walked out the door with the feeling of pure content, something that only even happened when he thought of you. But he knew there was more for him to do. He sent Polly home, ignoring the raised eyebrows she gave him and brushed off the sixth sense his Aunt had always had. And with the ring safely nestled in its plush navy box in his breast pocket, he drove off.

The campsite felt like the past. It felt as though he was visiting somewhere deep in the confines of his mind, somewhere that he had locked and stored away and forgotten about, only now being able to see through the thick haze of smog. He met the elderly woman by the doors of her caravan, noticing the difference between his sharp suit and the furs and shawls she had covering her body. She smiled and invited him in, pouring him a cup of something that smelt like sap and crisp autumn apples.

“It’s been a long time, Thomas.” She said, eyes so dark they almost looked black as she watched him curiously.

“That it has.”

“What brings you to this part of the woods then? I thought you would have forgotten about the rest of us.”

It was a dig, but he refused to rise to it. He wasn’t in the mood for petty jibes.

“I’ve been busy.”

“So I hear.” She exhaled, stirring her tea meticulously with a golden spoon. “They tell me you’re practically running the country.”

He smiled softly and falsely, digging his hand deep into his pocket. “Let’s cut to the chase, eh?” He pulled out the small box, opening it in his palm, and twisting it round so that the clear cut diamond was twinkling right before her.

She grinned, leaning forward on her elbows to get a better look. “It’s beautiful. Must have cost a pretty penny.”

“The woman it’s for is worth it.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

“I know why you’re here,Tom. The boys told me what happened at that party of yours.”

He cleared his throat, not liking the lack of control he had over the conversation.

“Right, well then. Just tell me what I need to know.”

She closed her eyes, muttering something under her breath, and Tommy sat back on his haunches, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. Was he really fucking doing this? Sitting in a caravan in the middle of fucking nowhere getting his jewellery cleansed by some batty old woman he knew as a child? It went against everything he believed in, and was the exact opposite of the calm and level headed way he ran his business.

But then he thought of you. And your light. Your sweetness and the sound of your laugh, the curve of your lips and the flowers you wore in your hair and the grass stains on your little white dresses. He thought of the scar that ran along your collarbone, and the feeling of white hot desperation that had coursed through him when he that you might not wake up.

You were worth it. Fuck sensibilities and rationality. He’d drive to the fucking ends of the earth if it meant that it would keep you even just a little bit safer.

After what felt like an age, the woman opened her eyes and raised her head. She used the edge of one of her many colourful scarves to wipe the surface of the gems, her hands moving in quick, rhythmic circles.

“It’s clean.” She said. “There’s nothing bad on it. At least, not that I can see.”

Tommy felt the anvil strapped to his chest suddenly fill and float like a balloon, but he didn’t let it show. Instead, he brushed off the relief flooding though his body, and straightened up. “Well I came to the best.”

She smiled, both smugly and bashfully, the way most women felt around Tommy. “That you did my love.”

His fingertips merely brushed the top of the roll of money he had stuffed in his pocket, and the elderly woman sat back, shaking her head at him.

“It’s on the house. Maybe you can bring your girl around one day, I know we’d all like to meet her.”

Not fucking likely he thought. No way in hell would he bring you to a place like this, whilst he still had good memory’s of his youth, he didn’t trust the people that still lurked in the fields around this place.

Wanting to settle the score, he held out a wad of notes. “I insist.”

“And I decline.”

He didn’t like the way the conversation had ended, it didn’t sit quite right with him. He liked to make his deals as open and closed as possible, money was the best way to seal a deal, he didn’t work with favours. “Right, well. Thank you for everything.”

He looked out of the windows of the caravan as he gathered his things. It was starting to get dark, the sky blushing like summer strawberries and freshly sliced peaches, the air still a little thick from the heat. All that he wanted now was to get home to you, everything else had faded to static in his ears. He bit back a grin as he thought of how you would smile, all teeth and round cheeks and wide eyes when he showed you the ring. He imagined it sitting pretty on your finger, the nudge of the jewel against his when you intertwined hands and the way it would dazzle at night, not nearly as beautiful as you as you laid beneath him, sweaty and breathless and ethereal.

As sudden as a gunshot, sharp words from behind him cut through his daydreams like a blade.

“Have you ever considered, Tom?”

He merely paused, not even bothering to spin on his heel and face her. He knew what she was going to say and yet it still felt like a knife digging into a fresh wound as she continued speaking.

“That maybe it’s not the jewels? Maybe it’s you?”

He wasn’t the type of man to back down from a fight, and he was the unrivalled champion of maintaining his composure and remaining calm under every type of pressure, but even he couldn’t deny the shivers that twisted around the bottom of his spine at the implication of her words.

“Yes. I have.”

He could feel her shifting behind him, ready to lure him in, tell him the thing that kept him up at night and clawed at his throat when he watched you sleep; that perhaps he was the poison that seemed to follow you like a dark cloud. He was much too selfish, far too infatuated with you to keep you at arms length. The deafening ache that perhaps you were the reason he finally felt alive, and that maybe he was the reason you would end up buried. 

He didn’t allow himself to think any more, tossing his cash towards her, not even bothering to check if she caught it or if it landed on the floor, instead he raised a hand and walked off, murmuring under his breath. “Keep the change.”

He waited until he was back in his car, with a cigarette between his lips and the sour smell of petrol and ash filling his lungs before he finally inhaled, glad to be out of the fucking fresh air.

—————————————————————

Your reaction was even better than he imagined.

It was dark by the time he eventually got home, and he didn’t miss the buzz of warmth that pulling into the driveway brought. It was bizarre, he had spent so long feeling nothing that meeting you had reignited everything inside of him, he felt like a boy again, nervous and elated to see the girl he loved.

The lights were on, reflecting through the windows like flickering candles, and a pleasant yellow glow engulfed the shadows in the gravel. He could hear voices, (mainly Arthur’s), deep low laughter and the sound of music all throughout the halls. He winced slightly, hoping that whatever ruckus his family had brought wasn’t keeping you from resting. He was certain that this impromptu gathering was his brothers idea of raising your spirits, but Tommy would have felt much more comfortable knowing that you were peaceful and recovering somewhere safe, knowing that you were far too polite to send his family away.

“What the fucks all this noise, eh?” He shouted as entered, his tone was sharp but even he couldn’t stop the tiny grin making its way onto his face as he watched Arthur and John drunkenly dance in the living room.

“Ay! You’re back? How did it go?” Arthur asked, holding out his arms in greeting as his speech slurred.

“Everything’s in order.”

“Hurrah!” Arthur swayed on unsteady legs like a sailor on the rough seas, and

“Bloody hell Arthur, what the fuck are you on?” John laughed,

“It’s a celebration, brother.”

Tommy pushed him aside playfully, tuning out the sound of their bickering as he strode further in the living room, eyes brushing past all of the faces crowded around, his heart stopping when he finally found the one he was after.

You were curled up on the sofa by the fireplace with your legs tucked underneath you, your face flushing deliciously, the spark slowly reigniting inside of you - and Tommy swore that he had never seen something so beautiful. Michael, Isaiah and Finn were crowded around you, looking much younger than their years, playing cards in their hands and big, toothy grins, occasionally accusing the other of cheating. Polly watched from beside the fireplace, something that had once been the beating heart of the house, a place where the two of you coexisted so magnificently. He thought of the flames from the logs and also from deep inside of him, devouring you completely on the hardwood floors, the sound of your moans mixing with the crackle and snap of the kindling. He hadn’t looked at the fireplace since you had been shot, it was too intimate, too personal, memories of early morning laughter and pure carnal hunger when the sun set, his fingertips pressing against the softness of your throat as you melted like paper under him.

Now though, it had been filled with empty wine bottles stuffed with candles, wax dripping and melting down their green glass necks, the room smelling like cherries and lavender. He knew you had put them there, and it made him exhale, because it no longer hurt to look at it, and he knew that eventually, the fireplace would be yours again.

Polly caught his eye from over the sofa, hers glittering and twinkling with suspicion of where her nephew had been, taking a long, poignant drag from her cigarette. He ignored her. He had no doubts that she was completely aware of what he had been doing, and that imagining him back at his roots was conjuring a particular mental image in her head, but right now that was the least of his concern.

He tore though the living room, almost colliding with a dozen bodies, it seemed Arthur had dug up every close acquaintance within twenty miles and invited them over. The room smelt like sour whisky and spilled wine, and he swore he could see his expensive furniture lowering in price by the minute.

He loved his family, he would do anything for them, but God he wished to the highest heavens that they would fuck off so he could spend some time with his girl. If it was up to him the house would be completely empty, nothing but the sound of your laugh and the thump of your heart, fuck everything else.

You were wrapped up in your poker game, head tilted back as you laughed at something Finn had whispered to you, the small creamy corner of your bandage poking out from the collar of your dress. Tommy swore inwardly, the sight making him falter. As quickly as the feeling came, he brushed it away, not wanting you to see him worry, not wanting himself to fall into old and dangerous habits.

Finn saw him first, his youngest brother looking impossibly boyish and playful as he laughed with his friends, a world away from the man he tried so hard to be. One look and he was on his feet, quickly swatting Isaiah and Michael and gathering the cards in his hands. Tommy patted his shoulder fondly, his eyes fixed firmly on you, watching your pupils dilate and sparkle when you finally caught sight of him.

“You’re back.”

Breathless. Angelic. Innocent. It took everything in him to not gather you in his arms and take you upstairs all for himself.

“And you should be in bed.”

He sat down next to you, his knee brushing against yours.

You smelt of home.

Of sweet cinnamon and strawberries and wildflowers, messy hair and woodsmoke. You finally smelt like yourself, not like the chemicals and disinfectants that now filled the halls, making him want to set his whole damn estate alight because the reminders of what they caused were too painful.

“I’ve been resting for weeks, Tommy. Let me have a little fun.”

You gave him that smile. The one that made his knees buckle. The one that would have made him sign his company over to you if you asked - not that there would ever be a time he would say no to you. It was bizarre, how you were sitting there with no makeup on, your hair tied back with a baby pink ribbon, and you were undoubtedly the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

“Alright, alright, enough with the pouting.” He winked at you, making a kaleidoscope of butterflies erupt in your stomach. If it had just been the two of you he would have leant in and kissed you stupid, but he didn’t want to give his drunken brothers something else to whoop and tease about. He would save his romantics for later, when you were alone, and he could take his well earned time and leisure to ravage you.

He pulled you close to him, wrapping an arm around the edge of the sofa and over your shoulders, keeping you as close and protected as he possibly could, the simple action comforting him immensely. You snuggled into him, his body so warm and firm and safe, and he pressed a kiss to your neck as you relaxed, his lips scorching you like a brand. He felt his whole body exhale, feeling at ease because he was with the people he loved most in the world, with you tucked into his side like you were carved there, and the feel of your fingertips ghosting over his chest. His life was so fast paced and hectic and his mind was whirring a mile a minute, but at that moment, the there was no where else he would rather be.

His patience lasted exactly 47 minutes. His composure and lenience with his family finally snapped when Arthur bet John that he could do a better handstand than him, proceeded to leap onto his hands, flail about disastrously and then crash right into the console table, shattering an array of fine china and imported vases.

“Oh John, look what you did ya’ stupid cunt.” He said when he got to his feet, his hands slashed to ribbons and blood dripping onto the carpet. Esme rolled her eyes, grabbing her brother in law by the collar and dragging him out of the room to bandage him up before he inevitably passed out from all the alcohol.

Tommy straightened out next to you as Mary quickly rushed in and gathered the glimmering shards with a dustpan and brush. He heaved himself to his feet, reluctant to withdraw from your side, and he cleared his throat once before speaking. “Alright, that’s enough for tonight, everybody fuck off.”

You rolled your eyes at his terrible bedside manner, tugging on the edge of his rolled sleeve playfully, making a small smile cross the edge of his lips. Polly pressed a hand to your shoulder as she herded the boys out of the room, each of them mumbling drunken goodbyes and pressing whisky stained kisses to your cheeks, mindful of the placement of their hands and your scar, mainly because of Tommy’s sharp, warning glare.

Johnny Dogs grumbled something along the lines of parting, but instead passed out face down on the carpet, his body rising and falling with heavy snores. Tommy waited rather impatiently as you said goodbye to the remaining guests, wanting nothing more than some well earned solace with his girl.

When you were finally alone, the moon dancing across your skin through the large open windows, soft music filling the room and the smell of sticky split wine following you both, he pulled you into his arms. He looked at your face and smiled. You were ethereal. Golden and glowing in the twilight, eyes sparkling like diamonds. Your face had changed a little in the time you had been together, your body and mind maturing and adapting, but you still looked so young. A breath of clear, fresh air amongst all of the smoke.

He lifted his hand to wipe a few specks of shimmering rose rouge from your cheeks, evidently left from where Esme hugged you goodbye, but you got there first, playfully taking his finger in your mouth and gently sucking and biting at his fingertip.

He felt a fire ignite in his stomach and his trousers tighten. How were you - so small and sweet and innocent, able to control his body like you were a master puppeteer and he was nothing but wood and string? It was baffling to him, an enigma that he craved to solve but knew that he never could. He was completely and incurably love sick.

You were going to be the death of him.

He pulled you even closer, freeing himself from your grip and taking your head in his hands, smashing his lips onto yours. You melted into him, practically putty in his hands. His teeth clashed against yours, the kiss was messy and desperate, as though you were two kids determined to make the most of the time you had alone. He felt everything wash off of him, all of his stress and tension melting down his spine like candle wax. Because, with your body flush against his and his mouth pressed up against your own, he was home.

You pulled away shyly and reluctancy, and he felt the absence of your warmth immediately. He moved to drag you back, not done with you just yet, but he followed your gaze to the man on the floor. Johnny had somehow managed to roll over onto his back, still asleep and snoring, but with his eyes half open, his gaze focused on the two of you. Tommy let out a rare, genuine laugh, and it made you feel like somebody had lit a firework in your chest. He wrapped his fingers against your own and tugged softly, his voice deep and rumbling like the ocean.

“Let’s go upstairs, princess. I’ve got something to give to you.”

Your room was safe and it was warm. It smelt like ripe peaches and fresh mint and rolling tobacco, like leather and lace; innocence and sin. It had finally become yours again, interlocked like your fingers, intertwined like your hearts, something so precious and belonging to just the two of you. It had broken his already shattered heart when you were separated, and looking at you now through heavy eyelids as you sat on your knees in bed, waiting expectantly for him to reveal his present, he took a moment to thank whoever was listening for giving him a goddamn angel.

“You need to stop buying me things, Tommy.” You scolded gently, shifting on your legs.

“I’ll do whatever I bloody feel like.” He replied, undoing his cuff links and loosing his tie. He liked to always be properly dressed and sharp, but around you he wanted nothing more than to lose himself in your sweet comfort.

You watched him, so beautiful and angelic looking under the yellow lights. You smiled to yourself at his mussed hair and natural pink pout; the side to him that only ever flared up around you. You kept your eyes trained on him as he rummaged around the room, taking off his jacket and folding it over a chair before turning around and pointing a finger at you.

“Close your eyes.”

You huffed. “Is that really necessary?”

“Close ‘em.”

You looked up at him teasingly, exhaling loudly before closing your eyes. You felt him moving around the room, listening to the soft creaks of the wood and the sound of his footsteps as he approached the bed. He lifted your arm and you giggled as his fingertips ran down your skin, stopping at the middle of your wrist, pressing a kiss to your pulse point. You opened your mouth to speak but before you could he pushed something onto your ring finger. Even with your eyes closed you could feel his smile.

“Open.”

It took you a moment to register what you were seeing, the surprise knocking the air right out of your lungs. Your eyes flickered from him back down to your ring, your mouth agape. You hadn’t really thought about an engagement ring, flashy diamonds weren’t really up your alley and with everything that had happened tradition seemed to have flown out of the window, but you should have known Tommy would always be one step ahead. It was beautiful. So brilliant and classic and totally you, and you could feel tears pricking behind your eyes, your mouth going dry.

“Oh, Tom! Oh, Tommy it’s beautiful!” All of your restraint was gone, and you leapt onto him, wrapping your legs around his waist as he caught you effortlessly, like he always would. He let out a laugh, slightly stunned from your reaction, and the feeling of your lips pressing hot, quick kisses all across his skin. He held you tight, burying his nose in your hair and pulling you impossibly closer.

He felt your lips at the base of his ear, brushing against his flesh as you spoke. “This must have cost a fortune!”

He shook his head, not even needing words to convey his feelings. To him it was obvious. Nothing would ever be too much for you.

You admired it from over his shoulder, watching the hypnotising way that it glimmered in the light. He gently walked forward, leaning you down so that you were in contact with the bed, tilting up your face so that you were looking him in the eye.

“There’s something else.”

“Tommy - ”

He had already started unbuttoning his shirt, and you sat back and watched as his nimble fingers looped down his torso, finally grabbing something underneath and holding it towards you.

You inhaled sharply, feeling yourself floating.

He had your name engraved on a silver dog tag, much like the ones he had thrown into the cut with Freddie along with his medals of honour. This was what mattered to him, your name carved into the metal, dangling right next to his heart, because it was only you who owned it.

Your eyes met, filled with love and lust and true happiness. A week ago you had been lying in bed, terrified that Tommy might not be in love with you, but now it was clear that the two of you were bound together, that you were the safety of a lighthouse to his wandering ship.

He kissed you - greedily and open mouthed, and you fell into him, letting him devour you. His hands worked quickly, desperate to see all of you, everything laid bare for him, with nothing but the ring glinting under the pale light of the moon. He kissed your neck, collarbone, throat, his hands and calloused fingertips brushing your flesh.

“I love you, (Y/N).” He said and you melted. You never felt short of love around him, but hearing those three words was like a hit of heroin, and you were desperate for more. You knew that he was as well, that he craved your stability and the sweetness you gave him, and you pulled his head from the crook of your neck, getting lost in those ocean eyes.

“Oh, Tommy. I love you.”

—————————————————————

The weeks passed, and the ring on your finger still gave you goosebumps when you saw it - a reminder of the man you loved. Life continued, business slowly dripping back into your days, the hazy bubble of love you had entered starting to pop but never fully dissolving. Tommy was adamant that you shouldn’t start back at work, making it very clear to you that he didn’t want you doing anything until he was beyond certain that you were completely healed.

You hated being stuck in the house however, and still managed to find a way to get a very reluctant Michael to sneak in some accounting work for you to do. Something that made Tommy see red when he found out, only to have you pout and preen and make all of his anger subside, although Michael wasn’t as lucky.

Wedding planning hadn’t been on your mind, not with business booming or the wonderful trip to New York. You were happy with everything, dizzied with love and lust and laughter, and whilst your finger had gotten much heavier, there was nothing in your relationship you wanted to change.

That didn’t stop Polly or Ada however from trying to plan the best party England had ever seen.

You remembered a sleepy Sunday morning with the two of them, and the shrill sound they both made when you said that you didn’t want a big wedding.

“What? Finally something bloody good happens to this family and you don’t want us to celebrate?”

You rolled your eyes, dunking your biscuit into your coffee with a smile. “I’m not saying we can’t celebrate, I’m just saying that I haven’t really thought about it, I just want something small.”

“Small? Every woman has dreamt of her wedding day!”

You looked over at Ada, wanting her to back you up against such traditionalist views. Instead, she held up her hands and laughed, shrugging her shoulders. “I hate to admit it, (Y/N) but I agree with Pol! It’s about time this family had something good happen, and you and Tom deserve a bloody wonderful day. I’ve never seen a love story quite like yours.”

You smiled at her kindness but didn’t let up, stirring your tea with your matching spoon.“I don’t want a fuss! I don’t need a big wedding to be happy, I just need him.”

“Well that’s sweet.” Polly interjected. “But I want to buy some new furs and get drunk and wake up next to a man who likes to buy me diamonds.”

You laughed out loud.

“Since when do you need a man to buy you diamonds?” Ada snorted, staring down her aunt over her strawberry filled pastry.

“I don’t. But they always look better when they’ve been bought by someone else.”

You sighed, watching the two of them playfully bicker, feeling so grateful that the stars had aligned and they were now your family.

“So you don’t have any plans? Not even a date or a dress in mind?” Polly asked, her brisk voice cutting through the banter.

“No.” You smiled. “The only thing I’m sure about is the groom.”

Polly rolled her eyes. “Well that’s going to need to change.”

——————————————————————

Slowly but surely you started to fall back into old habits and patterns, picking up where you left off at the Garrison, and meeting Michael and Isaiah for drinks in the city. Tommy was reluctant to loosen his grip at first, so used to having you all over him in the comfort of your own home, safe and warm under the protection of his watchful gaze and gentle hands. He knew that he didn’t own you, and that he couldn’t keep you under lock and key like a prisoner, but he spent those first few weeks anxiously pacing in his study, dreading the phone ringing and finding that you had once again been hurt because of him.

He kept his work as separate from you as he could. He knew you wanted to be by his side through everything, but the wound was too fresh for him, too raw, and he needed to know that you were safe. So he kept his sins and misdemeanours away from you, making his home his sanctuary and you his oasis, finding religion in your lips and solace in your touch.

You were in no hurry to arrange anything. As much as you loved the idea of Tommy being your husband, you were happy to just let things slowly fall into place and try to regain whatever normalcy you had lost - but your future in laws had different plans.

Polly was a whirlwind. She spent the majority of her free time writing letters and phoning different market vendors from all over the world, her office filled with sugar icing and the finest loose leaf tea that money could buy, all gifts from those wanting to cater what was set to be the “wedding of the century.”

You didn’t mind - even when she stole you away for an entire work day to pick out cutlery and matching table runners, or you came back from the department store with pin pricks up and down your body from hours of having dresses fitted. She was happy, and when darkness seemed to follow the family like a storm cloud, you were adamant at grasping at whatever you could get, even if it wasn’t quite what you envisioned.

You knew Tommy found the whole thing hilarious. How his stoic and level headed Aunt had been swept up in lavender and lace, snapping at bakers over mango whipped frosting and arguing about the best way to cook lamb. It made him so damn happy though, when you came home after a long day - eyes tired but sparkling, face flushed and glowing, the way that he always wanted you to be. The distraction was what you needed, something sugar coated and dreamy to blur everything that had happened, and he knew that you were in great hands with Polly.

He couldn’t even deny that he was looking forward to the day. He knew more than anything that he wanted you to be his wife, and whilst he loved shiny, expensive things, all he truly needed was you by his side. He didn’t want a fuss, he wanted whatever you did, but imagining you all wide eyed and honey lipped at the alter, rings forever symbolising your connection, the sound of your first name with his last.

Well, that he liked.

Even though you were feeling a little out of your depth amongst all of the wedding planning, there were some things that you knew that you wanted. Like, the powder pink roses from the bushes Tommy had gifted you for your birthday to line the stairway, and ocean blue forget me nots in the bouquet - to match his eyes. You even had a hazy vision of what you wanted your dress to be, the hours spent walking through boutiques in London with Ada paying off as you debated A line, trumpet, and ball gown style dresses.

The main thing you were certain about, however, was who you wanted by your side throughout the whole thing. You had a feeling he knew something like this was coming, he always did have a way of knowing what you were thinking, but even Michael wasn’t expecting you to leap out of his wardrobe hand in hand with Finn, holding out a small cupcake with a candle on the top one rainy evening.

“Holy shit!” He squealed, watching as you and his cousin broke down in fits of laughter, clutching each other as you toppled onto the floor, jackets and shirts trailing behind you.“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Surprise!” You managed to say in between deep throaty giggles. “We wanted to catch you off guard!”

“Well you fucking did.” He tutted, “Hiding in my wardrobe! Nearly fucking shat myself.”

Your laughter was infectious, and soon all three of you were close to tears, your bodies exhausted and elated, gripping onto one another to stop from completely collapsing.

“So what was the point of this ambush, then?” He asked finally, his hands on his knees as he gasped for air, his face slowly returning to its normal colour.

You thrust the cupcake under his nose, the tip of the flame narrowly missing singeing the little hairs on his upper lip. “I want you to be my maid of honour! Well, man of honour.” You corrected quickly.

“You want me to be your what?”

Quick to silence his objections, you added - “Finn’s going to be flower girl!”

“Flower boy.” He interjected, “Katie’s flower girl. I’m just doing you a favour.”

“Yeah. Right.”

You and Michael locked eyes for a moment, challenging the other with your gaze. After a tense minute of silence, he broke out in a smile, one of the classic, cheesy ones that you loved so much.

“Do I have to wear a dress?”

You grinned. “Only if you want to.”

He threw his arms in the air in mock defeat, and he seemed so much younger, reminding you of running barefoot with him through raspberry fields, and throwing pennies down a pretty little well.

“Alright. Okay. Yes! Bloody hell.”

You leapt into his arms and Finn whooped triumphantly, partly pleased for you but mostly happy that he wasn’t the only member of the family who had somehow been talked into something he was bound to be teased over.

You felt Michael press a kiss to the crown of your head, his words getting muffled by your loose hair. “God, does Tommy even know what he’s got himself in for with you?”

You smiled, as sweet as spun sugar.

“Nope.”

—————————————————————-

As much as you wanted to stay in the rose tinted bubble that wedding planning had created, more and more problems with the business started to arise, and everything had to be put on the back burner - but it never dampened your spirits.

The hot summer days bled into crisp autumn nights, and you were trading your short lavender dresses for fur lined coats and boots. You celebrated Christmas with everyone, and discovered that a day you never used to enjoy was now your favourite, all because of the man you would up beside.

New Years passed in a flurry of drunken kisses and gold dresses and dancing until the sun rose. You vaguely remember finding Arthur passed out in the bathtub, surrounded by ice and champagne, the gramophone shaking the paintings on the walls. Your main memory was Tommy pulling you down the hall with him, away from the rest of the family, kissing you right as the clock struck midnight with hands tangled in your hair and a smile on his lips.

He often left for weeks at a time, work taking him up and down the country, and that meant that every morning and night you spent together was treasured.

One particular spring morning, when the air was starting to warm up and the days getting a little longer, you were sprawled on Tommy’s lap in the garden, reading from your novel whilst he read the paper. The day was less than half way though and you had already spent the entire morning in bed, making up for all the time you had lost. Now you leafed through your book with strawberry stained fingers, the curl of cigarette smoke twisting around you both.

Tommy had made it certain that he was not to be bothered that day. It had been almost an entire month of nothing but speaking over the phone and stolen kisses before he had to up and leave again, and the only thing he goddamn wanted was to do absolutely nothing with you. He was exhausted, not that he would ever admit it, but because you knew him better than absolutely everyone, you forced him to take a break before the man you loved completely crumbled like a bourbon biscuit.

So when you knew that he was coming back, you gave Mary strict orders to ignore all phone calls or mail regarding the business until the weekend was over. She had happily obliged, so you and Tom were both confused when you saw her running through the grass in her wingtips, her hands still soapy and wet from doing the dishes.

“Oh Mr Shelby! And Mrs Shelby!” She called, her voice so shrill that a few birds even took flight. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

Tommy sat up as best he could with you on his lap, his arms snaking around your waist to stop you from toppling over. You could feel the cigarette moving with his lips as he spoke, his accent deep and throaty in your ear.

“Mary? What is it?”

She didn’t reply, instead thrusting a sage green and gold piece of paper at you. You caught it before it fell to the floor, and let out a loud, genuine laugh when you read the script. You felt Tommy leaning over you shoulder, and felt the rumble of his body as he laughed with you.

“Well,” He said finally, pressing his lips to your neck. “Guess we know what we’re doing next month, Princess.”

On July 20th

Please join us for the union of Mr Thomas Shelby and (Y/N, Y/L/N).

The wedding of the century!

————————————————————————————

Polly had organised everything. Whilst you had been dealing with the accounting from the Garrison and Tommy had been building his business, Polly had managed to do her job, and single handily plan a wedding.

Everything was full steam ahead. The house was a flurry of florists and caterers, the grounds were picked and preened and polished by gardeners that had sailed over from Italy and the south of France. It was wonderful, if not a little overwhelming, but it was worth everything to see your future Aunt beaming as she supervised everything.

Tommy had pulled you aside a few times, determined to make sure that this was what you wanted, ready to pull the plug if he even caught a whiff that all of the glitz and glamour were out of your comfort zone. But Polly knew you well - not that you ever doubted her - and everything was beautiful and muted, classic and beguiling, just like something out of a fairytale.

You tried to be as involved as you could, picking out flowers for the bouquets, letting Esme try out a million different hairstyles on you as you sat barefoot and cross legged on the floor like a child, running around the kitchen with Katie, taste testing all of the frosting you could find. More than anything though, you were excited, elated for the day and it had nothing to do with all of the smoke and mirrors, instead it was the man you would meet at the end of the aisle.

You could tell that Tommy was getting antsy for the day as well. He was softer, calmer, his touch on your skin gentle but possessive, calling you “Mrs Shelby” as you came apart under him. He found himself falling asleep a little easier, his breath not getting caught in his lungs, his mind wandering and imagining his favourite girl in a pretty white dress, waiting for him under an arch of blush coloured tulips.

The real surprise though, came the morning before your wedding. You were curled up on the sofa drinking strong coffee and eating honey toast as Tommy finished some paperwork. He was trying to get everything done before the end of the day, wanting tomorrow and the weeks that came after to be nothing but the two of you.

You told him you never felt neglected. You had been by his side through it all, you knew just how demanding his job was, but that still didn’t ease the niggle of pressure at the back of his neck when he had his nose in his books for too long. He truly couldn’t wait until he could shove everything and everyone else aside. All he wanted was his girl in his arms with his ring on her finger, and a bottle of sweet gin.

Everything seemed so within reach, until the front door banged open like a whirlwind, and you heard the sounds of Polly’s stilettos against the hardwood floor.

“Alright you two, no time to lose!”

You and Tommy lifted your heads quickly, your eyes meeting across the room. “Polly?”

“- and Arthur!” An voice added, accompanied by the familiar face of the eldest Shelby.

You smiled, shutting the cover of your book. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Tommy shot you a sharp look that said, don’t encourage them, but you ignored him, getting to your feet to greet them both.

Polly kissed you quickly on both cheeks, leaving you covered in a light layer of sticky red lipstick as she surveyed you both.

The study was the only place the two of you could find solace amongst the craziness of the wedding planning, every other room in the house filled with servants and buckets of flowers, the floors freshly waxed and polished. You could practically feel Tommy rolling his eyes behind you as Mary pushed open the double doors, holding your pastel pink overnight bag.

“Mrs Grey, I’ve packed all of Mrs Shelby’s things like you asked.”

“You did what?” Tommy said, rising to his feet.

Polly brushed him aside, reaching for the bag in the maid’s hand.“Ah. Thank you Mary, but it’s not Mrs Shelby yet, not till tomorrow. Let her be Miss (Y/L/N) for one last night.”

“Polly?” You asked, “What are you up to?”

She winked at you, her eyes catlike and beautiful, filled with the mischief that always hung around her. “You’re coming with me, love.”

“And you Tom, are coming with me.” Arthur said, pointing a finger at his brother.

“No. Fuck off, both of you.”

Polly put her hands in the air, but you could tell she had been expecting his resistance. “No Thomas. She needs a night as a free woman! Lord knows after tomorrow you’ll be keeping her all to yourself.”

Tommy straightened his back and crossed his arms, never one to back down from a fight, especially with his Aunt. “She’s staying here.”

“It’s tradition!” Arthur interjected, his voice already slurred despite it not even being noon yet.

“Fuck tradition.”

You moved forward, blinking up at your future husband. You knew why he was being so stubborn, the day before your wedding would be the prime time for something to go wrong, or something to happen with you, and keeping you within reach was what he wanted. As much as you loved spending every second with him, you also loved his family, and knew that perhaps a night of drinking and laughing and exhaling, was what you both needed.

He looked at you, his eyes unmoving and stern. You didn’t falter though, mimicking his frown and knitting your eyebrows together, trying to knock down the walls he was so insistent on putting up.

“It might be nice, Tom.” You said. “You deserve to have some fun, and it’ll make seeing each other tomorrow all the more special.”

A moment passed and you felt him falter, the corner of his lips moving ever so slightly.

“Alright. Bloody hell, fine.”

“Good decision brother.” Arthur said,

“We’re not leaving town.” Tommy stated simply, laying down the law.

“We wouldn’t dream of it! Johnny brought his caravan down, all of you men are camping in the woods. Us girls are staying here.”

“Aberama Gold doesn’t happen to be one of these men does he?” You said playfully, nudging Polly with your arm. She rolled her eyes but pulled you closer, her fingers toying with the satin ribbons on your blouse.

“Cmon, love, lets go.”

“Wait.”

You felt Tommy approaching you both, his large hands cupping around your face. You melted into him, his touch so soft and so warm. His eyes were so very blue, cobalt and icy, but they made your stomach infinite. He pulled you into him, smashing his lips against yours, not caring who was watching as he dug his fingers into the roots of your hair, dragging you against his body. Breathless, he pulled away, smiling at the frown on your face from the lack of contact.

“Be safe. Alright? I love you.”

“I love you.”

“Alright you two.” Polly said exasperatedly, but you could hear the happiness in her tone. “Let’s go.”

You let her lead you away, smiling at Arthur as he bounded towards his brother, filling him in on the multitude of activities he had planned for the night.

Every single one of them involved drinking.

As you left, Tommy shot Polly a look, one that told her to keep you near and to keep you safe, and she nodded in response. As soon as you made it into the hall she laughed genuinely, squeezing your shoulder.

“You will definitely fit in with this family, (Y/N).”

“Hm?”

“Yes. You have the Shelby woman’s gift.” She leant down, her lips to your ear. “The power to control a strong man like a puppet.”

———————————————————————

So there you were. Wrapped up in satin and lace, a glass filled with blood red wine, your friends happy and tipsy, swapping stories under the moonlight.

Bea and Violet, two of your closest friends from back in the little village had arrived to be your bridesmaids, their eyes wide and glimmering when they had seen the life you now lived. You watched as they sat with Polly, telling her tales of when you and Michael had been young and stupid - not that much had changed.

Polly had invited all of the girls from work and your friends from in the city, and the laughter bounced off the walls and engulfed you. Ada was enchanting, completely beaming as she sat next to you, telling you every embarrassing thing about her brother she could remember as she downed shots of vodka and cinnamon whisky.

Michael was lounging on the floor with one of Polly’s fine fox scarves draped around his neck. Charlotte was curled up in his side with a cigarette, her hand intertwined with his as she watched him with dopey, loved up eyes. You caught his eye and smiled at him, and he winked in response, joining in with the girls’ as though he was one himself.

You had told him to enjoy the night with the boys, but he refused. You partly suspected that it had something to do with Tommy, and that your fiancé had wanted you to have more protection, but you also knew that Michael wanted to spend tonight with you. Things hadn’t changed per say, but there was no denying that the both of you were getting older, and soon you would be a member of his bloodline rather than just his best friend.

You still had all of your wonderful memories, like running through sunflower fields and swimming in the river until the sun set, but they seemed further away now, almost out of reach. Part of you still clung to the past, the innocence of your youth, all peach skies and daisy chains, but there was no denying that your vision was cloudy, blurry, only focused on the future, and the only man that you wanted to be in it.

Somebody flipped the record over. You listened to the thump and rhythm of the music, smiling at those you loved as they danced around you. You adored everyone in the room, even Lizzie who had arrived already drunk and had glared daggers at you every time you turned around. These were your new family, your new life, and whilst you were elated and excited for it all, you also really needed some fucking air.

Almost on cue, Violet toppled over a champagne flute as she kicked her legs like a cabaret dancer, and you sighed playfully as she covered her mouth with her hands like a small child, her eyes as wide as the moon.

“Oh! Oh! I’m so sorry!”

“Violet, it’s alright! I’ll go and get some cloth, you ladies stay here, try not to break anything else, eh?” You said rising to your feet and darting out of the door, the sound of laughter following you like twinkling diamonds. As soon as you could you ran down the stairs, your feet pattering against the carpet, sneaking out of the back door and into the jet black night.

————————————————————-

The moon was round and full, and you sat cross legged on the grass, your bare feet dipped into the lake that wrapped around the property. It was your favourite place to clear your head, under the weeping willow, listening to the sound of the animals around you, the night air brisk yet comfortable. It was hard to believe that in a few hours you would be married, bound to this brilliant man that had swept you up like a rough wave, capturing you completely.

“Not having second thoughts are we?”

You smiled in the dark. His voice cutting through the night like a knife through butter.

“Tommy.” You breathed, turning around and facing him, the spark of his cigarette as bright as the stars above you both. He grinned at the sight of you, his shirt unbuttoned at the top and his sleeves rolled up, looking like a vision under the moonlight. “What are you doing here?

“I should be asking you the same question.”

“I just needed some air.” You said, curling your toes and inhaling the cool air, you felt his eyes all over you, and you wanted to get as close to him as possible, replace his gaze with his fingertips. You were inches apart and yet you still missed him, and you knew that you would feel this way forever.

“Ah. I take it the ladies are just as boisterous as the men. I only managed to get away after Arthur fell into the bonfire.”

“Bloody hell! Is he alright?”

“Burnt moustache and bruised ego. Nothing he can’t handle.”

You were about to laugh but you stopped suddenly, remembering something important.

“Wait! It’s after midnight!”

“Are you about to turn into a pumpkin?” Tommy asked, amused by your change in tone.

“No! We’re getting married today! You can’t see me!”

“(Y/N).”

“Turn around!” You squealed, pushing him away from you and spinning on your heel.

You heard an exasperated laugh.

“I think we’ve had our fill of bad luck, little one. Turn around, I want to see your face.”

He took you in. No makeup and loose hair and still squeezing all of the air from his lungs.

“We don’t have to do it like this, you know.”

“If this isn’t what you want - all the fucking champagne and caviar. We could leave tonight, get married in a fucking courthouse - just us. Or we could do it in Johnny’s field, get him to marry us right next to his caravan. I don’t care where it is or what we do, I just want - I just need to be with you.”

His words made your gut twist, the sincerity in his voice meaning everything to you, knowing that he would move mountains if it would make you happy, and that you would do the same for him. “I think Polly would murder us.”

“She doesn’t scare me.”

“She should.”

“No. I want this. Yes it’s all a bit... much.” you struggled to find the right word, feeling overwhelmed but ultimately completely spoiled by all of the fuss. “But I think it will be lovely. Your family deserve this. You deserve this.”

Looking at you all sleepy eyed, dressed in silk and satin and lace, your necklace hanging in the sweet dip of your throat, the ring on your finger glinting under the summer twilight, he really wasn’t sure he did.

He pulled you into him, not wanting to be apart from you for any longer. You smelt of home, like violets and green apples and vanilla cupcakes, and he felt like heaven, with his strong body and warm hands and comforting arms. Safe in his presence, you mumbled the words that had been the reason for many of your sleepless nights.

“Do you think she’ll come?”

She being your mother. The woman who had nursed you and bathed you and kissed the scrapes and bruises on your knees when you were a child had all but refused to attend your wedding. You understood why. Your trip to visit Michael in Birmingham was only supposed to be a few days, a week at most, and here you were two years later engaged to a man on the other side of England. You had tried to come home a few times, but the visits were cold and severed, Michaels foster parents filling your mother with poison about the family you had entered.

The phone calls stopped. No more weekly letters from your mother or care packages wrapped in string. You still wrote, but you never got a reply, only a small impersonal card at Christmas and your birthday. Michael understood, and always knew how to comfort you. He had also left the only family he had known and entered the strange underground where you both now lived. He was a boy from the sleepy village who had grown into a man.

It was harder for you, being a woman meant that you were held with certain standards and expectations. But, luckily you had Polly and Ada who taught you that you could be more than just a housewife.

It affected Tommy the most though. If anything was bothering you he knew how to deal without immediately, crushing whatever had made you sad with the heel of his boot, using his power to make everything alright again. He couldn’t do anything about your mother though, couldn’t twist her view of him, not when it was so accurate.

He was bad for you and you were too good for him.

It hurt him though, when late at night you would get that sad, wistful look in your eyes. Or when you would wait for the postman every Monday, the disappointment bleeding from you every time nothing came. He wanted to fix everything, but he didn’t know how. He left the bulk of the comforting words to Ada and Michael, and did his best to show you how much he cared in his own way, with gentle touches and shared looks and those three words that always made him feel better.

Your wedding though, was a different matter. There was no way in hell that you would be anything less than happy if he had something to do with it. His heart broke a little the day that the RSVP came back in the post, a simple “unable to attend.” scrawled at the bottom, as though it was a routine doctors appointment and not her daughters wedding day. Tommy knee he had to fix it when he heard the muffled sound of sobs coming from your bathroom, his heart ripping in two just thinking about the tears staining your beautiful face.

He had a meeting in London but he pushed it back, determined to right the wrongs that lingered around you both. His black matte Bugatti looked incredibly out of place as it trailed down the quiet village lanes, the purr of the engine much louder than the bird songs and running water in the background. It wasn’t hard to picture you in the chocolate box cottage that he parked in front of, smiling ever so faintly at the thought of you running through the grass when you were a child, hanging up laundry in the summer, drinking hot chocolate in the winter.

She opened the door after the first knock, her eyes the size of dinner plates and her mouth agape. Usually, Tommy would be firm and curt and rude, demanding exactly what he wanted and when he expected it to be done, but he knew that he had to be somewhat kind to your mother, even if he currently resented her because of the state you were in.

“I won’t stay long, Mrs (Y/L/N.)” He said, not bothering to step over the threshold, knowing that she’d probably scream if he did. “You might not like it but I’m in love with your daughter. I intend to marry her, and as my wife, I want to make her happy.”

Your mother didn’t interject, merely nodded, and Tommy took that as a sign to continue.

“I know what you think of me and you’re not wrong, but don’t punish your daughter over it. (Y/N) is safe and she is happy, and as her mother that should make you pleased shouldn’t it? Not behaving like a child and treating as if she is a stranger. I want my wife to be happy, so put aside your fucking prejudices and buy a nice hat, alright? For her sake.”

The tension was thick and hot and practically dripping over them, but their eyes met briefly, and something flickered between them.

���I hope to see you at the wedding.” He bit, his tone as sharp as his canines, turning on his heel and heading for the car.

He hummed quietly, listening the sounds of the night. The flicker of the bonfire in the fields behind, the sound of drunken singing and chanting that was louder than a siren.

“I think she will.”

You thought about saying something but held it in, not wanting to ruin the tender moment of him holding you against his chest, the heat of summer nothing compared to the two of you.

He moved you slowly, placing his hands either side of your face, his eyes veiled and moonless.“Go and get some sleep.” He said. “Because you won’t be getting any tonight.”

His voice was low and wolffish, and you felt your entire body setting alight at his words and the darkness in his eyes. His hold on you was so tight it was almost painful, but there was nowhere else that you would rather be. You smiled prettily, already feeling the butterflies coiling in your stomach, leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss him, sweet as strawberry ice cream and fresh honey, the taste lingering on his tongue. You left silently, leaving him grinning dopily, drunk on you and the heat of the evening.

He watched you as you walked away. His eyes never leaving as you stalked back to the house, his gaze lingering long after your shadow grew small, and the front door opened and closed behind you.

————————————————————————

Polly let you sleep in until 8.

You had crashed out after seeing Tommy, Polly had scolded you for leaving and then insisted that you got some beauty sleep, and you practically collapsed into the powder pink pillows on the guest bed.Sleep had come easily, and you grumbled a little when your new in laws had barged in the next morning, pulling back the curtains and letting in the heavy sunlight.

You were ushered into the master bathroom. The claw foot tub had already filled to the brim, rose petals shimmering on the surface, epsom salts dissolving around you. It was warm and inviting, steam billowing around your face as you undressed, and a cup of cinnamon coffee waiting for you on the cabinet by the side, next to an almond croissant from your favourite bakery in London.

You were slightly confused as to how she acquired it, but you knew by now to never question Polly and her methods.

Mary came in not long after, the maid you now thought of as a close friend unable to keep the smile off her face as she helped wash your hair, dragging a soft toothed golden comb over your locks and massaging lavender oil into your scalp. You scrubbed your skin until it shone, washed your body and dragged a razor across any unwanted hair, soothing your skin with thick coconut cream and honey salve.

You could hear everyone on the floors below, the sound of clattering china and rivalling voices coming up through the floorboards. You thought it might make you nervous, but it didn’t, if anything it made you feel more certain. The butterflies in your stomach were a swarm now, and all you could think of was him.

The girls were spread out in the largest guest room. The big windows had been opened, the lace curtains billowing in the warm breeze, and you could see start of the canopy being set up along the great expansive garden, one of yours and Tommy’s favourite places.

Ada squealed when she saw you, even with just a towel around your body and hair, she showered you in compliments.

“You’re glowing!”

“That’s because I’ve scrubbed off ten layers of skin.” You teased, letting her hug you tightly.

The rest of the girls clambered towards you, cigarettes in their fingers and champagne on their tongues. They were a blur of sweet lilac and warm honeysuckle, the colours of their soft chiffon dresses sparkling under the low lights, and you could feel your heart burst at the sight.

“Oh, Pol.” You said quietly, “Everyone looks so beautiful.”

She came towards you, a vision in her golden draped dress. It was covered in glimmering beads and diamonds, and she looked like a starlet on the big screen. She took you in her arms and laughed, “All you need is Auntie Polly to wave her magic wand.” She shook you slightly, running her fingers along the damp skin of your arm. “Come on, you. I think there’s a very impatient man waiting for you.”

Your nails were filed and painted pink, your hair mused and styled by Mary, leaving it long and wavy down your back, the way that both you and Tommy liked it best. You laughed out loud when Bea and Violet showed you their wedding present, a beautiful swan white lingerie set from the dressmakers in the village, complete with high stockings and a frilly lace garter.

“Maybe keep a doctor nearby when he sees you in that tonight.” Bea giggled as you fingered the delicate stitching and fabric.

Not everything was perfect though. One of the caterers dropped a plate of crab cakes and goats cheese bruschetta onto the floor, and one of the mares that was going to lead the carriage to the church had bolted at the unfamiliar hands and raced around the paddock away from the grooms that tried to catch her. Polly had huffed loudly and left with the girls and promises that she would be back with someone’s head, you had nodded, oblivious to everyones anxiety, too dazed at the thought of the day ahead to worry about the little things.

So they left you alone in the big bedroom, staring at your reflection in the golden mirror. It had been a four woman job to get you into the dress. Ada holding you steady by the armpits as Mary and Polly and a unsuspecting servant from downstairs was roped into helping you slide under the fabric, the tulle and lace as heavy as an anvil on you all. Polly had the dress shipped over from Paris after months of searching for the perfect dress, finally ordering one completely hand made and one of a kind, just like you, she had said.

You had never seen Polly cry.

Once, almost, when she had too much brandy at Christmas and she spoke of how much she wished Anna could have been there, the lump in her throat unmistakable as she told you how much she missed her daughter. And now in her nephews bedroom, her smile so wide and her eyes glistening, as she took your face in her hands.

“Thank you for making my boys so happy.”

You could hear her downstairs. The click of her stilettos and the sound of her voice, and once again you were infinitely grateful for whatever cosmic force had brought this wild, brilliant and chaotic family into your life. You turned back to the mirror, running your fingers over the delicate beading on the corset of your dress.

It was without a doubt the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. It was the colour of a fresh blanket of snow, so angelic and pure. There were thin straps at the shoulders, decorated with tiny crystals and jewels. The bodice was cinched and slightly scooped at the neckline, the puckering of your scar showing just above the pristine chiffon.

It had never been something you wanted to hide. It showed that you were alive.

The skirt was wide and full. Layers of expertly fitted tulle and crinoline holding it together, gilding and cascading like a waterfall down your legs and to the floor. There were pearls and thread and diamonds in the shape of flowers stitched right into the fabric, glimmering and twinkling like the stars in the sky when you shifted in the light.

“I’ve left the car running.”

You turned at the noise, smiling when you spotted Michael in the doorway, looking like a million dollars in his rich navy suit and tie.

“Just in case.” He continued.

You rolled your eyes, laughing sarcastically. “Ha. Ha.”

He stepped further into the room, his eyes soft and kind and as wide as dinner plates. The emotion on his face making your heart constrict, his face suddenly so much younger. “Wow.” He breathed. “You look beautiful.”

You blushed, your eyes darting to the floor as he approached you.

“Really, (Y/N). You look... wow.”

“Thanks Mikey.” You said softly, the two of you comfortable in the silence. In that moment nothing else really mattered, you were two kids again, running through waist high grass, sledding down the hills in the winter, splashing each other in the river. So much had changed and yet it would always be the two of you.

He broke the silence first, not one to linger in the past for too long. “This is for you.”

“Oh. Michael. You shouldn’t have! You’ve already done so much.”

“I wanted to.”

He rummaged around in his pockets, finally pulling out a large scarlet velvet box, slowly lifting off the lid. Inside was an exquisite sparkling marquise diamond necklace, intertwined with yellow and rose gold, oval shaped crystals draping and falling from the band like raindrops. Beside it, were two matching earrings, brilliantly cut, so clear that you could see your reflection, the gems woven together like ivy on a cottage. So stunning that you started to tear up.

You gasped, unable to swallow your shock. “Michael! This must have cost a fortune.”

“Nah. I stole it.” He teased, his voice a little shy.

You pulled him in to your arms. He kissed your head, pulling you tightly against him.

“I love you.” He said, his words muffled by your hair. “You deserve this. God, you deserve the world. I am so happy for you.”

You smiled into the fabric of his suit, muffling an “I love you” into the stitched seams. He squeezed you playfully, making you squeal as he hoisted you into the air.

“Careful. If you smudge my makeup there’s a good chance that Polly will shoot you.” You giggled.

“I can handle her.”

“Can you?”

His gaze faltered and you laughed, hitting his shoulder. He spun you around, lifting the necklace from its box and settling it onto your throat, his skilled hands fastening the clasp. You gasped at your reflection, your eyes meeting his in the mirror.

“It looks perfect.”

“I love it Michael.”

He pressed a kiss to your crown, watching as you delicately picked up the earrings and put them on.

“And tell Tommy that if he ever hurts you that I’ll kill him.”

A moment of silence, and then:

“- you’re not going to really tell him that are you?”

You both laughed as he outstretched an arm, looking you up and down proudly, his eyes already a little glossy and big. You thought of how much younger he looked.

“Cmon.” He said, “ I think they’re waiting for you.”

————————————————————

Thomas Shelby never felt apprehensive. He wasn’t familiar with the prickling anxiety that lingered at the bottom of his spine, or the dread that that had settled itself low in his gut, or the way that his palms were growing hotter by the second. He never got nervous. Until now.

Perhaps nervous wasn’t the right word. He had no doubt that you would be walking down the aisle in a few minutes, he knew that you would say “I do.” with as much certainty as him, and he knew that the golden band in Arthur’s jacket pocket would soon be on your finger. But still, the foreboding remained, hanging around his head like a dark cloud.

He didn’t deserve you. He knew that much for sure. He was the devil, his hands stained with blood, his lungs filled with ash, his insides dark and mean. You were an angel, soft and sweet and gentle and warm, the girl that could bring him to his knees.

The church abbey felt big, the summer sun filtering through the stained glass windows, the high ceilings making the room feel vast and empty, despite the crowded benches. He needed you to arrive, to settle the unease inside of him, to light up the room in the way that only you could, feeling every single empty space with your light.

He glanced around the room. Arthur was next to him, nursing a pretty tragic hangover and still a little ashy from his burn, but his smile was bright and he winked at his younger brother. There were plenty of blinders here, working rather than as guests, Tommy was insistent that he wanted as much protection over the day as possible, and even though it was your wedding day, he never would stop protecting you. He wouldn’t put it past his enemies to try something on what should be the happiest day of your lives.

He saw your friends from work. John and Esme and their litter of children. Lizzie and her new boyfriend, hanging off his arm and looking at Tommy with already drunk, hazy eyes. He even smiled as he saw Alfie perched in a middle row, his hat bigger than his head, his beard neatly combed and an array of golden rings on his fingers. Ollie was next to him, watching the room warily, always on guard.

Once Alfie had heard about the engagement he sent over fresh loaves and flowers and then invited himself to the wedding. But he needn’t have, as he had always been on the guest list.

Tommy’s eyes grazed over the person he had been looking for though. Your mother. Sitting in a pew near the front, draped in fine silk and a matching hat, looking entirely out of place but smiling tightly nonetheless. Their eyes met, a single flame of acknowledgement flickering between them. Unspoken but still lingering in the air, that they would both always put you first and that was all that mattered.

“You nervous, Tommy boy?” He heard Arthur say from behind him. He opened his mouth to answer but stopped as he heard noises from outside, the clunk of horse hooves and the rattle of the carriage. He felt his palms sweat and his heart race like he was back in battle, but this time the feeling was so sickly sweet and warm, he felt so fucking happy.

There was so much light when the doors opened. Polly was traditional, and even with all of the immorality in her life, she was adamant that you would both be married in a church. Neither of you protested, Tommy would have said “I do” in front of God himself if it meant you would be his wife. None of it mattered to him.

He remembered the day you came back from seeing the cathedral for the first time. How wide your smile was as you laid curled up in his chest, his lips leaving open mouthed kisses on your neck as you told him all about the ivy covered steeples and wildflowers and beautiful black jackdaws.

You were smitten, and so was he.

There wasn’t much they could do to decorate the church. Back at the house was where the main party was going to be held, but Polly was a genius, and every empty space was filled with tall flickering candles and bouquets of flowers. Everything felt clean and soft and pure, a mixture of old and rustic and fresh and new.

Light. So much light coming in from outside. The day already so sticky warm and wonderful, much like the summer the two of you met and fell in love. Katie came in first, giggling at the eruption of “aww’s” from the pews, everybody watching as she threw small white daisies and coral amber rose petals down the aisle.

Finn followed, looking like an adult in his suit and tie and freshly polished brogues. Then the bridesmaids, coy smiles on their faces, hair curled and polished and smiles that seemed to stretch all the way to the moon. Tommy could feel Arthur’s sly grin from behind him, and knew that he would have a job of distracting his older brother from the beautiful young ladies later on.

The fabric of their dresses swished and swayed under the light, the softness of the skirts and the sharp heel of their stilettos such a wonderful contrast. The ladies whose faces he vaguely recognised moved to your side of the alter, young and impressionable eyes looking around the grand room, obviously astonished and surprised that one of their own was going to be married in such a remarkable chapel.

Ada was next. Polly at her side. His sister and his Aunt commanding the entire room with just the sound of their shoes and the sway of their hips. They looked incredible, such a mixture of power and beauty. Polly’s smile was smug and self assured, but also filled with a certain kindness that was meant just for Tommy. Ada’s eyes were glistening, looking at her brother with adoration and pride, and that playful tease that he knew and loved.

The room was quiet for a moment. The anticipation roaring around like a wasp trapped under a glass, and Tommy could see Curly smiling happily, peering down the aisle as they waited for you to arrive.

For Tommy, his whole life had once been so loud, and then, as if by magic, everything stopped. All of the noise, the blur, the people. They all faded and disappeared. It was like having his head held underwater, the rush of the ocean and the pounding of his blood in his ears deafening him. He felt movement around him, everybody in the pews rising to their feet, the orchestra starting the bridal chorus. His friends and family were smiling so widely, enjoying the ambience and the atmosphere, holding their hands to their chest and wiping their eyes and muttering how beautiful everything was.

He didn’t see any of it. He only saw you.

You had always been the most beautiful woman to him, the kind of woman that made the air leave his lungs and his heart beat a little faster, but oh god, did you look magnificent. In your dress that wrapped and dipped and swayed around your legs like running water, the bodice that cinched you in tightly, exposing the dip of your throat and the curve of your collarbone, just begging him to leave a necklace of bruises next to the diamonds. Your eyes were wide, lined with kohl and blush on your cheeks that reminded him of sun soaked days and strawberry jam and wax stamped envelopes. The curve of your lips, raspberry red gloss that made him think of kissing you until neither of you knew where one of you began and the other ended, his hands in your hair, your legs around his waist.

He felt tears prick behind his eyes. Such a foreign feeling that he almost recoiled. He was so used to being strong and in charge, never letting his emotions bubble up on the surface where somebody might see. But seeing you walk down the aisle, filling the room with love and youth and kindness - knowing that you were going to be his wife, that your days would begin and end with each other, that you would fight and fuck and laugh and cry, tell each other everything, hold him when the shovels got too loud, clean him when he was dripping with another mans blood, be the one you called because no one else would ever compare.

He let his eyes grow glossy as you stepped forward, taking his hand in yours. You were so smooth and soft and small and he was so large and rough and hard, but you fit together like you had been moulded that way, as though there was no where else you two could ever be. So in a room filled with people who respected him and trusted him as a cruel, calculated leader, he let himself be washed away with you,

Because he was in love. And nothing else fucking mattered.

———————————————————————-

Champagne and crystal chandeliers. Cotton candy coloured roses across all of the banister, wide full petals looking like silk under the lights. Pearl necklaces snapped in half and black satin gloves ripped up the seams, pretty fine china filled with bourbon, and laughter that never seemed to cease.

Tommy had tried to keep the party civilised for as long as he could, but the Shelby clan were persistent, and with the amount of booze in the house, they saw it as a challenge to drink it all.

The wedding dinner had gone well. Only the nearest and dearest invited to a seat at the grand table, you and Tommy at the head, his hand possessively on your thigh, your shoulder pressed against his chest. There were more courses than you could count, great big plates and bowls of honey roast ham and glazed partridges and peach trifle and jam soufflé. Your glasses were never empty and yet everyone was well mannered and kind, their voices a little softer than usual, their jokes a little bit cleaner.

You suspected it had something to do with the woman sat next to you, safely nestled in between yourself and Michael, the two people she knew. Your mother had been quiet but mellow at the ceremony, even going as far as hugging you with tears in her eyes as you gathered outside for the photos. There had been tension of course, but it meant the world to you that she was willing to put on a smile for the day.

You had no doubt that Tommy had ordered everyone to be on their best behaviour around her and you could feel yourself chuckle lightly as Arthur gave a very uncharacteristically charming toast to the two of you. The rest of the dinner passed pleasantly, and you could even see your mother start to loosen up as Ada spoke to her about her favourite novels and the current political climate.

After the plates had been cleared away and the guests started arriving for the party, your mother pulled you aside before you got to the living room.

“This might not have been what I wanted for you, (Y/N). You’re my daughter. I only want the best for you.” She murmured, wringing her hands as though she was willing herself to continue. “And it pains me to say it but... Thomas clearly loves you, and I truly feel safe leaving you in his hands. He might not be a good man, but he is good for you.”

Those words were more precious than all of the diamonds and jewels you had stuffed in your dresser upstairs, that your mother accepted the man you loved.

“Oh, Mum.” You sighed, pulling her into you. She was so familiar and warm and you could feel tears prickling behind your eyes. She held onto you tightly, kissing the top of your head and wrapping her arms around you as though you were a baby again.

“I must go and catch my train. But - I’ll call you (Y/N).” She said, and you nodded wildly, your smile so big you thought your cheeks might split.

You walked her to one of the cars, instructing the driver to take her to the station, waving at her as the car got smaller and smaller in your eyes. You felt Tommy approach you, his hand snaking across your waist, and you let him pull you close. He opened his mouth to speak but you cut him off, kissing him ferociously, letting your gratitude show in your touch. He accepted greedily, devouring you on the front steps of your home, his hands in your hair and your lips between his teeth, the sound of the party and music suddenly sounding so far away.

——————————————————-

With your mother gone, the party was in full swing. People were dancing barefoot because their shoes were stained with blood, sharing wide smiles between friends, the rooms smelling of skin and sweat and expensive perfume. You saw pupils blown up to the size of the moon, horse racing and gambling in the paddocks at the back, whoops and laughter vibrating around the house and shaking the paintings.

Tommy had kept you close, not that you ever wanted to stray. It was obvious that despite the genuine fun and admiration for him and all he had accomplished from those walking through his house with slack jaws, he only really wanted to be with you. It worked for the majority of the time, the two of you nestled on one of the ruby velvet chairs in the lounge, letting the crowds of people come and find you and offer their sincere congratulations.

But as always, being Thomas Shelby came with a price, and he often had to leave begrudgingly, with a tense jaw and closed fist, every time someone (Arthur) tore a painting or someone else, (Finn) crashed a car into the allotment and ripped up all of the courgettes.

He always left with a grumble and obvious annoyance swimming in his ocean eyes, planting a firm kiss to your lips and a promise to be back soon every time somebody called for him. He was never one for public displays of affection, he liked to make everyone know you were his but he preferred to keep his tenderness private. Maybe it was how drop dead gorgeous you looked in your gown, a looser, more intricate number you had donned for the evening party. Or maybe it was the rings you shared, the two solid gold circles looking like a sky full of stars under the lights, or maybe it was a mixture of the champagne soaked kisses and pure, uninhibited bliss he felt when he touched you - but whatever it was, you loved it, relishing the attention wholeheartedly.

You weren’t sure where he had got too this time, and somehow you had been wrangled into a conversation with a very tipsy Lord and Lady something or other, both of them fawning over you, their voices high like children. Your saving grace came in the form of a very tall, very stocky baker, his rings cool and comforting on your shoulder as he pulled you away.

“Yes. Yes. That’s very nice right, I’m just going to take (Y/N) away now, yes. Yes. Finish your drinks.” He waved them off as you laughed, “God, these rich fucks can talk for England. Fucking Liberty. Plus, I’ve seen them finish off all of the crab cakes. It’s not on.”

“No. Alfie, it’s not.” You said with a smile, letting him lead you into the parlour, the room almost empty and the faces that you recognised were pleasantly familiar. You grinned as you thought of how well Alfie knew the inside of the manor, something that you were sure to use as ammunition against Tommy any time he tried to tell you that “they weren’t friends.”

That was how he found you almost an hour later. Somehow the rest of the family had migrated into the room, bar Arthur who said he wasn’t drunk enough yet to be in the same room as Alfie. Tommy had been pulled and tugged in every direction, speaking to people he really didn’t give a shit about just to keep the party running smoothly, for your sake. He was on high alert, Johnny had said his boys had seen a figure running through the back paddocks, and just that alone was enough to send him spiralling. It was probably just a stray, strung out guest trying to get home, but it made his blood feel like it was electric.

He made all his men stay on guard, shut down the gambling and horse racing in the garden and made every single person who worked for him stay on red alert. Perhaps he was over reacting but he would never admit that, better to be overly cautious than have something happen to you. After doing laps of the house, checking on the cooks and gritting his teeth through drunken chats with whoever managed to grab him, he finally made his way back to you.

There you were. Face lit up under the candlelight, eyes tired but still sparkling, obviously exhausted but still enjoying the conversation, wanting to keep everyone happy. You looked ethereal. And for a moment he just watched you from the doorway, captivated by the movement of your hands, the bow of your lips, the way that you formed your words, so careful and light.

Alfie noticed him straight away, smiling cheekily as he pulled you into him. “Mrs Shelby.” He said, putting emphasis on both of the words and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. It was crazy how he could rile Tommy up more than anyone without being tipsy or high, somehow knowing how to push all of his buttons. “If you’re ever in London right, come to the bakery. I’ll show you a good time.”

You rolled your eyes at him, instantly knowing his game. You followed his gaze and saw the man you loved, your husband, watching you from the doorway.

“Tommy.”

“Excuse me, gentlemen.” He said firmly, brushing Alfie’s hand off you a little harder than he needed to. “I need to borrow my wife.”

God. Were you ever going to get used to him calling you that?

His hand slipped into yours and you melted, his lips grazing your ear lobe, deep accent rumbling like waves. “Cmon, lets go outside.”

You would have followed him anywhere, to the edge of the world if he had looked at you the way he was now, with those goddamn sky blue eyes and that smug, boyish grin.

Instead he led you through the party, playfully tugging on your hand as you both ran, desperate for nobody to see either of you and try to trap you in another mind numbing discussion. He took you through the servants entrance in the kitchen and into the courtyard, one of your favourite areas of the gardens. It was beautiful sculpted, with its high, emerald green bushes and intricately crafted pots and flower beds. You moved towards the fountain in the middle, surrounded by the rows of lilac and salmon tulips that swayed like ballet dancers in the wind.

He cleared his throat as you watched the water drip and fall and ripple down the stem of the fountain, the night sky reflected across it like a painting. It wasn’t chilly out but still he wrapped his blazer across your shoulders, filling your senses with cinnamon and nicotine and whisky sours.

“I want to read you my vows.” He said.

You turned to face him, confused.

“I know we both said we weren’t writing them, and I haven’t, not really, but there are some things I need to say to you.”

You opened your mouth to speak but closed it, watching him under the moonlight, how beautiful and how strong and how vulnerable he seemed all at once. You could feel your heart beating rapidly, your belly coiling and twisting, somehow he always managed to knock you off balance. He came towards you, close enough you could see the faint scars on his face from fights he had both won and lost, see the brilliance in his eyes and the sadness that always seemed to linger deep down in them, the curve of his lips and the sharpness of his teeth, the way that they had clenched around your heart and never let go.

“I deserve a lot of bad things. I do bad things, and I always thought that everything good would be taken away from me. I wasn’t born into a life like this, I’ve worked hard and given my blood sweat and tears to live like this, to get the things I have now. I’ve spent a lot of nights alone. Fuck, I’ve... felt alone since the moment I got on that train to France, and ever since I’ve been trying to find... something.”

“I thought it was all of this, but maybe it isn’t. I was always searching for the next big thing, the next move on the chessboard, the next city to take over. I didn’t realise how none of it made me happy until I walked into the Garrison the day you came here.”

A pause. A beat of silence.

“Look, I’m not the most articulate man, but God, I’m in love with you. I’ve loved you since the very first moment that I saw you. And - and - ” His voice crackles, fizzles out like a firework. “That day that I almost lost you, that nearly fucking killed me. That was when I realised that you were the thing I was searching for. You’re it for me.”

His hands on yours, pulling you in.

“For the first time in my life I don’t have to pretend to be happy. Whenever I see you, I just am. I can’t promise that I’m not going to fuck it up, but I’m trying, you make me want to try. You want to make me be better. You make me better.”

“I love you, (Y/N).”

He said, pressing his palm to your jawline, looking in your eyes with such sincerity and love that you felt as though you were floating.

“Oh, Tommy.” You breathed into the night, swept up and drowning in him, lost in lust and love and devotion, pressing your lips to his. “I love you.”

[mevekagvain]

Chapter 93 - Fancy chair, love it.

- So my theory is that Raizel just never learnt how to write in Lukedonian either.

- Tbh the janitor is suspicious. Like how hard was he googling M-21?

Chapter 94 - SUYIIIIIIIIIIII

- Ah geez the first of the racistly depicted characters.

Chapter 96 - Suyi getting mad at the kids for complaining about Hansu is so funny like when she first appears you think she's perhaps a stuck up celebrity or a pushover but it turns out she's just a really sweet friend.

- Suyi being stunned by Rai's looks but not falling for him (same with Yuna) is one of the things I always liked about Noblesse. Like sure in the first meeting they get blushy but I'll just jot that down to the inherent beauty of nobles since I can't relate to it at all.

Chapter 97 - Frankenstein's house always being stocked with so much food because the kids just started coming over daily is hilarious. Even funnier since Frankenstein obviously thinks it's overkill but is the one stocking up anyway.

Chapter 98 - Regis and Seira 🥺 Seira's og outfit was the best one she had like it only goes downhill from here folks.

Chapter 99 - It would have been so funny if Frankenstein went "they must be cosplayers" instead of realising the two were nobles.

- Regis taking all the initiative shows how it's his roadtrip coming of age journey which is pretty clever. Also Seira's just like that but still.

- Shinwoo stop exercising in class bro. Do not flex on the rest of us this is so rude 😭😭😭

- Regis confidently saying he's a noble in class to humans he doesn't plan on mind controlling... Baby boy why are you so dumb? How is this hiding your identity??? And Seira just lets him,,, good for her.

Chapter 100 - Ah yes their elegance boner at seeing Raizel... nobles are so fucking weird.

- M-21 thinking he won't get any information because of his time at the Union and thus being surprised at how open Frankenstein is is actually really sweet. Like yeah I still think Frankenstein is an unethical and questionable person but he is kind to most humans (werewolves and nobles can go fuck themselves I guess lmao).

Chapter 101 - The second hand embarrassment I felt when M-21 called the two noblesse... how do I even consume content?

- Yeah 100% most union members don't know the difference between nobles and vampires. I bet they'd classify jiangshi as either mutants or werewolves. Or to be more specific, that would be the classification given to low leveled members. On one hand I think it's dumb that the Union gives members twisted information because how would they even use it? But on the other hand it makes sense since it prevents said members from seeking nobles for help. After all, if they believe even the 'noblesse' are vampires that drink blood, than obviously they won't see them as possible escape routes.

- 'Noblesse only applies to one person'. Yeah because Rai's brother is fucking dead. And so is whoever was his predecessor/parent.

Chapter 102 - Those bullies got backup so fucking fast like Shinwoo literally just asked Regis and Seira if they were okay then boom! They're back.

Chapter 103- Regis going ??? essentially when Shinwoo tells him to take care of Seira is so funny like yes ofc he's confused she's literally a clan leader + noble females aren't physically weaker + noble women work out just like the men.

- Rude, Regis. You can't just ask someone why they're mingling among humans. You're doing that too. Who doesn't mingle among humans smh. Even cats and pigeons mingle with us.

Chapter 105 - Love how everyone else in the household is so sick of ramyeon like Raizel stop please you're being selfish.

Chapter 106 - Frankenstein is the definition of the 'right in front of my salad?' meme at Regis and M-21 arguing at the dinner table. Then there's Seira and Raizel just waiting for the noodles to get soggy so he can't even eat. Wish Urokai could see him getting tortured like this.

- The soldier rejecting backup because he knows the enemy is the Union hurts my heart. Wanting to prevent casualties... iwi

Chapter 107 - Shark how tf do you not know about South Korea? That's one of the asian countries people actually know about. I guess maybe it's because this is from around a decade back? K-pop is more recent and made the country more visible I guess.

- Ah yes Takeo. Forever known as "the first time I read Noblesse and he appeared I thought he was Marie's sister since they had the same hairstyle". Like I thought that before even learning about the Aris Taivra fiasco. My power 😔

- Oh don't worry M-21, Frankenstein stopped experimenting on people 830 years ago. You know, as one does.

Chapter 108 - Shark has like no general knowledge. Geography? History? Tf is that I guess.

- Tao saying they're the worst possible people for the job is so funny like yeah he's right. "All we do is massacre people in warzones why are we in Seoul?"

- The rest of the squad complain or are confused about the peace meanwhile Takeo is vibing. He's the normal guy TM of the group.

- Ah yes noble lore. If you take canon at face value than the fact that nobles were around when humans first emerged and there being about 2-3 clan leaders before the current generation means you can estimate their lifespan. Ofc it differs wildly depending on how you interpret the 'first humans' part. I'll assume there were 3 generations before the current generation (mvp lord being the third generation) and won't be adding the current generation since a 0.5-2k years is kinda meaningless. I'll also be assuming that mvp lord entered eternal sleep at around the same age as his predecessors and that he would have died soon from old age anyway (since canonically they do have limited lifespans). If we assume it's just the first human ancestors (7 million years ago) than the average pureblood lifespan is 2.33 million years. If we assume it's when homo sapiens started to emerge (300k years ago) than it's 100k years. If it's about modern humans (130k years ago) than it's 43.3k years. Regardless I'll ignore it since my hcs are that nobles are effectively immortal unless killed and that the 2-3 clan leaders is a misconception due to a mix of Gechutel just straight up lying, because there are clans that have had fewer clan leaders, because I have nobles settling on Lukedonia only 30k years ago, and because Gechutel is factoring in his own age of 10.2k so it's more like 'There have been 2-3 Ru clan leaders before the Ru clan leader 10k years ago since after we settled in Lukedonia'. There's also the possibility that nobles didn't have lords or clan leaders until a few thousand years ago in canon but the species has existed for much longer.

- 'Nobles are individualistic... They don't despise humans but don't love them either.' Humans w/ ants. Now if the ants were capable of speaking with us it'd be exactly the same situation.

Chapter 109 - "What were they researching here?" Since when does the Union research anything aside from human modifications Kranz? Why do you even need to ask? More seriously this means that the Union doesn't actually only do human experimentation and weapons lmao. The other shit just isn't relevant I guess. It's a shame, I'd have loved to see how a lab focused on like, fixing up polluted waters, would be fit into the story.

- The fact that Tao beat Jake up is never mentioned enough. Also confirms that Jake was lying out of his ass about being the strongest.

- Marie being the weakest assassination squad member is interesting like I know why Crombel doesn't need bodyguards as the reader but you'd think the Union would be suspicious of him not having a stronger bodyguard. Also I still can't believe the Union doesn't bother learning who the members are aside from the ones Crombel tells them about like. Bro???

- Shark calling Takeo uptight is hilarious because the guy literally just shot the falling ceiling light which is the opposite of uptight. Either he was preventing them from getting hurt/being caught or he wanted that to happen considering the fact that he shot it and it shattered. And then he just goes back to leaning against the wall. Takeo please 🤣

Chapter 110 - And Shinwoo's still staying over at Ikhans place. Wonder when he's gonna move back. I really love their dynamic like yeah I beg my sister to get me food all the time too. Also love the apron and skeleton hoodie.

- Shinwoo went through the five stages of grief pretty quick huh? Like yeah it's his own misunderstanding that Ikhan is dating someone but still. Homophobia is annoying as always though.

Chapter 111 - Suyi paying for their food is so sweet of her and also I relate so much like yeah mood that's me and no I don't want to be paid back.

- Takeo,,, the fact that he just hands his wallet over because he doesn't like violence and doesn't want to beat them up,,, my heart. Otoh... how did he even get cornered in an dark shady alleyway lmao.

- Aris managing to make herself look like a teenager as Taivra is interesting since Takeo says he wants her to be able to go to school like Yuna and Shinwoo when he's treating them. I guess she looks younger without makeup.

- Takeo just straight up pointing his gun at Shark in public because he mentioned Taivra... anger issues much? I understand why but taking your gun out is an overreaction.

[crystalirises]

Waiting in the Wings

Hello! So this was an idea given to me by an anon recently. If the anon who sent that ask sees this, I’m so sorry if this wasn’t what you wanted as I decided to connect this story to a previous one-shot I made but with the song “Nothing Left to Lose” instead. I might do the reprise at a later time.

So hope you guys like this...

“Guess we all are born with parts to play.”

But was he really? He curled in on himself, his knees held closely to his chest as tears cascaded down his cheeks. The distant glimmering lights of New L’Manburg were but twinkling stars in the darkness, heavenly beings that were not meant for outcasts like him. He was nothing. He’d come to terms with that. He was nothing. The only role he ever had the pleasure to play was being the lunatic’s general’s son.

“Some of us are stars, and some are just in the way.”

He’d fought tooth and nail for his beloved country. He has his fair share of scars brought about by a senseless war for freedom. He’d done everything he could to make his father proud. When the day of independence came, his father had barely glanced at him. No. It was always Tommy or Tubbo. Never him. Heaven forbid his father even spare a single ounce of attention towards his real son.

“I know I was meant for glory.” His hand reached towards those radiant and far-off beams, towards a country meant for him. His father had promised him the world, holding him in his warm hold as they watched the sun set in the distance. But what did his father do? He gave it to Tommy, then he gave it to Tubbo. Wilbur was never good at making promises, was he? “But that's never what my story brings.”

“And yet I keep on waiting...”

“When you have the passion and the drive.”

When his father was casted away an exile that should have an exile, he dedicated himself to taking down the very tyrant that dared to enter his country. He poured his soul into his book, torn at his frayed morality for the sake of a father who never wanted him. He had written every weakness, every loophole he could see... anything for his father. He wrote and wrote and wrote until his hands bled, blood smearing across the pristine pages.

“You expect your moment center stage to arrive.”

His father hadn’t received his return as warmly as he had hoped. He chalked it up to stress, that his father couldn’t afford to be weak at a time where they needed to be strong. He held onto that small thread of hope, waiting for their day of victory... when his father would finally pull him back into his embrace. When his father stepped down as president, he waited for his name to be called. He waited. Nothing. He got nothing. Not even a hug. Not even a smile. Not even a glance. As if he... as if he was nothing.

“I show up with heart a blazing.” His heart burned and ached with the memories, of false vows he’d told himself to keep from having a mental breakdown. Joy coursed through his veins the moment he escaped the man’s grasp. He ran to Pogtopia. He ran towards his father. Towards his home. How could he have known that all he’d receive was a cold and empty glare? “Ready to achieve amazing things.”

“But I'm left waiting in the wings...”

“I hear my cue...”

Schlatt had given him everything, offered him the world if he swore to be loyal.

“And yet I'm kept there, waiting...”

But Schlatt was not his father.

“Know what to do...”

He had a life in Manburg. A house. A position. A father figure. He was valued.

“And still I stand there, waiting...”

But Schlatt didn’t really care about him.

“It's always someone else who sings...”

Schlatt wanted Tubbo. Always Tubbo or Tommy. Never him. It was never him.

“While I'm left waiting in the wings...”

“And so I keep on keeping on.”

Schlatt was nothing but a dictator, a man who held his dying country at the palm of his hands. Wilbur was nothing but a general, a man lost to war that his own son refuses to think he could have ever done anything for their country once it was free. Two men who were nothing but charlatans, with their silver tongues of poison and lead. Fundy was nothing but a fool to have fallen for their tricks.

“My chances come and then I blink and they're gone.”

He worked for the two of them, thrown himself at their feet in hopes of gaining their love and affection. They both used him. One offered him a warm and loving hand to hold, not knowing that the hand would leave him the moment he stumbled and fell. Leaving him to fall into the infinite abyss. The other offered him a delectable red apple to feed and feast upon, not knowing that the core was rotten and filled with writhing maggots. Leaving him to choke as he’s eaten alive from the inside.

“Always overlooked unfairly.” No one saw him. Nobody ever saw him. He felt invisible, like he was fading from the memories of those he once called friend and family. Even his own damn fiancé pretended he didn’t exist. But did he complain? No. No, of course not. He played the fool, played the court jester that everyone could laugh, point, and jeer at. “While pretending that it barely stings.”

“But it stings, yes it stings...”

His practiced smile was gone, shattered along with the mask he had donned.

“And I'll shed no tears...”

With his jacket sleeve, he brushed his tears away. Enough was enough.

“I'll only keep on waiting...”

But he didn’t want to keep waiting...

“If no one cheers...”

He’ll make them see him.

“Well, I can keep on waiting...”

No. He doesn’t want to wait anymore.

“Who cares how loud...”

He’ll burn it all to the fucking ground. He’ll stand tall upon the ashes of a nation that never cared for him.

“The silence rings...”

He’ll scream and scream and scream until his throat is red and burns with blood. He’ll make them hear him.

“You'll find me waiting in the wings...”

He’s stepping back into the narrative.

And this time?

He’ll make them all burn.

~~~~~~~~~

So... yeah. I still want Feral!Fundy because he deserves to go a little crazy... as a treat. So does Tommy because the current Tommy arc is killing me.

Hope you guys like this, bye bye!

(And if I repost this at a later time pls forgive me as I am on a temporary exile from the Fundy tag I can’t believe I’m having my own exile arc smh)

[kinktae]

How dare you bitchin!jungkook ?! HOW DARE YOU ?!

very NOT spoiler free bitchin’ 8 asks under the cut

Y/N SUPPORT GROUP

deliciouslydisturbed365 said: I just read chapter 8 and holy fuck I’m nauseous. Poor Y/N 😭

queen-emon said: What the literal FUCK man, I just read Bitchin 08 and like im so broken. I never ever consider Y/n and I to be the same person but this time I felt like we were the same person both getting our hearts crushed by the man we loved so dearly. I AM NOT OKAY WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO ME! THIS IS SO NOT GROOVY :(

Anonymous said: Me🤝y/n Repressing our emotions

madjammil said: I am legit crying. Poor y/n! I cannot believe Jungkook slept with Kiri! My heart is broken. I thought these two were finally getting together and he goes and does this dumb shit! Smh. Aside from that, your writing was amazing as always! I love this series so much!

YARA BULLY JK PETITIONERS

Anonymous said: omg i can’t believe jungkook is rly going to get his dickie chopped off 😍😍😍 deserve! can’t wait until yara finds out

Anonymous said: Ignore jk, y/n!!! Gosh she deserve so much better than a fboi who only cares about how he feels physically!! Ahole to the max and I need her to slap him! Yara can join along the slapping game!! But srsly he needs to learn his words alone can’t mend this and I hope y/n doesn’t give in so easily cuz he deserves cold shoulders from her for a very long time and don’t just rely on charms to get his way. Ik he was trouble from the start 😔 y/n dear don’t worry you deserve better

casualxexistence said: So 👉👈 um like is there like ANy chance that we get to see our baby yara’s reaction to this 🥺🥺🥺👼 bc um well I would kinda love to see her hand both jk and kiri there asses bc they aren’t gonna hAVE ANY AFTER SHE FINISHES WITH THEM RIP

Anonymous said: dude, what if y/n hooks up with tae and starts beef between jk and him while yara bitch slaps kiri….. dude bitchin’ has such good drama theories wtf literally anything is possible at this point

Anonymous said: if yara doesn’t punch kook can I punch him? Not as the oc I meant like me BECAUSE WHAT THE FUCK

forvever-ddaeng said: I keep rereading this last part like it’s somehow gonna change or it won’t make me sad the more I read it but it’s having the opposite effect and now I want Yara to beat Jungkook’s ass smh

Anonymous said: WTFFFFFFF YARA GONNA HUNT DOWN AND KICK JUNGKOOK ASS FOR HURTING HER BABY

JUNGKOOK ANTIS:

Anonymous said: what the fuck is wrong with bitchin’!jungkook does he think with his dick i wanna kick his ass

Anonymous said: why jungkook would do something like that if he likes y/n? i would be so mad at him too like… isn’t that kind of cheating? he didn’t say if he was back together with his ex but he slept with her so that must mean something, she probably thinks it means something. he was really stupid 

omgtaehyungsmullett said: i know jungkook fucking with me, dammit 😡

Anonymous said: I DONT UNDERSTAND WHY WOULD JUNGKOOK DO THAT WHY

ausjeons said: Jungkook what the fuck!!! I could slap you silly after reading part 8 😪😩

Anonymous said: Team make jk suffer for awhile and then be able to patch things up with the oc 🤝

Anonymous said: I read ch8 last night and this weighed heavily on my mind all day like why is jk such a hoe? Like how could he just sleep with Kiri just like that. I think these children are very confuzzled with their feelings. After he slept with Kiri, did he rush to y/n bc he knew this was the end of their “relationship”? One last passionate banger goodbye 😟 my 💔 broken heart

Anonymous said: I ain’t even sad. I’m full on rage mode. WHO TF GAVE JK THE AUDACITY , THE ABSOLUTE BRAWN TO STICK HIS DICK IN KIRI AND THEN , NOT EVEN A FULL DAY LATER ( cuz yk that would be farrr too gracious ) WITHOUT A WARNING , WITHOUT A FRICKING GOOD MORNING EVEN , GOES TO FUCK OC AND THINKS THAT’S OKAY???? Good to know OC and whatever his relationship was with her was worth less than a nut😒

Anonymous said: i’m actually sad… like wow. i really expected him to go back, i really did. but even though i knew it’d happen, it still hurt, y’know? i think that made it worse; knowing that he’d go back to her in the end… shit’s fucked up, really. great job writing it. i could literally feel the emotion from this one.

Anonymous said: Bitchin ch 8…..oh wow the smut was so nice and fluffy but wtf JJK messed up big time. Honestly I don’t think he deserves oc after this. She deserves someone who isn’t so unsure of his feelings that it takes getting back together with and sleeping with someone else to realise it. If he really liked her, he wouldn’t have slept with Kiri.

Anonymous said: “ArE YOu MAd?” Srsly what brand of clown juice is Bitchin JJK drinking?

Anonymous said: TAE AND Y/N HOES BRO ENTER THE NEW SHIP FUCK JK

cchristinnaa said: Jk really did yn like a pocket pussy huh

Anonymous said: HOW COULD JUNGKOOK OH MY GOOODDDDDDDDDDD literally men aint SHIT….. the part where y/n said you got what you wanted from me🥺🥺🥺🥺 I FELT THAT ugh i love the angst

Anonymous said: Hope jk dieS from jealousy next ch. And regrets it skdhdhd :( jk. Hope they get their sht 2gether soon or im gon 😷😖😭

diortae said: me: *explaining to bitchin 8 jk why he’s a dick for calling Y/N his “pretty girl” immediately after fucking her raw the morning after he slept with his ex* 

jk: well, you know what they say. hindsight is 20/20 

me: KINDA SEEMS LIKE REGULAR SIGHT SHOULD HAVE CAUGHT THAT ONE

Anonymous said: JUNGKOOK IS ABOUT TO MEET THESE FISTS UP CLOSE THATS ON GOD THAT DUMBASS LIMP DICK BITCH REALLY FUCKED UP

Anonymous said: I HATE JJK HES AN ASS FOR GG DOWN ON 2WOMEN HE CAN JUS F HIMSELF RN

Anonymous said: JUNGKOOK IS GONNA GET HIS ASS BEATEN UGHSHHSKDHXJSJ MOTHERFUCKER WHAT? WHAT??? THIS BITCH IS A RIDE OR DIE AND UR GOING AFTER FAKEASS KIRI REALLY? FOR REAL I THOUGHT UOU WERE BETTER THAN THIS BUT NO ALL MEN DO IS LIE LIE LIE

Anonymous said: the way i closed the tumblr app when i saw jungkook saying “kiri came over last night”

Anonymous said: alright we beating jk’s ass @ noon 😤

Anonymous said: WHY WOULD JUNGKOOK DO THAT TO OC LIKE WHAT I AGREE WITH OC HE USED HER AND THAT MAKES ME 😡😡😡😡😡

Anonymous said: BITCHIN PART 8 WTFGGGG MY HEART Do be Hurting . i’m going to beat jungkook up !!!!

betysotelo18 said: It’s been a few minutes since I read part 8 and I can’t stop thinking about what could happen next… the meanwhile F U jeon Jungkook, you did wrong

Anonymous said: NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!! I CANT 😭 WHAT SHOULD I DO WITH THIS CHAPTER HUUUU JUNGKOOK WTFF BRO…….. my heart is breaking for them. Why can’t they just date already wkxbdbbdjdjdjdjdjdj this is onky misunderstanding right? and thankyou for the new chapter sis hihuhihih💕💕

Anonymous said: im shocked i dunno who i hate more rn you or jungkook. my heart is literally SHATTERED he better fix this or else im traveling to the 80s just to kick his ass 😭🤬

Anonymous said: never want to punch jungkook in the face like i wanna do right now

Anonymous said: JUNGKOOK WHAT THE FUUUUUUUUCK 🤬 for the love of god rose why do u did that to me i wanna die

Anonymous said: ROSE WTF WAS THAT MAN !!! my heart it hurts and like wtf jungpuke!! Why would he do that to reader !! why would he sleep with kiri and then sleep with reader ?!? Like go siekkeksjdjejjejdbehhe i wish i can put in reaction pictures in here

CUTIE PIES

Anonymous said: Omggg thank you so so much for this chapter, for the whole fic. Thank you for sharing it with us. You are a great writter. Seriously! I just love how every chapter is so intense. Not only the smut is amazing but every detail, every action, the whole plot, all of the dialogues. I actually cried at the end I love how I can really feel everything. All the emotions. Ah and they’re so cute!!! But why was JK so weak? Even if that’s what you wanted since the beginning… I thought- BOY WTF??? :’( But seriously this is the type of thing I love, I am WEAK for this. The slow burn, the oblivious idiots that love each other but keep suffering thing. And you write it so well. Your mind!!! Your talent!!! I love it. Thank you, for real ♥♥♥ I’m antecipating the next chapter, but already sad that it’s almost ending :((( I’m gonna miss this a lot. Anyways, take your time, baby. And have a nice day! ♥♥♥ (Sorry for bad english btw)

tinievmin said: ROSE. IM IN PAIN. I FELT THE BREAKUP BETWEEN YN AND JUNGKOOK. IM SO SADDD. But not related to the plot, your writing is ART. You always make it flow so well aND WOW!!! I don’t have enough words to express how much I love your works

AND FINALLY, AN INTELLECTUAL

Anonymous said: kiri is a bitch i said what i said

[mytangledthoughts]

Tell me WHY do I keep dating men? I'm bi, I could literally just date a woman but nO my stupid brain tends to lean towards mEN and then I end up getting hurt because men suck and somehow have mommy issues 90% of the time smh

There was a time when I didn't give a flying fuck about dudes and I didn't stay up all night wondering if I was about to get my heart shattered lmao

[trashmoutheds]

Anything for You: Part Nine

Pairing(s): Richie Tozier x Eddie Kaspbrak, Beverly Marsh x Ben Hanscom, Bill Denbrough x Stan Uris

Warnings: swearing, mentions of death, hospital, this chapter in general (seriously, it’s a crap fest)

Word Count: 1.4 k

Part 9 / ?

a/n: this chapter was actually supposed to be happy, idk where everything went so wrong - also, try to stay up later next time, evie; i don’t work around your foreign clock smh

last part | masterlist

-

16 hours.

That’s how long Richie Tozier had been emitted in the hospital. During these long, agonizing hours, he had flatlined twice - both of these times included Eddie vomiting violently in a public restroom stall with one of the losers rubbing his back comfortingly.

Now, Eddie’s head laid on Ben’s knee. One of Hanscom’s hands rested on Eddie’s shoulder, the other on Beverly’s thigh as she sat curled into his side. Eddie was freshly cleaned, which offered him little comfort. But, he was incredibly thankful to Mike, who had sat him on the sink of the men’s bathroom and scrubbed the blood from his skin with wet paper towels.

Mike currently sat with his arms around both Stan and Bill, Bill was crying silently against his shoulder and Stan felt entirely numb. Bill and Stan’s fingers were entangled across Mike’s legs, Stan drawing small circles in Bill’s skin with his thumb. Crowds moved through the waiting room feverishly, agitating the losers to no end.

“Do you think I can see him soon?” Eddie mumbled, exhausted and depressed.

Ben’s hand went up to Eddie’s hair, “I hope so, buddy.”

None of them bother to mention how Eddie said “I” and not “we”, although they were all dying to see him. Eddie’s eyes stung as if he needed to cry, but he was certain that he had already shed all of the water from his body.

“I’m so scared,” admitted Eddie, as if the others didn’t already know, “If he dies-”

“Don’t say that.” Stan interrupted sternly, lifting his head to look over at Eddie.

His serious tone was almost angry, and it made Eddie flinch. Eddie turned his neck, pressing his face into Ben’s knee.

“He won’t die, Eddie.” Mike’s voice was gentle and calming, “He would never leave you like that.”

They fell back into silence, and somehow it was more comfortable. Eddie allowed his eyes to flutter shut, his extreme sleep deprivation weighing heavily. He found that, if he really focused, the hand running through his hair felt almost like Richie’s. His grasp on Ben’s leg tightened, as it would on Richie’s leg.

“I love you, Rich,” Eddie whispered, too deep in his own thoughts to notice Ben’s shaky breath and shattering heart.

Eddie had never felt more drained in his life, his mind slowly beginning to drift in and out of consciousness. His heart rate slowed, beating in a light rhythm against his eardrums in the most soothing way. Behind closed eyelids, he could still see the flickering overhead light looming over the group - the one that had been driving Stan to insanity since they sat down.

The general hum of workers, patients, and various other background noises all started to tie together, creating a range of sounds that nearly soothed Eddie. He wasn’t alone, he could hear it within the room, and feel it through the hand weaved in his locks. He wasn’t  - and, yet, he was. Any place without Trashmouth Tozier was lonely, he could brighten every room with one goofy smile.

“For Richard Tozier,” A booming voice spoke, startling all of the losers.

The man behind the voice stepped into view, clad with a long white coat and thin-rimmed glasses. Suddenly wiped of all sleepiness, Eddie shot up. The others followed suit, but at a slower pace. squeezed together tightly. Eddie looked up at the man hopefully, his hands He was practically bouncing with anticipation as the doctor’s face held an amicable smile.

“Mister Tozier is currently stable,” The doctor paused as Beverly let out a sigh of relief that closely resembled a laugh, “You all may visit him, but I suggest just one or two of you at a time.”

Eddie’s hands went up to his face and he could’ve swore he was going to start crying again. Mike’s strong hand landed on Eddie’s shoulder blade as his body began to shake. But, he was not crying, he was laughing.

Laughing for the missed puns, inappropriate jokes, and obnoxious karaoke nights - he was making up for lost time. Eddie’s face flushed with a sudden feeling of calm. Mike gave him a push forward, nodding at the doctor.

“He’s going first.” explained Mike, grinning at Eddie, “Stay in there as long as you want.”

“Yeah, there’s no rush.” Stan added, Bill nodding along with his words.

Beverly let out a squeal, throwing her arms around Eddie’s neck and pressing a kiss to his cheek, “Go!” She demanded cheerfully, pushing herself away from his body quickly.

Eddie followed the doctor down the long hall, weaving through nurses and carts full of cleaning supplies. He grew more and more anxious with every step,  knowing that Richie could be behind any of the numerous doors they passed. Yet, he couldn’t seem to contain his excitement. 

Finally stopping, the doctor turned to Eddie with a serious look that made the boy’s stomach churn.

“Richard was still asleep when I left, but he could be up any time now. He’s very sensitive, so be thoughtful when you touch him. The lacerations on his wrist will definitely scar, but try not to let him see them too much now - we don’t want him to panic or anything.”

Eddie nodded, listening carefully to the instructions. His heart hammered against his ribcage as his hand came into contact with the cold metal handle. Letting himself in, a deep frown formed on his face at the sight.

Richie lay unconscious, his curls askew. Tubes stuck out of his milky flesh, making Eddie extremely uncomfortable - he didn’t want them there. But, Richie still managed to take Eddie’s breath away.

His lips were parted, and chapped, but just looking at them made Eddie’s own lips tingle as the familiar sensation filled his body. Richie was still pale, but had gained a small amount of color back in his cheeks. 

“Hey, Rich,” Eddie spoke gingerly, approaching the bed, “I don’t know if you can hear me, but I’m so glad you’re okay-” Eddie’s fingers twisted one of Richie’s dark locks, “-I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He gently lowered himself onto the edge of the bed, brushing his lips on the scar running along Richie’s cheekbone. His fingers entangled themselves with Richie’s limp ones, and he couldn’t help but to smile when he felt how warm Richie was.

He placed a hand on Richie’s chest, heart swelling as he felt it rise and fall.

Eddie’s eyes fell onto the thick bandage wrapped around Richie’s forearm. He itched to see what lay underneath, although Bev assured him numerous times he didn’t want to know.  

“I know you promised you’d do anything for me, but please don’t get yourself hurt again. I don’t care what Bowers said about me, or my mom - I only care about you.”

Eddie continued to talk, unaware if Richie could actually hear him. He spoke as if the boy was awake, and conversing back with him. 

Eddie’s head laid on the hard mattress, words falling from his lips easily. He was used to participating in one-sided conversations with Richie, just the feeling of the older boy’s hand in his was enough to make him feel whole again.

He was so caught up in the warm feeling spreading throughout his body, he hadn’t realized the heart rate machine had fallen still and was letting out a loud screech. Eddie only noticed as the nurses dragged him out of the room and multiple doctors surrounded Richie’s body.

Eddie’s screams caught the attention of everyone, they all looked at him sympathetically. His body had re-hydrated itself, he found, as tears streamed steadily down his cheeks. 

A nurse stood in front of him, her hands resting on his shoulder as she tried to calm down. He couldn’t hear her - he couldn’t hear anything. His entire body tingled, as if he’d been stabbed with millions of tiny needles.

Eddie continued to panic until his body hit the tile floor with a ‘thump’. 

–

{tag list: @stanleyurisisalive @eddiekaspbraks-inhaler @emrysaaryn @strawberry-cake456 @richietoaster @the-losers-law @eddierichietozier @whytholikeugggh @wiinchesterlogic @of-outerspace @im-not-psychotic @bitozier @exceededexpectations @eddie-kaspjack @eddies-inhaler @woahtherebuddyfriend @smol-and-annoying @trashmouth-smashmouth @cupcakeatl @eddiekaspbraklovesboys @yepitsmuffinman @prettyblossoms @smiley-riley-pokipine @couldbemimi @virgay @decaffeinatedpostmoon @edward-kaspbrak  @derrydays @adventure-time @just-an-akward-fangirl @lovely-chaotic-goddess @sakurabun203 @thatgazebobullshit @imdefinitelynotaserialkiller @sunflowersandhoneybees @freddyxbonnieshipper459 @lemonadeandrice @hazelgracewatersaugusts @help-i-has-no-life @asdfghjkl-kmp @alrightbluer @sunflowersirius @thestanurisshow @plastiicpower @the-girl-who-loves-frogs @sassyclassysatan @11roses @bluedays13 @richiietozierr @darkartisantree @richie-n-eds @trashmouthreddie @lgbtrashmouth @sweetbadheart @supermarket-flower-love @simply-outtatime @serendipity-y @rowanshandsomecadre} 

[bangbangbangtanbys]

prince!namjoon

basically my thoughts on prince kim namjoon

namjoon is a scholarly prince, always reading reading reading and has a stack of books by his nightstand or on the ground

every morning he nearly trips over the encyclopedia set of philosophy on the ground next to his bed

gets to lessons right on time but they always go overtime bc he wants to learn more about the world

annoys his tutors by asking too many questions, so they give him their supplies and help guide him to other resources

he’s just prolonging his studies bc he doesn’t want to attend dance lessons, where his clumsy feet always get the best of him

will read books and books about dancing late at night but for some reason they don’t translate to his body

hates horseback riding

talks to the castle staff with respect and proper honorifics

is on his parent’s court of advisors, who treat him just the same even though he’s the youngest there

he likes going to public events and is usually called upon for a speech

very diplomatic and proper, some of the younger castle staff members are scared of him because of his height and intelligence so when someone accidentally spills tea on him, they think they’re in for a loud reprimanding but nO he apologizes too and helps clean it up, no yelling involved

he’s always tripping and breaking or tearing something in the castle

last week it was a page from his history book (he shed a tear at that), he chipped a tea cup and shattered another, and ripped a hole in a new blouse

he’d prefer wearing basic, plain clothes, but his mother’s always persuading him to wear clothes imported from various countries

but he’s too lanky and tall and so his clothes always need to be hemmed

and that’s how he knows you!! bc your one of the seamstresses in the castle

you’re quick and precise with a needle and thread and you always find yourself repairing his shirts when there’s snags or holes and patching his pants when they’re ripped

bc on more than one occasion, this boy may or may not have ripped his trousers because they’re just too short on him

like the hemline is wayyyy above his ankles and they’re so short but yet they fit him so well up top (tall ppl problems smh)

and so when he’s changed out of his ripped clothes, he personally takes them down to the seamstresses’ room down by the lower levels

he’ll greet all the elder women and men before spotting you at your workbench sewing the buttons he popped in his navy blouse from yesterday (that happened when he tugged his collar a bit too hard when he was dancing with one of the other women during his lessons, hEY it gets steamy dancing for hours;) )

namjoon will watch you work on the buttons in silence till you finish and look at your handiwork, him staring at you with heart eyes grinning from ear to ear with dimples and all

you work on his pants as he explains what happened this time and you keep quiet as he rambles on about the newest thing he learned in his lessons or what new book he stayed up reading

he’ll even bring you the book he’s on and read you passages as you sew and explain anything you don’t understand, sometimes leaving you with the book so that there’s always a reason to come back, not that tearing his clothes is enough anyways

heck, he’ll even try to show you how to dance a waltz, but with his terrible footing and the fact you don’t even know what a waltz is from swaying back and forth, you both fall over with you on top of his chest and your lips dangerously clOSE TO HIS

but you both laugh it off and never speak of that time ever again

he’ll try to teach you other languages from time to time, but you prefer listening to him speak english or japanese or chinese bc his intelligence is so sexy and his vOICE sends chills up your spine

in a way, he tutors you about the rest of the world, teaching you what he knows and also confiding in you bc 1) he trusts you and you trust him and 2) you can literally count how many times he’s split his pants so nothing else is embarrassing or awkward anymore except the romantic tension between you two

bc you won’t admit it to anyone but you really look forward to when namjoon comes and visits with a torn piece of clothing and basically explains how the world came to be or tells you the history of the kingdom

you stay up thinking about how his eyes light up when he tells you his analysis about his newest novel or how he gets pouty when solving riddle books or how his voice sounds when humming music lyrics and melodies he’s just ad-libbed on the fly

if you look tired, he will lecture you on the importance of your health and sleep and you tease him right back about staying up late and reading

you’re his main seamstress and so you always know what blouses and shirts and pants look good on him and what sizes he is and what needs to be fixed to look right on his body

you’re basically giving yourself heart attacks everyday bc namjoon looks great in everything (unless he tries to dress himself in the rare occasion he does, which works out sometimes)

on the days of balls and special events, you proceed to dig yourself a deeper grave by making namjoon wear his formal royal attire bearing his family crest and everything

his hair’s perfect, his jacket fits him well, his shoes are polished, his shirt’s crisp and clean, his family’s crest is shining, he looks exactly like the picture perfect crown prince kim namjoon bc he is exactly that!!

which makes your crush on him just as deep as that grave bc you know you don’t have a chance with being with the crown prince

but namjoon is intelligent, considerate, sweet, and everything your heart desires and more and he sees you for you and not just as some staff member in the castle he lives in

during one of the balls, you sneak in with one of your sunbaes in royal attire and you notice how sophisticated and poised namjoon looks, how regal and intimidating he is with his lips drawn into a thin line until he laughs at something a visiting princess says

you watch from afar as he dances with other visiting royals, accidentally missing a step and squeaking his shoes on top of his partner’s feet

which elicits a laugh from some elderly women as they call it a wakeup call and a breath of fresh air at a stuffy/proper ball and also some yelps and hmpfs in distaste from princesses at the misstep

one princess even stops dancing with namjoon and he awkwardly walks back to the outskirts of the dance floor

it makes your heart melt until you lock eyes with him and his lips become that dimpled, adoring smile with the crescent eyes and the eye crinkles and then he’s standing in front of you, asking if you’ll dance with him

you two begin to dance and you’re so nervous, you step on his feet right after he’s accidentally stepped on yours and you both begin laughing until you remember that you’re both at a public event

the bubble of you two is broken by reality when namjoon is swept away by another princess for a dance, and then another until he’s called to by parents and after that you lose him

the night ends and you go back to the work room and change into your normal clothes, returning the clothes to the laundry when you hear someone knock on the door

namjoon sheepishly pokes his head in and enters, his white shirt from the ball in his hand and a small book in the other

he shows you the tear in the front and you decided to fix it up, walking over to your bench and pulling out the thread and needle

and like normal, namjoon starts talking but after the first couple stitches you register that he’s reading a passage from what sounds like a law book? or a history book?

he’s basically describing how one of his ancestors changed the laws of marriage and banned the rule saying royals can only marry royals and emphasized how anyone within the royal bloodline should court and marry whoever they choose

and then he ends this whole speech with a “may I, kim namjoon, court you, (l/n) (y/n)?” and you look from your needlework and see him on one knee

your silence and disbelief confuses him for a moment until you shout a loud “YES” and tackle him with a hug

you both agree to keep your courtship on the down low, only your family and his knowing of your relationship

the other seamstresses highkey ship you from the very start and speculate in hushed whispers

pda around the castle usually never happens as someone is always watching but he does give you a kiss on the cheek from time to time

when he leaves on visits to other kingdoms, he leaves you with another novel but there’s scraps of papers shoved inside confessing his undying love for you and how he misses you

you still repair his clothes and choose his outfits for every event, except this time, getting dressed takes a little bit longer (if you know what I’m sayin;) )

bets are called and talks between your family and his are arranged and you two definitely stand the test of time, eventually getting married after two years of a quiet relationship and three years of being in the public eye to ease your appearance into the open

even after five years of being together, you can’t deny the butterflies in your stomach and how your heart swells at just the thought of namjoon and there’s less holes and tears in his clothes, but slip ups still happen

and only after all these years of being together does namjoon tell you that he’d purposely tear his shirts and rip his pants to spend time with you 

thank you for reading! xo

[un-believeable]

my first true heart break

It was St. Patrick's Day, I had skipped school to enjoy the day in the city with my friends and later that night I received a text that shattered my heart into a million pieces.

"My father passed today.” Meaning my uncle was finally no longer suffering. Those four tiny words caused my body to curl into a little ball and repeatedly ask Him, “why?”

It was a day that everyone knew was going to come sooner or later, but we all wanted it to be later. Way later. Bad things have happened to me in my life before but nothing seemed as horrible as this. There's a saying that goes "the good die young, because God needs them.” But why does God need MY uncle when hundreds of people need him HERE? Thought it was kind of selfish if you asked me, smh.

I went through the first two of the five stages of grief immediately.

Stage one: Denial.

This stage went rather quick, I’d say. About five hours. I laid in my room, staring at the ceiling in the dark. No tears, no emotion. I remember I was watching a YouTube video on my phone when the notification came through. I saw who it came from and saw the words “passed away.” and immediately deleted the message. I thought that if i pretended to not get the text, it wouldn’t be true right?  I just kept saying, this can't be true. He did no wrong in his life, he can't be taken so quick.

Stage 2: Anger

This took place the morning after. I went to school, and didn't say one word. No one knew except me and my cousin. Multiple times throughout the day I was asked what was wrong and why I looked so furious. I never been the one to speak about my feelings out loud. And I've never dealt with a death that hit me so hard, so I didn't know how to handle it. It was 6th period, college marketing,my favorite class of the day. It was the best class of my senior year, all I did was laugh in that class. Not that day. I didn’t do any of my work or eve give my teacher snarky comments. I made it 15 minutes into class before I broke out in hysterical tears.

I've kind of skipped the bargaining and depression stage. Of course, I was heartbroken and still am, but that's not what he would've wanted me to feel. I just have to constantly remind myself that he's okay and no longer suffering. As for the last step, acceptance, I don't think anyone will ever reach that. I definitely won't. That stage is a myth, you don't accept it, it just starts hurting a little less with time.

We’re approaching the two year anniversary and I still can’t believe it. I can’t believe I lost the only father figure I’ve ever known. I can’t believe it’s bee two years, it still hurts as if I found out yesterday.

People die everyday, I just never thought it’d affect me personally. My uncle was one of the greatest men to walk this earth. Everyone says that but I truly mean it in every possible way. (So many people showed up to his wake that all the chairs were taken, room was overflown & some couldn't even get into the room). He was genuine, did good for the world and he was always positive. He’d get very upset if you said you couldn't do something, he always wanted you to believe in yourself. He told the cheesiest jokes, but would constantly have EVERYONE unable to breathe from laughing to hard. My favorite characteristic about him was that never failed to remind you how beautiful were. You could've met him once for an hour, and within that hour he made you feel like the most beautiful and important person in the world. He was a truly incredible person.

Two years since his passing and I have him in mind with everything I do. I look at my 3.7  GPA and my name on the dean’s list and think about how proud he’d be of me. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to get him back with us, and healthy. But until I see him again, I’ll do everything in my power to make him proud. My uncle, Angel Luis, lives up to his name. He is truly my angel.

Although I'm still in utter and shock and sadness that he's gone, I'm unbelievably grateful for his last words to me, that I will never forget.

“My baby, I'm so proud of you. You've grown to be a beautiful young lady, I love you so much.”

Before I finish, I got three last words:

Fuck you, cancer.