#like even keeping in mind how young they are when they look Grown AF it kinda makes me think of them as older | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

Text

The Wrong Idea | Lee Bodecker x reader

summary: you weren’t exactly a rebel in the eyes of the law, but that didn’t mean you cared for the corrupt, alcoholic town sheriff. and that certainly didn’t mean you would care at all for him marrying your mother. if only you’d known how much worse it could get...

word count: 4.5k

warnings: smut!! (heavy dubcon/noncon), age gap (reader is 19), stepcest, loss of virginity, pain kink, creampie kink, infidelity, degradation, oral (m and f receiving), spanking, choking, slapping, daddy kink, authority kink, subtle ddlg themes?, reader’s mom being toxic af

You’d never cared for the Sheriff. Even you, being generally a well-behaved young woman, thought he was a little too intense and a little too corrupt. Up until now, you’d assumed your mother agreed with you on that, because she never protested to your complaints about Sheriff Bodecker and his ‘fascist reign of terror’ as you called it. Apparently that was a poor assumption, though.

“You… what?!”

“I never told you we were seein’ each other because I knew you had your childish rebellion against him and his police force,” your mother explained with a demeaning eyeroll. “But now that we’re engaged, I can’t hide it anymore.”

“How long has this been going on?” you asked quietly, still in shock at what you were hearing— and unable to take your eyes off of the sparkling diamond wrapped around her finger.

“Oh, I’d say… about two months now,” she decided.

“Two—” you stopped and started over, so bewildered that you couldn’t finish your original sentence. “You’re engaged after two months?”

“Don’t make that face at me, you look so ugly when you scowl like that,” she frowned. Of course, she could never miss an opportunity to nag you. “He’s a respectable man, and he treats me well. The wedding is in three weeks— and he’s generous enough to let you live with us after that. Says there’s a spare bedroom for you in his house.”

“His… his house…” you slurred, suddenly feeling light-headed. “I’m… we’re moving…?”

“Yes, honey, and with your work ethic it’ll take you the whole three weeks to pack up, so you should start now,” she informed you with that cruel, fake smile of hers.

She walked away as you sat down on the couch, staring off into space, trying to comprehend what you just heard. It’s not like you thought your mother was flawless or anything, or that you and her had a perfect relationship, but you thought she would’ve been a little more… gentle about all this. She could do better than him anyways! But she didn’t care about that, only money and status. You could almost laugh at her small-mindedness to think the Sheriff of a nothing-town like Knockemstiff was actually plentiful in either of those things, but right now you couldn’t laugh. You couldn’t even cry as you packed your things and said goodbye to the home you’d known your whole life. You were just numb.

You couldn’t look him in the eye when you arrived at his house, duffel bags in hand and shoes stained with the dry red dirt of summer. It was nicer than your old place, and if it were anyone else’s you’d say it had charm, but everything was tainted because you knew it was his. You could sort of tell that this had been his bachelor pad for a while, but it had a half-assed attempt at hominess with the rug in the living room and a centerpiece on the kitchen table. He even had a TV, presumably funded by bribes and all his other nefarious dealings— meaning you wouldn’t be able to bring yourself to watch it.

“Nice to meet ya, properly,” Lee greeted, though his monotone didn’t come across as particularly impassioned.

“Thank you, Sheriff,” you mumbled quickly, hoping to get this conversation over with.

“You don’t have to call me Sheriff anymore, you know. Not in the house, at least.”

You nodded but said nothing, following him as he motioned for you and moved into the hallway. You trailed behind him, noticing the eerie lack of any personal effects on the walls (no family photos, apparently, and not much of a family to photograph in the first place from what you’d heard), and stopped when he reached the door at the end.

“This is your room,” Lee informed you stiffly. Opening the door, you were horrified by the assault on your eyes of pink. Pink everything: pink wallpaper, a pink fuzzy quilt, pink bedframe. There were even assorted stuffed animals on the bed, disturbingly enough.

“When my mother told you she had a daughter, did she not mention that I was grown?”

“You may be nineteen, honey, but you’re nowhere near grown,” he scowled. “She didn’t tell me she had a daughter until two days before the weddin’. This is what I managed to... improvise, since then.”

You almost had sympathy for him, just in that you two were both victims of your mother’s eccentricity. Almost.

“Must’ve inherited your expensive taste from your ma,” he frowned. “Sorry, princess—” the nickname made his lips curl like the word itself tasted sour— “but this’ll have to do.”

“Oh, I’m nothing like her,” you sneered back, “cause I wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole.”

“What are you two chatting about?” your mother’s voice called from the kitchen.

Both of you answered at the same time: “Nothing!”

With a grimace, you dragged your bag into the room and shut the door in his face. It was those little acts of rebellion that had to tide you over. You weren’t audacious enough to do anything actually cruel, or illegal, but you weren’t going to make this any easier for him.

At first it was just refusing to leave your room. That worked for a week, until you realized you were going to starve to death. So then the only times you saw him were at the dinner table, which you made into a protest by pretending he didn’t exist and refusing to answer his questions. You occasionally relented when he asked you to pass something from your side of the table, but you never looked at him while you did it.

He didn’t seem angry or sad about your determination to avoid him, if anything it seemed like he was happy to pretend you weren’t there either. And that should’ve made it easier, but for some reason it bothered you even more. You realized that maybe his attention did matter to you, even though it was negative attention that you were hoping to inspire, but you knew that was ridiculous and you tried to fight it. Still, for all your plans to never see him, you sure did think about him a lot. You thought about where he might be, so you could be somewhere else. You thought about what he must be doing at work, and how he was probably continuing to be a nasty mean drunk as frequently as possible. You wondered if he and your mother were making love just across the house, although you were lucky enough to never hear anything. Just knowing that could be happening made you feel sick, even though you realized it was none of your business.

You sometimes found yourself listening for it at night, just in case.

Your mother had decided to spend her new husband’s money on a trip, but the man himself couldn’t tag along— too much work to do, apparently. The prospect of being left alone with him was nightmare fuel, but you didn’t even try to ask her to stay… you knew she wouldn’t listen. She’d been totally absorbed in her own world since the wedding, seeming to be very fulfilled by the social role of ‘Sheriff’s wife’ to the point that she had lost all interest in her former position as ‘your mom’.

There was a balance to the silence with her gone, though. You avoided him, he avoided you; it was a tense truce, but a survivable one. At least without her, nobody was going to try to make you two get along. Friday night was different, though. This time when he came home from work, you knew you were stuck with him until Monday morning. That thought made you realize that you needed to get out and you didn’t care if you weren’t dressed for it. It was hot, and it was just a walk so nobody was going to see you in this miniskirt anyway, right?

Too bad Lee was sitting on the couch, still in his uniform, not giving you any mind but likely to harass you before you could make it outside. You figured if you just walked casually enough, he wouldn’t even notice, so you made your way towards the door.

“You’re not going out like that,” he announced suddenly, seemingly without even looking up from his newspaper.

“Says who?” you deflected quickly with a raised brow. It wasn’t that you wanted to pick a fight, but you just couldn’t understand why he would even care what you were wearing.

“Says the guy who doesn’t want you to give all the neighborhood boys the wrong idea.”

“What idea?!�� you asked, crossing your arms. He shot you a look, quickly raking in your body and outfit which made you feel more observed than you cared for.

“The idea that you’re a slut,” he explained coldly.

You gulped at his words but tried to keep a poker face. You didn’t let it get this far just to give up. You were so sick of his shit; what made him think he could boss you around when he’d never even tried to get to know you?

“What makes you assume that’s the wrong idea?” you shot back, fighting the nervousness in your voice.

You hadn’t expected him to stand up instantly, the coffee table wobbling a bit when his knee bumped into it.

“The fuck did you say?” he hissed.

With his teeth bared at you he looked like a predator, and you felt like small, helpless prey. You tried to muster some of your former confidence, but everything came out shaky and weak. “I— I said that maybe it’s not the wrong ide—”

He pounced, crossing the room and slamming you back against the wall, a hand at each shoulder; you instantly cowered, shrinking back and turning your face away from him as far as you could. You never thought he’d put his hands on you like this. Your heart was pounding so loudly that you were surprised you could hear his hoarse whisper.

“Watch your tone with me. I’m not kidding around.”

“I’m an adult,” you weakly fought back, “I can do what I want.”

“Not in my fuckin’ house you can’t!” he bellowed.

For some reason, it all hit you at once. All the emotions you’d been suppressing since your mother had gotten engaged— all the anger and fear and betrayal and indignation, they came bubbling up before you could stop them.

“I don’t even want to be in your ugly fucking house!” you cried in response. “I don’t wanna be anywhere near you! You’re a fascist and a tyrant and a pig!”

You expected him to get more aggressive but he suddenly stilled. It was the scariest anger, that outwardly-calm type that made your blood go cold.

“Go to your room.”

You didn’t question it, turning to walk away (any excuse to get away from him, right?), but you didn’t expect him to follow you in and shut the door behind the both of you.

You were paralyzed with fear as he stepped past you and sat on your bed. It was sort of strange as you realized you’d never seen him in your room before. He stood out against the somewhat childish decorations, but you were in no mood to appreciate the humor of the situation as he patted his knee.

“Lay across my lap. Don’t make me tell you twice.”

He couldn’t possibly be doing what I think he’s doing, could he? you wondered to yourself, but did as he asked. You realized you’d never been so close to him before, the warmth of his body radiating through his clothes. He smelled like cologne and booze, although you didn’t think he’d actually had much to drink yet today— at least compared to his normal habits. It was almost worse to think that he wasn’t acting on drunkenness now.

“It’s prob’ly too late for it, but you are in serious need of discipline, young lady.”

You had no idea what he was talking about, but your body reacted to it differently than you expected.

His fingers slipped between the top of your skirt and your skin, having to pull pretty hard to get it down due to how tight it was. You bit your lip and hoped he wouldn’t notice your arousal, but as your pussy was exposed, you could feel the breeze from the ceiling fan and you knew you were undeniably wet. You didn’t know why, but you were.

“Count them for me,” he instructed coldly and before you could ask what you were counting, he brought his hand down firmly. You felt his wedding ring in the slap and it made you feel a little sick.

“O-one,” you stammered.

He delivered four more, alternating cheeks, and you tried not to react with visible pain. But as the intensity increased, you realized that not reacting might’ve actually been making it worse. Either way, you couldn’t stop yourself from crying out when the eighth made your whole body lurch forward from the force.

“Eight!” you squealed, but both of you noticed the way you pushed your hips forward. Unintentional as it may have been, you were trying to rub yourself on his thigh, desperate to be touched where it felt like all the energy of your body had focused. You were sure you’d never been so horny before, and now your clit was nearly throbbing. What the fuck is wrong with me?!

He quickly delivered the final two slaps before grabbing your neck, hoisting you up until you were on your knees before him. He examined your face closely and you tried to keep your lip from shaking.

“You’re worse than I thought,” he hissed. “You are in dire need of a punishment. You should thank me for going so easy on you so far.”

You realized when his grip on your jaw tightened that he was being literal. “Thank you, for going easy on me…”

“Where’d that fire go, huh? Guess you’re all talk,” he laughed.

He roughly shoved his fingers into your mouth, moaning lowly as your tongue rubbed against the pads of his fingers. “This fuckin’ mouth. You just don’t know when to keep it shut, do you? Come on baby, open up. I’ve got a better use for it than your fuckin’ disrespectful attitude.”

He used his free hand to work on his belt right in front of your face, and your eyes went wide.

“Don’t act so surprised sweetheart,” he said with a hint of irritation, “this is exactly what you’re asking for.”

You gasped a bit when his cock was freed from his trousers, springing up and already red at the tip. You’d never seen one this close before and it was intimidating in every way.

“Like what you see? You’re so wet for it,” he purred. You tried to speak but words abandoned you.

It was all a blur as he held your mouth open and shoved his cock inside— it tasted like skin and salt, and the size made your chapped lips crack until you worried they would bleed. His moans were deep and gravelly, making your skin break out into goosebumps as he pumped smoothly into your pliant mouth. He slapped your face a few times, not quite hard but plenty strong enough to make it sting. You winced with each impact, the tears which had welled from your gagging finally falling down and dripping from your chin.

“Suck on it, princess, like a popsicle… fuck yeah, like that,” he groaned, and your mind resisted obeying him but your body was completely at his mercy. “Aw baby, ya look so good chokin’ on my cock. Is that what you were gonna go do in this slutty little outfit you’ve got on?”

You tried to shake your head but he was holding you down, not even giving you a chance to breathe. His protruding stomach rubbed against your forehead when his cock was this deep in your throat, and the disgust and fear somehow made your arousal stronger.

He let you go, finally, and you pulled back with a gasp and a cough. You weren’t given much reprieve, though, as he started to tug at your blouse as well.

“No, wait,” you whimpered, weakly trying to bat his hands away.

“Wait? I think I’ve been waiting long enough,” he growled. “Your ma’s a fuckin’ tease, hasn’t touched me since I got her that ugly fuckin’ ring. Let’s hope you learn from her mistakes.”

Your blouse was torn open and tossed aside, leaving you only in the pulled-up skirt and your bra. Reaching up to cover yourself, you were discouraged by the shockingly-gentle brush of his hands.

“Don’t cover yourself, sweetheart, you’re gorgeous,” he murmured. His gaze made you feel hot all over, and it wasn’t just because of the summer weather outside. “Nobody ever looked at ya before?”

You shook your head, looking down at the floor. A finger under your chin guided you to look up at him.

“Nobody ever touched ya before?” he pressed, his stare boring into you. You shook your head again. “Fuck,” he whispered, but then he started to smile proudly. “Knew you were a good girl, princess, you just didn’t wanna act like one for some reason. You gonna be good for me now?”

You nodded weakly, swallowing as you tried to comprehend what was happening.

“Then I’ll be good to you, too,” he promised darkly, a shimmer in his eyes that made you throb between your thighs. “Come get on the bed, pretty girl.”

You almost resisted, but it was your need driving you now, not your mind. You had been waiting too long to let a boy touch you, and now that a man had touched you, you felt all kinds of wrong and yet craved more. Before you had even finished sitting down beside him, he was slipping off your bra and pushing you back onto the quilt.

“Sheriff!” you yelped instinctively, a little disoriented as he started to climb on top of you.

He chuckled, clearly amused by your unexpected appeal to authority. “Wanna know a secret, sweetheart? Wanna know the real reason I said you didn’t have to call me that anymore?” He leaned down, his breath hot and moist against your neck when he spoke: “Because it made me so fuckin’ hard when you said it.”

He pressed his cock, still wet with your spit, against your thigh; maybe just for emphasis, a reminder that he was still hard and wasn’t anywhere near done with you.

“What are you gonna do to me…?” you asked weakly, your voice so wavering and broken that you cringed just hearing it.

“Just gonna make you feel good, princess,” he smiled, and before you could ask what that would entail, he was groping your tits in his large, calloused hands. A low groan echoed in his chest, and you tried not to squirm as he teased your nipples between his fingers. They were already hardening from the moment he’d touched you, but somehow it was getting even worse when he played with them, watching your face and surely seeing the shame you wore there.

His hands trailed lower, rubbing your waist, your thighs… you found yourself anticipating that he’d remove your panties, so much so that when he did, you quickly lifted your hips to help him slide them off. You couldn’t believe how easily you were letting him do this to you.

“I can tell how much you want it,” he taunted lowly as the fabric slid down your legs and was tossed to the floor. “I can smell how much you want it.” He growled a little before diving in, licking a thick stripe through your folds and taking a moment right at the end to tickle your clit with his tongue. “So fuckin’ sweet, princess; I knew you would be,” he praised. You were forced to wonder how long he’d been thinking about this.

The noises were beyond obscene and you felt your face burning— but there was a burning in your gut, too, and shooting down your legs. You’d never felt like this before (being a very good girl who never even touched herself), but you knew that if he didn’t stop, you would come. And you really, really wanted to come.

Everytime he put pressure on your clit, your leg quivered involuntarily. It was nearly too much, the sensation so powerful it almost hurt, but he pushed you right to the edge without knocking you off.

“Please,” you found yourself begging before you could stop it, “please, Sheriff—”

“I’m not your Sheriff anymore, sweetheart,” he informed you gruffly, popping up from between your legs with the entire bottom half of his face covered in your arousal, “I’m your daddy now. Go on and beg your daddy to fuck you.”

Eyes shot wide open, you stared back at him in bewilderment. Rage flashed in his eyes, and he snarled as his hand suddenly wrapped around your neck, tightening and choking you.

“You heard me,” he groaned through his teeth. “Beg me. To fuck you.”

“Daddy,” you stammered, hoarsely fighting to speak through the pressure on your throat, “fuck me, please.”

He slammed his cock into you and you nearly screamed. It burned and you instinctively tried to crawl away but, of course, his weight on top of you made it impossible.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned. He laid down on top of you entirely then, slipping his arms under your torso and holding you tightly.

Each thrust made you feel like you had reached your limits, as if you couldn’t be stretched further which was probably true. And yet, in spite of it (or worse, because of it), you found yourself moaning and writhing under him, even arching your back to make his movements smoother. He laughed a little as he bit at the shell of your ear.

“You love it, baby,” he moaned, “you love my cock.”

You couldn’t respond, just sob as you clutched at the shirt still on his back, your jaw tight as you tried to bear the pain.

“It’s not always gonna hurt like this,” he promised between heavy breaths, “s’gonna feel good soon. Gonna make you feel so fuckin’ good, pretty girl.”

Truthfully, you weren’t sure if that meant that this would happen again or not. At the moment, you were incapable of thinking that far ahead, too focused on the way the sting of the stretch was melting away and morphing into such powerful pleasure that you couldn’t even see straight.

He kissed you, and only then did the weight of it hit you. Who he was, what he was doing, what you were doing… it had been distant and vague before, but something about his tongue inside your mouth made you remember that the metal digging into your back was his ring; that the lips on yours were sworn to somebody else— and at that, the one exact person that made this so fundamentally wrong.

Tears welled in your eyes, gentle sobs shaking your chest.

“Don’t cry, baby,” he whispered, pulling back and kissing your tears away, “feels good, don’t it? Feels good when daddy fucks you?”

You knew speaking would only make you cry more, so you only nodded your head shamefully.

“That’s my good girl,” he moaned as he fucked you deeper, harder, rougher. Your fingers held onto the back of his neck, running through his hair and pulling him closer. He kept mumbling praises but they fell on deaf ears, pleasure clouding your mind and making every hair on your body stand upright. He didn’t stop as he reached down between your bodies and laid his hand over your stomach, growling with satisfaction at what he found there.

“I can feel me inside ya,” he grinned. “Feel that, sweetheart? Feel how deep I am in your wet little cunt?”

When you didn’t answer, you got a quick slap to the face. “Yes,” you replied quickly, “yes, I— I feel it.”

He buried his face into the crook of your neck, biting you there until you nearly screamed. You couldn’t figure out why something so objectively painful only pushed you closer to your peak, making every spot inside you more sensitive, but somehow it did.

“Gonna come, pretty girl? Want daddy to fill you up?” he groaned against your ear, pushing down on your stomach even harder.

“Yes, daddy!” you sobbed. “Please!”

“Fuck, you’re squeezin’ me,” he hissed, “don’t fuckin’ stop. Keep milkin’ my cock and m’gonna fill ya up so good, princess…”

You couldn’t stop even if you tried— your orgasm hit you in powerful waves, your head falling back as your walls clenched involuntarily (as did your fingers and toes, so hard that your nail tore the sheets a little bit, which you wouldn’t notice until the next day). He grunted as he came, pumping into you with each thrust until you felt more full than you ever had before, in a way you could never describe.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment, him catching his breath and you losing yours as his weight threatened to crush you. “Fuck,” he groaned as he sat up and pulled out. He grabbed your legs and held them up for you, staring at your abused pussy and making you feel uncomfortably observed.

“Push it out for me, wanna see my come leak outta ya,” he purred, moaning a little when you did as he asked. It felt even hotter as it gushed out of you, and you mindlessly bit your lip. He tucked his softening cock back into his trousers, rezipping them and buckling his belt. “We’d better get ya cleaned up, huh princess?”

The bathroom wasn’t far, so he carried you, setting you down to stand on your own as he started to draw a bath. You watched him, although you weren’t really watching him so much as staring into the void of space that happened to be in his general direction. You were so out of it that you didn’t even register when he turned around and smiled at you with an air of pride.

“You look so good like this.”

It pulled you out of your trance, though you had to ask him to repeat himself with a mumbled “huh?”

“I said you look good like this,” he explained, stepping closer. “Fucked out, braindead, just my empty-headed fucktoy.”

“I… I don’t…” you began to disagree.

He used your jaw to turn your face to the mirror, and you gasped when you saw yourself: your hair was a mess; your whole face was red, especially your eyes and nose from crying, but plenty on your cheeks where he’d slapped you; your lips were swollen and slick; bruises were already forming on your arms where he’d grabbed you, and along your neck and shoulders where he had bitten you.

His form dwarfed yours as he stood behind you, looking at your reflection with a smile.

“Look at us,” he announced wistfully, “one big happy family, huh?”

#lee bodecker x reader #dark!lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker smut #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker x y/n #dark fic

3K notes · View notes

peakyblindersxx · 4 years ago

Text

whiskey buisness - john shelby x reader (part 2 of ?)

read part one here!

a/n: hey loves! i'm finishing up school rn, but i had to get this out and i'm about to start working on a tommy request immediately after i upload this. anyways, i'm so excited to post this series, it's incredible and i can't thank my bestie @stxdyblr-2k enough. she is a fucking genius :)

prompt: you can't get john out of your head. lo and behold, here he is.

warnings: fluff, mentions of smut, angsty af, soft john (ugh my heart)

Despite your best efforts, you'd been unable to stop yourself yearning for John Shelby. Your pokey flat now often lay empty; you were far too busy to mope at home due to your career as a personal assistant to a local solicitor who was allied with the Shelby's, attending rallies and lectures with Ada and the drunken nights you'd spend at various mansions, galleries and club openings with the "razor chasers" you'd become friendly with due to their refusal to leave Ada alone. Yet still, in those odd seconds of calm you seized over a cigarette, the first seconds after a bump of Tokyo, when you carefully applied your makeup, styled your hair or bathed, you'd think of him. The way the pads of his fingertips felt on your skin, how he’d muttered in your ear how pretty you looked.

But this was different to when you were dreaming about John at 15; he was no longer the allusive older brother of Ada who had a string of beautiful girls on rotation. He wasn’t a fantasy anymore. He was true flesh and blood, and for a moment he had wanted you.

It would be delicious if the whole situation hadn't left a bitter taste in your mouth. Of course you came back to Brum to only immediately fuck it up. The first night, and already you were so close to ruining everything? Looking back, now that you were so close with Ada once more, now that you knew who John had grown to be, that night was cringe inducing. Luckily, no one had seemed to catch on. Luckily, you thrived in the Small Heath rumour mill once again. All the gossip about you was mainly about your substance use, the lads you were seen curling up with outside nightclubs, your intelligence, your helpful nature, sometimes your questionable politics but that was all. John's was far darker, stories of blood, death and gasoline. Recently, the tales of his conquests had quietened, but only due to the lurid delight taken by the factory workers in talking about the recent blinding of some poor fucker who'd crossed the wrong person. Obviously, a lot of the detail had to be exaggerated for shock value and to boost the Shelby status, solidifying them as notorious throughout Birmingham city and its rural surroundings. There were murmurs everywhere about the violent John Shelby: ruthless, cocky, vengeful. It seemed impossible that the same man who cracked shit jokes just to see you smile, kissed you with so much desperation, and prioritised getting you off first could cause such harm without an ounce of guilt or shame to slow his swagger.

Whispers of war were far more constant, but then again, people would say anything for a reaction. You didn't bring it up with Ada. You refused to (openly) partake in mindless gossip on principle, yet you were hungry for information about him.

***********

You'd long forgotten whose wedding you were at. Some loyal blinder, a close friend of the Shelby's, the occasion calling for a large white marquee to be built onto one of Tommy's gardens, fully staffed with the best chef and service team money could buy (from a London restaurant at short notice; when Finn told you the extortionate figure Tommy had paid, your jaw had dropped). The cake, dress and decorations were stunning; you weren't sure exactly what the groom had done for the Shelby's but you could only assume the worst for what they'd splashed out on him.

However, thinking like that only spoilt your night: you'd realised at your fifth club takeover, now you repeated it like a mantra constantly. You'd quickly learnt every excess the Shelby's granted to those outside their circle were due to some perceived sacrifice for being associated with them. Well, that's what you chose to believe after John had sent a junior blinder to your office with a bouquet, the Monday morning after he turned you down. So, it was best to smile and take the shit, get paid, and get out as soon as possible. You were to keep your head down until then.

Yet, keeping your head down was difficult tonight. Ada had treated you to a shopping trip to London for the occasion this morning, Arthur forcing the junior blinders to tag along next to you on the train and trailing less than two metres behind you for hours. You missed the days when it was just you and Ada. It was far more simple without the stares whenever the two of you stepped out. Ada had gotten used to it, she'd devised her own methods of being completely alone; complex plans involving leaving a window open, knotting sheets into a rope and twisting her ankles. Not that she minded, she reckoned the suffocation of being a Shelby was much worse than a few bruised ankles.

You were wearing a clingy emerald green dress from some fancy French boutique you couldn't even pronounce, the diamond necklace sitting along your collarbone and the jewels dangling through your ears were on loan from Ada. You felt eyes unpicking you the moment you entered the after-party. Your arm was linked through Ada's as per usual, she looked equally stylish in a peacock blue number that set off her eyes, her delicate features perfected with makeup.

You'd quickly found your gaggle and began drinking and dancing the night away. Whispers about snow arose from your table, people disappearing to the toilets to rail a line on the bathroom counter, then to the dance floor or to the lap of the poor fucker who'd hold back their hair while they vomited in just a few hours. At least the Blinders were polite about it. Isaiah would kill them if they weren’t. You'd let your arm be tugged on various bathroom trips, treated among your group like secret missions although you weren't entirely subtle about it.

What you weren't aware of was across the marquee, you were being watched by the three men in your life who you'd never want to see you in this state: the Shelby's.

"Looks like Finn's taken your spot, John." Arthur yelled in John's ear over the loud music, gesturing to the youngest Shelby sat at the table next to you who was staring up at you in complete adoration as you chatted across him to Michael, seemingly arguing with him. By the looks of it, you were winning.

John pulled a face at Arthur. “Fuck off, old man. That'll never happen. Finn’s too young for her." He immediately regretted the words that had fallen out of his mouth, revealing far too much for his comfort.

"It's not impossible."

"He's just not right for her, yeah?"

"And you are?"

John didn't bother to bless him with a verbal response, instead flipping him off and downing the rest of his whiskey. "It's not like that."

"What's it like then? Because from where I'm sitting, it's pretty fucking clear, John." Arthur slurred, glass of whiskey sloshing onto his sleeve.

"You're too gone to even know you're chatting shit." John sneered, standing up, "I'm off for a smoke and some fresh air. Try not to fuck anything in my absence, both of you."

His brothers cursed him out as he left. John took a second to figure out his route, purposefully having to cross your path, gesturing for you to follow him subtly. He was surprised you came trailing after him, telling Michael that you weren’t done yelling at him and you’d be back. When you were both only metres from the marquee, he knew you were fucked. You were instantly bored, begging him for a cigarette, which he lit for you, shaking his head at your state.

"You're a fucking mess, love." He said, mouth sloping attractively to one side.

"Takes one to know one, John-boy. Where are we off to, then?"

"Somewhere fucking quiet, can barely hear myself think. Plus, you need to sober the fuck up, lass." He said, softly, as he walked across the dew soaked grass. You followed, heels in hand, holding your dress up as not to ruin it. He sighed, taking the shoes from your hands and wrapping his blazer around your shoulders, linking your arm through his for stability. He kept the distance respectful, but there wasn’t any denying the thick tension in the summer air between the two of you. Ahead, there was a small stone bench sat at the foot of one of Thomas' manicured gardens, and John offered his hand to help you sit. You made small talk and caught up on each other's lives, and you noted John only seemed to glow when you asked about his kids. He talked at length, the drink seemingly unhinging his jaw. There he was again, the John you knew and had admired for so many years. You could sit here forever, watching his blue eyes sparkle in the sunlight. Yet, it just wasn’t meant to be. You wished you could stop time just for a bit, give you enough moments to memorize the freckles on his skin.

"You know the night I first came home?" The alcohol and snow had loosened your lips. You were teetering on the edge of your boundaries, but you couldn't care enough to hold back.

"The night where absolutely nothing happened?" He joked, raising an eyebrow at you, cautious that you'd randomly brought it up in your state. "Sweetheart, this can wait."

He was warning you. For a second you managed to bite your tongue, but curiosity tipped you over the edge.

"But something nearly happened, right?"

"Y/N. Don't." He warned, his tone icy, suddenly distancing from you, hiding between an emotional boundary which he didn't wish to explore.

"John, it's just us. Can't we even talk about it?"

"There's nothing to talk about, though. You were off your face then, and now. That's fine. We know where we stand. It can't happen."

"I wanted to. I do want to."

"You don't. Trust me. You need a nice lad who'll marry you and look after you. Just need to keep your nose clean long enough yeah?" He teased, trying to lighten the mood, blue eyes begging you to move on.

Your head turned to face him, your face contorting in a mixture of confusion and irritation. "You don't get to tell me what I want or need. The last thing I want is to marry any lad, nice or not."

"I didn't mean it like that, right? Look, I just meant you deserve better than Shelby scum. You're going places you know? Don't settle for Small Heath." John responded with a pained sigh. He didn’t want to get into it with you; not here, not like this. He'd thought about it, naturally. You were constantly on his mind, yet only problems ever seemed to appear, never solutions. It was best for him to avoid you. Why the fuck did he drag you out here? Horrible idea.

"Your family isn't scum. Where the fuck did you get that from?" Your face was screwed up in genuine rage. "I-"

"Y/N, fuckin’ leave it."

His face had hardened completely now. He'd snapped at you. His voice hadn't raised, it was just the power he spat his order out with. You held up your hands in mock surrender, pointedly taking a cigarette from his front pocket and light it silently, not saying a word.

"Why are you so bothered, anyways?" He asked, breaking the silence like you knew he would. John always had to ask questions.

"Fuck off with that, John. I'm not in the mood."

"What do you mean?" He looked completely lost.

"We nearly had sex. Just sex, nothing else right?"

John remained silent.

"Would it be the worst thing in the world?" You asked, your voice wavering. It was hard enough to get the words out, let alone imagine the response.

"You're far too wasted to chat about this, love."

"John, I’m not-"

"I'm serious. You're fucking mashed like my brothers aren't you? Like all those other fuckers in there." He sounded genuinely angry. In the glow of the sunset he looked so much younger, so hurt and lonely. Why hadn't you noticed before?

He turned to you, eyes widened and shocked at his own outburst. "You're not the only one gone yeah? Ignore me, I'm fucked, sorry."

You reached out your hand and linked your fingers through his in silence, the warm evening wind ruffling your hair and dress, blocked from your skin by John's suit jacket which was wrapped around your shoulders. Not that anyone would notice or care. As long as Ada wasn't with you, you could disappear for hours without any alarm. There you sat in the tranquil last few moments of the day, your hand linked with John's, both beyond tipsy. You weren’t thinking properly but it felt right. You felt safe. You didn't want to have to return to the chaos of the party, to have to catch up on who your friends were currently trying to screw. None of that seemed to matter anymore.

Was it too much to ask for something to be simple? Maybe you didn't have to fuck him. Maybe just these small moments were enough. You laughed at the thought when it crossed your mind; neither you nor John were known for consistency or stability in relationships, you being admittedly rather inexperienced, only having been with a few men, and he had his fair share of escapades. But he was just so different. You wouldn't admit that he'd gotten your attention in any way than purely sexually (which surprised you to admit) and for fun, but you genuinely enjoyed his presence.

He was right though. It wasn't a good idea at all to hook up. There was far too much baggage for both of you to make it worth it.

Just once?

You glanced over at John. He rolled his eyes at you, but the edges of his lips were slightly upturned, his dimples faintly peeking through his defined cheeks.

Just once couldn't hurt.

***

The sky was streaked with shades of gold, amber and blood. John could feel the friction from your knee barely knocking against his, the pressure putting him on edge. In fairness, he had drunk heavily, and that's what happens when you let your guard down around beautiful women. He couldn't believe you had told him you wanted to have sex with him still. He'd chalked the whole situation down to a drunken mistake that would have progressed into a far more significant drunken mistake. Ada would never forgive him if he went for another of her mates. Especially Y/N. No matter if he said that Y/N could be different, that you wasn't just another conquest. But who'd believe him?

Far better to keep his mouth shut.

Far better to play safe.

As you were called back to the party by the gaggle of girls John vaguely recognised from hanging off the arms of other blinders, he realised (despite his state) that you were right. Having sex with you wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. In fact, it might be one of the best.

Just once?

He watched your figure disappear back into the marquee, waiting for you to turn back and look for him. You do. He would have done the same if it was him.

Maybe just once wouldn't hurt.

***

to be continued!

#john shelby fluff #john shelby #john shelby x reader #john shelby imagine #john shelby reader insert #peaky blinders fluff #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders

569 notes · View notes

writingfortoomanyfandoms · 4 years ago

Text

The Only Woman

Pairing: (Henry Cavill!)Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Requested: Yep - “Hello Ma’amMay I request a Sherlock Holemes x Redaer?That when they were younger she was BSF with Sherlock and Mycroft. And all of the sudden they disappeared and never wrote to her a letter or nothing. And she got closer to Enola and when Edoria disappeared she reunites with Sherlock and Mycroft and Reader is Mad and Sad that he left without saying nothing. She always was in love with him and at the end she finds out he also was in love with her! And lots of fluffThank You so MuchAnonymous (she/her/hers)”

Summary: Basically just the request

Warnings: Probably some swearing, some 20th century misogyny, pining, fluff, angst, denial, all that fun stuff, probably ooc Sherlock but we vibe with it because he’s soft af

A/N: My first full length Sherlock fic! I should mention that my requests aren’t actually open right now, especially not for full fics but I was inspired by this request and so decided to make it into a full one! I hope you guys enjoy, please remember to reblog, comment or send an ask letting me know what you think and if you want to see me write more for Sherlock (and Henry and his other characters for that matter) in the future!

Y/N had been essentially another resident of the Holmes household her whole life, having been introduced to the family through the two boys - Sherlock and Mycroft, whom she had run into while out playing in the woods. Her family lived in the house nearest to the Holmes residence, technically making them neighbours.

Sherlock and Mycroft didn’t exactly do ‘friends’, that much had been clear even to Y/N’s young mind after meeting them. She was a year and a half younger than Sherlock and yet she still knew more about interacting with other people than he did. Not that either of the Holmes boys had ever seemed interested in other people, they had their brains to keep them occupied, and when they failed to find entertainment in learning, they had each other.

Despite this, they took a shine to Y/N when they found her playing make-believe on her own in the woods and insisted that she come over to have dinner with them and their family.

Mr and Mrs Holmes had gone out of their way, following that initial visit, to make Y/N feel as welcome as possible at Ferndell Hall. At first this was simply because they were astounded that their sons had actually made a friend and seemed interested in maintaining this friendship, but then it was partially as a result of the somewhat turbulent relationship that it became clear Y/N had with her family.

Eudoria in particular had ensured that Y/N knew she could always come and visit, that there was a spare bedroom that could be set up should she require it, which Y/N only began to take advantage of as she grew up and the rows with her parents over her future became more frequent.

However, it was always Sherlock that she was closest to. While she considered Mycroft a friend, and he had grudgingly returned the sentiment, they had never clicked in the same way that Y/N had with Sherlock. Occasionally Mycroft would storm off midway through a game, frustrated by Sherlock’s intelligence which so trumped his and Y/N’s, or he would simply decide that he was ‘above’ having friends.

Sherlock never much minded Y/N hanging around though. Truthfully, now that she was grown, Y/N looked back at their years of friendship and couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps his reason for tolerating her company was because she gave him the awed reactions that he secretly desired from his intelligence.

She had fond memories of her childhood with the Holmes. At Ferndell she never felt the need to pretend to be a young lady ready to be married that her parents so desperately wanted her to be, even as a child. Mr Holmes encouraged her to continue her studies beyond what her Governess would teach her, and Eudoria actively tried to teach her all that she could, going so far as to teach her alongside her sons on occasion - Mycroft wasn’t exactly fond of that, though Sherlock appeared to enjoy her company.

And then there was Enola, a surprisingly timid child considering the family that she had been born into - though Eudoria was convinced that her shyness was a trait that she would soon grow out of. Enola adored Y/N.

While Sherlock and Mycroft paid their little sister no mind, too caught up in their own lives to acknowledge their baby sister’s, Y/N was fond of Enola. Having grown up in a male-dominated household with only brothers for company, she had always wanted a younger sister.

It was Mr Holmes’ death that changed everything.

Not long after his death, Y/N was saying goodbye to her two closest friends as they left for Boarding School. Y/N had promised to write to them and had been encouraged to do so by Sherlock, who seemed thrilled by the prospect of their continued communication and Mycroft had also seemed somewhat in favour of the idea.

Y/N wrote to the brothers for a year after they left. Her letters to Sherlock in particular were long and full of detail about both her life, her parents continued attempts to interest her in marriage and her attempts to further her education, as well as the lives of Eudoria and Enola.

After a year of these letters, however, Y/N had yet to receive word from either brother and thus, with a heavy heart, she had halted her letter writing and turned her mind away from the Holmes brothers.

Eudoria had ensured that Y/N still knew that she was welcome whenever she wanted to come over, however, and so Y/N’s life at Ferndell continued even with the absence of the boys she had considered to be her closest friends.

Y/N had been the first to be informed that Eudoria had disappeared, Enola having ran over to her house the day of her sixteenth birthday in a state of distress, imploring the older woman to help her. They had agreed that it was best for Sherlock and Mycroft to be contacted at once, with Sherlock’s career, Enola had been certain that her brother would make himself indispensable.

Y/N had been less keen on writing to the Holmes brothers, dreading having to see her old friends again, still far more hurt than she could care to admit about their silence following their departure. Every time in the past week that Enola had brought up the topic of her brothers, Y/N had been quick to change the subject.

A decision that she was coming to regret now that she approached Ferndell to find an automobile parked outside of it. Y/N bit back a groan, aware that its presence more than likely meant that Sherlock and Mycroft would be waiting inside.

Y/N didn’t knock before she entered, she never had as she had basically been a part of the family over the past few years.

She could hear the low mumble of voices coming from the drawing room, which were becoming steadily louder and Y/N’s expression dropped into a deep frown as she stepped towards the room, recognising Enola’s voice, breaking with emotion, even through the closed doors.

Before she could place her hand on the knob, however, the door was flung open and Enola rushed out, crashing into Y/N, who almost dropped the bags she was holding.

“Enola?” Y/N breathed, her hands gripping onto the young girl’s shoulders, steadying her.

“Y/N!” Enola embraced her tightly, though not before Y/N caught sight of her face, flushed red and eyes shining with tears, her expression the picture of distress.

“What’s happened? What’s wrong? Why are you… in your undergarments?” Y/N asked in a rush as Enola pulled away. The teenager wiped fiercely at her face, clenching her jaw.

“My brothers are here…” Enola seemed to struggle with herself for a moment before shaking her head. “I wish to be alone.”

With that, Enola pushed past her and shortly after Y/N heard footsteps on the stairs. Y/N looked back to the door to the drawing room and caught a glimpse of a man holding a book, chestnut curls falling over his forehead, his brown eyes just visible, his brow furrowed as though he were frowning.

Sherlock was recognisable immediately. His eyes moved over to the door, away from the chair Y/N knew to be facing him in the room which she assumed seated Mycroft, and his book lowered, his head raising and his lips parting in slight surprise - an expression that Y/N had never seen on him in the entire duration of their friendship.

Before he could say anything, however, Y/N turned on her heel and walked towards the kitchen.

“Good morning, Miss Y/L/N,” Mrs Lane said from where she was kneading bread dough on the kitchen counter.

“Morning, Mrs Lane - I see that Enola’s brothers have arrived.”

“Yes, they got here yesterday,” Mrs Lane confirmed as Y/N placed down the bags of food she had bought and began to unpack them into the pantry. Knowing how overworked Mrs Lane had been, staffing the house alone, particularly since Eudoria’s absence, Y/N had taken to doing the food shopping for them.

“Enola seemed very upset,” Y/N said, unable to conceal her worry.

“Yes - Mr Mycroft has been less than impressed by both the state of the house and Enola herself.”

“Why?” Y/N demanded, her frown deepening, the beginnings of anger festering in her stomach.

“He doesn’t think Mrs Holmes did a good job of raising her,” Mrs Lane looked equally disgusted by the words even as she spoke them. “He wishes to send her to a finishing school to turn her into a proper lady.”

“But can’t he see that she’s happy here?”

“I don’t think Mr Holmes much cares,” Mrs Lane admitted.

“What does Sherlock think of all of it?”

“He has been rather silent on the matter, Miss Y/L/N,” Mrs Lane said, shaking her head and sighing. “I fear Enola has been rather disappointed by the brother she so idolised.”

“She said she wished to be alone for a while,” Y/N said, leaning on the counter and rubbing her forehead, wanting to ease out the deep concern she was feeling for the girl she had come to think of as a sister. “I’ll try and talk to her in a little bit,” she decided and Mrs Lane nodded her approval.

Y/N ventured out into the garden half an hour later, figuring that that was ample time for Enola to think it over for herself. Y/N knew exactly where the Holmes daughter would be, she knew that Enola had a favourite tree in the garden where she would go, should she want to get away from the house for a little bit.

What she wasn’t expecting was to find Sherlock walking back from the direction of the very tree Y/N knew Enola to be hiding in. He looked deep in thought, but there was no denying the very slight smile that lifted the corners of his lips.

Y/N allowed her head to fall, her eyes on the ground, hoping against hope that there was even the smallest chance that Sherlock may not notice her.

“Y/N - it was you I saw,” there was an edge of something like delight in his voice as he spoke and Y/N wanted to look up, to see his expression, to confirm that he was smiling as he acknowledged her.

Instead, she chose to ignore him and attempted to continue walking.

“Y/N!” Sherlock called, and reached out a hand to gently take hold of her arm, pulling her ever-so carefully back to stand in front of her.

“Mr Holmes,” Y/N returned his greeting, lifting her head to watch his features fall into a slight frown.

“I wasn’t aware that you would be here,” Sherlock said, his eyes searching hers.

“I was always welcome at Ferndell,” Y/N responded stiffly. “Now I must go and speak with Enola,” she said, turning ready to leave him.

“Y-” Sherlock cut himself off from saying her name. “Miss Y/L/N,” he corrected, and Y/N risked a glance at her old friend over her shoulder, seeing his brow crinkled in confusion, an expression that she had rarely seen during their childhood.

“Yes, Mr Holmes?”

“How have you been?” Sherlock was floundering, that much was obvious. All the articles about him that Y/N and Enola had read, all her memories of him from her younger years had always portrayed him as being calm, collected, ready with his words. Seeing him now, in this state of uncertainty, caused by seeing her for the first time after so many years, it brought her a sense of satisfaction.

“Fine thank you, now if you’ll excuse me,” she didn’t give Sherlock a chance to respond, walking away from him as quickly as possible, though she could feel his eyes burning into her back as she left him behind.

Enola was sitting on the grass at the base of the tree, her back pressed up against it, her sketchbook balanced on her lap but her eyes were glazed over and looking at the scenery rather than at the pages.

“Can I join you?”

The teenager started, her eyes widening in slight shock but then she relaxed as her eyes landed on Y/N, who she offered a small, tired smile and nodded her head. Once Y/N had seated herself on the ground, Enola scooted over to rest her head on her shoulder and let out a long sigh.

“I’m glad to see you’ve put on clothes now,” Y/N finally broke the silence and the younger girl laughed a little.

“Apparently my proportions are incorrect,” Enola informed her.

“Yes, I often find myself thinking that,” Y/N teased and Enola giggled again, playfully elbowing Y/N in the side. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t want to go to Miss Harrison’s Finishing School for Young Girls.”

“Finishing school is the worst,” Y/N agreed.

“I remember when you went,” Enola murmured. “Mother said you hated it.”

“I did,” Y/N confirmed. “I begged my parents every holiday to not send me back, I think I even asked your mother at one point to adopt me so that I wouldn’t have to go,” Y/N chuckled at the memory, shaking her head. “It was a source of great amusement for my brothers.”

“Mine too,” Enola said darkly. “Mycroft is an utter pig, you know.”

Y/N laughed again at the choice of words.

“Family reunion didn’t go quite as planned, I take it?”

“I didn’t have a hat or gloves,” Enola sighed.

“So off to finishing school?”

“The only logical course of action,” Enola agreed, her tone biting. “You were friends with them, weren’t you?”

“Yes,” Y/N said, wary of where this conversation was going. “But I stand no chance of changing their minds. Mycroft was always stubborn, even when we were children, and I haven’t seen them since they went to boarding school.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry, I wish I could help,” Y/N said, her heart aching for the young woman.

“It’s okay,” Enola murmured. “I was just wondering, though… Sherlock was talking about me as a child - you must have known me at the same time as him, yes?” Y/N nodded her confirmation. “I think I have more memories of you than him or Mycroft.”

“I spent a lot of time with you,” Y/N shrugged.

“He said that I used to drag a pinecone around with me.”

Y/N couldn’t help herself from laughing as the memory struck her.

“Oh yes - a little pinecone, wrapped in wool that you dragged around on a string because of Queen Victoria’s spaniel. Called… Dash? I think?”

“That’s what Sherlock said, yes,” Enola straightened up, a slight grin on her face. “So it’s true?”

“Yes, you were rather obsessed with the thing,” Y/N confirmed, still chuckling a little. Silence fell between them, comfortable and thoughtful.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“What were my brothers like growing up?”

Y/N thought hard before answering, her mind going back to her childhood.

“They were fun,” Y/N said at last. “They both knew that they were smarter than me, and I think that that was at least part of the reason they kept me around. Sherlock would teach me things - things that my Governess wouldn’t have thought I ought to know…” Y/N trailed off. “They were kind,” she admitted at last. “Albeit a little aloof at times, a little arrogant, they were always kind to me. I think Sherlock could tell immediately that I was unhappy with my family, and that was why they brought me to Ferndell,” Y/N confided.

“Mycroft was kind to you?” Enola asked, staring at her wide-eyed.

“He didn’t know any better until he went out into the world,” Y/N replied, smiling a little.

“I won’t let him send me to Miss Harrison’s Finishing School For Girls,” Enola stated defiantly.

“No,” Y/N agreed. “I don’t think that you should.”

///

Y/N was reading outside when the maid came to see her.

“Miss Y/L/N, there’s a Mr Holmes here to see you,” Freya spoke, her eyebrows raised just a tad in a teasing way, indicating that she thought it was a romantic house-call. Y/N frowned in return.

“Mr Holmes?” She repeated. “Not Enola?”

“If it’s Enola then she’s certainly changed a lot since I last saw her,” Freya said. “Mr Holmes is in the drawing room.”

Y/N closed her book and stood, following the maid inside, through the house and into the drawing room. She pushed the door open, still confused as to why either of the Holmes brothers would feel the need to make a house call to see her.

Sherlock was standing in the drawing room, his back to her as he stared at the painting hanging above the fireplace. She closed the door as quietly as she could, but the soft sound caught the attention of the detective anyway. Sherlock turned and offered her an unsure, gentle smile.

“Good morning, Mr Holmes,” Y/N said, bowing her head just slightly towards him. She thought she saw Sherlock’s smile falter just a tad before he returned her greeting. “What can I help you with?”

“I’m afraid I bring some bad news,” Sherlock said, walking away from the fireplace. Y/N stepped further into the room and indicated a chair. “Thank you,” he said as he sat down, Y/N seating herself in the armchair across from him. “Enola has run away.”

“Is that really all that surprising?” Y/N sighed, though his words did immediately cause her to worry for the young girl.

“Were you aware of what she was planning?” Sherlock asked.

“No. It just doesn’t surprise me.”

Sherlock looked at her for a long moment, seemingly analyzing her expression and finally he gave a slow nod of his head.

“So I take it that she hasn’t contacted you at all?” He asked.

“I haven’t heard from her since yesterday when I left Ferndell,” Y/N confirmed, attempting to keep her features as neutral as possible.

Sherlock frowned at her, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“Even if she had, you wouldn’t tell me, would you?”

“No,” Y/N admitted, shrugging her shoulders. “But you can’t blame me for that. We both know that Finishing School is not where Enola’s time would be best spent. Besides, from what she told me Miss Harrison seems a foul woman.”

She thought she saw Sherlock’s lips twitch as though he wanted to smile, but then he schooled his expression into one of neutrality again.

“You know, there was a time when you would tell me everything,” he reminded her.

“And there was a time that you found me utterly insufferable for that,” Y/N countered, her words sounding like she was spitting venom at him.

“I never found you insufferable,” Sherlock said, a chuckle in his voice.

“Is that so?” Y/N mused, quirking her eyebrow at him.

“Perhaps a little slow at times, but I wouldn’t take that personally,” she hated how teasing he sounded, as though nothing had changed since he left. Sherlock clearly picked up on the anger festering in the pit of her stomach and spoke again before she had time to lash out. “But I never found you insufferable.”

Y/N made a noise conveying how unconvinced she was by his words and she stood from the chair.

“If that’s all…”

Sherlock’s eyes flashed with something similar to disappointment before he, too, stood and adjusted his suit jacket slightly.

“Yes… that’s all,” he said. “I thank you for your time.”

Y/N nodded and watched as Sherlock crossed the room to stand in front of the door, reaching out a hand towards the doorknob. Before he could turn it, though, Y/N was hit by a sudden wave of concern.

“Mr Holmes?”

The man paused and looked back at her over his shoulder at her.

“You… if you find her, or here anything… could you let me know? She’s only young… I worry about her.”

Sherlock bowed his head in a sign of consent.

“I will keep you updated, I promise.”

“Thank you… Sherlock.”

Just as Sherlock had promised, he kept her updated on the situation with Enola as best as he could and she received letters from him every other day, even if he had found no new leads.

On the days that he had nothing new to report, his letters were filled with updates about his own life, general musings, his theories about both Enola’s whereabouts and other, unofficial cases that had caught his eye.

In short, they were the most un-Sherlock-like letters that Y/N could have ever imagined receiving and every time the post came she felt her heart lift in hope that there would be another one for her.

The only letter that Y/N had replied to, however, was one dated about a week and a half after Enola’s disappearance, in which Sherlock told her that he had asked Mycroft to pass over his duties and to make Enola his ward, filing Y/N in on the details about what had happened with Enola and the case of the missing Maquis. Sherlock had also let her know that he had attempted to make contact with his sister via newspaper and that she had indeed come to the meeting spot but had been disguised.

From the tone of that letter, it had been clear to Y/N that Sherlock truly cared for his younger sister, and that he knew that she would be capable of taking care of herself despite the worry that he so clearly felt over her.

After having received a response from Y/N after that letter, Sherlock had implored her to keep replying, but Y/N had not. She was afraid of falling into the same trap that she had when they were kids - of allowing herself to get too close to him, to feel something for him, when it was never going to go anywhere.

Y/N had allowed her heart to be broken by Sherlock Holmes once before, when she was too young to truly understand matters of the heart. She wasn’t going to do it again.

About a week after receiving the letter recounting the tale of Enola and Tewkesbury, however, Y/N got another surprise in the post. A letter from Enola herself, detailing Y/N with much of the same information that had already been given to her by Sherlock, though with more detail and far more reassurance that she truly was safe and secure and comfortable in her newfound lodgings in London.

In the final paragraph of the letter, there was a plea from Enola, imploring Y/N to go and visit her in London - she had attached a date for the following week and the address of a cafe that she said she thought Y/N would appreciate.

And so Y/N found herself boarding a train the next week, ready to meet Enola in London, agreeing to stay with her for a couple of days so that they could properly catch up.

Just as she was settling into the carriage, the train about to leave the station, the door slid open again and a familiar face appeared.

“May I join you?” Sherlock asked, a somewhat nervous smile on his face. Y/N returned it and nodded her head.

“Of course,” Sherlock entered into the compartment, closing the door behind him and placing his bag onto the overhead luggage rack and taking the seat opposite her. “I wasn’t aware that you were back here?”

“Only for a night - Mycroft demanded my help,” Sherlock explained. “I thought about visiting you, but I was unsure of how much it would be appreciated,” he added. Y/N bowed her head a little, finding herself unable to maintain eye contact with him. “You didn’t reply to my letters.”

“Yes I did.”

Y/N risked a glance up and saw Sherlock’s lips quirk a little, holding back a smile.

“I apologise - you replied to only one of my letters.”

“That’s one more than you replied to of mine,” Y/N pointed out, raising her eyebrows challengingly. Sherlock didn’t even attempt to keep his smile at bay, grinning at her in the familiar cheeky way that Y/N remembered from their childhood.

“I wasn’t aware of how good you were at bearing grudges,” he mused, leaning back in his seat.

“Well perhaps if you’d come to visit you would have realised,” Y/N muttered, opening her bag that rested on the chair beside her and pulled out the book she was reading.

Before she could open it, though, Sherlock’s hand pressed down on the cover, preventing her from doing so.

“I'm sorry, Y/N,” he whispered and when Y/N met his eyes again they were so filled with genuine apology and concern.

“I wasn’t aware that you knew what an apology was,” but she smiled a little, seeing how Sherlock’s eyes brightened

“Well I’ve been attempting to catch up on them as of late.”

“Enola?”

“I have yet to find her to give her one,” Sherlock confessed, leaning back at last. “You’re going down to see her, aren’t you?”

Y/N knew there was no point in denying it, Sherlock was always capable of telling when people were lying. He had always been particularly quick at picking up on Y/N’s lies as well when they were children.

“Yes - she wrote inviting me down last week,” Sherlock nodded slowly.

“Would you… would you let me know that she’s safe - that her lodgings are comfortable?”

“I’ll let her know you asked,” Y/N said instead, her voice quiet and full of understanding.

“Thank you,” Sherlock swallowed hard.

Silence fell between them. The most comfortable silence that had existed between them since their reunion.

“I did miss you, you know.”

“I’m sorry?”

“When I left home - I did miss you. I know you think I didn’t, and it’s understandable, but I did,” Sherlock confessed.

“Why didn’t you reply?” Y/N asked and she hated the desperation in her voice, the plea to understand why so many years had passed in silence. “Why didn’t you come and visit?”

“I don’t have a good reason for why I did - or didn’t - do any of it. And I’m so sorry,” Sherlock sighed but Y/N frowned at him, noticing how his gaze briefly dropped her own as he spoke, how his fingers fidgeted slightly on his lap.

“I know you’re the detective of the two of us, but I know when you lie, Sherlock Holmes,” Y/N didn’t know what made her do it, but she lent forwards and grabbed one of his hands between her own. “Tell me the truth, Sherlock.”

Sherlock studied her hard for a long minute, his eyes sweeping across her face, taking in every inch of her features and there was an emotion that Y/N couldn’t quite place lingering in his eyes.

“Mycroft used to… make fun of me, when we were children. Because he knew how I… how I felt about you. I’ve never quite… understood why he did, he always liked you, even if he never admitted it, but I hated it. I hated Mycroft making fun of me, it made me feel like he was smarter than me…” Sherlock’s cheeks reddened. “I did not mean for that to sound as conceited as it did.”

“To be fair, you were quite a conceited child,” Y/N teased, squeezing his hand and Sherlock chuckled. “But… what do you mean, how you felt about me?”

“You really want me to spell it out for you?” Sherlock asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“You said it yourself, I always was a little slow,” she grinned, “at least compared to you.”

Her heart was pounding out of her chest, she could barely breathe from the excitement at the idea that Sherlock was hinting at what she thought he was.

“You have to know by now that you are the only woman who I have ever held a place for in my heart.” He paused, shrugging his shoulders bashfully. “Or you were.”

“Enola?”

“Of course,” he confirmed. He lifted her hand tentatively up, pressing his lips gently against the back of it, keeping his gaze lowered. “I just hope that you know you never left it.”

The rest of the journey passed in a blur, the two of them having the final catch up that had been missing for so many years, everything feeling as though it was falling back into place, just like everything had been when they were kids.

By the time the train pulled into the station at London, Y/N had no desire to say goodbye to Sherlock Holmes, and by the way he loitered with her on the platform, it appeared that the sentiment was returned.

“Where are you headed?” Sherlock inquired. “I know Enola wouldn’t want you to tell me her address, but…”

“I’m actually meeting her at a cafe,” Y/N told him, adjusting her grip on her bag and smiling at him.

“In that case… would you allow me to escort you? London can be rather confusing at times, especially for those used to the country lifestyle,” he suggested and if Y/N didn’t know any better, she would have thought he was blushing a little in embarrassment.

“I would appreciate that yes, thank you Sherlock,” she agreed and Sherlock offered her his arm.

Enola did not seem overly surprised at Sherlock’s presence beside Y/N. There was a slight raise of her eyebrows, a knowing smile on her face and a gleam of amusement in her eyes as she walked over to them, her arms laden with a bunch of yellow roses.

“It’s so wonderful to see you again,” she said, completely bypassing her brother and embracing Y/N as carefully as she could with the flowers in her hands.

“I was so happy to hear from you, I was so worried about you,” Y/N told her, pulling away and examining her surrogate sister for any trace of hurt.

“I promise I’m fine,” Enola laughed, holding out the flowers for her. “I bought these for you, though.”

“They’re beautiful, thank you.”

Enola’s eyes slid over to Sherlock at last, who was standing awkwardly to the side. Y/N could sense how his own gaze was flicking continuously between herself and his sister, clearly overjoyed at seeing her again but also wanting to continue the conversation he and Y/N had been holding on the train.

“It’s more of an apology, actually,” Enola mused. “I’m afraid that something has come up and my assistance is required… elsewhere. Perhaps Sherlock would take my place?” She raised her eyebrows at her brother.

“I-uh-”

“Fantastic!” Enola cheered, hugging Y/N once more and giving a nod to her brother before rushing away.

“Did your sister just set us up?” Y/N asked, turning to face the younger Holmes brother.

“I think so,” Sherlock confirmed. “For what it’s worth, she hasn’t gone far, I believe she has every intention of snooping on us.”

Y/N laughed at that piece of knowledge, rolling her eyes affectionately at Enola’s antics before placing her hand once more in Sherlock’s arm. He reached across her to take her bag to allow her to hold the flowers.

“Well we wouldn’t want to disappoint her, now would we?” Y/N said, nodding towards the door to the cafe, not missing the affectionate smile it brought to Sherlock’s face.

As he held the door open for her, Y/N reached up onto her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

#Sherlock Holmes #sherlock holmes fanfiction #sherlock holmes imagine #henry!sherlock #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes fluff #sherlock holmes x you #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x reader #enola holmes #enola holmes fanfiction #courts writings

1K notes · View notes

cherienymphe · 4 years ago

Note

Ok, it’s would be interesting af to hear Peters POV from Serpentine.

Peter leaned against the castle, watching you play with the children. Their parents were far too preoccupied with whatever they deemed more important, so the children had flocked to you, and you were more than happy to entertain them. A soft breeze ruffled his dark hair, and he felt a smirk dance along his lips.

You were going to be a wonderful mother.

There was never any doubt in Peter’s mind, but it was nice to have confirmation. You were kind and loving and trusting. That last thought left a bit of a sour taste on his tongue, and he glanced away with a clenched jaw.

Your trusting nature was what allowed prince Loki to take advantage of you like he had. The knowledge that the green eyed prince had had you first weighed on his mind constantly. Yes, Peter was jealous. He had loved you all his life so how could he not be? But it was more than that.

The other prince had broken your heart. He had betrayed your trust so badly that you had been sobbing at Peter’s feet, begging him to help you. He had never seen you so broken and helpless before, and he hated it. It was unlike you, and he would forever hate that snake for reducing you to such a state.

He pushed away from the wall, approaching your oblivious form. The children noticed him before you, and they all bowed, waving to him with wide smiles. When you followed their excited gazes, your own eyes had dimmed considerably, and Peter resisted the urge to sigh.

“It is getting rather late. Retire with me?”

The children awed as he offered you his hand, some of them pretending to gag despite the fact that the two of you were engaged now. Reluctantly, you laid your hand in his, waving goodbye to the kids as he pulled you away.

He could hardly keep his eyes off of you as he led you back to your chambers. It was not proper, but who was going to stop him? His parents were just happy that he had finally chosen to settle down, and with a woman they knew and loved.

You were quiet as you went inside, breezing through his receiving chamber before making your way to his bedchamber. He continued to watch you as you leaned against the balcony windows, something you had done numerous times. You were no stranger to his room, but it was different now. He no longer just had you as a friend, but also as the woman he had loved his entire life.

“You cannot hate me forever,” he eventually said.

You did not respond right away, and Peter shut the door behind him.

“I can try,” you murmured.

“Y/N,” he sighed.

“You were my friend...”

Your voice was thick, and he did not need to look at you to know that there were tears in your eyes.

“I trusted you with my life. I never thought ill of you, even when my mother tried to warn me, I defended you,” you spun around to face him. “...and you proved her right...and me wrong.”

Peter felt anger flare within him, and he neared you.

“I have done nothing but protect you our entire lives. No matter what purpose my parents think I serve, that has always been my purpose. To love you and look out for you, and that is what I did,” he sneered.

You looked away from him, tears slipping down your cheeks. Peter felt his heart clench, that same desperation filling him as it did that day in the woods. The day you had finally agreed to be his.

“Why won’t you love me?”

You looked down, stumbling back at the way his voice rose.

“I have done nothing but love you! All of our lives!”

He rushed towards you, but you were not quick enough, and his hands were on your arms. He shook you, and you sobbed, flinching away from him.

“That is all I have done and all I have asked for in return,” he whispered, his chest burning.

Again, you said nothing, and Peter frowned. He had wanted you from the first moment you met, he just did not know what it was then, too young to understand. All he knew then was that you were so pretty, like a doll, and while Peter had never had any interest in dolls before, he wanted you for his own.

You had grown up together, hurdling through every stage of life together. You had done just about everything together, and he had protected you every step of the way. Hurting you was the last thing he ever wanted, but it seemed that he had to in order to get you where he wanted you.

You flinched when he brushed his fingers against your cheek, and he slowly leaned in to press his lips to yours. You did not kiss him back, and that was fine, because he knew that one day you would.

“I will not rest until you love me...”

His fingers danced along your shoulders, traveling down your arms.

“...and love me you will.”

#drabbles

179 notes · View notes

gins-potter · 3 years ago

Text

Casting Thoughts

Yes, I did a long post when the rumours first dropped but hey now it’s confirmed plus we have characters descriptions, and I’m bored so let’s do this all over again people. Under the cut because it got long

Sisi Stringer as Rose Hathaway

I said this in my other post but I’m pretty happy with Sisi as Rose.

Visually I think she’s a great fit, I love that they casted a WoC in the main role, and I think if she can bring Rose’s humour and sarcasm to the role, she’s going to do great.

The character description mentions Rose being “fiery and outspoken”, happy to jump into the action, and the strongest fighter in her class but struggling to toe the line, which is all very Rose-esque, especially in the first book. It sounds to me like they have a good grasp on her character.

I’m a little disappointed we didn’t hear more about Rose as a character since she is the lead - it felt like the descriptions for Lissa and Dimitri both gave us a little more to go on - but it is only a very preliminary description so I’m happy to wait for more.

Daniela Nieves as Lissa Dragomir

Daniele is another one who I was happy with straight away.

She’s probably not what I imagined for Lissa visually but that’s not a bad thing either; I will be interested to see if they dye her hair a lighter colour (like a caramel-blonde) but personally that’s not something I need to see for her to be a great fit for Lissa.

I think she has a very sweet face which works well for a character like Lissa but I think she’s also going to be able to stand up in Lissa’s more fiercer moments which is nice to see as well.

The character descriptions mentions her as being “carefree and kind-hearted” who “coasts” through life until a death in the family thrusts her into a new role. That sounds a lot like pre-series Lissa so I wonder if we’re going to see a bit of that in the show before Andre (and her parents??) die and see that change.

It’s curious though that she’s described as the younger sister of the heir apparent - which would be Andre - so it sounds like they’ve changed it so Andre was supposed to be King. Obviously a deviation from the books but I don’t hate it? I don’t think it would change Lissa’s arc all that much because obviously she was always going to grow up to be an influential royal figure, this just slightly changes the dynamics of it.

The description also specifically mentions that she’s uninterested in “political machinations” and the “hypocrisy of the moroi royal society” which sounds very accurate to book!lissa as well.

All in all I’m very happy with what they’re doing with Lissa.

Keiron Moore as Dimitri Belikov

This is one who’s really grown on me since the rumoured cast list started circulating. At first I was kind of eh about him but I can really see him as Dimitri now.

I will be curious to see if he grows out his hair or not though.

As far as I know Keiron is not Russian, there’s not a lot about him online, but there’s some instagram activity on his account linking him to UK based companies so that would be my guess as to where he’s from. They’ve kept Dimitri’s incredibly Russian name so I guess we’re to assume Keiron might be doing an accent and they’re keeping Dimitri’s backstory relatively the same? I’m not gonna be super mad if they change it just because I think it’s doable for him not to be Russian (I know, I know a whole book is set in Russia but lbr here they could make him from anywhere and just send Rose there in that book).

The biggest thing for me will be his chemistry with Sisi, Danila and Zoey had great chemistry (imo anyway) which saved the move a little for me, so it’ll be important that Sisi and Keiron do as well. They’ve interacted a few times online which is cute so I’m hoping they were able to do some chemistry reads and that will translate on screen.

The character description mentions Dimitri as being “lethal, disciplined, discreet, and totally committed” as well as living by “a deep moral code” but with more going on “beneath his stoic, watchful surface” which sounds exactly like book!Dimitri to me.

They don’t really specify what his role at St Vlad’s is going to be but they do mention that he is a guardian so I’m assuming they’re keeping some sort of age gap between him and Rose. They also don’t mention anything about their relationship in the description, be it student/teacher, platonic, romantic, whatever, but they do say he has “an expansive spirit that could threaten to expose the underlying tension between his sense of what’s right and his formal duty to the Moroi.” which seems like a nod to their relationship.

Andre Dae-Kim as Christian Ozera

This was one of my favourite casting choices from the original rumoured cast list and I still love it.

The idea of a non-white Christian makes a lot of sense to me and I think Andre could do a great job of Christian’s aloofness (in the first book) as well as his sarcasm and growing confidence across the other books.

His character description confuses me a bit though: “Intelligent and thoughtful, Christian is the pariah of the school and royal court, due to his parents’ unforgivable societal sins.” sounds accurate enough to the book (although idk if thoughtful is quite the word I’d use for Christian - maybe they mean it in the sense that he’s quiet and keeps to himself?).

Even “Well-read and hungry for knowledge” doesn’t sound that far off, idk if he was *that* particularly studious in the books, but it doesn’t necessarily not make sense either you know?

But “he searches for faith-based answers and discovers a kindred spirit who is also looking for the truth” ??? My cynical, irreverent asshole Christian is now a man of faith? I’m assuming Lissa is the “kindred spirit” (again weird word choice but maybe they mean she’s feeling lost because of the death of her family?) but I just cannot see Christian as being particularly religious.

I’m trying to keep an open mind about these changes because you never know they might play out totally different on screen, but I really hope they didn’t make these changes, particularly that Christian is studious and religious, just because they cast an Asian actor as him (because they feel a little like Asian stereotypes).

J August Richards as Victor Dashkov

This is one that didn’t appear on the original rumoured cast list (as far as I saw) and it’s so different to his description in the books that I kind of don’t have an opinion about it as a casting choice.

I’ve never seen him in anything before so purely on a visual level I think he could be a great fit for Victor, I just think it’ll really come down to how he plays it.

As for this character description: “Victor is a Moroi noble vampire with a heart of gold who’s highly regarded for his role as advisor and political strategist to Moroi dignitaries.” as well as mentioning that he has intelligence and influence, sounds pretty accurate to the book. Obviously if Andre was the heir to the throne, Victor had to be shifted out of that role, but I think his book 1 arc could still work if they wanted it to.

The “heart of gold” bit obviously made me chuckle and I really hope they threw it in there as a kind of decoy to throw non-book-readers off the fact that he’s actually the villain in book 1/s1.

As for giving him a husband and two daughters, my thoughts are: why the fuck not? He didn’t have a love interest in the original books and I’m always down for more lgbtq+ rep. My only concern is it maybe playing into the trope of evil/villain characters being queer-coded. And as for having two daughters, well as long as one of them is Natalie I don’t mind.

Anita-Joy Uwajeh as Tatiana Vogel

Okay this is the most bizarre one imo, not because of the casting, but just the character description.

I mean “Tatiana is a Moroi vampire and political underdog who slowly takes the royal court by storm. Motivated by love and a sense of justice, Tatiana has a unique skill of making herself seem of no consequence until we realize much too late that she was always the one to watch.” sounds extremely Tasha Ozera to me, so like why not just make this character Tasha? Nothing about this sounds like Tatiana, and Tatiana wasn’t even a Vogel anyway (well Vogel wasn’t even one of the 12 royal families), she was an Ivashkov.

In terms of Anita-Joy herself, well I mean we don’t really have a character to compare her to, is she supposed to be more like Tasha or Tatiana? She looks fairly young, so my guess is actually on Tasha, but we’ll have to wait to see I guess.

Mia McKenna-Bruce as Mia Karp

This is another one that I was instantly a fan of.

I was so not a fan of Mia’s casting in the movie (I can’t even remember who played her tbh but I really didn’t like it) so this Mia is a lot closer to how I imagine her.

I think she’ll be able to carry Mia’s transformation from bratty social-climber to badass fighter really well.

The character description is interesting though. “Witty, cutting, and just the right kind of ruthless when necessary, non-Royal Mia has a long-term plan to social climb her way into the ranks of royalty, with all the privilege and freedom that entails.” sound pretty bang on to Mia in the first book.

“A plan complicated by her instant chemistry with Meredith, a Guardian-in-training, as Mia struggles to reconcile her attraction to Meredith with her lowly status.” is an obvious deviation though, and one I kind of love??? Give me all the queer rep, and if we get to see Mia confront the issue of comp-het I’m so here for it.

It’s kind of funny though because I’ve seen theories that Meredith is a replacement for Eddie and Mia/Eddie has always been my sort of rarepair ship.

The last name Karp is weird af though. Is she supposed to be Sonya’s daughter? And if that’s the case I wonder if we’re going to actually see Sonya turn Strigoi in the show’s first season or something and that triggers the change in Mia? Interesting concept but I’m not sure how the timeline will work.

Rhian Blundell as Meredith

So this is another new one, and tbh I hadn’t given Meredith *that* much though in the past but she’s probably close to how I would have pictured her which is cool.

The elephant in the room with this casting is that Meredith’s role in the books was relatively minor - she was just kind of that character that got brought up whenever R.M needed a dhampir who wasn’t Rose/Dimitri/Mason/Eddie. So clearly she’s going to have a bigger role in the tv show which I don’t mind but I do wonder if we’re going to lose a character - probably Eddie lbr - in order to have her. They haven’t casted an Eddie yet as far as we know, but I have seen it pointed out that Eddie’s role in book 1 was pretty small so maybe they just aren’t announcing it. But there’s also the possibility that maybe Meredith will sort of replace Eddie and be the third part of Rose and Mason’s friendship.

I’m very interested by this part of her character description though, “She has little patience for Rose’s volatility or Mia’s elitism, and regularly calls both of them out.”

Jonetta Kaiser as Sonya Karp

I don’t necessarily dislike Jonetta as Sonya but I am confused by this choice. She looks fairly young, which tbf Sonya was young-ish I guess, but if Mia is supposed to be her daughter she doesn’t look old enough to have a teenaged daughter. So maybe Sonya and Mia are sisters? Cousins? Just have each other’s last names for no reason? I really don’t know. They also look nothing alike.

Other than that, I don’t really have an opinion about Jonetta as Sonya. Obviously looks nothing like how Sonya was described but that’s not new nor a massive concern for me.

I can’t really tell just from looking at her, and I haven’t seen her in anything, if she would play a good Sonya. I think with a lot of the characters it’s going to come down to the personality they bring to the part and the writing.

I looooooove her character description though: “Quiet, careful and decidedly odd, Sonya is not of royal bloodline and sits out on the fringe of Moroi society, preferring to spend her time in the library or her gardens. Not a person who likes a scene, nonetheless she has a quiet but profound power of her own. She is taken by surprise when a Dhampir Guardian named Mikhail shows interest in her, a relationship that will expose both the brightest and darkest parts of her heart.” It’s everything I would probably want from a description of Sonya and I’m more and more convinced that we’re going to see Sonya’s descent into madness and transformation into a Strigoi play out in maybe the first season which I am so curious how they’re going to work into the timeline.

Andrew Liner as Mason Ashford

Our last one and another one who doesn’t look remotely like his description but again? Not a surprise and not a problem for me. He looks like he could play Mason’s goofiness really well as well as be a solid contender for a love interest for Rose.

“Charming, loyal and popular, Mason is Rose’s main competition in the quest to become the No. 1 Guardian-in-training. Though their relationship is casual on her side, he is hopeful she will finally look at him and see him as something more.” His character description makes a lot of sense, maybe him being Rose’s main competition is a bit of a deviation? But I think that’s more an indication that he’s supposed to be a strong fighter which isn’t inaccurate to the books. The rest sounds great.

Other Thoughts

Descriptions of the show specifically mention friendship and classism as major themes which I am very happy to hear about because those are the two parts of VA that I love the most.

Am a little more worried about it being described as “sexy” though, if they shove a whole bunch of meaningless sex scenes in it just because it’s a YA show I’m not gonna be happy.

Seen the show compared to “Game of Thrones” and “Bridgerton” which at first had me like oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck not good not good not good. But thinking about it more and trying to understand where Plec’s coming from with that description I wonder if means similar to GoT as in the cut-throat nature of the Moroi/Dhampir society cause I can kind of see that. And as for Bridgerton I wonder if she’s referring to the kind of social-climbing aspects of it, because again that makes sense and it seems like a theme she really wants to concentrate on. I hope that’s what she means by those comparisons, or that she just wants to compare it to popular shows to get people to watch it. The worst would be if she tries to throw in a lot of unnecessary sex scenes to make it like those shows, because I hate when they do that, especially when the characters are teenagers.

Interesting to hear that Plec has known about the series since before Twilight or TVD - not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

Seems like it’s actually mostly (or all??) written by Marguerite MacIntyre which is interesting because I know people were worried about Julie Plec - I’ve never watched anything by either of them so I’m neutral at this point.

#wow this took me most of the day to write so i got absolutely no uni work done #oh well #worth it #vampire academy #va #va tv show #rose hathaway #dimitri belikov #lissa dragomir #mason ashford #meredith (va)#mia rinaldi #sonya karp #christian ozera #respond to this and tell me your thoughts cause i want to hear what everyone things #*thinks #keep things respectful tho guys

54 notes · View notes

pla-teau · 4 years ago

Text

WANDAVISION EPISODE EIGHT THOUGHTS

GIF NOT MINE

HOLY SHIT THIS EPISODE TORE ME TO SHREDS & IT’S VISUALLY MY FAVORITE EPISODE.

hayward fucking lied | that manipulative weasel tried to pin all this on wanda to make her look like the bad guy and at the end she did absolutely nothing wrong except maybe cost them new windows. i believe hayward knew that wanda was going to be the power source to bring vision back to life. he hinted at it and i think he tried to push her at SWORD headquarters. when the hex happened, he put the missile on the drone knowing damn well wanda would stop it. he knew that after he detected that she created a copy of vision within the hex, she was the key to completing their rebuilding of vision. overall, my hatred for the man has reached a new level and i hope he dies at the end of the series.

white vision | obviously referring to project catarract that darcy found in SWORD’s hardrive. when i said i wanted white vision to appear, i didn’t mean this way and i’ve seen some theories floating around that maybe james spader will voice this vision? and if this is the big secret actor paul has been saying he’s going to work with — i will laugh and cry because i am one of those who was thinking we’d get an x-men cameo with either professor x or magneto and i’m gonna hold out hope. if it is just vision vs. vision, i don’t doubt i’ll love it. so excited to see this vision though it’ll hurt to see vision battle wanda since this whole episode just showed us how much they loved each other.

wanda and vision’s relationship | we got to see a very sweet and deep moment between the two in the avengers compounds after age of ultron. when i tell you i damn near cried into my pillow, it made my heart ache. they really are fucking soulmates. i didn’t originally care for the couple but this show really showcased how despite being the pairing of a witch and an android, there is still so much LOVE between these two. i broke when i saw the deed to the lot and vision’s note of growing old together. excuse me marvel i didn’t ask to be emotionally obliterated, thanks.

wanda’s chaos magic | clearly, we see that wanda is responsible for the creation of the hex. i think she didn’t purposely block out her creating the hex. when she said she doesn’t know how it happened, she truly doesn’t. we’ve seen her lose control once and that was after the death of pietro but it wasn’t as strong before. i believe she just blacked out a bit since she hasn’t used that much of her power before. i think with literally no one (where tf was clint? the avengers?? literally anyone????) there to help her grieve and basically keep her grounded, the wave, referring to her powers, did drown her this time and consumed her into this escapist reality where she no longer felt that pain.

wanda & sitcoms | now we learn why the show has been in the style of various television sitcoms. she’s grown up with them since she was a little girl in sokovia - her favorite being the dick van dyke show. hello i’m soft af. even when her parents were killed and she was practically at death’s door with pietro, television was there to help her get through it. in the HYDRA base, wanda still has a television to watch and help her through the days. what this episode told us is that television is wanda’s constant. i mean this in the sense that unlike people, television has always been there for her. wanda has not had a consistent group of people around her. it’s a revolving door when it comes to the people in wanda’s life. we see her alone and almost abandoned when we see how the creation of the hex happened. television is her escape which is what television provides for everyone. that’s the purpose of television shows - give you an escape from your life because in shows like the ones that have influenced wanda’s reality, they always turn out fine by the end of the episode.

agatha’s therapy | throughout this whole thing agatha is sort of giving wanda much needed therapy even if the end goal is not in wanda’s best interest. she mentions very quick about wanda being a young witch which could coincide with the idea that wanda’s always had this sort of gene in her like pietro and other mutants (if they’re going to use her to confirm the existence of the x-gene which im dying for tbh). she has a clue from the get go as to what wanda is but until she has the full picture, she doesn’t reveal it until the end of the episode. she confirms that ‘fietro’ came from a necromancy spell sooo does that mean she’s using a dead body? he was her eyes and ears but of course, wanda didn’t give up much and that plan was foiled.

wanda resurrecting vision | we learn that wanda never stole vision and brought him back to life. because she and vision are both born from the mind stone, it’s not shocking as to her practically using the chaos magic to create a vision for herself. it also explains why vision can’t live outside the hex - he was born from it and without the chaos magic, he’ll die. also, it’s peppered throughout the episode that the two are soulmates so there’s that aspect to it as well. so she hasn’t been puppeteering a corpse - that image of dead vision stems from wanda’s trauma and mentality starting to chip away at her reality. it also proves how fucking powerful this woman is because like agatha said, she’s supposed to be a thing of myth. while she did use her magic to create/resurrect vision, he’s still his own being in a sense - she doesn’t control him completely. he has his own thoughts and perceptions. he’s aware and the fact that something of wanda’s creation can do that really just showcases the power she holds in her.

agatha’s backstory | seems that agatha’s pretty smug when she’s confronted by her coven leader. it’s pretty easy to see through (in my opinion) the pleading to her mother and the rest of her coven. also kathryn hahn is simply eating up this fucking role and i’m here for it. now we learn why she has the broach, it’s her mother’s which is sweet but seeing agatha throughout the series and in the past, seems more of a token of practically massacring her coven that day. i liked seeing that snippet of her past and it seems like she’s always been drawn to the darker and more sinister side of witchcraft.

wanda’s power | as agatha comments at the end, wanda truly doesn’t know how dangerous she can be. wanda can barely remember how the hell the westview hex happened. while yes i’m here for wanda being shown and known as the most powerful being in the mcu, it’s also worth noting that she is dangerous. at the beginning of the episode, agatha rubs her nose in about how simple a protection spell is or how she studied to get her powers to where they are today. wanda doesn’t know anything about witchcraft or spells. yes, she gained powers from the infinity stone but she was made to be a weapon and even after being brought into the avengers, she wasn’t taught magic or how to tap into her chaos magic. she didn’t even know that her power was considered magic. i also think wanda’s powers are very much rooted in her emotions. we saw what she could do in age of ultron when she felt her twin die. wanda is powerful but so dangerous in this aspect. not saying that this is a bad thing but it separates wanda from other magic users like agatha, dr. strange and even loki. agatha has had years of knowledge and training to be as powerful as she is now. what separates wanda from the others is that she doesn’t have the control and mastery like them. she didn’t know that her powers could make another vision or alter the reality of a town populated by 3,000+ people. agatha is right, wanda is dangerous because she hasn’t had years to control the power she holds at her fingertips.

#wandavision #wandavision spoilers #scar’s theories #scar tries to piece together what she can each week #wanda maximoff #vision #agatha harkness #tyler hayward #tyler haydick is what he is on his birth certificate #marvel #mcu

72 notes · View notes

paper-n-ashes · 3 years ago

Text

sparks and embers - chapter 3

Characters: Poe Dameron x Original Female Character, Kylo Ren x Original Female Character

Story Tags: Explicit (18+), Canon Compliant/Divergent (Set after TLJ), First Person POV, Love Triangle, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Porn with Plot, Hurt/Comfort, Kylo Ren hates Poe Dameron

Chapter 3 - The Return

Words: 4k

Chapter Tags/Warnings: medical descriptions and procedures, some sexual themes - mainly in the form of OC being thirsty AF

Read on AO3 or Start from the beginning

On the way back from the East village, filled with the Gossams, humans and other alien species who had similarly escaped to a simpler life, I couldn’t help but curse at myself for giving in so easily to the pleas of a good-looking stranger.

Aiding someone merely for their physical appearance? How horribly unprofessional.

The voice in the back of my mind was loud. And curiously judgemental.

It had been over a full day cycle since I’d departed the clinic, making Poe vow to remain within the confines of his bed until I had returned. I’d left him with enough food for two days of my travelling, hygiene supplies, a drip running slowly for some pain relief and range of tools for him to attempt getting BB-8 up and running, hoping he wouldn’t have any reason to struggle getting out of bed.

The thought of his still fragile femur bone breaking and splitting the artery I’d spent all my energy on mending was beyond frightening. I worried about him every minute I was awake, imagining any number of complications that would leave me a corpse to find when I arrived back.

Bleeding, clots, stroke, infection, sepsis.

It wasn’t easy to slip those thoughts from my mind in the lone starkness of the Raxus countryside. There wasn’t really anything to look at except grass and sky, nothing to distract me from the worst case scenarios.

I’d convinced some of my old patients to join my cause, promising them better medicine and equipment if I was only able to have a comm-tower to order everything I needed. It didn’t seem like lying. The comm-tower really was my only link to the rest of the galaxy, and I would have needed it fixed anyway. Only now, time seemed to be more of the essence.

After spending the night amongst the locals I had grown to be familiar with over the last few years, I’d begun the trek back with the knowledge at least one problem had been solved. Some promised spare parts, others were going to follow my path within the next day cycle to get my comm-link back online. I hadn’t divulged all the story, at least not the part about this repair job apparently being a determining factor in the fate of the galaxy.

I hadn’t pressed Poe about what that meant exactly. I was used to the Resistance and their soldiers having somewhat of a flair for the dramatic when it came to war, after healing many of their battle wounds in years past. I knew how fervently they believed in their cause - that they were the only thing standing between galaxy wide harmony and First Order dictatorship.

I understood their hope of peace in our lifetime, but I’d lost mine a long time ago. Good, bad, they were just two sides of a coin that would flip for eternity, desperately chasing power for their own reasons.

In truth, I didn’t particularly care. I just hoped to live my life somewhat free from the burden of picking a side.

Before unlocking the clinic door, my feet aching from hiking for 6 straight hours, I drew in a long breath with a silent prayer I wouldn’t be walking in to find a dead body. With a fluid motion I turned the handle and pushed the door open, my head popping in first around the entryway to where Poe’s hospital bed stood. He immediately heard the latch clicking and shot his head up to meet with my eyes.

“You’re back,” he smiled, as I noted how much colour had returned to his face during my absence.

He looked so much better.

For the first time, I found myself studying his face, my stare tracing from his strong angular jawline to his high cheekbones, the prominence of his nose, the whiskey colour of his large cheerful eyes, his tousled deep brown hair. Then I took in his wide grin, shapely pink lips curled upwards to show perfectly set white teeth.

Stars, he’s so handsome.

In the muddle of memories I’d conceived from the night of his crash I’d not recognised, at least not during the time I was struggling to keep him alive, how attractive he was. And now with his health a far better picture than the last time I’d seen him, it was all I could notice. My heart quivered through a beat as he beamed at me, soon realising his smile was more a reflection of the prospective good news I brought with my return, making it settle back into a normal rhythm.

“Hi,” I breathed, walking closer and setting my pack down at the foot of the hospital bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” he answered, “The smaller burns are almost gone, and my chest wound is closed, look!” He pulled up the grey hospital shirt I’d managed to change him into before I had to leave. This time when I saw the nakedness of his chest and abdomen I couldn’t help but stare at his softly defined muscles, all tensing during his movement. He was right, the hole below his rib now sealed, a newly-formed, pink scar in its place. The chest tube was still secured above it, now redundant.

“Gotta love bacta,” I hummed. “I can take that drain out now if you like.”

He looked at me incredulously. “You’ve just done a 30 hour round trip for me, not even sat down, and you want to dive head first into more treatment?”

“I... uh... I mean... I just wanted to help you feel better,” I stammered.

Poe shook his head, smirking. “It’s okay, I appreciate it. Really, I do. But I’m alright, the tube can wait. How about you rest for a second and tell me how the mission- I mean, trip, went?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Two days ago you were begging me to get going so I couldn’t waste any time, now you’re telling me I can take a load off?”

"Uh, yeah… Sorry about that,” he grimaced. “Having some time to think while you were gone... It made me realise everything you’d done and were doing for me - a stranger you had no reason to help." Poe took a long exhale before speaking again, his tone serious. "I was in a lot of pain, just woken up in a strange place. It’s still imperative to get a message back to the Resistance as soon as possible but... that’s not your burden to bear. I can't thank you enough for your help, but I'll try not to ask too much more of you.”

It seemed not only had his physical health improved, but logical thought and patience had returned.

I took my cue to sit on one of the opposite hospital beds, letting my feet dangle over the edge to kick my shoes off, feet pulsing with gratitude at their release. “There’s some villagers coming tomorrow,” I started. “They will hopefully have a new comm-tower up and running within the next couple of days. I told them about your droid too. There’s some spare parts in that bag.” I pointed my hand out to the satchel at Poe’s feet, glancing at the L shaped table beside his bed I’d set up. BB-8 was sitting on top of it, head and body still separated and now unbolted at separate points, wires haphazardly sticking out in different directions. Falling back into the mattress, I let out an exhausted sigh, relishing the feel of the squeaky mattress under my body.

“I really owe you. The Resistance owes you,” Poe praised after a few moments of silence, as I heard him begin to rummage through the satchel. I held back a frown, even when I knew he wouldn’t be able to catch sight of my face.

I didn’t do any of this for the Resistance.

It occurred to me then I wasn’t really sure why I’d done it at all. I had always been a sucker for those in poor predicaments, hence why I became a doctor in the first place. But the trek had nothing to do with treatment or medicine. It was purely at the behest of this pilot, who’s charming appearance in the dimmed orange light of the evening made my skin feel hot.

“So, how did a girl like you find herself in the middle of nowhere on the Outer Rim?” Poe questioned, fiddling with some of the parts.

I sat back up. “I’m not a girl. I’m 28. That’s a little too old to be called girl anymore.”

Poe chuckled, the sound of his laugh both warming and positively thrilling. “I apologise. How did a woman like you end up here?”

“I used to work on Coruscant, that’s where I started my medical training,” I explained, remembering the glittering planet I’d spent much of my young life on. “Then moved into the war relief efforts on medical frigates scattered throughout the galaxy. Treating wounded soldiers day in day out took its toll, having people constantly injured and almost dying for a war they didn’t start.” I glanced to Poe's expression, seeing a glow of understanding behind his eyes before I continued. “Plus, there were more than a few times I felt a little redundant. The medical droids they have kind of... made my treatment obsolete. I wanted to practice medicine in a place where adequate health care was rare or non-existent. I wanted to help those who were most desperate, who otherwise couldn’t afford it, those who would actually value the care of a live human doctor. So I picked a planet at random, and settled here."

The random part was an utter lie. No one had cared about Raxus since the Clone Wars, and the First Order wouldn’t make it their priority to conquer Outer Rim worlds for a while yet. It was a quiet, calm planet with countless refugees fleeing here to make peaceful new lives. They wouldn’t be concerned about old, rusty equipment, lower quality bacta or no medical droids. They would simply be happy at having a doctor within a day’s trek.

And no one would think of looking here for a Force user.

Poe studied me in quiet thought for a moment, taking in what I’d divulged. “Well, they're damn lucky, with how nicely you patched me up. You’d run circles around some of the doctors and medical droids at the Resistance base.” He grinned at me again, earnestly, another attempt to thank me for my work. I felt the pit of my stomach tense, and it wouldn’t retreat, the thought of his smile lingering in my mind even after he’d gone back to his tinkering.

It had to be because I’d been in isolation for so long, why I was reacting so strongly to the innocent smiles and compliments of a man I barely knew. I definitely wasn’t used to conversing with men so close in age to my own. Most of the local humans were older, married with children, and I rarely made conversation around any other topic than their illnesses.

“What... uh... Why were you flying over Raxus?” I asked awkwardly.

His eyebrows creased together as he looked back at me. “Raxus wasn’t my destination, but I... can’t tell you any more than that.”

“Oh…”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” he urged. “It’s just, you know, highly confidential.” He seemed apologetic, like he owed me more of an explanation.

I nodded, agreeing the less I knew about the Resistance and their missions the better. “Well, you’ll be able to get back to it in a couple of days,” I insisted, breaking the awkward silence that had lingered. “Some time and a little bit more bacta and you’ll be like new again.”

“Actually, speaking of that,” he started, an uneasy expression now settling in his features. “I was wondering when you were thinking of letting me get out of this bed.”

“Depends on the reason Poe. I’d recommend starting your formal rehab tomorrow at the absolute earliest, otherwise we can get you up and walking if you need to do something… uh… specific.” There was no hiding the waver in my voice.

He laughed, louder than he had before, the sound making it difficult for me not to blush. “Aren’t you a doctor? Why are you embarrassed for me to use the bathroom?”

“Hey!” I frowned. “I was trying to save you from being embarrassed.”

He shook his head, still chuckling. “I’m alright on that front for now. I was actually hoping to use your refresher. It’s been a few days…”

“Oh of course!” I’d cleaned him up as much as I could before I’d left, getting rid of his obliterated flight suit and helping change into the bland hospital outfit I reserved for overnighters, but even to myself the idea of a shower was enticing.

A thought flashed into my mind of steaming water hitting Poe’s sun darkened skin, trickling down his toned body as he lathered himself in soap suds.

Woah.

Okay.

That was new.

It had been such a long time since I’d felt the fire of blood rushing to the lower portion of my abdomen, insides clenching at the heat so suddenly ignited.

Poe was looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to continue. I internally shook away the incriminating thoughts before they could be conveyed on my face. “How about I get that chest tube out first? Then I can help you to the ‘fresher?”

He breathed out in relief. “That would be fantastic.”

I stepped lightly off the hospital bed, walking shoe-less over to my medical trolley to drag it back to Poe’s side. And immediately, without me asking, he sat up and began a haphazard attempt to pull off his shirt, left arm bandaged and stiff, right arm enveloped in the cast I’d made and evidently still painful to move.

In a wordless reply, I helped him pull the fabric over his head, confronted with the image of a half-naked, strikingly handsome man in front of me.

I couldn’t believe I hadn’t recognised any of his raw allure when he’d been almost stripped completely bare by my own hands on the night of his crash. It seemed bizarre I wouldn’t have noted the strong, broadness of his shoulders, his armoured chest littered deliciously with dark hair, carved abdominal muscles tensed in waiting.

I swallowed hard, hoping Poe wouldn’t register my shaking hands as I prepared the tube removal kit. Snipping the sutures around the plastic, unsteady gloved fingers pulled out the tube as smoothly as I could manage, Poe flinching slightly at the sensation. He continued to look away as I injected some bacta gel into the wound, sealing it closed with a few new sutures and placing a waterproof dressing over the site.

“All done,” I settled. “Like nothing happened at all.”

Poe looked back to me and smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. It was obvious he remained troubled by the memories of his crash, and understandably so. I’d seen the same look in many other military personnel, the attempt to put on a brave face when images of fire, blood and terror pierced their thoughts. I desperately wanted to take his mind to a brighter place. “So, ready to try walking?”

“Absolutely! Lead the way doc.”

Ugh. Eventually I would have to correct him on that.

I stepped back from the side of the bed, arms stretched in readiness for when he inevitably stumbled. “Please take it slowly. Your muscles aren’t going to be pleased with what you’re doing after over two days of bed rest.”

“Sure thing,” Poe scoffed.

Typical male.

Initially he seemed to take my direction, moving his legs slowly from under the blanket, pain now registering on his features. He swivelled himself sluggishly to let his legs fall over the side of the mattress, breathing slightly heavier to push through the discomfort.

He was leaning more on his left side, right arm hovering over his thigh. Tentatively, he slipped his left foot onto the floor and shifted his weight onto it, pushing his hand into the mattress to help himself up.

Soon he was standing in front of me for the first time since we’d met, and even amongst all the burns, bruises, dressings and bandages, he looked impossibly strong, toned muscles wrapping his form.

He noticed the timid smile form on my lips.

“Hey don’t start laughing at me. I don’t think I could handle my ego being bruised along with the rest of me.”

“Oh... I wasn’t-,” I stumbled, quietly relieved he’d misread the reason behind my smirk.

He held his hand up in protest, grinning. “I was kidding. You’re welcome to laugh at the adult sized toddler learning to walk again.”

It was difficult not to snicker at his words. “Come on,” I encouraged. “Just think of how nice that hot water will feel.”

He sighed in agreement and moved, taking a hesitant step onto the previously fractured leg. I swiftly froze with anxiety, even when the logical side of my brain told me both the break and the artery would have stabilised exponentially by now. But the emotional side, the part that remembered the rush of blood that had exploded from the wound site, nagged incessantly at me, insisting that this was a very bad idea.

My eyes were glued to Poe’s figure as he shifted his weight deliberately, muscles tensing at the trigger of pain he was likely feeling, before he made a delicate hop to move back onto his left leg.

Even that one haggard step appeared to take a lot out of him, but he seemed determined, eyebrows already wrinkled in concentration. He continued the process a few times over, my arms still poised in waiting for the foreseeable stumble as I walked backwards. I couldn’t help but hold my breath as he limped, following me out of the clinic room into the hallway that lead to my office, the ‘fresher, and my living quarters all the way at the end.

His steps became faster, more confident, when all of a sudden, his balance wavered.

Reacting quickly, I stepped forward to catch him, arms circling under his own and around his torso, hands now gripping the muscles on his back as he crashed into me. I would have stayed there for a moment, my fingertips registering the warmth radiating off his skin, until I became fully aware where his face had fallen into.

I felt Poe’s heated exhale through the cotton of my white shirt after his face had collided into my chest, directly between my breasts. The twinge in my lower abdomen occurred again, breath hitching in my throat.

He scrambled to push himself back into a standing position, my arms releasing from around him, his hands clamping around my biceps as he fought to reclaim his steadiness again.

“I am so sorry!” he blurted, his face dangerously close to mine, only a small touch of redness visible under his caramel skinned cheeks. I knew my blushing would be much more pronounced.

“It’s okay,” I breathed. “I was waiting for that to happen.”

His eyes widened.

“Not that!” I yelped. “I meant you falling! I was waiting for you to fall!”

Poe’s face illuminated into a beaming grin. “Sure you did.”

I frowned in protest, but couldn’t stop the chuckle escaping. I shifted to face the same way as him, an arm curling around his torso, angling my body under his own. “How about I help you the rest of the way?”

His hand gripped onto my shoulder, the hardened squeeze making the tensing inside me ripple even faster.

Focus Alex.

Poe let me support him as he limped down the hallway, and I desperately tried to distance myself from the thoughts that swirled in my mind at being connected so closely.

Eventually we made it into the ‘fresher, a white and grey tiled room with the large, frameless shower enclosure taking up most of the space, the only privacy a plastic curtain that could be pulled across the entire spans of the room. I’d designed it with the idea there would be enough space to assist overnighter patient’s in washing themselves, since I didn’t have a nurse to do it for me. Yet, it still gave me the ability to provide some discretion by stepping out past the other side of the curtain, ready to swoop in if I was needed.

And that’s what I’d planned for Poe, knowing he was hardly the type of patient that was going to let me do anything for him if he could help it. Guiding him to the backless shower chair, I released him to his own devices and quickly pulled the curtain across. It was more for my own concealment at this point, needing to take a moment to settle myself down, the memory of his hold still lingering on my skin.

“I’ll be right here if you need any help okay? Everything you need will be on the shelf under the shower start button.”

“Thanks Alex,” he answered, his voice huffing out as I could hear he’d already started to shimmy down his pants.

Stop imagining it Alex. Stop thinking about him naked, a metre away, behind that thin curtain.

The sound of water rushing into the tile floor pulled me back into some impression of reality. I busied myself with organising my own hygienic supplies in the mirrored cupboard, desperately trying to think of anything other than the man hidden from my view, steam swirling around his figure, water dribbling down his bare skin. From behind the screen I heard a pleasant moan leave him, obviously enjoying the hot water battering into his aching muscles for the first time in days.

And with that sound I felt a twinge between my legs, heat swelling and rippling outwards through my body.

Stars, that was... hot.

It felt so unprofessional, to be tantalized by the thought of a man, a patient, in the middle of such a basic act of human hygiene. But I couldn’t deny he was more attractive than any patient I’d ever had in my life, and the thought of ripping open the curtain so I could join him was suddenly the most tempting thing in the galaxy.

I locked my hands onto the basin that stood in front of me, trying not to be overwhelmed by the sound of Poe lathering soap between his hands, then sliding over an unseen portion of his body.

It was then I started to pace, hoping the repetitive movement would stop me ruminating over the indecent notions my mind was conjuring. Minutes ticked by too slowly as I waited for him to finish his routine, begging for the irresistible pull of craving to be released from me.

“Hey Alex?” Poe suddenly called.

“What's wrong?” I squeaked, cursing at myself for sounding so startled.

“I actually need some help.”

Oh maker, why do you do this to me?

I swallowed hard. “Y-yeah. Sure. Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he began, voice sounding a little forced. “It’s just... with my left arm still bandaged, and my right arm still in the cast, I can’t wash my hair. I know it’s a little strange, but could you help me out?”

My heart ricocheted inside my rib cage, frolicking at the thought of seeing him soaked in water, fingers raking through his dampened hair.

Come on Alex, try to keep at least one shred of professionalism.

“Sure,” I agreed, a more competent tone saturating my voice as I withheld my internal fluttering. “Make yourself… uh… decent, and I’ll open the curtain.”

I heard Poe’s movement as he reached for one of the towels hanging on the rail nearby and wrapped it around his lower body. The flowing water soon came to a stop, the sudden silence making me feel uneasy.

“Ready.”

I placed myself in front of the curtain between us, his stature only barely visible through the clouded screen. My jaw was locked as I took a deep breath through my nose, meditating in thought, frantically clawing at a sense of calm.

Then I reached towards the plastic, clenched my hand around it, and pulled.

Next Chapter

Tag list: @tlcwrites @roanniom @foxilayde @blackberries45 @hopeamarsu @caillea @princessxkenobi @leatherboundbirate @blowthatpieceofjunk @mylifeisactuallyamess @poedameronloverx @lightsinthedistancee @modernpaw @paterson-blue

Just let me know if you would like to be removed or added, no judgement!

#poe dameron #poe dameron x original female character #kylo ren #kylo ren x original female character #star wars #star wars fanfiction #adcu #adcu fanfiction

22 notes · View notes

makeste · 4 years ago

Text

BnHA Chapter 283: I'M MARY POPPINS Y’ALL

Previously on BnHA: Everyone was all, “Tomura what do you have?” and Tomura was all,” a quirk bullet!” and they were all, “NO!!” He then threw the bullet at Aizawa, who ironically actually did have a knife, and since no one bothered to say “no!!” this time he proceeded to CHOP OFF HIS OWN LEG. Just, schwoop. Lopped it right off. Didn’t even fucking care. Anyway so then Tomura was all, “you know what who even needs quirk bullets” and somehow broke free from both Deku and Ryuukyuu to go claw off Aizawa’s face. Thankfully Todoroki “I've spent the past eight chapters puttering around waiting for the coolest moment to strike” Shouto finally decided to join the fray by impaling Tomura, and everyone was all, “ahaha, classic Shouto”, and Tomura was all, “don’t worry though I’m fine”, and it seems like he really is now, since he’s finally regenerated and all his wounds have healed again! The chapter ended with Gigantomachia stampeding towards Jakku, which is super terrible, but what else is fucking new.

Today on BnHA: The Gunga kids spend a few pages standing around letting all that trauma soak in nice and deep as Machia rampages on towards Jakku. Back in the Shigaraki Wastes, the heroes regroup, which mostly consists of the remaining conscious adults tearfully being all “you kids get out of here... save yourselves...” and the kids being all “YOU JUST SIT THERE AND CHILL, DAD” and “[EXPLETIVES]” and “I’M YOUNG AND FILLED WITH RIGHTEOUS SHOUNEN RAGE”, all of which is very entertaining to me and makes me very proud. Anyway so then Tomura’s body sort of explodes a bit, and he’s all, “what”, and then it finally sinks in that he might have popped out of the toaster early, so he tries to end the fight right there and then with another round of Decay. Except that Deku counters it by SPONTANEOUSLY LEARNING HOW TO FLY, which is probably SO CONFUSING for all the non-Gran-and-Kacchan people around, which is just one of the many things I love about it. And the other things I love about it are that it’s (1) THE MOST BADASS THING EVER, and (2) just, really fucking great. So yeah. Rage, Deku, rage.

OH NO MY BABIES

don’t tell me. I’m not sure I want to know what it is they’re looking at. how many of the pros are fucking dead now ffffmg

also that is an extremely intriguing chapter title, though. 75? as in percent?? oh my god is something finally going to go fucking right for our heroes. or at least, you know, less wrong

OOOF

dammit Momo he was supposed to go to sleep! WHAT THE HELL WAS ALL OF THAT MATH FOR, THEN. did he grow bigger, or did she just somehow miscalculate the dosage, or is he finally going to go night-night halfway to Jakku?

btw Momo I’m not actually mad at you, you’re still the only one who fucking did anything at all. if anyone tries to give you shit, just look them in the eye and ask them “okay and how many things did YOU do?”, and they’ll be like, “oh shit, none”, and you’ll be all “yeah that’s what I fucking thought” because YEAH

OH MY GOD SERO ANGST

I have never seen Sero this badly shaken before. it’s somehow so shocking?? holy shit you guys, I know I’ve been saying for ages “lolo all these kids about to be traumatized af” but somehow it’s one thing to know it’s coming, and another to finally actually see it. oh god

anyway let’s just hope all of the grown-ups aren’t actually fucking dead. but based on all of the kids’ expressions, it really feels like a lot of them might be, and that’s just... ...

and they had to see it. right? is that what this is implying?? holy shit. they watched it all happen. that’s it, the rest of this arc is cancelled, please proceed directly to the emergency therapy arc right now

TOKO!!

holy shit look at the size of that rock that fell on the medical tent. and DS pulling people out of the wreckage. it really feels like everywhere you turn this arc, the intrepid young scamps of U.A.’s first year hero class are the ones out here keeping things one step from total disaster

oh shit

excuse the hell out of me young Momo but what the hell is up with this use of the word “dead” with the implied “like everyone else” hanging there at the end?? what is up with that. that’s a very bad sentence I don’t like that at ALL

and what the actual hell is this panel of FATGUM AND TAMAKI IN THE MIDDLE OF THE CARNAGE, TWO PEOPLE WHOSE NAMES I’M QUITE SURE ARE ON THIS CONTRACT OF “PEOPLE WHO AREN’T ALLOWED TO DIE” WHICH HORIKOSHI IMPLICITLY AGREED TO THE MOMENT I STARTED READING THE MANGA. BOY WHAT

JESUS MOTHER F. CHRIST

THAT’S. THAT’S, UH

OH THANK FUCK

I mean, I already knew they survived, though. so WHY AM I STILL SO FUCKING ANXIOUS. good grief

and in before Majestic fucking dies on the next page, having saved the children with his very last act. I fucking hate you Majestic, you blue-balling child-preserving magnificent wizard bastard

HE FRISBEED THEM TO SAFETY GAH

WHY COULDN’T YOU DO THAT TO MACHIA THOUGH. BUT AT LEAST HE SAVED THE BABIES. TOO BAD HE’S FUCKING DEAD hahaha sob sob sob

is anyone still alive?? did the guys who were fighting off Snoopy Sno-Cone and RD back at the mansion at least make it out in one piece??

(ETA: from here on out all of these guys shall be referred to as Schrodinger's Heroes until further notice.)

so now Mineta is questioning whether or not their Smart Momo Plan even fucking did anything, which. same, Mineta, honestly. but it must have!! right?? ????

anyway so here’s some more panels of everyone dying do you want to see them. sure. why not

can we get back to the Tomura fight now. I’ve had just about enough of this, I’d like to see some 75% business now before this turns into the most depressing chapter of all time

BOOOOOOO

goddammit. well for now my money’s on Machia collapsing just as they make it back to Jakku. so Momo’s plan does eventually work, but the League still makes it back to Tomura thus ensuring more shenanigans can take place. goddamn, lol, just when I thought the arc was nearing its climax. feels like it just fucking respawned with a full life bar

also Toga is really looking... not great. I’m so scared for whoever she ends up fighting after this. OCHAKO MY SWEET BABY GIRL PLEASE WATCH OUT

WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE

PLEASE ARREST HIM FASTER. holy fuck if you fucking screw this up and he gets rescued I SWEAR TO GOD

oh wait is he just here to provide more backstory on Gigantomachia

GO BURNIN’, YOU GOT THIS. also, gonna be honest, at this point I really would not mind if Machia did a little less living for Tomura and a bit more dying

FINALLY!!!

FKFKF Aizawa not looking too good oh god. and Deku looks like he’s about to spontaneously develop ALL OF HIS REMAINING QUIRKS JUST LIKE THAT ON THE SPOT, FUCK YOU TOMURA

oh my god DON’T GET DISTRACTED!!

Shouto’s arrival is either about to make Endeavor more useless than ever, or suddenly a whole lot LESS useless, and right now it’s up in the air and I am excited but also scared

EXCUSES EXCUSES

BLAH BLAH BLAH. “SORRY I’M LATE, I WAS SAVING PEOPLE’S LIVES,” Shouto lies through his teeth, clearly not aware that Tomura has a built in GPS and knows full well that Shouto was actually only a few feet behind Bakugou and Deku and so that explanation doesn’t fly at all. the real truth must be something so embarrassing that he’s ashamed to admit it. did you get lost. did you run into an NPC who wouldn’t let you pass until you had completed some sort of quest

THERE YOU ARE KACCHAN, I WAS WONDERING

just as enraged as Deku! it’s almost like he just witnessed his sensei chopping off his own leg and subsequently almost being murdered or something

(ETA: actually lol I think he’s mad at Deku, for taking off earlier and leaving him behind with Gran. though there’s no law that says he can’t be mad about two things at once! anyway so do you guys think that being beaten to the punch by Deku here may perhaps frustrate this young man and contribute to his decision to return the favor at some point later on in this battle, perhaps with dire consequences? hmm.)

anyway so if you all are keeping up with the math, and I think you are, it seems like just about every one of the adult pros is either down for the count (Aizawa, Gran), or recovering (Endeavor, Ryuukyuu??), or Might As Well Not Even Be There (a certain TWO OTHER PEOPLE WHO ARE STILL IN A TIME OUT AND HAD BETTER BE THINKING GOOD AND HARD ABOUT WHAT THEY’VE DONE. OR MORE PRECISELY, DID NOT DO OR EVEN ATTEMPT TO DO). anyway so all of that means that the only ones actually ready and raring to go here in Round 2 against the newly regenerated and POSSIBLY HAS HIS DECAY QUIRK BACK Shigaraki Tomura are... drum roll...!

okay but FUCK YOU GUYS though oh my god YOU’RE EVEN RUINING THE DRUM ROLL

DID YOU NOT EVEN NOTICE HIS LEG BEFORE?!?!? holy -- can I -- can I please just slap them, I --

anyway so RockLockRock looks like he has something to say here. probably going to tell Deku to take Aizawa and run, as if Deku isn’t the fucking glue holding this entire operation together at this point now that Aizawa is KOed. can you believe these guys are so incompetent they’ve actually got me arguing in favor of the child soldiers now, what even

...fuck

shit. that face. he’s ready to die to give them all a chance. he knows he wouldn’t last two seconds against Tomura and yet he’s willing to sacrifice it all. damn it RLR... okay fine your time out is done now, but I’m still calling your parents

unfortunately, you’ll never believe it, but Deku doesn’t seem all that inclined to listen to this man telling him to bail and save his own skin sob

ngl though I am living for the Enraged Vengeance Deku we’ve been seeing in these last couple chapters. maybe now everyone will stop dismissing him as just a soft boi who always eats his vegetables and doesn’t swear, and remember that in truth he’s actually a mildly unhinged feral child with an infinite pain tolerance and a god-given talent for never listening to any life-prolonging advice that adults give him ever

oop don’t tell me he’s gonna do the Decay thing again, shit

-- uh

“eh?” lmao what the fuck. my boy's torso just opened up like a fucking door hinge and all he can say is “eh.” this fucking manga

like he’s seriously just calmly standing there trying to assess what the heck has gone wrong

you really don’t feel pain do you. “haha lol what why is my arm falling off I thought I fucking ascended”

OH MY GOD

IT’S OCTOBER THIRD. looool the fuck

Tomura. my sweet little S+ ranked death machine with an A rank in knowledge. who’s spent the past 15-20 minutes battling to the death with the number one fucking hero and all his pals. who all just HAPPENED to be there all ready and waiting to fight him the instant he woke up. Tomura. buddy. did it really only just occur to you that maybe something went wrong somewhere along the line. that maybe things were not, in fact going according to keikaku. that maybe the heroes didn’t just sit around waiting for you to finish cooking in your villain bake oven. like please forgive my impudence but TOMURA ARE YOU STUPID, is what I’m saying, I guess. but gently

(ETA: SHIGARAKI TOMURA, WHOSE ARM IS CURRENTLY DANGLING BY A THREAD: “hold up lol what day is it.”)

I really like how Deku’s just crying nonstop this entire time though. but like, you know. crying with RAGE

lol and he’s figured it out as well, and I fucking love the connection his mind made, look at this

sudden feelings of solidarity. “WE’RE NOT SO DIFFERENT, YOU AND I” lmao

AHH MIRKO

how does she still have two legs?? Horikoshi I can’t believe you forgot how many legs your own favorite character has. but anyways yes this has been your friendly reminder that Mirko saved EVERYONE and should have a battleship named after her

okay NOW he’s doing the thing

good job Tomura you finally got them!! good thing none of them can fly, or Float. RIGHT, DEKU

AHAHAHAHAHA YESSSSS

YOU LOVE TO SEE IT. AND A BLACKWHIP/FLOAT COMBO, TOO! TOMURA, YOU WERE SAYING??

(ETA: he even grabbed Kacchan too. “I can fly by myself!” YOU SHUSH MISTER.)

(ETA 2: and what I also love about this is that we know the SIXQUIRKS are seemingly in tune with Deku’s emotions, so it honestly makes perfect sense that in the heat of the moment with Tomura threatening to kill all these people that he cares about, the quirk just basically acts on his instinct to save and doesn’t stop to ask questions. we’re saving everyone, no buts. and he even activates Float at long last, acting on that same instinct. honestly Kacchan had the exact right idea the whole time, all the way back in chapter 217. “it’ll activate when he’s in trouble, right?” exactly.)

NO GRAN STOP NO ONE ASKED FOR THESE FEELS

OH MY GOD

NEVER HAVE I STANNED THIS BOY SO HARD. HOT DAMN

he’s so fucking mad. omg??! omg

okay so I’m gonna try my best to explain why I love this so much lol. all right. so the thing is, it’s actually so rare for Deku to actually take the reins like this. even though he’s the main character, even though he’s All Might’s heir, his personality is such that he genuinely doesn’t mind being in the backseat and is perfectly content to share the spotlight with others, or even relinquish it completely. BnHA has had... how many arcs so far? hold up let me check

-- okay I just checked and it’s 18. so, 18 arcs. and out of all those arcs, Deku has had a solo fight in approximately... five of them. and two of those fights were against Bakugou and Todoroki, respectively, so he was still sharing the spotlight even then. aside from that, he’s fought Muscular, Gentle, and Overhaul (oh, and Shinsou, I guess). that’s it! and it’s been almost 300 chapters! and again, he’s the main character. in a shounen manga. like seriously though, that is wild

and so seeing him here like this on the last page, ready to throw hands with Tomura, presumably while using Blackwhip as some sort of physical barrier to coat his attacks and prevent Tomura from trying any more Decay shenanigans with him? dude. I FELT THAT HYPE. it’s just a really effective way of keeping me from getting Main Character Fatigue like I might get in most other shounen series. because Deku doesn’t get the spotlight all that often in comparison, it still feels fresh to me, especially now with him actually going up against the Big Bad. just, idk what else to say except “hell yeah” lol

anyway, so I don’t even know how long it’s gonna last, and I expect that Kacchan and Shouto aren’t going to be content to just sit back and let Deku have all the glory either (Kacchan in particular is probably frothing at the mouth already), so in all likelihood it’s probably going to be more of a 3-on-1 than a 1-on-1. and it’s also very likely to end with Tomura gaining the upper hand and trying to take OFA! and so in truth this is a very fleeting moment of triumph, and the most premature of celebrations! but even so... damn. and also I just love seeing shounen kids lose their damn minds and explode with angry determination. and I especially love seeing it with Deku, because I love the reminder that beneath that sweet, unassuming nerdy exterior lies a core of fucking steel. that look in his eyes, though. TOMURA ARE YOU SCARED. you should be a little scared, lmao

anyway. so that’s the chapter! and I’m really glad we ended on this note, not just because Deku is a badass, but also because like I was saying earlier, this was about as bad a situation as the good guys have ever been in, and I felt like the manga was starting to lose that feeling of hope that still needs to be there at its core even when things are at their darkest. idk, I feel like we needed this. Tomura got a chance to catch his breath in the last chapter, and now it’s the heroes’ turn. whew

#bnha 283 #midoriya izuku #shigaraki tomura #class 1-a #bakugou katsuki #todoroki shouto #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #I just wish one of the blackwhips had been kind of dangling above him like an umbrella so my gotg 2 reference would make a bit more sense #eh but you all get it right #because... you know... the flying... and stuff #bah

205 notes · View notes

supercasey · 4 years ago

Text

TMA Child Avatars AU

Alright, so ever since I listened to the episode about Agnes’s origins, I keep thinking about an AU where a bunch of the other Entities, after realizing that it’s at least possible to create an avatar from birth, perform their own rituals and make a bunch of the future Archives gang. This AU has a lot of potential for angst, but since TMA is sad enough, I’ll probably mostly focus on the world building and fluffy/funny stuff (‘cus god knows I’m a slut for that shit).

To all my followers, I’m sorry I keep making kid AUs; I got told in like 2015 or so that I sucked at writing kids and it’s Never Left My Mind, so now I always wanna make stupid AUs in order to practice writing kids better (I also have an original story I wanna write soon with a ten year old as the main character, so yeah, I need all the practice I can get).

Anyways, here’s all I’ve got on the AU this far (explanation under the cut; a very long post is up ahead):

Character Backstories

Jonathan “Jon” Sims - Apprentice Archivist of the Eye

Jon is a very complicated story, at least from everyone outside of the Eye’s gaze. It was Elias’s idea to create him, and were it not for Gertrude getting lucky, no one but Elias, Peter Lukas, and Simon Fairchild would have ever known that Jon existed until he was ready to become the next archivist. Gertrude found out by pure chance when she accepted a live statement from one very frightened Delores Sims, who told the archivist about how a strange man had been stalking her ever since she found out she was pregnant. Out of completely nowhere, her husband died a month after she conceived, and even though it looked like an accident, Delores swore that she saw an arm surrounded by fog push him down the stairs. Things only grew worse for her over the next few weeks, as in the midst of her grieving her dead husband, Delores began seeing green, glowing irises out of the corners of her eyes, watching her every move as she lived her life, which was followed by the stalker in question appearing constantly in her dreams, always watching her from afar, an unpleasant and frankly unnerving grin on his face the entire time.

Suspicious, and finding the description of the stalker all too familiar by the end of the statement, Gertrude investigated Delores’s claims on her own time, going so far as to break into Elias’s office in order to dig up more information on whatever he was up to. No matter what her theories may have been, none of them were anything like what she found in his letters to his associates. Somehow, Elias had conspired alongside the Lukas and Fairchild families to find their heirs/avatars together, and Elias was the last person to acquire one of his own. Gertrude was unsure of the details at the time (and she still unfortunately is), but from what she could gather, the child growing in Delores Sims’ body was somehow touched by the Eye because of something Elias had done, and they would be born with the perfect framework to have the powers that an archivist learns over several years of training at birth! With no time to lose, Gertrude got back into contact with Delores, and after much discussion between the two women, she convinced Delores to come to her apartment when she eventually went into labor, and to give Gertrude the baby after they were born so that she could keep them safe from Elias.

The birth was meant to be done in secret, but the second the first contraction occurred, there was a knock on Gertrude’s door, Elias waiting for her on the other side with an unhappy grimace on his face. He came armed with a gun, and threatened to murder Gertrude if she didn’t allow him to claim the child as his own. Aware she still had many rituals to stop in the near future, and that none of her assistants were experienced enough to stop them by themselves, Gertrude reluctantly agreed to let him inside, but on one condition; the child had to be shared between them. Elias was abrasive to the idea of course, but he eventually complied with his archivist’s demands, not wanting to replace her so early on in her career. The sight of her stalker coming into the bedroom to watch her give birth unfortunately sent Delores into a panic attack while she was still very much in labor, making the rest of the birth a rather dangerous thing, but the child survived, leaving his mother terrified and shaking. Gertrude had planned on letting her go on her merry way after the baby was born, but Elias wasn’t taking any chances, and he shot her as soon as he deemed it safe to.

Since then, Gertrude and Elias have had dual custody of Jonathan- the name was Gertrude’s idea, on the grounds that it was a nice, proper name for a young man- trading him back and forth every other week. It’s been hard, especially with the adults he calls his parents wanting to kill each other, but Jon’s oblivious to most of the fighting right now, assuming his folks are just going through a messy divorce.

Martin Blackwood-Lukas - Adoptive Son of Peter Lukas

Peter ended up running very behind in the whole child avatar thing (a first for his family, something Simon reminds him of on a daily basis), and he really struggled with creating a baby avatar that would actually be able to “keep up” with the other young messiahs that were coming to be. Eventually he realized that his family’s usual method would take too long, so out of desperation he went to Elias and Simon for help. It was Simon’s idea that worked; he suggested that since the normal methods weren’t working, and kids usually don’t become lonely until they’re older, that Peter should try his own summoning ritual like the Lightless Flame did with Agnes. Peter was hesitant at first, but he gave in quickly, sacrificing a number of lonely souls to his entity in a well-timed manner, until finally, he found a small, swaddled baby in the midst of the fog; a supposed gift from the Lonely for his loyalty.

Peter was delighted by this discovery, and so were his colleagues, the men relieved that their hard work had actually paid off for once. After naming the little boy Martin- it was Elias’s idea, though he didn’t have much of an exact reason for the name, simply claiming that it “suited” the child- and before long, Peter began raising his newfound son much the same as he was; in almost total isolation, save for a variety of rotating nannies and caregivers. Unfortunately for Peter, this went horribly wrong almost as soon as he got started, as by the time that Martin was six months old he had accidentally forced five different nannies into the fog out of fear of them leaving like the ones before them had. With no other options available, and being able to actually leave the fog if Martin threw anymore fits, Peter was forced to raise his son by hand, which again went wrong, but for very different reasons, as to his shock, he became quite attached to his adopted child.

This evolved into Peter having doubt of the Lonely for the first time in his life, but he refused to acknowledge it for as long as he could. But he was finally forced to when, after Martin turned five years old, the rest of the Lukas family insisted on performing a test on the child to see how well Martin could handle the fog without any guidance. He had been inside the fog before of course, with Peter holding his hand or carrying him through the dense chill, but the family wanted to isolate Martin inside for a full month. This secretly scared Peter like nothing else ever had, but out of fear of what his family might think, he didn’t say anything at the time, simply watching from afar as his son was dragged into the fog and left to fend for himself. The ritual went wrong within the first week, Martin having a full-scale breakdown and nearly hyperventilating to death, and yet the family kept him in there for another week before the intervention.

The results of the test of course disappointed the other members of the Lukas family, who suggested that they simply leave Martin to disappear into the fog and look for a new, more sufficient messiah to serve their god. The news hit Peter incredibly hard, and despite his previous inhibitions and fear, he knew he couldn’t let the Lonely consume his one and only son. So, without telling anyone of what he was up to, he ventured into the fog, rescued Martin, and fled to live with his estranged ex-husband the Magnus Institute. Since then he’s been living with Elias at his house and avoiding his family at all costs, all while young Martin has grown up alongside the other entity kids and has struggled to figure out his role in everything, but at least he has his dad on his side through all of this.

Sasha James - Chosen Daughter of the Mother of Puppets

(Note: I headcanon the Mother of Puppets as a giant spider, so that’s how I’m writing her… sorry if this is inaccurate, but I’m only on MAG 152, y’all. Besides, I think this is cool af.)

Sasha was very much planned, even more so than Agnes was so many years beforehand. The Mother of Puppets had her minions gather hundreds upon hundreds of orphaned infants and bring them to her nest. She swaddled each every one in her webbing and kept them like this for several weeks, allowing them time to adjust to the webbing and adapt. Unfortunately, most of these children weren’t cut out for the Web’s influence, and while a few indeed held their adoptive mother’s mark, almost none of them were marked deep enough to become a fully realized avatar. The unsuccessful batches were subsequently sent off to orphanages across the world and replaced with new babies, this process repeating for years and years, until finally, Sasha was born. There was nothing special about her parents, yet she not only bore The Web’s mark, she seemed to have it embedded into her very soul. This, of course, was met with celebration from the Web, and plans were quickly made as to how to raise her moving forward, as no one wanted Sasha to end up like Agnes did.

Annabelle Cane ended up being the one chosen to home Sasha for the first few years of her childhood, and she was dutiful in her new, rather honorable role, as she not only cared for the child well, but she treated Sasha as her own, though she was careful to be seen more as an older sister than a mother to the girl; that role was, of course, reserved for Sasha’s real mother. When Sasha finally turned five, the Mother of Puppets announced further plans for the young avatar, calling on Annabelle to take Sasha to the Magnus Institute and give her to one of their hidden agents there so that she could learn more about how the Web uses it’s influence over other entities. This worried Annabelle, who wanted to keep the child near her and prove that she was the most loyal of the mother’s children, but she would never disobey a direct order from the being that had given her life such meaning. So, rather reluctantly, Annabelle gave Sasha to another member of the Web, watching from the shadows as this unworthy follower took the blessed daughter into the institute for further training.

This went wrong within only a few months. Gertrude ended up finding out who the Web’s spy in the institute was, as she had suspected that another entity was trying to control her from the shadows, and after disposing of the threat and searching their home for anything useful that she could use against the Web, she found Sasha. The archivist was tempted to kill the supernatural child on sight, but while she can murder her assistants and enemies without much remorse, on the grounds that it’s always for the greater good, killing a child is a very different story. So she took Sasha in, raising the Web’s child as her own alongside the Eye’s own prodigy Jon, all while trying to help Sasha control her slowly budding powers. The Mother of Puppets has been trying to get Sasha back ever since, enraged that the child is so close to her yet just out of reach, but with no luck, though there’s no telling how long that will last.

Timothy & Daniel Stoker - Dancer and Future Ringmaster of the Stranger

Both Tim and Danny are chosen ones of the Stranger, created as soon as their god had gained enough spare power to create them. Tim was born first, being the Stranger’s first attempt at birthing an avatar that might be powerful enough to help lead the Unknowing, but Gertrude interrupted midway through the ritual. By some miracle, Tim survived the ordeal, but he was left “incomplete” to some degree, leaving him simply marked and not fully connected to the Stranger. The entity’s followers ended up keeping him around though, both because Nikola Orsinov was too fascinated by the newborn baby to give him up, and because his parents wanted him to survive, but it was agreed that another attempt would be made, this time with more planning involved. Four years later, Danny was born, and with Gertrude too preoccupied to intervene this time around (and because she didn’t realize they’d try again so soon), the ritual went much better and created a far more suitable vessel for the Stranger’s powers.

After that, Tim and Danny’s parents died, fully succumbing to the Stranger’s transformation and leaving them orphaned. Not that their presence was strictly necessary after the kids were born, as Nikola Orsinov was more than happy to take over in most of the child rearing, genuinely growing quite fond of the two boys, particularly Tim, as despite his lack of supernatural abilities, she found him to be rather endearing, which is probably the closest she can get to genuinely caring about someone. Both brothers were raised more or less the same way, save for Danny being showered with more praise and being trained as a future ringmaster while Tim was mostly ignored and trained to be a dancer. Some followers of the Stranger feared that Tim might harbor resentment towards his little brother and try to kill him someday, but to their surprise, Tim only grew more protective of him over the years, swearing to keep Danny safe as he grew up to fulfill his destiny and help their family mold the world in their image.

Eventually though, when Tim was eleven and Danny was seven, Tim realized what was actually happening behind the scenes, and not wanting his brother to risk being sacrificed for the world’s destruction, he told Danny everything, leading to the young messiah to run away with him to London (they were raised primarily in Russia, but moved with the circus a lot, and were in France at the time that they finally ran away). There, Tim found the infamous Gertrude Robinson, who he knew had the power to stop the Unknowing, as she had once saved him from becoming the Stranger’s avatar, and inadvertently led him to having a little brother. Tim and Danny have since moved in with Michael, and they visit the Magnus Institute whenever they get the chance, as both boys have grown to become friends with the other avatar kids. You’d think that the Stranger’s followers would be furious about all of this- don’t worry, many of their acolytes are- but Nikola has laughed it off entirely and keeps insisting that the boys are just having a “sleepover” or are away at “summer camp” (in fucking January, apparently).

Melanie King - Cadet of the Slaughter

Honestly, the Slaughter wasn’t as into the whole “let’s make an avatar from scratch!” thing that the other entities’ followers were doing, but hey, sometimes child avatars just kinda wind up on your doorstep, ya know? Melanie ended up being found at about four years old, sobbing on her hands and knees outside of a burning hospital and calling for her mommy and daddy to come back to her, but no one answered her cries, and she was left to weep for quite some time before someone found her. The hospital, you see, had been overrun by the Corruption and promptly burned to the ground by the Desolation, neither of which bothered to stick around for some worthless child. Melanie’s parents were both inside when the entities clashed, leaving her orphaned and scared, and while Alfred Grifter, who had been on his way to a show with his bandmates at the time that he found her, had intended on just leaving her be, he saw the overwhelming rage and blood-lust in her crying eyes, and realized in that moment that she was touched by the urge to kill, just like he was.

Melanie was promptly taken in by Alfred Grifter and the band, who honestly had no idea what the hell they were doing. On one hand, Alfred knew that keeping a kid around was unbelievably dangerous for all parties involved, but on the other, he really didn’t want to leave Melanie all by herself, for fear of what she might do if left without any guidance from “people” who knew what she was going through, at least to some degree. That isn’t to say Alfred and his bandmates were all that great at raising her- they mostly just brought her to gigs and let her play on her Gameboy backstage while they started massacres- but they did at least try to give her somewhat of a home. It wasn’t until five years into this that some other Slaughter followers found out about Melanie’s existence, to which they told Alfred to give her to them for proper training. Knowing her life would be horrible with them, Alfred gave his ward a backpack full of everything she ever owned, a kid sized guitar, her Gameboy, and sent her on the run.

Melanie was scared out of her mind at first, having grown to see Alfred and his bandmates as her new family; she had already lost her parents, so why did she have to lose the band, too!? But there were no other options, she had to run, so she did just that, attacking any adult who tried to stop her along the way. She didn’t actually know about the Magnus Institute when she made her way to London, and Alfred didn’t tell her to go there or anything, but she ended up being spotted by Adelard Dekker while she was looking for a place to stay in the area. Seeing that Melanie was an avatar of some kind, Adelard managed to convince her that he was safe, and to let him take her to someone that could help her. He brought Melanie straight to Gertrude Robinson, who agreed to house the child since Adelard couldn’t, though she ended up letting one of her unofficial assistants (*cough* Gerry *cough*) take her to live in his flat so she wouldn’t be as easy for Elias to monitor/get ahold of.

Julia Montauk & Alice “Daisy” Tonner - Children of the Hunt

(Watch as I fuck with timelines so badly that the people who keep track of this shit will order a hit on me) The Hunt found both of their avatars in strikingly similar yet different ways; Julia was first, born from the womb of another entity’s follower, but bound for so much more than anything the Dark could give her. Years after her destined birth, Julia’s mother was viciously murdered by the People’s Church when she was just five years old, her father Robert Montauk going down the path of becoming a fully-fledged Hunter, and in the process he unknowingly marked Julia with his newfound entity, which in turn unlocked an unprecedented potential inside of her, not that it was fully realized until another tragedy struck her. This next tragedy, unfortunately, claimed Julia’s father. Mr. Pitch was mistakenly summoned, and in it’s rage, it destroyed Robert while he was in the midst of a sacrifice. The monster would’ve gotten Julia next, had it not been for the intervention of a nearby Hunter.

Trevor Herbert honestly didn’t mean to get involved, but when he witnessed a little girl screaming as she ran out of a house, a giant mass of darkness chasing after her, and no one willing to so much as call the damn cops, he knew he had to rescue the poor kid. In a flash he ran over, picked Julia up, and ran away with her to safety, managing to get her in his car (which he stole, but that’s not important) and drive as far away from her old home as possible. In the aftermath, Trevor had no idea what to do with Julia, since he had never actually wanted any kids of his own, but… well, he ain’t heartless, and that monster was still out there somewhere, just waiting to sink it’s cursed teeth into this young child’s flesh. Trevor ended up keeping her after that, becoming her adoptive father as he traveled with her around the UK, slowly but surely training her to hunt the same monsters that claimed her beloved parents.

You’d think that would be the end of Trevor Herbert adopting little girls marked by the Hunt, but nope, he just can’t catch a fucking break! He found Daisy about a year later, when Julia was eight and becoming more adjusted to her new lifestyle. Again, Trevor wasn’t really planning on going on any hunts at the time that this happened, he was just traveling through the area, but upon finding a bloodied up, terrified little girl being chased by a boy who looked possessed… well, it wasn’t like Julia wasn’t lonely, and again, Trevor isn’t heartless, and he sure as hell can’t let things go. So yeah, he kidnapped another child touched by the Hunt, even though this one actually had a living parent, and once again he took to traveling the UK with his adoptive daughters, secretly reveling in his new role as a father. Daisy, while scared at first, quickly grew fond of her new family, and even fonder of her new nickname after Trevor patched up her wounds, and noticed a flower-shaped scar on her back, prompting him to start affectionately calling her Daisy.

Yep, things were going pretty good for the family of three, but of course, shit eventually caught up with Trevor, not that he thought he could avoid it forever.

The police eventually caught wind of “Trevor the Tramp” traveling with two little girls who looked an awful lot like the missing thirteen and ten year olds Julia Montauk and Alice Tonner, and in his desperation to keep from getting arrested and having his children taken away, Trevor fled to downtown London in order to lie low for awhile and raise his daughters in relative peace, only ever going out for food runs and the occasional hunt. It was through one of these hunts that he ended up meeting Gerard Keay, the two of them chasing after the same book that had been summoning shadow people to wreck havoc on the city, and after a bit of back and forth banter over the campfire that was once a Leitner, Gerry convinced Trevor to move in with him so that the girls and him would be safer and actually have a home. Although he was hesitant to accept an offer he thought was too good to be true (also, he’s not gonna lie, he thought Gerry was a vampire when they met), Trevor agreed and moved into Gerry’s flat with his daughters, and has since helped Gertrude and her assistants with monster hunts.

Oliver Banks & Georgie Barker - Fetchlings of The End

Georgie and Oliver are an odd story, with the latter of the two having gained his powers as a mere toddler, being plagued with horrible, ghastly dreams that would keep him awake through the night, leaving him absolutely haggard by morning. His father tried everything to help Oliver through this torment- counseling, medication, bedtime rituals- but nothing worked, and before long, Oliver’s beloved father was claimed by his nightmares, dying of a heart attack that he couldn’t stop. Alone and misunderstood by everyone who tried to raise him, Oliver ran away countless times, coming across Georgie during his last attempt. He found the little girl to also be on the run for similar reasons, but unlike him, she wasn’t the least bit afraid. She wasn’t exactly happy, but she wasn’t a bawling mess like he was. Together, the two of them struggled to survive, relying on kindhearted drifters for support while they avoided the police until, at long last, something took pity on them, that something being a large, fat tabby cat.

As it were, the tabby cat- dubbed The Admiral by Georgie- wasn’t a normal cat in the slightest, and although it couldn’t speak, it’s intentions were clear; it was there to help these lost, orphaned children. Oliver was skeptical of course, but Georgie wasn’t about to look a gift cat in the mouth, so Oliver reluctantly followed the cat and his little sister to an apartment building, and from there, into an unoccupied flat. Since then, the two children have been living with Admiral in that very same flat, the cat providing them with a fully stocked fridge, warm beds, and running water. It’s still unclear what the Admiral is, but he seems kind enough, and is obviously quite protective of his newfound children, accompanying them on their outings and occasional visits to the institute.

Michael Crew - Prodigy of The Vast

Out of all avatars to be raising children for their entity, Simon Fairchild absolutely has had the most fun with it all, treating it almost like a fun game or pastime. He was the first (save for the Lightless Flame having Agnes, of course) to “create” an avatar child, and from minute one he was overjoyed with the results. A few years after news broke of Agnes’ origins, and the followers of other entities were all arguing over whether or not to follow suit, Simon didn’t bother waiting for anyone’s input or permission, simply throwing himself into the deep end and praying he could make his plan work. Seemingly overnight, Simon somehow acquired a baby later identified as the missing and presumably dead infant Michael Crew, who he referred to as Mike when he finally introduced him to his friends/associates. He still hasn’t told anyone how he even got the kid- not even Peter or Elias know what he did!- but by some means, he illegally adopted Mike and took to raising the kid like a duck takes to water; a bit unsure at first, but growing to love it fast!

When Mike was introduced to the rest of the entity followers community, many were shocked (excuse the pun) to see that the infant had a long, frightening Lichtenberg scar running down his right arm, his back, and his right leg, the scars glowing a bright blue whenever he took to the sky or, as Elias learned the hard way after accidentally annoying Mike by bouncing him on his knee for too long when he was a toddler, used his powers to electrocute people. Even with his child being such an oddity, even among other avatars, Simon took it all in stride, proudly bragging about Mike to anyone who would listen, most of these people being victims of the Vast, who were hardly able to hear Simon’s excited rambling over their own shrieks of terror. He usually also insisted on bringing Mike with him, even when he was a mere infant, though he at least kept the kid in a tight harness on his chest. In all honesty, Simon being such an excited parent was what kick-started a lot of other avatars to start acquiring their own child avatars, as he made it look so easy!

However, things weren’t always perfect, especially on Mike’s end as he grew older. Being the eldest and more or less “firstborn” of this new generation of entity-made avatars put a lot of pressure on him at a very early age, pressure which Simon tried to help him deal with by not acknowledging it, which unfortunately didn’t help in the slightest. Thankfully Mike started to feel less unsure of his place in the world as he reached his teen years, seeing as the younger kids were now getting all the attention and giving him a chance to breathe. Even now that he’s an angsty teenager, Mike loves Simon like a father, referring to him as such without hesitation. This, of course, delights Simon to no end, and makes all his peers low-key high-key jealous of the awesome relationship he has with his son.

Helen Richardson - Droplet of The Spiral

Not much was known about Helen when Michael first found her. After being sent into The Spiral by Gertrude on what he thought to be a suicide mission for the greater good, Michael was half certain he wouldn’t find anything but his end in that place. Instead he found a small, strange toddler where he was meant to find… well, he didn’t actually know what, but certainly not a baby, that’s for sure! With no one watching baby Helen, and therefore making him believe that she had been abandoned by The Spiral’s other creations, Michael had no reservations against scooping her up and taking her back to the physical world with him, where he was met be a very confused Gertrude Robinson. Michael wasn’t exactly keen on killing/abandoning a baby after he got out, so he and Gertrude brought her back to London with them in hopes of finding out more about the odd child. Along the way, it became clear that the baby was gifted with The Spiral’s powers, the giggly toddler continually screwing with reality, though she wasn’t aware she was doing so.

Back home in London, it took another three weeks of research, but Gerry eventually found out more about the child Michael had more or less adopted. Her name was originally Helen Richardson, and her father, a rookie paranormal investigator who had once been marked by The Spiral, was obsessed with the distortion, and was willing to do anything to become more than simply marked by it. He ended up finding a map similar to Gertrude’s, and a few years before she even knew it was possible, the father went into The Spiral and used his own daughter as a vessel for the entity, hoping she would be a good enough sacrifice to earn it’s favor. This of course ended in disaster, with the father “disappearing” while Helen absorbed The Spiral’s power, but seeing as she was so young, it couldn’t manifest properly, even after two and a half years spent trying to “raise her” within the deepest depths of it’s domain.

With research still being done on what to do about the child, and whether or not the team can remove her powers without killing or permanently injuring her in the process, Michael has agreed to take Helen in, secretly delighted to be raising a baby. With the Stoker Brothers already under his roof, Michael has his hands rather full with them and baby Helen, but the boys take her antics in stride, having learned quickly how to deal with the apartment they live in occasionally “growing” some new doors and changing color at random. Luckily for Michael, he has back-up in the forms of Gerry and Gertrude, who occasionally take Helen and the brothers off his hands for him so he can take a break/fix whatever Helen may’ve accidentally broken with her powers.

Character Roles in this AU

(Feel free to add your own OCs/other characters if you wanna do stuff with this AU, I’m just naming characters I know about/remember!)

Avatar Kids: Jonathan “Jon” Sims, Martin Blackwood, Sasha James, Timothy “Tim” Stoker, Daniel “Danny” Stoker, Melanie King, Julia Montauk, Alice “Daisy” Tonner, Oliver Banks, Georgie Barker, Michael “Mike” Crew, and Helen Richardson.

Avatar Kids Semi-Reluctant PTA Group: Elias Bouchard, Gertrude Robinson, Peter Lukas, Gerard “Gerry” Keay, Trevor Herbert, Michael Shelley, and Simon Fairchild.

PTA Allies: Basira Hussain (Daisy’s best friend and the local Normal Child™), Agnes Montague (Everyone’s emergency number for avatar child advice), Alfred Grifter (Just shows up to hang out with Melanie and cause problems on purpose), The Admiral (Guardian to Georgie and Oliver and occasionally the other kids; best babysitter), Adelard Dekker (Comes around the archives sometimes and always brings presents for the kids + assistants), and Rosie (Elias’s assistant and the only sane and sensible adult in this Chili’s tonight).

PTA Enemies: Nikola Orsinov (Tim and Danny’s “Mom” who keeps kidnapping Jon on accident), Annabelle Cane (Hates the institute and wants Sasha back), Jude Perry (Hates the kids but loves Agnes; worst babysitter), and Jared Hopworth (Nightmare flesh man that needs to fuck off; mediocre but funny babysitter).

Character Descriptions

(Feel free to tweak the physical designs if you want; I’m just going off my own headcanons, and seeing as my drawing skills are pretty shit, it’s not like I’m gonna be doing much art for this outside of writing. So yeah, go off with your own headcanons if you want to!)

Full Name: Jonathan “Jon” Sims-Bouchard-Robinson Age: 7 Birthday: October 26th (Scorpio) Entity/Mark(s): Avatar of The Eye, Marked by Literally Fucking Everything Guardian(s): Alexander Sims (Biological Father - Deceased), Delores Sims (Biological Mother - Deceased), Gertrude Robinson (Adoptive Mother - Current), Elias Bouchard (Adoptive Father - Current) Appearance: African heritage with dark brown skin, worryingly short for his age, dark brown eyes that glow bright green when he’s using his powers, long black hair with a few green and grey hairbands tied in, constantly “borrows” Martin’s sweaters to wear, occasionally wears skirts but most of the time he wears slacks, constantly looks sleep deprived, has a very intense stare, and occasionally he can be seen carrying his stuffed moth around. Personality: You’d think he’d be a quiet kid, considering his entity, but no, he has Questions and he wants them Answered, goddammit! He wasn’t raised around many kids his age, being home-schooled by Elias and Gertrude all his life, so he struggles to connect with the other avatar kids. Is only close to the S1 gang at first, but he gets closer to everyone else over time. Idolizes Gerry and thinks he’s the coolest guy ever. Appears rather cowardly at a glance, but he’s braver than most people give him credit for. Would die for his friends/family.

Full Name: Martin Blackwood-Lukas Age: 8 Birthday: February 29th (Pisces) ((This one’s for you, Dane)) Entity/Mark(s): Avatar of The Lonely, Marked by The Eye Guardian(s): William Blackwood (Biological Father - Uninvolved), Edna Blackwood (Biological Mother - Uninvolved), Peter Lukas (Adoptive Father - Current) Appearance: Polish heritage and pale as a fucking ghost, average height for his age but growing fast, pretty chubby, covered head to toe in little red freckles, short and curly red hair, bright brown eyes, wears big round glasses, wears sweaters and comfy trousers almost 24/7, carries a backpack full of “emergency tools” wherever he goes, usually has a cup of tea in-hand, and sometimes wears a small sailor hat that Peter gave him. Personality: Incredibly reserved, much like Mike, but he’s been trying to come out of his shell more. He’s “Best Friends Forever” with Jon, and gets along well with Tim and Sasha as well. Fears Melanie and Daisy. He likes hanging out with the other kids, but he often gets talked over, leading him to withdraw for awhile if it’s bad enough. Adores his dad, and is so much braver than anyone knows. Incredibly snarky when he feels like it.

Full Name: Sasha James Age: 10 Birthday: November 18th (Scorpio) Entity/Mark(s): Avatar of The Web, Marked by The Eye, Marked by The Stranger Guardian(s): Francis James (Biological Father - Deceased), Patrick James (Biological Father - Deceased), Annabelle Cane (Adoptive Mother - Uninvolved), Gertrude Robinson (Adoptive Mother - Current) Appearance: Mixed race heritage of African and Caucasian with dark brown skin, slightly taller than average for her age, long dark brown hair, wears big round glasses, sometimes wears a little make-up if she can get away with it, wears a lot of turtleneck sweaters and long skirts, always has at least one cobweb on her, carries around a stuffed spider that she brings with her to the archives every day, and she wears a headband most of the time. Personality: Easily the most level-headed of the kids, as she’s been raised around paranormal stuff the longest and is rarely bothered by the stranger things that happen. She hates Artifact Storage with a passion, but other than that, she loves exploring the institute and occasionally stealing Gertrude’s laptop to mess with it. Very tech savvy, and even more curious! Incredibly smart, to the point that she can even outclass Gertrude and Gerry with her quick-wittiness.

Full Name: Timothy “Tim” Stoker Age: 12 Birthday: August 3rd (Leo) Entity/Mark(s): Marked by The Stranger, Marked by The Eye Guardian(s): Markus Stoker (Biological Father - Deceased), Olivia Stoker (Biological Mother - Deceased), Nikola Orsinov (Adoptive Mother - Uninvolved), Gerard “Gerry” Keay (Adoptive Guardian - Current) Appearance: Mixed race heritage of Latino and Korean with dark tanned skin, slightly on the taller side for his age, messy/spiky black hair that looks impossible to comb, dark brown eyes, is described as a “handsome young man” by strangers, has a very charming smile, wears a lot of Hawaiian shirts and shorts (even during the winter), needs to wear glasses but he refuses to wear them in the archives out of self-consciousness. Personality: Probably one of the brightest personalities of the avatar kids, Tim comes off as very cool and funny, but underneath all of that he’s rather paranoid, afraid that the circus will come and force his baby brother into becoming a monster. Protective of his little bro and the archive kids, but he still teases them to no end. Smarter than he looks, and isn’t afraid to break his cool guy persona to tell someone off.

Full Name: Daniel “Danny” Stoker Age: 8 Birthday: August 1st (Leo) Entity/Mark(s): Avatar of The Stranger, Marked by The Eye Guardian(s): Markus Stoker (Biological Father - Deceased), Olivia Stoker (Biological Mother - Deceased), Nikola Orsinov (Adoptive Guardian - Uninvolved), Gerard “Gerry” Keay (Adoptive Guardian - Current) Appearance: Mixed race heritage of Latino and Korean with dark tanned skin, about a head shorter than Tim, somewhat neat black hair that sticks up in odd places, eyes are impressively dark and glassy looking, slight gap between his front teeth, is described as being a “handsome young man” by strangers, wears a lot of tank tops and shorts as well as the occasional hoodie if it’s cold, and loves running around barefoot. Personality: A lot of people describe Danny as being a “smaller and cuter Tim”, but that’s just not true. Danny is a lot like his older brother in many ways, but he has a much more refined taste for adventure, constantly getting himself into trouble with Jon on the grounds of “exploring” or what have you. He idolizes his big bro to the moon and back, and loves hanging out with him alongside the other kids. More of a follower than a leader, but he doesn’t mind. Secretly fears the day that the circus will come back to make him into their future ringmaster.

Full Name: Melanie King Age: 9 Birthday: June 7th (Gemini) Entity/Mark(s): Avatar of The Slaughter, Marked by The Corruption, Marked by The Desolation, Marked by The Eye Guardian(s): Boris King (Biological Father - Deceased), Carrie King (Biological Mother - Deceased), Alfred Grifter (Guardian - Uninvolved), Gerard Keay (Guardian - Current) Appearance: Irish heritage but not terribly pale, rather short for her age, incredibly thin from malnutrition, short brown hair with the ends dyed bright blue, bright brown eyes, brings her leather jacket and her guitar with her everywhere she goes, wears a lot of pink/blue skirts and band t-shirts, wears black leather boots, has a lot of bandages on her knees and knuckles, and always has a camera ready to record things. Personality: Melanie is probably the most disconnected of the avatar kids (save for Helen), seeing as she only just recently joined the group, but already she’s beginning to befriend Sasha and Basira. She’s very protective of the other girls, and she keeps challenging the boys to fight her (only Danny ever agrees; he always loses). Secretly idolizes Julia and Daisy, but will never admit it. She sees Gerry as her big bro and Alfred Grifter as her adoptive dad; she misses Alfred more than she let’s on. Would stab as a warning.

Full Name: Julia Montauk Age: 13 Birthday: April 19th (Aries) Entity/Mark(s): Avatar of The Hunt, Marked by The Dark, Marked by The Eye Guardian(s): Robert Montauk (Biological Father - Deceased), Linette Montauk (Biological Mother - Deceased), Trevor Herbert (Adoptive Father - Current) Appearance: Indigenous heritage with dark tan skin, tall for her age, skinny enough to look malnourished, close-cropped red hair that gets her mistaken for a boy a lot, metal grey eyes, a scar runs diagonally across her right eye, often wears medium length skirts and oversized t-shirts, always wears athletic shoes, has a lot of scrapes and bandages on her knees most of the time, and has abnormally sharp canines. Personality: Before the deaths of both of her parents, Julia was considered rather normal for her age, being interested in horses, dolls, and dress-up games. After her mother died, she became more tomboyish, which only became more extreme after her father’s death. Since being taken in by Trevor, Julia’s been trying to act more like an adult in an attempt to seem less vulnerable, to varying degrees of success. She adores Trevor to the moon and back, and sees Daisy as her little sister. A bit standoffish around other children, but she’s got a good heart.

Full Name: Alice “Daisy” Tonner Age: 10 Birthday: March 15th (Pisces) Entity/Mark(s): Avatar of The Hunter, Marked by The Slaughter, Marked by The Eye Guardian(s): Greyson Tonner (Biological Father - Deceased), Antoinette Tonner (Biological Mother - Uninvolved), Trevor Herbert (Adoptive Father - Current) Appearance: Welsh heritage with cream colored skin and a light tan, average height for her age, short and shaggy blond hair, has a number of tiny scars all over her face and hands, has a huge scar on her back that Trevor has told her looks like a daisy, striking green eyes, wears a lot of sleeveless shirts and shorts, refuses to wear dresses or skirts, prefers to be barefoot, and has abnormally sharp canines. Personality: Is already rather hot-headed at her age, especially after her encounter with Calvin while he was being possessed by a spirit of the Slaughter. Even so, she’s protective of her newfound family of Trevor and Julia, and while she misses her mother, she believes it’s best if she stays where she is. She loves playing outside whenever she can, and will spend hours chasing after squirrels and rabbits if left alone for too long. A bit argumentative, but she gets along really well with Julia and Basira.

Full Name: Oliver Banks Age: 10 Birthday: June 14th (Gemini) Entity/Mark(s): Avatar of The End, Marked by The Hunt Guardian(s): June Banks (Biological Mother - Uninvolved), Isaac Banks (Biological Father - Deceased), The Admiral (Adoptive Guardian - Current) Appearance: African heritage with dark skin, has an array of pitch black freckles on his face, short and neat black hair that reaches just below his ears, ghastly grey eyes that look almost clear and turn black when he’s using his powers; used to be dark brown, worryingly thin from years of malnutrition, wears a lot of baggy and long-sleeved shirts, wears sweatpants, has boots on everywhere he goes, and he’s almost always shivering. Personality: The more distrustful of the “End Siblings”, the only person Oliver even sort of likes is Jon, and even then he’s still scared of him. Constantly fidgeting and yawning from both his paranoia and fatigue. Is protective of Georgie, but more out of obligation than friendship. Prefers to be alone, and rarely visits the archives. He knows something bad is coming, but he’s too scared to do much about it. In the end, he knows he’ll do the right thing, but for now he’s hiding until the bombs finally fall.

Full Name: Georgie Barker Age: 7 Birthday: December 9th (Sagittarius) Entity/Mark(s): Avatar of The End, Marked by The Hunt Guardian(s): Georgie Grounding Sr. (Biological Mother - Deceased), Sarah Grounding (Biological Mother - Deceased), Jason Barker (Adoptive Father - Deceased), The Admiral (Adoptive Guardian - Current) Appearance: Mixed race heritage of African and Indian with dark brown skin, fairly chubby, has an array of light brown freckles all over her arms, back, and face, has long and curly black hair done up in poofy buns using colorful hair bands, paints her nails all the time with different colors every week, cutest little smile you ever did see, wears a lot of ghost-related clothing (mainly t-shirts and jeans), and she brings her ghost backpack with her everywhere she goes (it has her stuffed leopard inside). Personality: Despite being an avatar of the End, Georgie has a very upbeat personality, having no time for her adoptive brother’s endless worrying and fearfulness. In fact, all her fear has been gone since she was little, so she’s never scared to explore something new and parade into danger! She’s very close friends with Jon (even if he’s distant sometimes) and best friends with Melanie, though she gets along with most everyone else as well. She may be a chipper person, but look out, she’s carrying more baggage than she let’s on. Loves The Admiral more than life.

Full Name: Michael “Mike” Crew Age: 14 Birthday: May 13th (Taurus) Entity/Mark(s): Avatar of The Vast Guardian(s): Ramsey Crew (Biological Father - Uninvolved), Whitney Crew (Biological Mother - Uninvolved), Simon Fairchild (Adoptive Father - Current) Appearance: Caucasian and pale as a ghost, shaggy white hair that’s almost always wind-swept, strikingly pale blue eyes, smells of ozone and burnt hair, incredibly short for his age, very bony and thin, tends to wear a lot of oversized hoodies on the grounds that they make flying more fun, clothes are almost always pristine and clean, his back, right arm, and right leg are covered in a Lichtenberg scar that glows bright blue when he’s using his powers, permanent bags under his eyes. Personality: A very, very quiet kid, at least around strangers. He’s much bubblier around Simon, but otherwise he’s viewed as an “old soul” by most adults. He does have a sense of humor though, taking a bit too much pleasure out of sending people soaring into the air against their will, especially if they insulted or annoyed him beforehand. Secretly a bit protective of the other avatar kids, and has been known to take them flying if they promise not to let go of him when they do so. Nice kid, but don’t make fun of his height or he might just electrocute you out of spite.

Full Name: Helen Richardson Age: 3 Birthday: February 23rd (Gemini) Entity/Mark(s): Avatar of The Spiral Guardian(s): Tiara Richardson (Biological Mother - Uninvolved), Dexter Richardson (Biological Father - Deceased), Michael Shelley (Adoptive Guardian - Current) Appearance: African heritage with dark brown skin (has the beginning patches of vitiligo on her face and hands), fairly chubby but Michael swears it’s just baby fat, has bright purple eyes with swirling yellow irises, has short but frizzy black hair that cannot be tamed, is often dressed in very colorful onesies and footie pajamas alongside the rare dress, and occasionally she’ll have a child leash vest on (though it often disappears because of The Spiral). Personality: She honestly doesn’t have much of a personality yet, being a toddler and all, but she’s a very giggly child, and loves nothing more than making Michael “be silly” with the use of her powers. Speaking of which, she has very little control of her abilities, and although she’s too young to understand their impact on the world, she still feels bad when she accidentally goes too far and gets Michael hurt. She adores Michael and Jon, and loves it when Michael brings her to the institute with him. Very playful and mischievous.

And that’s all I’ve got for now! I wanna write some fics for this at some point (particularly I wanna write a fic that has all of the kids’ origin stories in better/more detail), but for now anyone is free to fuck around with this AU, so long as you’re not doing too much shipping between the kids (hints at ships are fine, but they’re still kids, y’all) and ESPECIALLY not any shipping of the kids with the adults/guardians. Feel free to PM me or scream about this AU in the notes/tags; I’d love to hear people’s thoughts!

220 notes · View notes

hollyhomburg · 4 years ago

Text

(reposted au- because i deleted it on accident)

(a special thanks to @atulipandarose without who i would literally be lost without <3 seriously you're a lifesaver)

I have this little idea in my head where like hybrids are allowed to come into work with their owners. New company policy and at first Jungkook is like great! Awesome! He can bring you (a cute tiger hybrid or something like that) into work and you’ll just sit and play on your computer or your phone while Jungkook spends the day coding sometimes you’ll lean your head on his lap and just purr- all and all like his favorite way to work honestly you’re his favorite person.

And then things change when the coworkers who he’s had a crush on forever starts to pop by his office more to see you and Namjoon’s always been so self-assured with miles of dimples and honey skin that Jungkook daydreams about kissing

and his partner hoseok, jungkooks boss, is only worse for jungkooks concentration. He’s always being quietly dominant over Jungkook, pulling out his chair for him at meetings or bringing him a cup of coffee in the mornings in exchange for his hard work.

Both men have take sort of an interest in you, petting you and complementing the dress that Jungkook picked out for you today, and of course, you know about jungkooks crushes and send him a shameless smirk as you whine and scent mark them much to their chagrin and jungkooks expense- blush lighting all the way from his collar to his hairline.

you’re always rushing over yourself saying things like “oh you have to come to lunch with us! There is this awesome ramen place across the street That Jungkookie loves” and of course Jungkook just blushes when Namjoon and hoseok turn their eyes on him and say “of course we would love to if you don’t mind kookie” Namjoon teases while hoseok gives his partner a wink

and Jungkook pulling on your tail and hissing at you while the two man gather their coats to leave “why are you meddling baby?” And you just giving him a feline grin and saying “just getting you that date you’ve been wanting for the last 2 years kookie”

and of course like, maybe hoseok and namjoon have a hybrid of their own- maybe panther Jimin who growls the first time he meets you and goes full on possessive because you’re his mate and now he won’t let you out of his sight and won’t let you leave their apartment, and maybe Jungkook is all blushy and shy and namjoon and hoseok really don’t know what to do because like honestly Jimin isn’t like this normally and he’s not even close to his rut like at all, but because of that he sleeps over at hoseok and Namjoon’s penthouse and like- their relationship buds from there or something.

Okay slight addendum to this that was triggered by a comment from @kamen-tenshi!!

What if I stead of a tiger hybrid the reader is a house cat hybrid or even like a teacup variety like extra small and fluffy and cute and Jungkook found her when they were young and mad his parents adopt her and has always called her ‘catcat’ since he was small. And it’s kind of a cutesy nickname he has for her, when they cuddle at night when they kiss sleepy and drowsy in the morning's hands itching under clothes so that they can get even closer. Her tail twines around his wrist and she calls him ‘bunbun’ all the time.

And then maybe Namjoon and hoseok pick up on this and tease him about it too, but they just can’t resist how he always blushes whoever they call him bunbun too even though they’re kind of starting to date like imagine they’re all shy at first kinda spoiling both you and Jungkook.

And maybe like!!! What if we through tiger taehyung into this too, and say that like Namjoon and hoseok have grown to like expensive things and that means their hybrids, who are both bespoke exotic breeds, are both reflections of that as well as both being dominant alpha hybrids who are as possessive of their masters as their master are of them, though there is a fair amount of love in their relationship as well like- oh, sometimes when hoseok gets stressed out he’ll just get attacked by grooming tongues determined to get all the yucky smell of anxiety off of him and namjoon will just smile and set about making hot chocolate for the four of them and they’ll cuddle on the couch together until Hoseok starts to feel and look more like his in control self.

Of course it was because of their two hybrids that hoseok and namjoon made the new policy for a hybrid friendly work place, because while Jimin does have a fairly lucrative job working as a model for a luxury brand that has a special line for hybrids, taehyung doesn’t have the most enriching life and wants to come by more and see what they do when they leave the hybrids at home all day.

And at first- neither tae or Jimin go in to visit the company because like Jimin is suddenly busy with a photo shoot during the day but when they come home they’re both kind of curious because- what is that strange super sweet smell coating their humans necks? And why does it make both of their tails stand on end and goosebumps erupt on their forearms and tempt them to lick and bite wheerever you happen to have rubbed your sweet scent on that day. Like they might recognize jungkooks scent a little (kind of like oranges and cream- like a cream ice pop) but yours in just- intoxicating and might trigger a rut in both of them the verry first time they both smell it in hoseok and namjoon.

Both hoseok and namjoon put two and two togeather and reach the conclusion that your first irl meeting will probably be notable at least if their hybrids are already going crazy for just your scent- because seeing you irl is 100 times more sweet and they know that- Namjoon can’t resist giving you pets or scooping you up in a hug when he sees you by jungkooks desk, and hoseok is always stopping by for just a chirpy purr in delight from you, your head suddenly shooting up from jungkooks lap before you get up to greet hoseok on you tippy toes to rub a cheek against his neck. And he’ll just chuckle and run a hand though your hair while he asks Jungkook how the project is going, used to the way that cat hybrids both big and small greet people they like.

when Jimin and tae finally meet you it’s just after dinnner when the four of you come back to hoseok and Namjoon’s apartment a little tipsy Jimin and taehyung just pounce- literally on you. And the humans are kind of shocked and too drunk to handle it- and it’s not like Jungkook didn’t know that Jimin and taehyung didn’t exist like- he’s seen pictures and everything. But this, both of them cageing you in their tails swishing back and forth and both of them growling when you take a step back- your ears pinned back against your head- is exactly the opposite of what he’s expecting and all you have to do is whimper before Jungkook gets you out of there while hoseok snares both of their hybrids by the collar when they try to follow and namjoon apologizes profusely.

And of course, Jimin and taehyung are suddenly very interested in coming into work with Namjoon and hoseok, but they know enough to have Namjoon surpervise a lunch visit where you can all be formally introduced.

It progresses from careful sniffs to purrs as each of you get better reads on your scents as Namjoon and Jungkook enjoy an intimate lunch on the roof of the company, their hands brushing over the top of the table and both of them giggling as jimin moves his chair so he can sit closer to you and get one of your hands in both of his and Taehyung continues nuzzling his nose acros your neck until he gets to your ears and nibbles and both Jungkook and namjoon have enough sense to chide “be gentle tae” before they look at each other in suprise, blush, and giggle.

There are other moments where Namjoon mentions a vintage store and coffee shop that Jungkook is curious about, and takes you and Jungkook on a spontaneous not date- date where you and taehyung fall asleep in the window of the shop while Namjoon and jungkook sit closer than they should and Jungkook listens to Namjoon talk about his obscure interest in old fashion love letters his heart beating so rapidly as He recited his favorite at jungkooks urging and finds himself enraptured.

Later, Jungkook startled apart from him when hoseok stops by to meet them after a late board meeting. And you blush when hoseok stops to press a kiss to taehyungs forehead and then yours, Jimin cuddling up to your side before he even takes his jacket off to a suprised squeek as both the tiger and the panther start to lavish you in their scent (a process that they repeat on Jungkook when your two groups part later on)

And Jungkook dosent want to assume anything at first but then Namjoon and hoseok treat both you and Jungkook to like a spa day (because hoseok lowkey loves being pampered- and like he’s loaded because he owns the game development company that Jungkook works for as well as runs it) and he says “really just come with us, we have enough vouchers because Namjoon and I go like every week- it will be fun”

but like Jungkook has looked up the prices and they’re like- expensive af, but he lets Namjoon and hoseok take the two of you and Jungkook has to admit that it’s super lovely to see you all comefey and well cared for getting your nails done while another woman rubs a softening treatment into your ears. He watches Namjoon air next to you getting a facial, take a video of your purring for both of the larger cats that wait at home (who are both firmly against being wet for any prolonged period of time) but will enjoy the videos and squeal over their Mate being happy when he sends it to them.

“haha you know if you keep doing things like this for us you know where going to take it the wrong way right?” And jungkooks bashful and joking and looking down and he glances over, and all of a sudden hoseok is all infront of him and they’re both in like those robes you put on for the sauna and suddenly Jungkook realizes how undone hoseoks has gotten and hoseok has a hand on either side of jungkooks head and is leaning in close murmuring into jungkooks was

“what if we where trying to romance you? Trying to spoil you for as long as you let us,” hoseoks lips brush against jungkooks neck with his words and it feels almost as sensitive as it does every time you scent mark him but almost more...forbidden. “What would you say to that jungkookie? If we wanted to make both of you ours? Would you let us?” And Jungkook is bright red before hoseok pulls away and tells him to think it over.

Jungkook of course has to talk it over with you first but really, why wouldn’t you say yes?

adding a little bit to this! based off of an ask i got a few days ago, I got to thinking about like, Jimin and Tae and Hoseok and Joon bringing Jungkook and the reader to some fancy meet and greet for Jimin’s hybrid modeling line. Joon and hobi buy you a beautiful dress and a matching-ish tux for Jungkook and end up complementing both of you enough you tuck your face into Jungkooks shoulder and Jungkook just kinda- melts.

And some like fancy snow leopard hybrid who Jimin has modeled with before in the past drops a snide comment about the reader being too drab for him, like a housecat hybrid, with no pedigree and a mixed breed. a hybrid whose obviously not worthy of the two golden boys one of which is the highest paid hybrid model in the industry and both of which have immaculate pedigrees. The slur of “mutt” carries a heavyweight.

And Taehyung and Jimin just like- go a little feral and defensive, with a loud rippling growl and sudden gnashing of teeth, putting themselves in front of you before anyone has a chance to throw down some claws. The room goes still, and suddenly you crumple further under the weight of everyone's eyes, your tail wraps around your waist and you hide your face in Taehyungs wide shoulders.

The snow leopard hybrid’s owner is quick to step close and urge her to apologize to you, which you stutter and accept, much to the ire of Jimin’s and Taehyungs dark-eyed possessiveness. Before you know it you’re getting pulled to sit sideways in Taehyung’s lap his arms possessively wrapped around your waist, hand tightening on your hip and rubbing in a slow pull while jimin feeds you spoonfuls of creme Brule, both of them relaxing a little when you perk up a little, tail swishing, whining a little for more. you feel warm all over as Taehyung runs his hands up and over your arms and shoulders. especially since one hybrid feeding another hybrid is like- some sort of declaration that you will provide for them, one of those old fashion instinctual things that have long fallen out of fashion.

All the while, the humans get a little too drunk to be attentive to the drama that’s going on with their hybrids. Jungkook is all leaning into Namjoon’s shoulder and giggling while Hoseok’s hand tightens on his knee- and Jungkook will be all like- shocked because while the two men tend to be a little intense sometimes but they also make Jungkook laugh so much. There is never a moment that they’re not together where Jungkook isn’t smiling.

That night is probably like the first time he realizes just how happy Hoseok and Namjoon make him- but they’re not even like together yet. and it scares him really, how much he’s grown to depend on them- especially when maybe at the party Jungkook meets someone that used to be in his position- that both Namjoon and hoseok had dated before.

And maybe Jungkook starts to pull back- starts to worry about getting hurt like he has in the past, because Hoseok and Namjoon are together and they might not need Jungkook- there’s a nasty insecure voice inside of him planted there by people who didn’t treat Jungkook right that suspects he might just be a plaything for Hoseok and Namjoon- and it only takes a few days of Jungkook giving them wishy-washy responses and canceling on dinner once for Namjoon and hoseok to turn up in his apartment.

and when ask what’s wrong, plead with Jungkook to tell him what they did to set him off- what happened, he bursts into tears. and Jungkook feels like it might just be because he’s feeling like he’s coming down with a cold (has felt nauseous and headachey all day) or the fact that his computer crashed today at work and he lost a few days worth of coding. But all of a sudden it’s just too much and he holds out his arms for them.

and of course, Namjoon and hoseok spend the next few days taking care of Jungkook when he gets the flu, cooking him meals, and lying with him and stroking his back the few times he vomits. And it’s entirely unglamorous, Jungkook feels less than his best, and will no doubt look back on those days with no small amount of embarrassment. But they never stop looking at him with anything other than aching fondness and worry. And a few days later when you and Namjoon get sick as well, Jungkook and you go to stay at their apartment so that the hybrids and the humans can take care of both of you.

and maybe after that- you and Jungkook only go back to your apartment for one or two days a week- and move in with them.

(after a near death experience with this au i think i will turn it into something more lasting- maybe soon! idk! let me know what you think!

#namkookseok #vmin #vmin x reader #bts hybrid au #bts hybrid #bts fic

275 notes · View notes

kaepopsicle · 4 years ago

Text

一𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎 𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓

〄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐒𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈𝐃𝐊 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 *𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠* 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐎 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐘 <𝟑𝟑𝟑

𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐣𝐮𝐦𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐣𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐜 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐈’𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝟓 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐙𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈’𝐦 𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐬/𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬....

i won’t make this all sappy,,, just kidding I will. so I know this year has been tough. for everyone. but I’m so proud of you for making it this long! it’s over! of course the pain doesn’t stop just bc the year is over,, but you know now that you can get through it !! I’m happy you’re still here :) — I feel like us as human beings have grown so much (I know me personally) have definitely grown and found myself more,, realized what I love, stand for, support. I hope you all have too!! I met some amazing people in this app, not even going to lie these lovelies have made me feel so much more complete. and I’m blessed to have met them...

一@sarahbkwl ♥︎

im 100% going to cry,, Sarah bear.. I can’t even describe how much you mean to me, right off the bat we just connected, the compliment battles, the random memes, the group chat name changes, you just understood me, which is rare bc I never felt understood in my life, I always felt like the awkward weird kid. I had friends I guess but I don’t think they were actually my friends, but you. you’re my true friend. someone I know I’m going to be friends with for a long time. I can’t wait to be able to see you!! You just make life a little bit easier to live, your adorable smile and your contagious laugh; I can’t help but giggle when you send your cute random pictures;; not to mention you’re absolutely gorgeous !! like literally you’re so hot okay. jfc. ten needs to come wife you up before I do ;) anyway I know the past couple weeks have been hard for you, but I’m so proud of you 🥺 you’re so strong. Now this is way too long so Gerald ... peace ✌️

一@rr0zu ☾

my moon !!! you are probably the most intelligent and strong woman i have ever met, you have been through so much stress this year but you made it, bc I knew you would; you’re practically glowing my love. you’re not only beautiful on the outside but on the inside, your need to obtain justice for the less fortunate is just amazing,, we need more people like you ,, you already know how I feel, I looked outside the other day ; and the moon was out, it was the only thing shining in the night sky. which is how you are in others lives, you just shine and light them up, making everyone’s day. 🥺 this will get way too long if I don’t stop but I just love you so much

一@babyyangx2-again ❦

*sobs* my paper clip, omg remember when we first met? I was your 🌻anon ?? and I kept flirting with you bc I’m literally Johnny, anyway your writing is literally the best, you’re literally the best, you’re my bestie 🥺 I’m so lucky to have met you, you just make me so happy and laugh so hard, we’re so chaotic but so perfect for each other; I know I’m a little forgetful and clingy but I love you ,, you know I do; you’re so kind, even though you think you’re not ; you are babe. you do little things for people , you care so much about making others happy, and that right there is an absolutely amazing trait. you’re that euphoric breeze, we you step outside, the beautiful trees blowing; the gorgeous smell of the flowers, just that happy feeling, that’s what you make me feel like.

一@starrdustville ♡︎

my flower !!!!!!!!!! Ishdjskdk my gorgeous flower, the one flower that I would pick in the field bc it was the prettiest, I would keep it as a dry flower and leave it in my favorite poetry book. so that when i read it, I’ll always think of you, you make me so happy with your smile, and your giggle is the cutest thing I have ever heard in my entire life. you just know the right things to say,, you make the stormy nights part ways for the stars

一@himitsu-luna ❤︎

my sister!! you know I always wanted an older sister.. I always wanted someone to look up to and talk to about anything; someone I can fan girl with and talk about anything with, and you my love are that person. 🥺 you’re so sweet and soft, you have the most gentle of soul and artistic of eye, makes me feel so proud and happy to have the privilege of calling you my friend

一@tinystupidwitch ❣︎

YES MY HENDERY STAN FRIEND!!! you’re so strong bubs... you know that? I know your work is hard, you get little sleep, but the fact you have the ability to text me and make me laugh and feel all happy 🥺 I appreciate you more than words can describe,,

一@bbyyangiex2 シ

my little sister :( we may be the most absolute different human beings ,, but some how we make it work, you’re so adorably cute,, and I know you’re like “nO iM nOt ,,, NO YOU” SHUSH LET ME SAY THIS!! you’re so cute and so pretty! and you’re so smart and amazing and such a beautiful young cutie... you make me feel so proud watching you grow up 😭😭 I just love you so much okay

一@hangsxng ☺︎︎

MEIN DEUTSCH LIEBE !!! Huiieifhekdk I love you so much omg, like; your accent, your laugh, your eyes, you’re so beautiful and so unique and so just absolutely erstaunlich!!! I know we haven’t talked a ton recently buttttt you’re still always on my mind! ich habe mein Deutsch dafür geübt,,,, ich liebe dich so sehr, meine liebe <3 vergiss nie, wie erstaunlich du bist 😭

一@liudejuns ♔

ugh, mimi; you know you have the ability to make someone’s day the brightest? even after a horrible day seeing you text me and post I just get so happy, you’re so beautiful inside and out and I hope you know how Important you and how much you really deserve

一@johns-marshmallow ఌ

ANNIKAN SKYWALKER!!! Aka Johnika ,,, tehehehe I love you so much ,, that’s it.

haha just kidding ! you’re such a joy in people’s lives, you’re so funny, and you radiate main character energy!! Ksjsksk i know you have been feeling down and stressed but just know you’re so strong, you’re so brave, and you’re so intelligent! anything you do will be amazing, anything you choose will be terrific why? Bc you’re Annika! you’re just the star in the sky, and anyone would be lucky to call you their friend

to my beautiful moots — thank you guys for being there for me, I would love to get to know you all so much better ,, you guys are literally the sweetest and deserve the whole world! thank you thank you thank you! I hope your 2020 will be filled with so much happiness and love !!

@hanadolphieron @sush-iii @danishmiilk @henderyprince @yutaaaaaa @joh--pping @gowonhatesyou @calypsohan @dyongvr @kpopsnowball @peachyhan @btsastro @coffeevddict @xeniya @neochan @junguwuta @heartyyjeno @strwberryneo @imjustuhhvibing @fairvtale @doyounged @du0tine @mignonmark @cyecandy @neoangsthours @orange-nimon-cross @rueyins @jaeminsb1tch @thatkpopmeme @kuniverse11 @svchengss

to my followers !! Thank you so much for supporting me! You guys mean a lot more to me than words can describe ! Im so graceful that you guys like my writing and for enjoying my blog! it makes me so happy 😭

〄

to myself —

hi kaela nichole :)

stop worrying so much about what others think! you’re a good person! stop letting things your birth family said change your opinion of yourself! stop making scenarios in your head of men that will not ! like ! you ! you are cute af you can find plenty of guys (like the four you’re thinking of in your head rn that like you... I know you don’t like any of them bUT LIKE put yourself out thereeeeee) anyway you’re amazing! also stop freaking out about vet school and your future! life will take you to wherever it does, leave faith up to the universe my love.. please.. stop being so hard on yourself, you’re trying your hardest. and that’s all you can do kae :) <3

— from yourself (love you bitch)

一may your New Years be filled with positive vibes! smiles, laughter, and good health!! <33

#HAPPY 2021 GUYS #HI 2021!!#thank you 2020 for everything you brought to me #rest forever peacefully

52 notes · View notes

beauvibaby · 4 years ago

Text

need you - f.andersen

a/n: leave it up to me to write an emotional af Freddie fic at 9 o’clock on a Sunday morning 🙃 ok but honestly a pt.2 for this??? I’d be down to write it if you’d read it

warnings: death of parent, funeral talk, and soft!Freddie (lets be real we need a warning for that)

Word count: 3k

You stared blankly at the screen, the number flashing across your mothers phone, you just got here, it couldn't happen so fast, there’s no way. No one could move, your brother sat beside you already balling his fists, trying to hold back the tears as your mother started calling out for your father, who we all knew was gone now. You finally picked up the phone at the last second, answering before it could go to voicemail. “Is this Mrs. Y/L/N?” The nurse from the hospice center spoke coldly, you’re heart broke, “this is her daughter.” You answered, hands shaking, the words she muttered you didn't think you’d ever forget. “I’m sorry to tell you that Mr. Y/L/N passed at 6:47 this evening.” Her voice was level, you couldn't blame her, she probably made these calls everyday, but still anger coursed through you. Not at her, but at everything, at life, at god. Why would he take your father so soon? He was only 60, far too young to have suffered for over ten years the way he did. “We’re on our way.” You managed to whisper out as your mother clung to you, she screamed your dads name, as if he would appear, as if he would have never left. But, we all knew that wasn't the case. You couldn't bring yourself to cry, as horrible as it sounded, you were almost relieved, that he wouldn't suffer anymore, that you wouldn't have to watch him struggle to walk from one side of the house to the other without losing his breath. The car ride to the hospice center was a long one, despite your sister in law running nearly every red light to get there. Your mom cried the whole time, your brother angrily stared out the window, guilt eating at him for not spending more time with his father before he left. You, you just sat there, sadness rushing through your veins as you still couldn't bring the tears to fall, you watched out the window as the god forsaken building came into view, all that you could hear as you expertly made your way down the hallways were the last words you’re father told you before he was too out of it to communicate.

“I love you, baby, take care of your brother, okay?”

“Of course, daddy, I love you too.”

That was three days ago, the day they told you it was lung cancer, the day you came rushing over from work because the doctor needed to talk to the whole family. The day you called your brother and told him your dad was going to die, the day you went home and cried yourself to sleep on the floor with the dog, who himself was whining, already knowing that his favorite person was never going to come home. Your mind went to Freddie as you walked in, he was away, the hockey season had just started, and you told him your dad wasn't doing good, but you didn't admit to him just how bad, thinking you surely had a couple of weeks left, you knew Freddie would leave in a heartbeat to come be with you, and your mother who he had grown to love almost as much as his own.

You entered the room, freezing in the doorway as you saw him laid out on the bed, you knew what to expect, you knew what he would look like, you had seen your grandmother like this just a year before, but it made your gut wrench to see your dad so lifeless, the color already leaving his skin. “I’m gonna be sick.” You mumbled, rushing towards the bathroom, your brother tried to follow you to make sure you were okay, but you locked the bathroom door. You heard your mom telling him to let it go, knowing it wouldn't do anything but make it worse for you. You kneeled over the toilet, crying as you emptied your stomach. Instant relief hitting you, but after you flushed it, you sat on the floor, leaning against the wall, sobbing, finally, letting the emotions out. You tearfully pulled your phone out, eyes blurry with water as you shakily dialed Freddie’s number, you knew it was the middle of the game, he wouldn't see this for another hour or two at least, but you needed to tell him now, before the funeral planning got underway. As you figured, the phone call went to voicemail. “Freddie,” you paused, letting out a cry, knowing it was going to kill him, but you couldn't help it, “he’s gone, and, I-I-uh-I need you, please.” You whimpered into the phone hanging up right after. You didn't want to go through personally telling all your friends so as tacky as it might seem, you posted a picture of you and your father from when you were little, writing a simple caption, “heaven gained another angel tonight, love you always daddy” posting it and silencing your phone as you rinsed your mouth, walking out to join your grieving family. Your brother was by the window, his wife draped over his back, as if she could absorb his sadness. Your mother sat blankly by the foot of the bed, hardly being able to look at her husband laid there like that. “I love you, mom.” You whispered sitting beside her, you were the rock of the family, always, so she didn't hesitate to rest her head on her shoulder as she started crying for the millionth time tonight. You once again sat blankly, staring at your shoes, not wanting to imprint the image further into your brain.

***

You had all since gone back to your house, you went straight to your fathers office, already starting to sort through things, you knew you should take a moment, you knew you should let yourself grieve, but you couldn't. You took a garbage bag from the kitchen, bringing it with you and shutting yourself in there, your brother came in for a while, only telling you what he wanted to take back home with him for his kids. You gave him those items and he let you be, he was never good with his emotions, let alone dealing with yours. You had forgotten to turn your ringer back up on your phone so when you pulled it out to check the time you were shocked to see seven missed calls from Freddie, but one message that made relief hit you like a truck.

“I’m coming, the plane lands in thirty minutes.” That was sent well over an hour ago, only then did you realize it was nearing one am, you walked out of the office, your sister in law and brother sitting on the couch watching some Adam Sandler movie, your mother had gone to bed, the dog trailing along with her, keeping her company as if he could feel the pain radiating off of her. “Freddie will be here soon.” You announced softly, your brother nodded blankly, he got along well enough with Freddie, but you knew deep down Freddie had a certain level of disrespect for your brother, seeing how poorly he has treated you in the past, but Freddie was more of a man despite being younger than your brother, so you knew he wouldn't act on it. You sat down on the love seat, not wanting to be near them, but not wanting to be alone again, your mind wandered as you thought of how well Freddie and your dad had gotten along, it always made you happy, and your dad had been the one to realize you two would last before even you did. “You’re going to marry him one day, Y/N, wether I’m here or not, just know that I love him.” That memory brought tears to your eyes, and you shot up when you saw headlights outside, the uber dropping Freddie off in front of your house. You ran out the door, not caring how loud you were. “Freddie!” You shouted, making him whip around in the dark as he pulled his suitcase out of the trunk. He nearly dropped it down to the ground, not caring as he rushed to meet you. “Y/N, I’m so sorry, baby, so so sorry.” He whispered, kissing the top of your head repeatedly as you began to cry against him, “I wish I had been here, but I’m not going anywhere now, I promise.” He added making you nod against him, he shuffled to grab his bag with you still clung to him. “Come on, love, it’s cold outside, let’s go inside.” He shushed you, carefully walking with his free arm around you as the other pulled his suitcase along.

You entered the house, finally loosening your grip on him as Max your dog came barreling out of the room, tail thumping in excitement at the sight of your boyfriend. He reached down to pet the dog as you stayed glued to his side, not wanting to release the comforting grip he had on you. He slowly let go of you to greet your brother and sister in law, you let out an inaudible whimper when he let go of you, as soon as he released you he was back to you. Wrapping you up in his hold again as your brother and his wife made their way to the guest room. “Did you want to get some sleep?” He asked softly, toying with your hair as you nuzzled your face into his neck. You nodded softly, allowing him to lead you to your room, he knew this house like the back of his hand, “wait.” You muttered all of a sudden, letting go of him and walking into your dads office, you took the framed photo of you and him, bringing it into your room and placing it on your dresser, Freddie smiled softly pressing a soft kiss to your temple, before pulling out one of his shirts for you. “I know you’re going to want to take a shower.” He whispered, also knowing your routine like his own, you always wanted to shower after a long day, so you gave him a quick kiss, before trudging into the bathroom.

You let yourself get lost in the shower, meanwhile Freddie quietly made his way to your dads office, he went straight towards the closet, opening the doors slowly as he knew otherwise they would squeak, and he carefully opened the filing cabinet, and could tell by the later of dust on the handle that it probably hadn’t been touched since the day your father showed it to him. He reached in and felt around in the dark, letting out a relieved breath as he felt the small box. He pulled it out, and his eyebrows knit together as their was a note folded up and taped to it. He quickly opened it up, after checking to make sure the ring was still securely in the box, he smiled down at it, it was your grandmothers, and it was ko seceret to anyone that you wanted it to be your engagement ring. He had talked to your father months ago when he started going down hill, and he told Freddie where he hid the ring.

“Alright, Freddie, if you’re reading this note, obviously I didn’t stick around long enough to see this moment. You know you have my blessing to marry Y/N, you treat her better than I ever could’ve imagined, don’t let her go, son. Hold on tight to her... if you’re reading this the day I pass, which knowing my daughter you will be, in fear of her getting rid of the filling cabinet with this still in it. Hold on to this ring, give her some time, you’ll know when the moment is right.”

Freddie couldn’t help but let out a tearful chuckle at the so blatantly forward note your father had left, he heard the shower turn off and quickly made his way out of there, hiding the ring and the note in his suitcase. He changed into some sleeping clothes as your feet started padding down the hallway, “come here.” He whispered, laying back on the bed, you threw your dirty clothes into the corner, not caring enough to do anything else as you crawled in beside him, his large shirt fitting you like a short dress. You pushed your wet hair back and laid your head on his chest, “I love you, Freddie.” You whispered, tracing the pattern on his shirt, “I love you, Y/N.” He sighed in return, giving you an extra squeeze, silently telling you he’d always be here, no matter what.

And it’s true, he was, through all the funeral planning, through both your mother and your own breakdowns, he sat between you too at the funeral, you curled into his side, well he held your moms hand tightly, doing his best to comfort you both as your brother spiraled. He did everything you asked him too and then some, you mentioned needing to grocery shopping, and he offered, not giving you the chance to say no, but you went with him, needing to be out of the house, but he did it all. When your sister in law made the executive decision to have your two young nieces at the funeral-something you completely disagreed with-he helped entertain them, play with them, wiped their tears away when your brother was too busy in his own head to notice. Anyone who had seen the two of you doing all this would think it was your own family, and that made your heart break even more as it was the night after the funeral. Your brother and his family staying until the morning before making the four hour drive back to their home, you woke to a soft knock on your door. Freddie was out like a light, and he deserved to be, handling all these emotions by himself, so you carefully slid out of his grip, not noticing how he stirred when you did so. You opened the door and frowned as you saw your oldest niece, who was still only 7 standing in your doorway, her stuffed animal hugged to her chest, and tears littering her cheeks. “Sweetie, are you okay?” You soothed, kneeling down to her height, she shook her head, “mommy and daddy were arguing, I couldn’t sleep.” She explained to you and you had to hold back a sigh at how ridiculous your brother and his wife were. “Can I stay with you and uncle Freddie?” She whimpered, and your heart burst, she’d never called him that before. “Of course.” Freddie called from the bed, making you jump a little, “come on.” You held your hand out, she took it and followed you into the room, you turned your bedside lamp on, knowing she was scared of the dark. She climbed into the bed and instantly looked exhausted as she became sandwiched between you and your longtime boyfriend. He smiled when she pulled his hand to be on her, he kissed the top of her head, and then did the same to you, calming your nerves as you watched her breathing even out and her eyes rest peacefully.

“Uncle Freddie has a nice ring to it.” You whispered, he let out a breathy laugh, glancing down at the peacefully sleeping girl, he adored them, and it never failed to make your heart swell, he fit right in with your family. “It does.” He answered, thinking of how it will become permanent when he proposes to you in the morning.

***

You woke to both of your nieces jumping onto you, you let a groan out dramatically as you got smothered. “Good morning to you too, girls.” You teased, tickling their sides as you looked up to see Freddie in the doorway. “Girls, can you give me and aunt Y/N a minute?” He asked and they nodded, scurrying out of your room, you pushed yourself up in the bed, smiling at your boyfriend. He brought you a cup of coffee and placed it on your nightstand before pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “Good morning.” He whispered, fingers tangled in your messy hair. You smiled, your first genuine smile in almost a week as you took in the man before you, “good morning.” You responded happily, of course your heart still ached, but it was always easier to get through it when Freddie was here. “I don’t know if it’s the right time, and I don’t have a whole speech prepared, but this is just something I feel like I have to do.” He trailed off, going over to his suitcase, you furrowed your brows, watching him mutter to himself before standing triumphantly. The second he turned and you saw the oh so familiar red box, your heart skipped a beat, your eyes welled up with tears, for the first time in a long time, they were for good reasons. Your hands shot to your mouth as he nervously kneeled beside the bed, “yes!” You shrieked out, he shook his head in laughter, “can I ask first baby?” He joked, but you muttered an oh shit before nodding. “Y/N, will you marry me?” He skipped the whole spcheel, and you didn’t need to hear it anyways, just what he’s done for you and your family in the past week has shown how much he loves you. “Yes!” You shrieked out again, nearly tackling him to the ground in a hug, you peppered kisses all over his face before finally landing on his lips, giving him a kiss full of love. “Where’d you find it?” You questioned, you’d been looking for the ring for years, and your dad always said it was in a safe place. Freddie slipped the diamond ring on your finger, and of course, it fit perfectly. You looked up at him through your lashes as he did so, seeing the focus on his face as he did such a simple, life changing task. “Your dad told me where he hid it a few months ago.” Freddie admitted and you couldn’t help but let a laugh fall from your lips, that was so something he would do, “of course he did.”

Taglist: @thathockeygirl @literarycharleton

#frederik andersen #frederik andersen imagine #frederik andersen blurb #frederik andersen x reader #freddie andersen #nhl writing #nhl #nhl imagine #toronto maple leafs #toronto maple leafs imagine

174 notes · View notes

choiceskatie · 4 years ago

Note

6 and 7-and HOW DOES GONE GIRL END

😘😘😘😘😘

From the Writers Ask Game

6) What is a favorite scene of yours that you’ve written, and why does it stand out to you?:

I had to go find this and reread it to make sure it wasn’t absolute trash, but what instantly came to find was Liam talking to his mother after he finds out about Fabian in Gone Girl. I don’t think it’s the best work I’ve ever done, but I had to dig deep to write that scene so I could accurately portray how I believed Liam be feeling at that moment. My mum passed away when I was young, too, so the scene was really emotional for me to write because I was digging up feelings I had shoved aside for years (I told you - black heart lol) and having to let myself feel them so I could do Liam justice. I am glad I did it though, because it’s exactly what I think it’s exactly what he’d do in that situation.

The scene’s probably not even my favourite because of what it does for the character, but because of what it did for me.

Aaaaaaaaand after that uncomfortable personal answer you didn’t ask for lol, here’s the long af scene I was talking about:

“Hello, Mother” he smiled. The entire maze was her vision, her last act before she died. He used to come out here often, to feel close with her. Sometimes he could even feel her presence. “I’m sorry it’s been a while. I… I suppose there’s no real excuse for my absence. I’ve missed talking to you. I’ve missed the calm I feel sitting in your gardens. I suspect the news I learnt today is what led me here tonight.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “It seems you have a grandson… I know, out of wedlock, tut tut tut, I’m sure Grandmother is ashamed.” he chuckled. “But, married or not, our son was made from love. Pure, eternal love. Well, perhaps only eternal on my behalf. I couldn’t blame Riley if she felt no love for me anymore. My actions today has been inexcusable. The first thought in my mind when I learned that Riley had left court with-child was am I dreaming? It felt like all of my dreams were coming true. A family with the woman I love most in this world. However, I soon snapped out of that. None of my dreams had come true, in fact, Riley had apparently made it her mission to keep me from our child’s life. I can’t say I blamed her. In fact, my first thought was if they’ve been getting on along fine until now, I don’t want to ruin that. I’m not good enough for her. I couldn’t even find her when I sent Bastien all over the world searching for her two years ago. I don’t want to add my child into the never ending mix of my disappointment. I realised as soon as I set off in my car how stupid I’d been. But then I saw Leo and I let my anger and jealousy get the better of me. Jealousy that he’d obviously been able to look after my family when I didn’t even know about them. What a fool I’ve been.”

7) Is there a character that you’ve written that took you by surprise because they turned out differently than you originally intended?:

100000% Leo in Gone Girl. You already know he wasn’t even meant to be a LI in the series lol. I honestly didn’t have any plans for him past the first couple of chapters, and look where we are now lmao. In the present timeline, he is clearly very different to the Leo we’ve seen in ROE and in parts of TRR. I think you see his usual personality in the Shanghai flashback chapter, because he’s still v cheeky and hasn’t had to grow up yet, but since he’s left court and taken care of Riley, he’s grown into a real man who is selfless and puts her before everything and everyone. Was not expecting that lol!

HAHAHAHA the ending of Gone Girl. WEELLLLL, I know exactly how it ends actually lol. I have went back and forth a lot, nearly deciding to do two alternate routes for Leo and Liam because my readers were so divided hahaha. Although I know exactly how it’s going to end, I could easily swap the brother out if starting to write it again made me have a change of heart 😂 if I decide I’m never picking it up again or you really want to know, I’d be more than happy to tell you lmao!

I’m sorry this is so long lol, but thank you for these asks and I love you! 💕💕💕

9 notes · View notes

whatwouldmindykdo · 4 years ago

Text

I wrote a little something about coming to terms with my sexuality and thought I’d share it here...

For as long as I can remember I’ve dreamt of my wedding day. As soon as I was able to comprehend the concept of wedding and marriage it became my only goal, my ultimate achievement: I wanted, I needed to get married. This would make me successful and prove my worthiness. I would be happy forever. And so, for years, I’d spend hours imagining the magical day: the dress, of course, and its designer, the venue, the guests, the music, the menu, the bridal party, the decor. And of course, the groom. Because it was always a groom. However, I would find it extremely difficult to imagine him. I could think of qualities I would look for in a partner, but that was it. Looking back now, I think that, more than any of these things, what I dreamt of was being loved and being in love. I was just hoping to find the kind of unconditional love I grew up surrounded by. Not a person but a feeling. An ideal.

I grew up in what you would probably call a liberal family. My parents are very open-minded, left-wing voters and I grew up having political debates at the dinner table. But it was always about tolerance. Every love is love, they would say. Everyone deserves to be happy, they would say.

This, however, was not true for them growing up. Both my parents grew up in working class families and worked their way into the middle class. As liberal as my parents are, their own parents were rather conservative in thought.

My father’s parents had grown up on farms. Their own parents, my great-grandparents, lived a life I cannot even begin to comprehend. After the Second World War, as life was changing everywhere, and especially in the countryside, my grandparents left for the city (well, a city, not THE city) to work in factories. They were deeply religious and my father was raised a Catholic. However, he also enjoyed great freedom. He was free to come and go, almost as he wished, to play with his brother and friends. He was free not to work in school, drop out after middle school and go on to work with his father. Which he did, for a while, until he realized he didn’t want to do that his entire life. In other words, he was free to fail, and try again. Would it had been the same thing had he been a girl? We will never know, as he was one of two boys.

My mother, on the other hand, was not. Her grandparents had been mining workers, as almost everyone in the area. Her own parents had been saved from this life, and pushed to look for work in other industries. They had married young and my mother was the eldest of two. Her parents were heavily involved in political and union movements, pushing for workers’ rights. This gave her an awareness of the political situation and an ideal of what is achievable when you work for it. My mother, however, is also a woman. And as such, her parents expected her to behave a certain way.

She was expected to be the perfect little girl. Calm, pretty, smiling. Not to take too much space. Do well in school. Be polite. And so my mother tried her best to be this ideal girl. She excelled in school, practiced many sports, and took it upon herself to keep the family together and happy. She eventually went on to work and had to move out to another city, but always close to family as she was sharing an apartment with her aunt. When she found another job closer to her parents, she moved back home. Eventually, she met my father. They dated for a couple of years, but moving in together was unfathomable. Not before marriage. And that’s how my parents ended up married without having ever lived together, something I honestly find quite hard to imagine. Her brother, on the other hand, lived a life closer to my dad’s. He could not roam the streets or drop out of school but he did leave high school without graduating, moving out to work away and never looked back. He introduced many girlfriends to his parents before eventually having a child and getting married, in that order.

My parents would probably tell you that they raised me and my brother the same way. That not more was expected of me. That I could do the exact same thing he did. And to some extent that is true. We were both expected to excel in school. To be polite and respectful. We were both told we could dream of being whoever we wanted to be. But what had been instilled to my mother was also, somehow, perhaps more sneakily, taught to me. I also had to be the perfect little girl, no excuses. The one that doesn’t move. The one that doesn’t scream or make a scene. The one that helps at home. As Michelle Cliff says in Notes on Speechlessness, ‘I am reminded that a great compliment of my childhood was: ‘she’s such a quiet girl’’.

Instead of rebelling against this system I made it mine: it was my way of taking up space. My way of being remarkable. I was expected to excel at school: I was top of the class. I was expected to be calm and discreet: I would literally never speak. Even today it takes a lot for me to be able to do things I know my parents disapprove. Because I have built myself through others’ approval, and then who am I once they don’t approve?

What does that have to do with being a lesbian, you may wonder. See, I knew about lesbians. I knew about gays. It was not entirely unknown to me. I saw them on the news, we talked about them at home. But no one in my family was gay, lesbian or part of the LGBTQI+ community, at least not openly. That was not what we did. As much as my family rebelled against capitalistic society, we were expected to conform in certain areas, and this was one. We, as a family, are heterosexuals. And so I unconsciously associated being a good girl to being heterosexual.

I don’t remember the first time I heard of the LGBTQI+ community, nor do I remember the first time I had a crush on a girl. I am quite sure she was my primary school best friend. I very clearly remember wondering whether I was in love with her or whether that was just how you felt for your best friend (hint: I kinda knew the answer). And so, little me moved on with life. Eventually the feeling wore out, and there was a very intense and dramatic fall out. But that was it, no more questions about my sexuality. Not until I was well into my teenage years, at least. When I made it to university I had began what I would call my transformative journey, learning extensively about feminism, inclusivity and human rights. I was passionate about these subjects and wanted to learn more, and more. I surrounded myself with people who were open-minded, teaching me about these very topics, and, for some of them, part of the LGBTQI+ community. At about this time I began identifying as pansexual or bisexual. I have never been really sure about this. There was no major coming out though. I just stated here and there that I thought love was about a person and their soul, not their gender. Even though I was identifying as pansexual / bisexual, the doubt never really left. I felt ill-at-ease with the identification. Maybe I’m not into labels, I’d think. Maybe.

Deep down, I knew. I think I’d always known. I would get major crushes on women in films and TV shows. Maybe that’s just identification. I could hardly imagine being in a relationship with a man. Maybe I just haven’t met THE one. I would feel uncomfortable whenever a man flirted with me. Maybe I’m just not into him.

I just couldn’t imagine being a lesbian. And that’s not to say that I could fathom the very existence of lesbians. I knew they existed, I had a friend as they say. I truly believed that all love is love. What I couldn’t accept was that I was a lesbian. How could I not like men? Good girls like men. Good girls are straight. Good girls get married TO A MAN, and have children WITH A MAN. No way. I must be pansexual. Or bisexual. Not lesbian.

Funnily enough, the pandemic was a big transitional time for me. I was able to truly connect with myself. Away from the world and the mundanities of everyday life, focusing on what really matters for the first time, I came to a realization. I do not like men. I do not find pleasure in imagining a relationship with a man. This realization was validated by experience. I signed up on a dating app (what??? I know, don’t judge). My immediate reaction was to set up my preferences to women only (that should have been another hint right?!). However, almost immediately I changed those preferences to everyone (men and women). Why? Because, I thought, by excluding men I might miss out on the one (he’s always somewhere). What if I miss on the opportunity of happily ever after because I renounce to dating half of humanity? And oh boy did I regret that. I was instantly contacted by half the male population of my surroundings (the joys of being on a dating app) and it really felt like it was not for me. I was feeling miserable rather than happy, anxious rather than excited. I switched back to women only and I have felt safer and more myself ever since.

I guess you could say that I have been feeling rather at peace with who I am. I have come out to a few (selected) friends, in the least dramatic way possible (well, they also are the least dramatic women I know). There remains the question, however, of coming out to family. Because although I have come to term with being a lesbian, I am still scared AF when it comes to coming out to my family and the main reason is: what if I am not lesbian after all (eye roll emoji)? The real reason, though, is that I know that as open-minded as my parents are, a coming out also means a period of adaptation, of understanding what it means exactly. And for someone like me who hates both confrontation and disappointing this feels like a big deal. Selfishly, I wish someone had been there before in my family. That I would not be the first. The trailblazer. The odd one out. The lesbian aunt. But then, I think of my little cousins. And how I could be that person for them. If I allow myself past the fear.

Thing is, I also truly believe that I will not be able to be fully happy until I come out. I will not be truly happy until I can be who I am fully, knowing that the people who accept it are the ones who love me, for real. But what if that means losing my grandfather? What if it means that people will literally never stop talking about it?

As much as I have talked about the hardships of coming out and coming to terms with my sexuality, I will also mention that coming to terms with this reality has been a huge relief. It has opened me to a world where love and inclusion are legion. A world where you are accepted for who you truly are. It has given me role models, values and a political awareness that I probably would not have had otherwise. In other words, being lesbian is a blessing because it is who I am, fully. And when I get to be this person, I can finally start to breathe. I can finally start to live.

My problem lies with mainstream culture and the way it portrays lesbian relationships. I have grown up with the ability of seeing gay couples loving each other, hating each other, flirting, breaking up. Mainstream media and popular culture have very much romanticized gay relationships. What of lesbian relationships then? The reality is completely different. And how could it not be when Instagram still censored the ‘lesbians’ hashtag two weeks ago? When we only have The L Word as a reference? Where on TV and in films have lesbians been given the space and time to actually develop a relationship except in that show? And I’m not even talking about the perfect, happy relationship. Just any relationship. More than 3 minutes of screen time. You’ll have to agree that this is rather recent.

How different would my life have been if I had seen lesbian couples on TV? How different would my life have been if people had not shied away from lesbian relationships? It is time for pop culture to be inclusive of our people. Little girls need this representation. They need to know that this kind of love exists, is normal, and brings fulfillment. I wish this had been my reality so that I wouldn’t have been mad when Casey from Atypical dumps her boyfriend to explore her relationship with Izzie. Because then perhaps I wouldn’t have been mad at her for doing that. I wouldn’t have been mad at Izzie for being honest. Because that is how deeply rooted my fear of being a lesbian was: I was mad at these two women for having the courage to explore their feelings and be true to themselves, when Casey could have had the perfect ending with Evan. And that is not ok. I need to let go of the idea that the perfect life means being in a heterosexual relationship. Because I know that this is not for me. This will not bring me fulfillment.

#lesbian #lgbtqplus #about me #sexuality #coming out?#gays of tumblr

10 notes · View notes