#reason and no matter how much i report them it doesn’t stop
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
isn’t it crazy how literally no social media websites take a real concrete stance against bigotry anymore
#i’ve been getting more transphobic anons lately for no fucking#reason and no matter how much i report them it doesn’t stop#and i’ve been getting all sorts of white supremacist shit too with racial slurs in it and like. nothing changes#*nstagram comment sections are full of racism misogyny homophobia/transphobia and fb is the same#obviously tw*tter is over and has been#it’s just crazy that they don’t care#knight rambles#racism tw#transphobia tw
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
Force in Nature | Platonic Yandere Trey Clover x Toddler Reader
Part 2
Being a child, in your experience sucked. Even with a developing mind there were constant reminders of all your faults. Short, weak, disadvantaged and constantly at the whim of adults. Most children wouldn’t mind so much, considering that the adults in their life mean well but not you. Never you.
“(Y/n) don’t give those fat brats anymore then that. They’re already eating us out of house and home.”
The drivel of your mother rings like a bell in your head. Always chastizing, always negative. It had gotten better now that she had found your father but it wasn’t enough. It was never enough. In her mind she figured his children were the only obstacle left between her ‘happily ever after’ with your father.
“Ace! Deuce! Did you break into this pantry again?!”
It didn’t help that the twins were rambunctious spitfires that were prone to trouble anyway. Which meant they were often forced to reach out their hands to suffer the wrath of the ruler. Their father was a popular man, often more focused on updating the town’s bulletin boards than disciplining his children but it was clear he loved them.
But love was never enough to save the duo from your mother’s accusations.
At least once a day, your mother would report the twins for doing or saying something awful. It would always lead to an exhausted sigh before stomping over to the children to give another lecture and dish out some chore as punishment.
“This so unfair, we didn’t even do anything this time.”
“Well I know I didn’t. Maybe you did something Ace.”
“What!? How dare you blame me! Don’t you believe me, (Y/n)?”
You usually were a witness to their innocence, often spending your time with them anyway. But for whatever reason not being able to speak meant your written testimonies were invalid. No matter how many times you wrote in you’re book and presented it to your father it never seemed to work.
“You’re so sweet (Y/n). Trying to save your big brothers; you know that lying doesn’t help their case anymore.”
It was fine when it was only that. Baseless accusations and then the punishment of simple chores. Every now and then a prank in return for their suffering but then the chilly warning of Autmn came around. While the likeness that the snow would pile too high was low, the scarcity of food was a guarantee. Already aware of the set portions you’d receive suddenly decreasing and the way your father didn’t dare eat with you all any more spoke volumes.Unfortunately your mother wasn’t all too fond of cutting material costs.
“Cater I’m telling you, we’ll never get to eat if we have those kids in the house.”
“But love (Y/n) would never survive the trip into town.”
“Not them you idiot! They hardly eat more than a rat! It’s those boys of yours! They’re so big they ought to be hunting for their own by now.”
“The boys…not them they are still children too.”
“Stop whining. I’m going to take them out tomorrow, to learn how to hunt.”
“You?! But you’ve never—”
“Shut-up! Maybe then I can get those kids to do something worth the wasted meal.”
Reporting to your brothers the plan for the day felt like being the espionage detail for a secret operation. It made you proud when they used their information to concoct their own plan. They deduced that she planned to ‘lose’ them during her hunting lesson. Thus Deuce’s genius-plan to leave stones leading to the house was born. It was a shame that this plan didn’t involve you in any way but you were happy to see Deuce leaving stones behind as your mother led him into the forest.
Trying to comfort your father for a decision he didn’t protest felt odd. Of course, you wouldn’t understand the emotional struggle of his love life and the love of his trouble-causing twins. You are a kid, you aren’t supposed to know. Still, you let him hold you, mumbling curses to himself about cowardice as your mother opened the door. She huffed and puffed about him not greeting her before going off to prepare dinner.
Unable to resist the urge you settled on the chair beneath the window. Watching the opening into the forest being led to by the stones. Sure enough, before the sun had set and the fourth time your mother had called you for dinner they were there. Appearing slightly dirty but determined they came just in time, much to your mother’s dismay.
Of course, what followed was a new plan for tomorrow.
“I’ll take them deeper in! And I’ll make sure to kick all those pebbles away”
“Please let’s just–”
“Starve!? We’ll barely have enough for dinner tomorrow! They must go!”
“But it’s so cruel.”
“Do you have a better idea?”
The silence from your father was telling and like before you reported to your brothers. They took your notes with just as much urgency as the last, instead trading their stones for crumbs from the sliver of bread they’d be given for lunch. At the time it sounded like a great idea.
But as the sun set and the critters of the forest picked at the crumbs left behind, it dawned on you.
This was a terrible idea.
With a quickly scribbled note left on the window sill, you took a ball of yarn tying it to the bush near the forest opening. Following the disappearing trail of critters, you were walking in the direction your brothers went finding that it stopped in a clearing. From there the moon could no longer illuminate the crumbs still left and the critters weren’t leading you accurately anymore.
It was getting colder. The woolen sweater and mitts are your only comfort. With a rumbly tummy and the heaviness on your eyelids increasing, you settled into the dirt. Promising you’ll find your brothers when you wake, staving off the fear from your shrunken spool of wool.
When the sun rose again you woke with renewed vigor. The pain of hunger leaving you for the time being you set your gaze to the ground. Of course, the crumbs were gone but vague indents in the dirt gave you enough of a guide. During your tracking you start the game of letting your smaller shoes take a fraction of their tracks following along as you replay a song your father would sing.
Eventually, the tracks stopped at a paved pathway, it smelled sweet like a candy you’d seen the twins eat. It made you curious but you trusted your judgment to ignore your hungry thoughts. The tracks didn’t continue past the pavement and knowing your brothers they’d certainly gave the brightly colored path a try.
The grumbling desires of your stomach weren’t spoiling your resolve— or that’s what you were telling yourself. Going down the hill the path led over it’s destination led you to a place you swore shouldn’t have existed. In a clearing, the candied path led to a gingerbread house, decorated with various frosting, gumdrops, and red vines. The fence around it was peppermint canes surrounding the sugary house invitingly. A perfect garnishment for an already delectable house. Your stomach agreeing you found yourself closing in on the gingerbread foundation perfectly level with your small mouth.
Before you could dive in, you stopped. Thinking back to nicer days in the forest you remembered thanking the squirrels buried in the trees surrounding your cottage. Instead of burrowing inside your warm, inviting home they kept to their holes in the nearby trees. Of course, your young mindset wouldn’t have comprehended why animals that wanted to survive avoided the cottage. But that was beside the point.
Your manners for the owner of the candy house would not be affected. Even though your stomach churned almost painfully at your denial. To make it easier you turned away from it crouching down to hold the grumbling organ. Repeating that you could eat when you returned with your brothers to share—no matter how little was left.
“You are allowed to eat you know.”
The sultry voice of a man stopped your internal thoughts, peeking your head over your shoulder to look at the interruption. In the doorway of the house was a tall and handsome man, he reminded you of the young bachelor in town. Wearing a tight black long-armed shirt lined with rhinestones, your mother would envy. The dangling sparkles matched his pants which were long and wide at the ankles. His attire was interesting because you’d never seen it before, the man’s face was just as alarming. Hair as green as the surrounding trees was flowing to his waist contrasting his black outfit in a ragged but neat look. It was like a halo of green against his pale skin, golden eyes, and pink lips.
“You look hungry, why don’t you take a bite?”
The way he said it was hypnotic. An inviting and comfortable thrum of a voice that started to pinprick into your morale. You shook your head as if that would expel the greedy thoughts threatening to take hold. You hurriedly pulled out your notepad writing as neatly as you could. Holding up your notepad, you hoped he could read.
'It’s your house…that’d be mean.'
He leaned in to see what you wrote, retreating back to the arch of the gingerbread door.
“I was the one who chose a candy house. It just comes with the territory.”
He flashed a smile, white as milk. You licked your teeth beneath your mouth, feeling the plaque build-up that you’re sure makes your teeth yellow. Thinking of brushing, your memories trickled the moments you’d had with your brothers. The excitement that came with using your toothpaste for anything but. It reminded you of your real objective.
'Have you seen my brothers?'
The man tilts his head. You proceed to draw them to the best of your ability; trying to use the charcoal to detail the colors of their hair, and their height compared to your own. It’s hard to tell if he knows anything as his small smile hasn’t waivered. But as you scribble and point you worried he’d stopped listening.
“How about you come inside, have a bite, and I can help you find your brothers. That sound like a plan?”
You nodded. Standing up, you rushed to his side to grab his extended hand letting him lead you inside.
'My name’s (Y/n), what’s you’re name?'
“Trey. You can call me: Trey."
'Nice to meet you, Trey!'
“Likewise.”
______________________________________________________________
Trey Clover loved to eat children. It was in his nature to come from a long line of baking witches. It wasn’t a trade secret that children extend your life and beauty; the real secret was how to craft the potions with the children to make delicious desserts. Forest animals and pesky adults were fine ingredients but nothing was more fulfilling than a child’s soul. They were also much nicer to have as victims. They cried sure but they were dumber, more gullible, and so much easier to fatten up. But for all the children he’d consumed over the past century, there was something Trey could definitively say was the truth.
That Trey Clover loved children. His family ruled him as demented for such a thought but it was the truth. For all the fulfillment he’d have after his rejuvenating meals, there was still a resounding sorrow that nothing he could make would overshadow. Nothing but the shining presence of another child.
Trey rationalized that he wasn’t crazy, humans had pet pigs all the time. He’s no different in that way. That every now and then the thought of keeping one crossed his mind, diminished at the thought of one thing or another. Whether it was a spark of brattiness that was hidden behind a sunny demeanor or just the undisciplined actions of a bully in the making. It reminded him why he’d never let himself feel too bad as he tossed their belongings into the basement after a satisfying meal. He figured it was natural selection. Like any other predator, he looked for the weakest, the slowest in the pack to pick off and sustain him for another ten years.
But he’d begun to waiver with such an innocent soul in his grasp.
“How was that? Was it good?”
'But my brothers–'
He'd close the pad before the question was asked.
“Your head is so warm, I think you’re coming down with a fever.”
Cradling the young child, he settled to swaying them to sleep. His usual victims were not so young, often much older and more defiant. That is why it was such a treat to have a well-mannered impressionable little toddler to care for. With a resolve to their mission that was unavoidable, it still was nothing against the bedtime routine he’d been taught long before. He couldn’t remember if it was his mother or one that he’d eaten but she detailed the way to care for small children with such pride. In his heart of hearts, he’d admit to having eaten her out of envy. But now she proved more useful than her bones as he ran a bath for the yawning toddler.
Distracting them with talks of nothing as he gently wiped the grime off their little body. He had to refrain from frowning at the signs of a rash on their back. He was blankly staring at the untreated patch, cursing the adults who’d allow a sick toddler to run through the woods. But from their other children’s stories, they weren’t all that good to begin with.
The sound of a sneeze reminded him of his task.
“Bless you. After your bath I’m just rub a little ointment on your back before you settle down okay?”
They tiredly nodded, Trey resisted the urge to coo.
“You’re doing a good job staying awake. Let’s finish up before you fall asleep, okay?”
His parents were completely right about him. What sane witch would have a room decorated for a toddler already made, already infused with sleeping herbs that’d erase the thoughts of the past?
“Goodnight, my sugar cube.”
The notepad had been abandoned long ago. The urge to burn it was growing.
“Tomorrow we can look for your brother.”
The demanding sign of '2 brothers', made him laugh. Not after today you wouldn't.
“Maybe one day sugar cube, sleep tight.”
Kissing (Y/n)’s head and waving as he closed the door, Trey was elated. It was difficult to wipe the smile off his face when he unlocked the basement door.
It wasn’t just as he left it per his instructions to the bratty boy. Ace was far too skinny to be worth a good meal and from what Trey could tell a decent worker under stress. Trey figured it’d be hard to break his spirit if the other boy was around. Of course there was a chance it'd return with his little one. Trey would bet on fear and duty overwhelming him and he’d fall right into place.
“I see you’re working extra hard. Good.”
______________________________________________________________
Ace stopped sweeping, his little knuckles white as he fought the urge to scream at the witch. He only wanted to see his brother. After the first night, he knew rebelling would get him nothing but trouble.
“Can I see my brother now?”
Trey hummed closing the door behind him, he didn’t bother to lock it. He knew the boy wouldn’t want to leave. He took the ring of keys from his belt twirling around his lithe finger as he stepped deeper into the basement. Ace stuck close to his side, waiting anxiously to see his brother again.
The last time he saw him, his face was wet with tears. His hands were still sticky from the treats they’d gorged on, angrily shaking the unmoving metal bars around him. Ace couldn’t sleep if he tried.
“Before we go in, you two have a younger sibling. (Y/n) was it?”
Ace’s already sped-up heart-rate, went seconds faster. The collection of little papers in his hands with a tattered cover was far too familiar.
“They sound so determined to find you two.”
“What did you do to them!?”
When Trey turned his head over his shoulder the sneer he gave, bore into Ace's soul like a needle. Flashes of the suffocating pain the night before demanding he fix his demeanor immediately.
“Quiet boy.” The command was like a heat rod, sweltering from such a short distance. He looked away from those golden eyes for his own sake. “I won’t be doing anything to them if you behave.”
The final warning hung in the air with the door now unlocked. The metal door swinging open was a cruel mirror of when they first accepted the invitation to eat some more. There were tables of sweets and pastries along the cracking walls of the room. A table with a checkered tablecloth and a painted chair were placed off to the right side of the room; waiting for someone to enjoy the decorative plating on its surface. But unlike the day they first arrived a metal cage was hanging from the ceiling and his brother Deuce was in it.
“I’m glad you ate. At least hunger won’t be the last thing on your mind.”
Trey’s off-handed comment was ignored as Ace ran to clutch at the bars separating him from Deuce. As best as they could they hugged one another, the cold and rusted bars a constant reminder of their unfortunate circumstance.
“Deuce I can’t let this happen! I have to do something!”
Deuce shook his head,” No, if you do anything bad he’ll eat you too! You’ve got to get back home and find Dad!”
Ace pulled at his orange strands, “I can’t he has (Y/n).”
Deuce’s serious face, quivered. His brave instructions became mute as he imagined their youngest sibling unknowingly falling into the same trap they did.
“You have to protect them. Please, Ace.”
The blue-haired boy couldn’t speak anymore his nose running and tears falling again. All he could do was clutch at Ace’s hands, attempting to put his forehead against the bars to feel his brother's. Ace was crying too, barely standing as he held onto his brother.
“Are you done? I’m not getting any younger over here.”
Trey's snide remark was not appreciated, nor was his giant hand pulling at the rags of his clothes, shoving him toward the oven. Ace didn’t need to ask for Trey to point at the brush and pan on the floor.
“Clean up the oven. The metal earrings from my last meal will make him taste worse.”
Ace murmured his distaste as he opened the oven door. Looking into the deep black mouth of the oven, it amazed him that whole people could fit in there.
It also gave him a devilish idea.
“Uhm I don’t know how to.”
Trey turning towards him was frightening, the black coloring around his eyes flaring with such disgust.
“Are you troubled? You just go in and sweep the ash at the floor of the oven.”
Ace pretended to look into the oven before jumping back, “Are you sure there’s not someone down here?”
The witch was prepared to punish the boy but he thought of the toddler upstairs. He had dreamed of the day, he would be called to check the closet for monsters. He figures if he’s keeping the defiant one, he should show some of the same care that he’ll be showing for (Y/n).
It’s all too easy for Trey to climb inside, having done so on his own, hundreds of times before. Crawling to the back he felt the child coming up beside him, immediately making him grab the head of the boy.
Ace felt his stomach flip. Had he figured him out?
“We can’t go in at the same time, wait ‘til I’m done.”
“O-okay.”
As instructed Ace crawled back out, watching how the witch's body fully disappeared into the oven. Once his feet passed the threshold of the oven’s opening, he didn’t hesitate to close the oven door. Jumping up to flick the lock closed, Ace ignored the angry banging as he pulled at the red-colored lever to turn on the oven.
The feeling of the heat flickering to light brought a successful comfort to the orange-headed boy. The frantic banging from within the oven was as frightening as the demonic screaming from within.
“W-wait but the keys! He still has them!”
Ace assured his brother with the jingling object in his hand. Deuce pulled him into a teary hug once he’d been freed from the metal cage. The smell of sweat and burning flesh, never being so enticing. The moment between the two stopped as the banging became more and more apparent; the lock clicking as it held the oven closed.
“Let’s get out of here before he breaks out of there.”
“I agree.”
Deuce is the first to run through the door and out the basement; likely because of his time in the metal cage. Ace on the other hand faltered, snatching an armful of the pastries lining the room. He flipped the bird at the furnace and ran to lock the door to the basement door. Before he did, he took a moment to pay his respects to those before him. Bowing his head at the rows of shoes and belongings he’d organized, he apologized again before snatching a satchel. With the final locking of the basement door, Ace lets Deuce run up the stairs to search for their little sibling.
Allowing Ace to have free reign of the upper floor that had deceived them before. He was never considered a good kid but he hardly saw the appeal when he had no qualms about breaking whatever he couldn’t take.
“It almost makes this all worth it!”
Deuce, on the other hand, found you easily. The room had a distinct smell that almost made him feel safe. Going out on a limb he found his baby sibling curled up underneath a fluffy blanket. He easily tucked his arms underneath to carry them, he stopped to notice the spool of wool falling from their hand. Deuce put two and two together; smiling at the sleeping toddler in his arms.
“Thanks to you, (Y/n). We’ll all get to go home.”
The trip back was like a minor stroll. The original dangers of the forest were diminished to minor nuisances in comparison to the horrors they’d endured. Of course, the two still had other things to worry about when they did return home.
“What are we supposed to do about the step-lady?”
“Hm, I don’t know maybe we should push her into the oven too.”
Ace laughed and usually, Deuce would scold him for the macabre joke. But Deuce didn’t really consider that a joke nor was he completely against it. The brothers had plenty to think about as they each took turns holding their snoozing sibling.
It’s probably best they didn’t look back at the candy house.
For they might be filled with dread at force they awakened.
#yandere x reader#yandere x you#lovelyyandereaddictionpoint#yanderexrea#yandere#yanderes#yandere twisted wonderland#yandere twst#yandere twst x reader#platonic yanderes#platonic yandere#cannabilism#tw child death#platonic yandere x reader#platonic yandere trey clover#platonic yandere ace trappola#platonic yandere deuce spade#yandere x gn reader#yandere x gender neutral reader#yandere trey clover#yandere deuce spade#yandere ace trappola#yandere platonic#platonic yandere twisted wonderland
347 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ghost is training you on interrogation techniques and thinks you’re a lost case. He’s wrong.
———————————————————————
He unfolds a case of what looks like surgical equipment on the wooden table.
“Are you going to check my teeth for cavities, Lt.?” You joke, but he doesn’t laugh. He never does.
He picks up something that looks like a wrench and shows it to you.
“What’s this for?” He asks, to which you reply, with the utmost confidence that it looks like that tool your grandfather used when you were a kid to break the bathroom door because you locked yourself in there.
He shuts his eyes and holds his breath.
“See, I didn’t want to eat my vegetables, and-”
“Enough.”
“That’s what I told them; no more veg-”
“Stop with the focken veggies.”
“You don’t like them either, huh?”
He lets out a long exhale and pinches the bridge of his nose.
“I don’t think you’re fit for this.” He finally says.
But you are. There's a reason why you are here, and it’s because you’re damn good at your job. Sure, you never learned how to conduct an interrogation the way Ghost understands—in a physical and rather brutal manner—but, you had your ways.
“I beg to differ, Lt.” You oppose him.
“You can beg as much as you want, soldier,” he replies, “but you’ll never be able to make someone beg for mercy.”
You look at the interrogation tools on the table and point at them. “These are unethical, by the way.”
“These,” he says, “serve a purpose for the job and are perfectly legal.”
“So is farting in an elevator,” you reply. “Totally legal to do, yet sorta sucks for everybody else.”
“You should have gone to law school if you’re so passionate about ethical matters,” he says, “but you’re definitely not fit to be here.”
“The captain thinks otherwise.”
“The captain is wrong.” He mumbles under his breath.
“What’s that?” You ask, cupping your palm over your ear, “Are you defying the captain now, Lieutenant Riley?”
“No, I’m jus-”
“That’s against the Army Leadership Code,” you state and shuffle through your bag to get the rulebook. You open it up and clear your throat. He looks at you with that tool in his hand, eager to start plucking your fingernails one by one. Instead, he chooses words.
“I know what the guide says-”
“PAGE 45, PARAGRAPH SIX,” you shout like you’re reporting for duty, “IF AN OFFICER DISOBEYS THE-”
“Stop this instance!” He cries, but you hear none of it. You carry on undisturbed by his roaring voice. You’ll recite the entire book if that’s what’s needed. He leaves the tool on the table and approaches you, posing as an authority figure and yelling in your face. You stop for a minute and turn to look at him, explaining that what he’s doing right now is also against the code, and continue reading out loud.
“FAILURE TO OBEY A MILITARY ORDER BY A HIGHER UP-”
He throws his head up, closes his eyes, and raises his hands up to his temples.
“For the love of god and all that is holy, soldier,” he cries, “please stop talking.”
You close the booklet and throw it on the table. There’s dead silence. You approach him with a smug face and lower your gaze—but not your head—to the ground.
“Well, guess what, Lt.” You ask, and he opens his eyes to look at you.
“You just begged,” you whisper, “and I didn’t have to use any of your,” you gesture with a sneer at the tools on the table, “cheap cutlery.”
He keeps looking at you, confused. You pick a scalpel from the case.
“I thought you didn’t like my tools, soldier.” He says.
“I don’t,” you reply and pull an apple out of your bag, “but I need to cut my fruit.”
He throws his hands to his sides and looks at you, defeated, as you peel the apple.
You stop midway.
“Is the scalpel sterilised?” You ask.
“Of course, it’s sterilised!” he shouts, “we always sterilise our tools as per the rulebook!”
———————————————————————
#simon ghost riley x gn!reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x y/n#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x y/n#simon riley x you#simon riley#ghost call of duty#call of duty#modern warfare 2#ghost cod#cod ghost#cod mwii#ghost cod mwii#cod mw ghost#ghost cod mw2#cod mw2#simon ghost riley fic#simon ghost riley fanfiction
6K notes
·
View notes
Text
Legend has very strange priorities
Fanfic prompt: Ravio and Legend have the weirdest relationship in the entire chain and it literally is the equivalent of a girl who had a perfect dream partner and then afterwards just settled for the least likely weirdo to abandon her
Like Legend definitively has no idea what a standard relationship is
It is either perfect or messy as hell with lots of issues from both sides
the chain talks about romance during a quiet moment (only the older ones over alcohol)
Time speaks about Malon and how much he loves her
Sky is not passing the opportunity to talk about Zelda
Twilight is talking about how a girl he loved left him and how he had to accept that she had left him for the safety of Hyrule
Warriors talks about some dates he had with some random women and doesn’t pass the chance to slander Cia for being a weird creep
And then Legend's turn starts
And he tells them the abridged story about how he met Ravio (because he will start crying if he has to talk about Marin)
But does it so poorly that everyone now thinks that Legend is in a relationship with a living, breathing red flag
Because who breaks into other peoples houses sets up a shop and scams you in your own god damn house
Then has the audacity to steal the weapons you were forced to rent from you if you get injured
And just rerent them to YOU
And then married you less then a month later to get a legal way to stay in Hyrule as an immigrant
And still is squatting at your house with their illegal weapons selling gig
And the only reason why you are not reporting on this madness is because you know for certain that he won’t leave you as your first lover did
Like afterwards the chain contemplated absolutely everything legend has ever done
Because his preservation skills on their adventure are not human
But he apparently sees nothing wrong with that relationship he has
Warriors already knew Ravio and his already low opinion on the scammer just dropped to below hell itself
Because no matter how much they argue Legend is his annoying younger brother who he won’t let down by letting him continue that mess of a relationship
Because Warriors knows how utterly awful such people can be and only barely escaped such a relationship himself with Cia
And now their new argument topic is about how awful Ravio seems and While Warriors is determined to make Legend see the truth about his supposedly terrible relationship
Legend not noticing that Warriors is serious about an argument for once accidentally makes it worse
Warriors: Do you think that he won't leave you if you go on adventures
Legend : he definitely won’t leave my house so no worries about that one
Warriors: ….?
Legend : I have high standards afterall
Warriors *genuinely concerned*: those are not standards that is basic decency what the actual…!?,?,”?!
Legend : he won’t even sell my stuff if he is feeling nice ,because he is a good boyfriend
Warriors: LINK WTF ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT THAT IS NOT FINE AT ALL
Legend : he also has never hurt me for no good reason so stop being hypocritical about it for no god damn reason (talking about that one time when Ravio had to slap him out of shock or when he did his stitches or similar necessary pain)
Warriors: WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK !!?!?!?,!!!?!
Legend : it didn’t even hurt that much honestly it was just a slight sting if anything
And by that point Warriors was ready to execute somebody because his brother truly says everything like it is something nice of his partner
Spoiler it was not Legend
Twilight joined as well when Legend told him how much Ravio likes bunnies and how it probably keeps their entire relationship together
Because that is just wrong to diminish someone’s abilities into just that one thing ( Legend should stop with the self depriveing jokes for his husband’s sake )
By the time the chain was in Legend's Hyrule again everyone was out for blood
#linked universe#lu wind#lu time#lu legend#lu sky#lu warriors#lu wild#lu hyrule#lu four#lu twilight#hyrule warriors#link's awakening#misunderstandings#the chain is having a crisis right now#time is a mess#and#also#Time has Ingo flashbacks over that situation#albw ravio#lu ravio#Ravio has no idea what is about to happen to him
351 notes
·
View notes
Text
I think I'm going to get cancelled for this.
Perhaps my most honest opinion as a Jikooker so far.
Something that has always bothered me about Jikookers is how they hold Jungkook to different standards than Jimin. I’ve often seen more than one person criticize Jungkook for something he did or didn’t do—whether it’s for looking at Tae in a certain way, saying something nice to him, or not doing something —while similar behaviours by Jimin are overlooked. Jimin has always been close to Tae; we’ve often seen them cuddling or saying sweet things to each other. Tae even told Jimin that he “likes him the most.” Yet, for some reason, Jimin’s actions don’t seem to provoke similar criticism or disappointment among Jikookers, who often view Jimin and Tae’s friendship as perfectly acceptable and even celebrated because, of course, Jimin and Tae are friends! Soulmates! And that’s great! That’s how it should be. But if Jungkook were to do any of these things, the world would end. How could Jungkook possibly do that? It obviously means he doesn’t care about Jimin, that they’re not close, etc., etc.
Jungkook is the one who has to make grand gestures. He has to be special with Jimin ALL THE TIME, and not just that—he has to be special by the standards of their supposed fans; otherwise, it doesn’t count. Jimin can reach for the moon for Jungkook, and many wouldn’t care. It wouldn’t mean much. Jungkook has to reach for the sun for Jimin for people to “believe” that he cares about him. And to believe jikook is at least really close.
Jungkook can’t be sassy with Jimin; he can’t push him, and he can’t say no to him because poor Jimin! It means Jungkook doesn’t care about him. But Jimin can do these things, and no one says anything. Jimin can hit Jungkook or be sassy with him, right? Because Jimin is “delicate”? So it’s not the same. Do you know how incredibly offensive that is? And the worst part is that many of you don’t even realize it! And I’m sure that after reading this, many will insult me, block me, or unfollow me because, how dare I? I can already imagine some saying that I’m defending Jungkook and that I don’t care about Jimin, completely missing my point.
You validate the possibility of Jikook being real based on what Jungkook does or says—or doesn’t do or say.
And that’s the “fear” many of you have with the upcoming episodes of the show. You don’t care if VMin declare their love in an episode; you don’t care if you see Jimin and Jungkook together cuddling on the bed, because if Jungkook interacts with Tae in any way, that will cancel out any interaction he has had or will have with Jimin.
Why, for many of you, do the interactions Jungkook has with Tae carry more weight than those he has with Jimin? Why do the interactions Jungkook has with Tae carry more weight than those Jimin has with Tae? Why do we have to weigh the interactions of three people who know each other far better than any of us?
And yes, I know you’ll excuse yourselves with, “The problem is the subgroup…” but why does what they say have to hold any validity? Their opinion, like ours, doesn’t influence anything those three men do, and by this point, that should be obvious to everyone. Haters can say what they want; it won’t change anything. Don’t pay attention to what they say. Just report, block, and ignore as necessary, and enjoy the show. Enjoy what Jimin and Jungkook decide to share with us. And if they want to share their friendship with Tae, ANOTHER MEMBER OF BTS, well, great!
Do you know why the subgroup has never stopped invading our spaces, saying whatever nonsense they come up with? Because they know it bothers many of you or us. Jimin, Jungkook, and Tae might never know what’s said on social media, and that doesn’t matter to the subgroup because their real target is us.
I’ve always said that for tkk to be real, it depends on Jikook not being real. Meanwhile, Jikook only depends on Jimin and Jungkook to be real. The subgroup knows this, but for some reason, they believe that by getting rid of Jikookers, they would get rid of Jikook. That’s not how it works, but that’s how they see it. That’s why they attack us ALL THE TIME.
So, stop with the PENDEJADAS. Because everything I’ve seen is just that, PENDEJADAS. At the end of the day, we don’t know these three men, and if nothing between them seems to be going wrong, we need to respect that, no matter what the HATERS say.
And I’m not going to be hypocritical and claim that I’ve never side-eyed some of the things Tae has done involving Jimin and Jungkook together, but that doesn’t mean I hate him or blame him for anything. Yet, that’s exactly what many of you are doing. Some openly admit it, while others pretend not to. You often start your explanations or opinions with, “I don’t hate Tae, but…”—and that “but” negates the beginning of the sentence.
And that makes all this sadder because much of what I’ve said here applies to the subgroup, and nothing would embarrass me more than reading or hearing that the subgroup and we are the same.
173 notes
·
View notes
Text
What to do when you’ve “tried everything” to Shift Realities.


⋆˙⟡♡ shadow work.
one of the most important things, in my opinion. unlocking deeper reasons why you’d like to shift & deconstructing limiting beliefs that may be holding you back can help you come to to a conclusion on what could be damaging to your journey.
questions specifically for reality shifting or not, they help you get a better understanding of yourself.
⋆˙⟡♡ hobbies.
if you’re someone whose hyper focused on shifting, learning to calm the mind & put energy into something other then shifting may help take some of the pressure off of trying to shift.
⋆˙⟡♡ learn manifestation & how to lucid dream.
some people think shifting is a form of manifesting so starting at the very basics helps a ton. especially manifestation & the law of attraction / assumption. it’s a good background to know & understand.
⋆˙⟡♡ learn how to meditate.
this one can also relate to the one above. i put these separate because shifting methods are meditations. if you don’t know how to meditate & quiet the mind properly, id recommend learning. headspace has some pretty good free “starter” meditations.
⋆˙⟡♡ build up self confidence & a positive mindset.
confidence & positive thinking are linked to better performance & play a part in your worldview. your mind has the ability to shape your world. when we think positive, the wold around us follows the mindset. a book id recommend about this “feeling is the secret” by neville goddard.
⋆˙⟡♡ stop doing methods.
if you’ve been doing methods & they aren’t working for you — you don’t need to keep sound them. you can shift with or without one. if you want to lie down & meditate & shift like that, go ahead. let yourself get distracted, let your mind wander. it’s okay it if does. everyone leans & does things differently. much like different leaning styles, there are different ways to shift.
⋆˙⟡♡ stop trying to define shifting.
so what if shifting is lucid dreaming or astral projection ? that doesn’t matter because you’ll still be experiencing it. & what if shifting is the multiverse theory or the consciousness theory ? great ! adapting the mindset that it doesn’t matter what shifting is because it’s still something helps take the logical aspect of it off of your mind because in the end it’s a very real phenomenon that thousands of people have reported on.
⋆˙⟡♡ the ego.
let go of your ego & surrender to yourself completely. trust yourself. this does not mean letting go of your desires & expectations.
also thank you for 600 followers 🤍🤍 !!
#reality shifting#desired reality#shiftblr#shifting#shiftok#shifting motivation#shifting realities#shifter
179 notes
·
View notes
Text
Long Post
I’m starting to feel people don’t understand what espionage truly means. I recently came across this post that said Tamlin was never a double agent and was only playing the good guy to save himself, and there was a list supporting the claim. So, here we go.
Fair warning: this is needlessly elaborate, includes many tangents and requires thinking from perspectives outside of the explicit narrative.
Before we begin, let’s get one thing clear, just because Night flaunts Azriel as their spymaster, it doesn’t mean that’s how spies operate. Revealing their identity risks compromising future missions and the people close to them. IRL spies lead double lives for decades for this very reason and only a select few are trusted with the knowledge depending on who they report to or who serve as their getaway.
‘Even Lucien was in the dark.’ Dagdan and Brannagh are daemati. Involving more people in the plan means more sources for the twins to exploit and more possible leverage for Hybern. Lucien could be held captive or threatened with death to force Tamlin into furthering the war. Their friendship was taken advantage of by Amarantha twice before. It isn’t a matter of trust but of protection, the way Feyre isn’t involved either. Besides, if Tamlin is compromised and found plotting against Hybern, the first step would be to check Lucien’s mind, leaving with no one in power to protect Spring.
‘Tamlin let Hybern settle in Spring.’ Tamlin grants access to a troop to survey the Wall, which is different from allowing a whole army into his territory. With his defences intact, he still has the upper hand. Managing and controlling the movements of a troop within his borders is much easier than stopping an army, which is exactly what Lucien does—accompanying Jurian and the twins to the Wall. It is after Feyre destroys Spring that they are left vulnerable, allowing the rest of the Hybern’s army camp there. Moreover, denying access to his lands would be suspicious, not letting them inspect the Wall would be suspicious. It is part of the act, playing a willing participant in upholding his end of the deal.
‘Tamlin didn’t warn the other courts.’ After Amarantha’s reign, while the other High Lords are rebuilding their courts and making allies, Tamlin is invested in freeing Feyre from her bargain. Among the six courts, one is Spring’s enemy for harbouring Lucien, one steals Feyre every month, and two are fairly new High Lords Tamlin doesn’t know. And if Night’s visit to Summer is common knowledge, Tarquin ‘allows’ Rhysand to parade Feyre again after witnessing everything Under the Mountain. Clearly, Tamlin doesn’t know who to trust.
Considering he chooses to warn them, a ‘Hey, Hybern is coming for us all’ isn’t useful enough when it’s already expected after Amarantha’s reign. In fact, it would have encouraged Hybern to act before the courts could recuperate or even unleash the Cauldron in whatever capacity. This is evidenced by the attack on Velaris when they attempted to gain the mortal Queens on their side. Hybern has been amassing armies for years, centuries even. In order to win, Prythian needs more than a ‘warning’ which Tamlin manages to obtain.
Moreover, the battle of Adriata occurs right after Feyre returns to Night (iirc a week or two). Since Spring is in tatters, Tamlin isn’t in a position to help anyone, especially as Hybern attacks from the seas and not Spring lands. Also, his emissary, Lucien, and every other powerful player on his side are removed from the board.
Besides, who would believe his words when not long ago he was running around like a depraved lunatic to save the woman he loves, and none of them cared? Who would believe it’s more than his paranoia or even a ploy to get her back without concrete proof?
‘Spring was already broken.’ From the beginning, it is clear that Tamlin has his people’s loyalty. His sentries beg to be sacrificed to free him from the curse. When the lands grow dangerous with not many left to defend it, the people flee. After the curse is broken, they all return—one of them being Alis. Despite the reduced population, with Amarantha’s cronies still at large and creatures roaming wild, Spring is recovering and the people are happy. Feyre herself notes how content they are to be in Tamlin’s presence.
When Feyre is kidnapped, Tamlin kills the sentries on guard, which is meant to turn everyone against him. But it’s not that simple. Feyre would have officially become Lady of Spring if she weren’t ‘stolen’ during the wedding. The sentries are entrusted to protect their Lady—whom they love and respect. They are aware of the bargain. They are aware Feyre was killed once. They are aware Feyre is a target—as an asset or Tamlin’s weakness. It is under their watch that she is taken from their home. When they couldn’t even stop his third-in-command from walking in, disarming everyone, and carrying Feyre away, how are they expected to protect her from the most powerful High Lord of Prythian?
And, Rhysand is not just an enemy of Tamlin. He has been the villain of Prythian for five centuries and possesses powers to twist someone’s mind. One outburst from Tamlin isn’t enough to make him a monster in the eyes of his sentries when Feyre is now Rhysand’s hostage. The people didn’t abandon Spring when Tamlin made a deal with Hybern because they knew there was no one to help them.
Everything that happens after Tamlin, Feyre and Lucien return from Hybern’s castle is a calculated move. Feyre admits that it is her goal to destroy everything Tamlin has, including his court and people. She never opens up about how she’s treated in Night, even during the one-week stays. Later, she accuses Rhysand of raping her over the past months and tricking her with the fake mating bond. She even takes the dramatic route with ‘if you peer into the darkness long enough, the darkness peers back’ (paraphrased) saying this to Lucien. There is no reason for anyone to doubt Tamlin’s actions when Feyre proves every one of their fears true.
Feyre doesn’t stop there. She exploits the people’s faith in her and manipulates them. During the Summer Solstice, she positions herself as more valuable and blessed than the people already claim her to be. With these new beliefs she creates, she becomes a bigger prize for the likes of Rhysand, Beron, and even Hybern. She constantly interrupts the conversations and corners Tamlin into decisions that are less than ideal, which he complies with to put on a united front. She exploits Tamlin’s trauma, abuses him, and pushes him to a breakdown in order to play his victim. She knows of Ianthe’s plans and lets the nagas attack using that to her advantage.
The lashings are pivotal in revealing who Tamlin is to the people, but there is a flaw in the narrative. Feyre was stolen from the mansion more than once. Rhysand and Morrigan proved that the mansion is not safe enough. Now, it is not even guarded against a few nagas and the sentry loses the keys after falling asleep? This is a question of their competence and loyalty. Even then, Tamlin waits till the morning to execute the punishment and Feyre controls the sentry’s memories until the very last minute, ensuring Tamlin has little chance to back out. She twists the scenario as Tamlin’s cruelty, when it is a High Lord’s home breached and their enemies are on their lands. Feyre exploits Tamlin’s fears, pushing him to take drastic measures and playing the saint who expected him to prove his goodness. If she cared so much about the sentry, why didn’t she force Ianthe to confess? Ultimately, she goes as far as manipulating them into believing that Tamlin let the twins hunt her. She breaks their trust in their High Lord. Everything Feyre does or says is a lie until Tamlin cracks (if you want to draw parallels, it’s exactly what Rhysand claims to have done Under the Mountain).
This is often ignored or used as proof of Tamlin’s failings. But, Alis leaves Spring because she knows that Hybern is not the only threat. Though she doesn’t hate or blame Feyre, she understands that soon Spring will fall because of her and Night.
So no, Spring was not broken. It was more put together than Night, where Rhysand has to threaten one half of his army and buy the loyalty of the other with false promises. Spring is loyal to their High Lord and their court until Feyre manipulates them. She admits to ‘priming Spring to fall’ and ‘baiting Tamlin’. She even wants to take over Spring with Night’s army after she destroys it. She is the reason for their downfall, not Tamlin, who is stuck in a no-win situation with everyone working against him—Ianthe, Feyre, Hybern, and even Lucien after a point.
The real question: Why is Night not held accountable for Hybern’s invasion, but Tamlin is?
Rhysand is aware of Hybern’s movements long before Tamlin makes the deal. He doesn’t trust other courts or warn them or ally with them—exactly what Tamlin is condemned for. Rhysand betrays Summer by stealing their most valuable relic and weapon. It’s only after he fails that he reaches out to other courts for support. In fact, his failure fast-tracks the war—Hybern was counting on Inner Circle’s martyr complex which they all played right to the T.
Even forgiving all this as good intentions, they still keep everything under wraps. None of the courts are warned, including Summer and Autumn, who share their borders with Spring, which Hybern is taking over first. For two months, all they do is wait for Feyre. For two months, they don’t attempt to unite other courts to stop Hybern or make Feyre’s escape easy. They don’t even rally their Illyrian and Darkbringer armies until Feyre arrives. They have the best spymaster and the best network of spies, but they also have the habit of always pulling his sources out at crucial times. They have the most powerful daemati who never uses his powers to find who his potential comrades are but has no problem invading minds to assert his dominance. In the two months, Night comes to the tough decision to hold a High Lords meeting after Feyre returns.
Besides, Feyre claims to spy in Spring but finds nothing useful about Hybern’s plans, which is proved in the meeting. Feyre is a High Lady who can’t keep her emotions in check and destroys the one court that shields the mortal lands from the rest of Prythian, leaving both sides vulnerable to Hybern. Tamlin could have stalled the infiltration with his army, exchanged information with the twins or Jurian, or negotiated his people’s safety in exchange for more access to his lands which would have been the strategic move here. But Feyre undermines every single leverage Spring has in this situation.
Tamlin siding with Hybern is similar to Rhysand working for Amarantha. No one knows of his intentions until the very end either. There’s no proof Rhysand was in favour of Prythian. He is the one who told Amarantha about the human girl in Spring only days before they ran out of time to break the curse. He is the reason Tamlin sends Feyre back to the mortal lands. He is the reason Feyre is abused, tortured, and killed Under the Mountain. None of his actions support his words. Then, why is it hard to believe Tamlin who delivers what he promised? He keeps his cover until Feyre is in danger again. He brings Beron’s forces to join the war. If he was merely playing a hero, he didn’t have to do any of this. Tamlin was a double agent and he did a better job than Feyre, who managed to notify her Inner Circle about the twins she killed anyway.
See, the issue is not with the character but the structure of the plot. Did SJM plan it thoroughly? No. Was it executed well? No, there isn’t enough foreshadowing to convince the readers. Despite this, it still works to some extent because Feyre is an unreliable narrator. When she arrives in Spring, she is determined to ruin Tamlin’s life and expose him as a monster. She nitpicks every one of his choices, words, and actions. She glosses over his good deeds and reassures herself that they are his manipulative tactics. Even if Tamlin laid his plans out to her, she wouldn’t believe it—that’s how far she is in her rage and vengeance.
The entire espionage arc doesn’t exist to redeem Tamlin, but it is a device for Rhysand and Feyre to magically have everything they need. Tamlin is not a character SJM cares about. He is a villain and will always remain a villain. Had it been someone she wanted to redeem, there would be a 12-page monologue in the High Lords meeting with tears and a sob story.
None of this is favouring one point of view over the other, but it’s important to consider the mentality of other characters in such situations instead of believing every word from the chosen narrator. This is a major problem in this fandom where readers take Feyre and Rhysand’s views at face value and treat it as absolute truth when the situation is much more complex. SJM doesn’t respect her readers’ intelligence and writes with complete abandon. As long as you lap up whatever she offers and glorify her books, she has no reason to write a better story. Instead of hating on the characters like Tamlin, maybe you should be questioning the writer for such an unconvincing and subpar plot.
76 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Winter Night Made Fire
Lucien x reader (he's not mated to Elain in this)
a/n: I really cant stop writing about wanting beron dead lol
word count: 1.8k
warnings: none, its a lil angsty but only if you squint

The days seemed longer. Whenever he was away they dragged on for ages. Time, so much time passed between each of his visits. You understood, somewhat. He was emissary, first for Spring, then for Night, now… Now you weren’t sure where he was or who’s agenda he was furthering.
You used to travel too. Only a few fae know the real reason you stay in Winter, despite the bitter cold. Because of his newfound allegiance to the Band of Exiles, Lucien isn’t included in that list.
It stings. Knowing that the last time you saw him was Starfall, six months ago.
The letters you receive from home don’t mention him. Even if he wanted to write, he doesn’t know where you are. With a long breath you try to forget that you don’t know where he is, either.
Azriel had sent you here to monitor Autumn and Spring. You were to report any movement in the southern courts. Anything, no matter how trivial. So far you’d gathered that Beron was meeting with Tamlin once a month. Your sources say he leaves unhappy each time.
The daylight in Winter is shorter than the rest of Prythian. Nights are incredibly long and, if no one is warming your bed, lonely as well. You spend as much time as possible reading correspondence, writing letters, coordinating meetings. Trying to stay one step ahead of them, of whatever it is that Beron is masterminding. It’s in the air. Whispers carrying rumors of unrest.
It felt like the threat of conflict loomed in perpetuity on this land. The war with Hybern was less than three years ago. But Koschei… Lucien would probably be of use right now with his knowledge.
But he wasn’t to be trusted. He wasn’t anywhere to be found.
You know it's too late when you can’t see the moon from your window, so you clean up all of the precious information and place it in the scattered hiding spots in your room. Before closing the curtains, you look at the snow covered hills that seem to go on forever. If you hadn’t been looking at those same hills for months, you might think they are breathtaking.
The next morning Vivianne greets you at breakfast with a smile. “Good morning, did you sleep well?”
You touch your face, wondering if your exhaustion is that obvious. “I was up late reading, didn’t get much sleep at all.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I wish I could say that you could rest, but we have a guest arriving today and Kallias asked if you could receive him since you already know each other, it might make him more comfortable to see a friendly face.”
You scrunch your brows, this was the first you’d heard of a visitor. “Who is visiting?”
“Lucien Vanserra.”
You take a beat too long to respond. “Oh.”
“You do know him, don’t you? He’s also emissary for Night so I just assumed.”
“Yes- yes, I know him. I just have not seen him in a while.” The Mother worked in mysterious ways. You could not tell her outright that Lucien was not necessarily part of the Night Court, or any court, without spoiling the opportunity to learn why.
What did he want? Why did he leave?
So an hour later you are by Kallias’ side as Lucien, whom you used to call yours, is escorted through the greeting hall. It's an encounter of stoic faces. Seemingly no one is particularly happy to be here. You go through the formal protocols with a gritted jaw. Both of his hands seem intact, he could have written. Sure, he didn’t know where you were but he could have asked. He could have given signs of life.
“Thank you again for hosting me on short notice, but it is pertinent that we meet.”
“Of course, would you like y/n to join us?”
Without even glancing your way he says “no.”
You vowed to yourself you’d chew his head off later, when no prying eyes would see. It was only fair you sit out the meeting, you told yourself as you walked the length of the hall towards the library, your assignment is classified. As far as Kallias and Vivianne know, you are just an emissary.
You see him again at dinner. Even though the food is delicious, you cannot stomach eating any of it. Not when he’s sitting across from you, the portrait of nonchalance. It surprises you when he breaks the silence. “Winter seems to suit you, y/n.”
Stabbing his hands with your fork would be so easy, he’s right there… But no, you compose yourself before answering.
“Thank you, Vivianne and Kallias have been very gracious.”
“I wonder why Rhysand sent you here, doesn’t Morrigan usually handle emissary duties for this court?”
You nudge him under the table. This was inappropriate conversation. “She does, but she’s been held up in the Continent for some time.”
“Ah.”
Vivianne speaks next. “Did you meet in the Night court?”
You answer before he can. “No.”
The High Lord and Lady look at you expectantly. “Well the first time we met was in the Autumn Court, when we were children. A lifetime ago, really.”
“That’s right, I forget you are originally from Autumn.”
“Lord y/l/n was a member of my fathers council.” Lucien clarifies.
“Were you friends back then?” Kallias asks, clearly trying to understand your dynamic. If only he knew how, for most of your life, Lucien was… You couldn’t bring yourself to even think about it.
“I apologize, I’m not feeling well. I’m going to retire for the night.” You get up and Vivianne asks “what’s wrong?”
“I think the lack of sleep is catching up to me. I’ll be better by morning.”
When you reach your room, you know that trying to sleep is futile with the way your heart is beating. You pace around the bed as you try to calm down, try to find some peace. But knowing he’s most likely staying in this very wing, in this very hall… After being apart from him for so long- A knock at the door brings you back. You hope it's Vivianne but deep down you know it isn’t.
He knocks again. You know he’ll knock all night if he has to.
When you open the door he’s about to knock again, fist raised in a staunch effort.
“What?” You roll your eyes as you say it, lips immediately falling in a flat line. He has the nerve to smirk before asking “can I come in?”
You step to the side and resist the urge to trip him as he walks.
Torture, this distance between you is nothing short of it. He has been your most trusted ally, your best friend, on several occasions more than that… But six months and no word. That had never happened before. Not even when he was in Spring. Not even when Amarantha ruled.
“Aren’t you going to explain yourself?”
“How have you been?”
Your arms cross over your chest as you widen your eyes at him. “Fine, now explain.”
He sighs. “It will take a while.”
“Then give me a summary.”
He closes the distance between you slightly, so his words come out in almost a whisper. “We are working to overthrow Beron. I’m here securing the allegiance of the bordering courts. In the meeting Kallias agreed to support us and with that Beron is surrounded. We move next week.”
You must have heard wrong. “What?”
“We are expecting little resistance from Autumn, most likely the few guards that Eris hasn’t been able to sway but they will be easy to defeat. We have the numbers, y/n. We could go home.”
Your hand juts out before you can think about what you’re doing. A clean slap lands across his face. In your ire you can’t feel bad about it. “Are you insane? You know who I receive my orders from. I must report anything I learn and I can promise you that Rhysand won't like that you disappeared to form a coup. Did you even think this through? Or did Eris persuade you?”
His hand is on his cheek as he waits for you to finish.
“What support do you have from Spring? Huh? Tamlin in his beast form? And Winter? I know that the most they can offer is a few archery squadrons and Summer is too preoccupied with Adriata to even think about sending anything your way. So what exactly is your plan? Secrecy doesn’t seem to be a priority and a lot can happen in a week. It’s just like you to do this too. You’re gone for months and when you return it's for more court bullshit.”
“Are you done?”
You huff and storm to the other side of the room, where the window overlooks the hills.
“You know it was only a matter of time, y/n.” He’s standing behind you now, chin almost resting on your shoulder.
“It’s dangerous Lu… and for what? What will change if Eris is High Lord? Everything else will stay the same.”
His head comes to rest in the crook of your shoulder and his arms begin to snake at your waist. “Things will change, slowly at first but they’ll change.”
“Why do you want to go back? After everything that happened…” you can’t keep a coherent thought with him touching you like that.
“I’m tired of being an exile. I miss Autumn and its villages. I- they deserve better too.”
“Why not ask Rhysand for help? Feyre would do anything for you and their numbers are better than all the southern courts combined-”
“This isn’t his battle. We don’t need his help and we certainly don’t need to be indebted to him.” Your hands tangle with his and you squeeze them, relishing the fact that he was here.
“Come with me. Let's go home, y/n.”
Suddenly you cannot come up with a reason to say no. You miss Autumn too. The crisp air, the cinnamon flavored candies, the cabins that smelled of fire and apples and yams. Nothing felt like home, not really. You knew it had nothing to do with the land itself, but everything to do with the male wrapped around you.
“I’ll go if you promise to stay by my side. Where you go, I go.”
He chuckled. “You missed me that much?”
You scoff. “Yes, you doofus.”
“Where I go, you go.” He seals the promise with a kiss on your shoulder.
You begin to melt. “I’m sorry about slapping you.”
Lucien spins you in his arms so you are facing him. “It 's alright. I deserved it after disappearing on you like that.”
“You did. But I feel a little bad.” So you stand on your tip toes and his cheek, then the corner of his mouth and then his nose.
He groans, heat biting at his fingertips. “Don’t tease.”
You chuckle and give in, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that quickly becomes desperate.
#acotar#acowar#acofas#acotar fanfiction#acosf#acomaf#lucien vanserra#a court of thorns and roses#lucien x you#lucien acotar#pro lucien#lucien vandaddy#lucien x reader#lucien autumn#autumn court#autumn#winter court#a court of silver flames#a court of mist and fury#a court of wings and ruin#a court of frost and starlight#acotar fanfic#fanfic
81 notes
·
View notes
Note
HELLO HELLO HELLO HELLO HELLOO. BSD REQUEST AS PROMISED YOUR HONOR
Dazai and Ranpo play date headcanons? They are masters of avoiding work… And Kunikida can’t be mad at babies can he?
⿻ 🔎∿ ˚ LITTLE! RANPO & OSAMU
waahhh finally getting to this! thanks for your patience<3 dazai my baby sniffsniff. your verdict is… regression!
୨୧ 𓂃

୨୧ 𓂃
1 ﹒ Dazai and Ranpo skipping work for something pointless is not uncommon one bit, it’s simply harder to come up with reasons to skip out on work when you feel like a kid!
2 ﹒ Sitting at a desk and filling out reports for hours at a time is no fun, Dazai’s well aware of that! It’s much much easier to simply have Kunikida do it, and of course, if he regresses, Kunikida wouldn’t have the heart to be mad at him for it this time, right?
3 ﹒ So, slipping out was easy! Of course people would suspect something, but that’s not his problem! And it doesn’t take much longer for him to bump into a colleague of his, yes yes, a super respectable detective, one with a pacifier in his hand, one who seems shocked to see him.
4 ﹒ Wasn’t it Ranpo who said that everything’s… predictable.. or something? For once, this made little sense to Dazai, and it didn’t matter much to him anyway, he needed somewhere secure to hide out.
5 ﹒ But! Before Dazai can leave, Ranpo stops him with a proposal, something about showing him to the store so they can get as much candy as they’d like. At first, Dazai’s hesitant, he’s not sure if he deserves candy in the first place, and he’s almost certain it’s beginning to bleed out onto the mask he’s put up, that hesitance that the Dazai everyone knows wouldn’t usually hold.
6 ﹒ It doesn’t take much longer for Ranpo to assure him, even less for him to persuade the other that it will be fun.
7 ﹒ However, once they take their first step outside, the cold air brushes against their faces, stinging their noses pink, and out comes Kunikida!
8 ﹒ Beginning his lecture, it doesn’t take long for him to realize the difference in their personalities, just how timid Dazai seems, how grumpy Ranpo seems, it makes sense almost instantly.
9 ﹒ Kunikida can’t be mad at babies, can he?
୨୧ 𓂃 GENERAL HEADCANNONS
1 ﹒ I fear baby regressor dazai & “big kid” ranpo resonates with me, ranpo would hold his hand everywhere all through the ADA.
2 ﹒ Kunikida has definitelyyyy gotten mad at them before when he wasn’t aware they were regressed methinks, definitely led to him hugging them for an hour straight rubbing up and down their backs gently. Like that one Gordon Ramsey meme.
3 ﹒ Kunikida keeps notes of all of their interests, how old they regress to, everything in his notebook, he would be such an attentive caregiver. You just gotta let him know! ( which those two fail to do time and time again )
4 ﹒ Ranpo & Dazai are definitely puzzle lovers when they’re regressed, it always leaves Dazai impressed when Ranpo solves them super quickly.
୨୧ 𓂃
tried super hard to keep these all positive hjahsjhe, I fear I have so many negative headcannons for dazai that it’s hard to combat them!
thanks for your request silly! mwah!
( p.s dni if you’re going to be rude, thanks. )

HEADER READS: “DAZAI & RANPO” “+ KUNIKIDA” “HEADCANNONS”
DNI BANNER READS: “NSFW DNI” “HEY, DID YOU HEAR ME?” “CHILD SAFE BLOG”
#Bsd agere#bungou stray dogs agere#bungou stray dogs#bungo stray dogs#bungo stray dogs agere#agere#age regression#sfw agereg#agere community#sfw agere#little ranpo#little ranpo edogawa#agere ranpo edogawa#agere dazai osamu#little dazai#little dazai osamu#agere dazai#Agere ranpo#cg kunikida#Caregiver kunikida#Kunikida doppo#ranpo edogawa#dazai osamu#bsd dazai#kunikida agere#Kunikida doppo agere
41 notes
·
View notes
Text
The General!Series - Part Four: Moving On: Beau 'Cyclone' Simpson x Reader
A little get well soon gift for my girl @dizzybee03
Tagging: @kmc1989 @justameresimp @agentorange9595 @lxaah11 @librarian1002
Broken Buttons (feat: Harmon Rabb)- Beau discovers the real reason you broke things off with him.
Messy - Companion piece to Broken Buttons - Beau discovers the truth about what happened that night.
Choices - Companion piece to Broken Buttons and Messy - Beau and you discuss your choices moving forward.

Sitting in court is excruciating but Beau endures it, he endures it because no matter how fucking horrified and nauseated he is, you must feel it tenfold. He can’t imagine what it must be like to sit in front of a room of your peers and describe what that man did to you, to have your story questioned and torn apart, to have someone tell you to your face that you were asking for it. They try to paint you as unstable, the kind of woman who intended to sleep her way up the ladder, whose now crying wolf because she was rebuked.
He almost punches the prosecution attorney in the mouth for the shit he says to you. It’s only Mic Brumby’s iron clad grip on his arm that stops him from launching himself across the table and strangling the man.
It’s the physical evidence that’s the worst.
You had the competency to go to the hospital afterwards, you’d been bleeding, scared when the doctor had seen you. You’ve worked with enough women through your time in Victim Support Services to know the procedures, you needed the morning after pill, medication to counteract anything that son of a bitch might have given you.
The hospital had logged you under an anonymous patient I.D. It’s something they do for victims of sexual assault when they collect evidence, when they’re not ready to file a police report.
It sickens Beau to hear the injuries you’d sustained, he hadn’t realised how violent it was, not until then.
You’re found not guilty of the offense. The jury of your peers accepts that you acted in self-defence when you broke the General’s nose, that you were too traumatised to attend work in the aftermath.
Your case, it opens doors for other women it’s happened to because you weren’t the first woman he did it to, you weren’t even the last. He’s arrested during a charity function for victims of sexual assault and the fucking irony of that astounds Beau.
You spend an hour in the shower after you give your testimony, before you fall asleep on the couch with your head in Beau’s lap. He spends the whole night, his fingers running soothingly through your hair as he begins to plan the next steps.
You’ve told him you can’t stay in Washington, that Admiral Chegwidden has granted you a transfer back to San Diego. There’s too much trauma attached to this place.
He spends the next couple of days helping you pack up your things. You throw away more away than you keep because you don’t want the bad memories following you. Harmon Rabb and Mic Brumby turn up on moving day to help carry the boxes down to the truck. Besides him, they’re the only two people who’s touch you don’t flinch away from these days.
“Thank you.” Beau tells Harm when the two of them are alone in the apartment, grabbing the final few boxes. “For bringing me here, for fighting for her.”
“Don’t thank me.” Harm says, his voice gruff as he crosses his arms over his chest and stares out of the window. “It happened on my watch. I was there that night, I should have stuck around but me and Mac were going through some shit…”
Harm shakes his head, his jaw clenching.
“It never should have happened.”
Beau sighs, shifting the box he’s carrying to his other hip.
“Ally doesn’t blame you and neither do I.” Beau tells the other man. “If it wasn’t that night, it would have been another. You heard the testimony, once he had her in his sights…”
It was the same with all the others, that son of bitch had enjoyed the chase, it made catching his prey all the more sweeter. He treated every single one of those women like a trophy, something to be hunted down, caught.
“I need you to promise that you’ll check in every once in a while, tell me how she’s doing.” Harmon says, his palm rubbing over the back of his neck.
“I will.” Beau tells Harm as he picks up the remaining box and heads towards the apartment door. “Ally may need a little time but I’ll make sure to keep in touch.”
“She’s going to get through this.” Harm reassures him as they step out into the hallway, he waits as Beau closes the door behind him, locking it up for the final time. “It’ll take some time but she has it in her.”
“I know.” Beau says as he slips the key into the mailbox for the landlord to pick up. “If anyone can make it through something like this, it's her.”
Love Beau? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.
Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!
Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#beau simpson#beau simpson x reader#beau cyclone simpson#beau cyclone simpson x reader#top gun maverick#tgm
95 notes
·
View notes
Text
I just want to feel safe - Walter Marshall fanfic. Part 1?
Okay. Preface. This story has mentions of sexual assault. This is a personal story. But I've changed a lot of the names and some of the actual story to fit the fic. I think that I've decided this is going to be a series. It's taken a lot out of me writing this but. I really love Walter and I can see this relationship growing into something more than what is here. I also think that from a healing standpoint, I'm gonna write the story I never gave myself the chance to have. Anyway. That's enough from me. I'll let you guys read the story now. I know this is a heavy topic and situation but I'm still always open to comments and feedback. Thank you guys for the support in posting this <3
Plot: OFC reports assault after 2 years and Detective Walter Marshall is assigned to her case. He will stop at nothing to help her feel safe again.
Warnings: Panic attacks, mentions of sexual assault (retelling the story of what happened.)
Unbeta'd Mistakes are totally my own and I own that. This might be a mess because honestly I was super emotional writing this but it felt good to get it all down.
Please don't share without crediting.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I’m not sure what I expected a police station to be like. Frankly I’d never really imagined myself in one. Kind of funny how things can change like that. All of a sudden you’re doing things you’d never imagine. That’s how I ended up here. In this strangely familiar looking police station. I guess maybe that’s the one thing movies and Tv got right. Police stations for the most part look exactly the same. This whole night started from a list of “Fuck it why not’s” that spiraled out of control. But that explanation alone was not enough to help the officer help me. I looked back at the petite woman in front of me. I’m sure she was a good police officer. I wasn't trying to doubt her skill. But her overly sympathetic nature and deer in the headlights look on her face was making me feel worse.
“I know this is hard.” She spoke softly, placing her hand over mine on the table. She didn’t know. She had no idea what this was like. Being attacked like this. Letting yourself become vulnerable because ‘why not’ I’d known those boys my entire life. When my brother invited me out for drinks with his friends, I didn’t have a reason not to trust them. Not to trust… him. My brother didn’t know. He couldn’t have known. He was betrayed too. “But I need you to tell me what you remember, what happened to you, so we can help you.” I looked around again At the empty gray walls. Out the window into the dark cloudy night sky. It must be almost midnight now. Anywhere but at the woman in front of me. What did she say her name was? Rachel? I focused on the empty desk chair behind her when I finally spoke.
“It doesn’t matter. I remember all of it. Every detail. But we have no case.” I muttered I looked down playing with my hands again.
“Alayna,” She said my name softly. I met her eyes again for the first time since we sat at her desk. “You don’t know that. You did the right thing coming here and reporting it. I need you to talk to me.” She pleaded with me. She didn’t understand.
“No,” I said again. “I do know.”
“How do you know we can’t help you?” She asked her eyes boring into mine. I know she wants to help. I know that but I just don’t see how they can. not after it’s been so long.
“There’s no evidence.” I said.
“Sweetheart, with all due respect you aren’t a police officer we may be able to find something you wouldn’t think to look…”
“It was two years ago.” Rachel paused then. She took a deep breath and sat back in her chair.
“2 years ago?” she repeated. I nodded. She let out a soft sigh. “Sweetie, Why did you wait so long to tell somebody?” She asked. This felt more manageable. This I at least knew the answer for. It was logical. It made sense. Well it doesn’t really make much sense but when you’re bargaining with yourself it does.
“I didn’t think it would matter. I’m still not sure it does.” I said. I swallowed hard. Now or never Alayna. You didn’t walk 3 miles to the police station, in the cold, after a panic attack to not give yourself some kind of peace. I let out a long breath and started again but then the door of the squadroom opened. A tall figure walked in. I couldn’t make out much of him at first. Just that he was very tall, 6,1 or something and had a full beard. He was wearing a heavy winter coat and beanie. I tensed a little when I watched him walk from the entrance to the desk next to Rachel’s. He shrugged off his coat revealing a thick gray sweater. He draped his coat over his chair and pulled off his beanie. His hair was a mess of dark curls. As soft and cozy as he should have looked…Something still felt intimidating about him. Maybe it was because he hadn’t spoken a word since he’d walked in the room. None of us had actually.
“Alayna,” Rachel said my name, getting my attention and finally breaking the silence. “This is detective Walter Marshall. He’s going to be working on your case.” That’s right. When I came in to report, the officer on duty at the station had to attend to a call. When I told them I wanted to report an assault, they told me that they’re psychiatrist was still in the office. I could talk to her until one of the detectives was available. I think they were afraid if they told me to come back later… I wouldn’t. They were probably right. Although I’m not quite sure if it would be because I’d lost my nerve or dying of hypothermia on the walk home. Rachel wasn’t even a detective. Was I really that out of it? Why didn’t I remember that until now?
“Okay,” was all I managed to say.
“I can stay,” she said. I'm not sure if it was for me or the detective. Maybe both. “If you’re more comfortable. If it’s easier for you. Ya know?” she asked. I shook my head and I watched as the detective…Walter, put his hand on her shoulder.
“Go home, it's been a long day,” he told her. His voice was deep but he spoke softly. And surprisingly he had an English accent. “We’ll manage,” his eyes were tired and heavy when they met mine. He offered a gentle smile. I nodded.
“You’re sure?” She asked.
“I don’t want to keep you Rachel. I can talk to the detective.” I said. She nodded.
“Okay, wait right here, just a moment while I catch him up okay? And then you two will get started.” I gave her a slight nod and just stared out the window again. Rachel and the detective went off into a side office somewhere to discuss what I’d already mentioned. This was sure to be quick now. As soon as she tells him how long it’s been, he’ll dismiss me. This was so stupid. I’d kept this to myself for this long. I knew this was a bad idea. Just as I had convinced myself to get up and leave the office door opened again.
“Thank you,” Walter’s voice said from across the room. “Get home safe.” he told Rachel as she waved goodbye. I gave her a small wave. I sat back in the chair trying to relax. But I knew I couldn’t. He came back over to the desk leaning his hip against it, crossing one foot over the other. “Are you comfortable out here or would you like to talk in my office?” He asked. “There aren’t too many people still around this late but, it would offer a bit more privacy than the open squadroom. It’s up to you.” He stated. I thought about it for a moment. Finally, I pulled my eyes from the window to look up at him.
“I think I’d feel better with a little more privacy,” I said. He gave me a sympathetic smile.
I stood up from my spot next to the desk. Then he led me out of the squadroom and down the hall to a small office. There wasn’t much, just a large desk with nothing but a computer and a travel coffee mug on it. The walls were bare other than a standard wall clock. He motioned for me to take a
seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk as he shut the door behind us. He circled around to the other side of the desk, setting a file down and taking a seat across from me.
“You’re reporting an assault, is that right?” He asked. I nodded.
“Yes, not a recent one. I’m sure Rachel informed you.” I said. I felt so ashamed of myself. I was wasting his time. Detective Marshall’s eyes met mine. I didn’t find the same overly sympathetic look in his eyes like I did with Rachel. He wasn’t pitying me. He wasn’t trying to psychoanalyze me. At the same time, it wasn’t cruel or harsh. Not even annoyed. Just open.
“She did,” he spoke after a brief pause. “But I’d like to hear the information from you myself. If that's alright with you?” He questioned. I swallowed hard. I leaned forward and folded my hands on the desk.
“I can do that.” My voice shook when I spoke. “Will I need to write a witness statement too?” I asked him. Telling this story once was going to be hard enough. Seeing it written on paper was going to be gut wrenching.
“Let’s just get through this conversation first. We’ll talk about the rest later, "he said. I nodded. He sat with his forearms leaning on the desk and his hands folded together. He pursed his lips into a tight small smile and nodded toward me. “Whenever you’re ready.” He stated. I swallowed hard. Of course it didn’t necessarily mean that. It was after midnight now. This guy probably wanted to get home. I had to get this out.
“November 12th, or well 13th I guess. It was around 1:30 or 2am so the 13th. My brother, his friends and I had gone out for his birthday. It wasn’t his birthday though, we had to wait until the weekend to celebrate because it fell during the week.” I was rambling. He needed details. I need to stop rambling. “Uh anyway, We were at a bar, earlier that night on the 12th, but I got kind of tired. The boys were picking on me for being a lightweight and leaving early. I left the bar at 11, got home at like 11:15. I went right to bed. I was really tired. The boys were all gonna come back to the house when they were done at the bar. I woke up to the bedroom door bursting open at like 1 am and someone yelling my name. I screamed. It was my brother's friend. Um.” I paused for a second, starting to feel uncomfortable. Did I have to describe it exactly? What did I have to say? But Walter spoke, easing the tension a bit.
“And what’s his name?” He asked me.
“His name is Justin, uh Justin Veach.” I responded. Walter nodded for me to continue as he wrote a note in his folder. He put the pen down and looked up at me again letting me know he was listening.
“Uh He said, ‘It’s okay! Don’t freak out, it's just me! We’re back, come hang out with us!’ Then he came over to my bed and kissed my face which was weird but he was an affectionate guy and well they were still drunk. I didn’t think much of it. He’d known me since I was a baby. He and my brother had been best friends since kindergarten. They were ten years older than me and he watched me grow up.” I shuttered a little thinking about it. “Um so after that he left. After telling me to come down stairs to talk with them again. And I did. We sat in the kitchen. I just sat there sleepy and confused. The boys were talking and eating drunk snacks or whatever,” I kind of chuckled a little. “It was nice. But we were talking about how it’s so funny that I’m old enough to go drink with them now. And Justin kept making these comments about remembering when I was born and that I was such a beautiful baby. It seemed so weird. But looking back. He knew. He knew what he was planning on doing…. We all said we were gonna go to bed. Blake, my brother, told Justin he could sleep on the couch or they could share his bed or whatever. But Justin was coming up the stairs with us and he said ‘I wanna cuddle’ to me, and he was still drunk and I thought he was joking so I laughed it off and said ‘yeah sure’ I let him lay in my bed. But I put myself on the inside. I thought he was just gonna lay there a minute and like it would be a joke. Blake did too. He asked if I was okay before he went to his room. Because he was still kinda drunk and ready to crash. I said. I was. But Justin didn’t just lay there. He took off his pants before he got into the bed so he was just in boxers and his shirt. And,”
I was shaking. I couldn’t do this anymore. I was gonna cry. I didn’t know this man. He was surely annoyed by me and. God he probably thought I was lying. That’s what Justin would tell him. When he confronts him. That I’m lying. Or maybe that's what I wanted. This was so stupid I shouldn’t have come here. I swallowed hard again. I looked back up at walter. I could feel the tears in my eyes.
“Take your time.” He said softly. “Is this when he hurt you?” He asked.
“I can’t,” my voice was trembling now. “I’m sorry I’ve wasted your time, I can’t do this.” I sobbed. I stood up to leave his office. Walter stood and walked to the other side of the desk gently reaching out and putting his hand on my shoulder. “There’s nothing you can do, I know that. I wasted your time detective. I’m so sorry.”
“Hold on,” Walter’s voice was low. “Sit back down, and breathe for a moment. If anything else I can’t let you walk out of here and drive home in this state.” I looked at his face. He was concerned. Worried about me. About my safety. I sat back down in the chair. I took a deep breath trying to compose myself again. But I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. “It’s okay, You’re safe in here. I’m going to do everything I can to help you Alayna.” Detective Marshall said, crouching down in front of me to meet my eyes again. I nodded. “Do you think you can keep going?” he asked. I nodded again. He stood and leaned on the edge of his desk. His proximity seemed to help keep my calm. I don’t know what was so different between him and talking with Rachel. But when he said he could help, I believed him. Maybe it was the sheer size of this man. Or the gun on his hip. Or maybe there was something in his aura or some other bullshit I didn’t understand that was protective and made me trust him. Fuck maybe I’d gone to far to turn back now and I was too emotionally exhausted not to lean on anyone who would listen. Whatever it was, I continued.
“At first I was just laying next to him. Like I was saying, I thought it was a joke. But he wrapped his arm around me to make me cuddle him.. I guess. He started rubbing my back. I froze up. I started to recognize that his hand was lingering where it shouldn’t but I couldn’t say anything. And this guy he’s .. he’s huge. I mean like 6 foot and like 400 lbs when he rolled over on to me and started touching me I felt paralyzed I couldn’t move but… I couldn’t have pushed him off if I’d tried. I just felt hopeless. That’s when everything happened.” I sniffled softly. I hiccuuped catching my breath. “It was like I was outside of myself watching it all happen…I .. I don’t know if that makes sense? But I couldn’t do anything. All I could do was lay there. I don’t remember if I said no. But,
“You didn’t consent. That’s no. This was not your fault. You’ve already tried to blame yourself. It’s a really common thing, unfortunately, that you can’t react. But that doesn’t mean that you let it happen. Or that you wanted it to happen.” Walter said softly. I nodded at the ground.
“Afterward he, he fell asleep and I showered, I had to get rid of the feeling of him. I slept on the couch, Well I tried to. The next morning he was came down and sat with all of us like nothing had happened. I had mentioned that my back had hurt the night before. And he moved closer to me and rubbed it for me. I couldn’t move. I didn’t react…again. I just. I don’t know. All I could think was, I didn’t wanna start anything. But I also couldn’t make sense of what happened. When he left I changed the sheets. I threw them away actually. My clothes were washed. But eventually I couldn’t look at them anymore. I threw them away too.”
“Why do you think it took you so long to say anything?” Walter asked me.
“I wasn’t even sure it happened. I wasn’t sure I could call it what it was. I mean he was drunk, I just… Just laid there. It took me over a week to tell my best friend. But It took almost 4 months after talking it out with her and one of my other friends for me to face it and call it what it was. But I still can’t say it.”
“And why are you here now? What made you report it?” He raised an eyebrow. I took a deep breath. This has been eating at me so long but. This month. This 2 year “anniversary.” If you could call it that. Has been terrorizing me.
“It’s all I could think about the last couple of weeks. I started having nightmares. Seeing him in my dreams. Before when I dreamt about it, I always got away. Someone always stopped him. But now. Now I’m trapped all overagain. It happened in my childhood home. In the room I grew up in. I’ve moved out since then. I live alone. He doesn’t even live in that town anymore. He lives 3 hours away from me. The chances that I’ll run into him are slim. And I don’t have any
reminders of it anymore. But Sometimes if I wake up and I’m laying next to the wall it sends me into a panic. If I see someone with a similar body type or with a similar voice it shut down. He’s over a 100 miles away. But I don’t feel safe. I’m losing my mind! I’m getting up to check the lock on the door like 10 times before I can go to sleep. What if he just walks in like he did then. He doesn’t even know where I live. But I’ve never confronted him. And he has a wife! And Kids. He did when he did this to me. I can’t get over that. She needs to know but … I don’t, I don’t know what to do! That’s why I’m here, I had another panic attack, I didn’t trust myself to drive. So I walked. ” I was in tears again. He must think I’m so weak. So stupid. What an idiotic thing to do.
“I understand, and first I want to say, I’m sorry that you went had to experience that. It’s a good you were able to tell your friends, but you were seemingly dealing with this alone for a long time. I’m sure that’s taken a toll on you. The next thing I need to ask you, is what you want to do now that you’ve told me.” I took in his words. He was right. This has been so heavy. And I’ve carried it alone for so long. But now that I’m here I never thought there would be options.
“What can we even do? It’s been so long?” I asked.
“Not too long though, if you want to press charges, and see him convited for this, that’s still on the table. If that’s what you want to do then yes, I do need you to write a witness statement. There will be a lot of other legal things that need to be done and signed. Then we can start an investigation. I know you think there isn’t anything here. But well do you trust me?” He asked. Did I? I didn’t know him. But Rachel seemed to. And he had his own office. That must mean he’s some high status detective right? And there was just something about him. Why did he feel so safe. It wasn’t the gun. It was. It was him. I did trust him.
“I do,” I spoke finally.
“I’ve put people away, on much less than what you’ve given me tonight.” He said. That felt good. To know he could lose everything. Like he made me lose my sense of security. But then my stomach dropped.
“W-would I have to see him?” I asked meekly.
“In court yes, possibly in a line up. But definitely in court. We would need your testimoney,”
“I- I don’t know if I can do that, I don’t know if I can face him.” I shook again.
“There will be officers in the court. You won’t be near him. He won’t be able to get to you.”
“Will you be there?” I asked suddenly.
“If you’d like, yes, I can be there.” He said giving me a soft smile.
“Can I think about it?” I asked meeting his eyes again.
“Of course,” He stood and walked back to the other side of his desk. “It’s been a long night emotionally for you, if you’re ready tomorrow to make a decision you can come back in the morning.” He said typing a something quickly on his computer. “If you’ll wait just a few minutes I can gladly give you a ride home. It’s far too cold for you to walk, even it’s a block away.” He offered. I nodded.
“Thank you, I appreciate that. It’s, well its actually 3 miles.” I stated biting my lip awkwardly. He let out a soft chuckle and smiled.
“Well, I surely can’t let you walk that far this late. I’ll get you home safe.” He said. He finished typing whatever it was he was doing on his computer. Then he locked the file in his desk. He stood and gestured for me to lead out of the office. He turned the light off and locked it behind him. Oh God I’d kept him after his shift.
“I’m sorry for keeping you,”
“Oh, no don’t appologize, this is common practice for me. This is honestly the earliest I’ve left in weeks.” He said as we walked back to the squadroom. He grabbed his coat from the desk chair. “Do you have everything?” He asked. I nodded.
He led us out of the station and to his truck in the parking lot. Once we were settled in, I gave him my address so he could drive me home. I watched out the window as he drove down the familiar streets. The drive was silent. The closer we got the more I got this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Back home. Back home to be alone again. I was so scared. What if he knew where I lived. I didn’t feel safe. It wasn’t long before the detective was pulling up in front of my building.
“Thank you,” I spoke breaking the silence for the first time since we’d left the police station.
“Of course,” He reached into his pocket pulling out a business card. “Take the night and decide what you’d like to do.” He said and then handed me the card. “That’s my cellphone number. If there’s anything else you need call…”
“Would you come in?” I cringed the second the words left my mouth.
“I, I can search the place, If you’d like. If it would make you more comfortable.” He offered.
“I mean, could you…” I can’t believe I was asking this, “Stay?” the word came out barely above a whisper. I sighed. I turned toward the window squeezing my eyes shut. “I’m sorry that was stupid, You probably have a wife, and a family to get home to. That was so inconsiderate. I just. I was afraid and I… I’ll just go.” I opened the door.
“You don’t feel safe, do you?” He asked. I paused and shook my head. I didn’t. I hadn’t for weeks. But I couldn’t ask this guy to give up his time for me.
“I don’t but, It’s okay. It’s just that there’s only one deadbolt lock on the door. And I don’t know sometimes that doesn’t feel like enough. And I can’t seem to get any sleep. But that’s not up to you. I have to figure this out. You’ve done so much to help me already detective.” I rambled. Walter let out a long breath.
“You’ve got a lot on your mind right now and a lot to consider.” He said. “I’m sure the lack of sleep isn’t helping at all, You could use a good nights rest.” He stated.
“But it’s not you’re responsibility and I don’t want to take you away from your family.” I said.
“I, well I live alone actually.” He bit his lip awkwardly “Why don’t you stay with me for the night? I’ve got some work to catch up on anyway. I probably won’t be getting much sleep. You wouldnt’t be putting me out.”
“Are you sure?” I asked raising an eyebrow. I’d given this poor guy enough trouble. And he was being so kind. Walter nodded. Honestly. The way I was feeling I didn’t have the energy to consider it any longer. I shut the door and walter put the truck in drive.
It was almost 2 am when we walked into his house.
“I can just sleep on the couch I, I really don’t want to be any trouble.”
“You aren’t,” He assured me. “And please, you can sleep in the bedroom, I rarely sleep there anyway. It’d be nice to know someones getting use out of it.” He smiled. I nodded and he showed me to the room and left me to get comfortable. He said he’d be down stairs likely working in his office if I needed anything. I took in the room everything seemed to be a dark navy color the comforter, the curtains the sheets. I chuckled to myself. That made sense for him.
I slipped off my shoes and slid under the covers. This should feel strange. And it did. But I was safe. And I hadn’t felt that way in a while. I let that feeling take over as I tried to fall asleep. But my mind started to wander again. What if he found out I reported it. What would happen. Or What would he do when they arrested him. What would he say about me. Would he say I wanted it. Tell them I didn’t push them away. Try to convince them that I was lying somehow? He was good at that. And he had a friend from college that was a lawyer. Surely he already had a story. Maybe he’d been prepared since it had happened. I started to shake again. I could feel my heart rate speeding up. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t hear the footsteps up the stairs. I didn’t see him come in. I didn’t even realize that I’d started to cry again until I noticed he was next to me saying my name.
“Alayna. Alayna. It’s okay. You’re okay. Take a deep breath.” He soothed.
“I can’t, I can’t… what if he tries to come after me. What if.. What if he tells them… what if tries to tell them I wanted him to…I don’t think I can do this.” I sobbed. Walter wrapped an arm around my shoulder.
“He can’t get to you. We’ll be sure of that. All that matters, is that you’ve told us the truth. As long as you have, and as long as you confirm that in court. No matter what he says or what anyone believes, it won’t matter. I want to help you. I want you to feel safe again. I think the only way we can do that. Is to put this guy away. I’m not gonna stop until we do. I won’t let him hurt you again.” He said. Pulling me closer to him.
“Do you have a sister?” I asked after a brief pause sniffling softly.
“No,” He shook his head and leaning back against the headboard letting me rest my head against his shoulder. “But I have a daughter.” He said.
“Is that why you do what you do?” I asked. He smiled. But he was quite for a moment.
“Not at first. When I was younger and I first started out, it was just something that I liked. Something I was good at. But when my exwife and I had our daughter, a lot of that changed. It became personal. To an unhealthy point honestly.” He chuckled at himself. “I guess to my own detriment.”
“Is that why you’re still working even though you clocked out hours ago? You could use some good sleep too detective.” I stated. Starting to relax.
“I haven’t slept well in ages,” He said. “Focusing on the job, oddly enough, keeps my mind off everything else. There are some horrible people in this world. I don’t have to explain that to you. I get so in my own head about how, it could be her. If I spend anymore time considering the what ifs I’d keep her locked in a tower,” He chuckled.
“I understand that. But surely, If she was raised by you, she’s a smart girl. But.. well I guess,” I sighed. “Nevermind.” Walter squeezed my shoulder softly.
“Thank you, I know what you mean.” He smiled sympathetically.
“I’m going to do it.” I said suddenly. “Press charges, I mean. You’re right. Knowing can still get to me. Knowing he’s out there. That’s what’s causing me all this stress and …I can’t keep going on like this.” I stated.
“I can take you back to the station tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” I whispered. “Walter?” I asked nervously biting my lip.
“Yeah?”
“Will you stay here? I don’t know what it is I just feel.. Safer when you’re here.” I blushed softly. Walter adjusted so that he was lying on the bed. I moved and laid my head on the pillow.
“Get some sleep darling. I’ll be right here.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Okay that was part one❤️ let me know how you’re feeling about this guys!
Tag list: @summersong69 @carrie80reads @caramariehurst @redheadrouge @warriormirkwood @gummydummy19 @deandoesthingstome @shellyshellshell @mary-ann84 @starfirewildheart @foxyjwls007 @alwayzmsbehavn @toooldforobsessions@mishkatelwarriorgoddess @henryownsme @identity2212
Part 2:
#henry cavill#captain syverson x ofc#fanfiction#captain syverson#august walker#henry cavil x reader#august walker fanfiction#fanfic writing#walter marshall fluff#walter marshall#walter marshall x reader#walter marshall fanfiction#walter marshal x ofc#night hunter#night hunter fanfiction#henry cavill imagine#henry cavill fanfiction#henry cavill characters#henry cavill fluff#angst#henry cavill angst#walter marshall angst#henry cavill hurt/comfort#henry cavill smut#captain syverson smut#coach sy#henry cavill fanfic#mike hellraiser#august walker smut#henry cavill x ofc
172 notes
·
View notes
Note
**Shoving my way through the tabloids and paparazzi**
Mr Tracy, the work you have done for the world's environmental charities is phenomenal, it's amazing that you're so passionate about not only our world's oceans but it's rainforests, it's grasslands and it's human life too.
At times it must be challenging trying to balance your work with humans and your passion for wildlife what with how humans have destroyed the worlds ecosystem.
Tell me, do you see a future with nature and the hustle and bustle of the human world working together in peace? How do you think we could achieve that?
– Nature&Nurture news blog reporter.🌿
Hi there! 👋
Apologies for the delay in replying to this - love your stuff, long time subscriber! Wanted to give you a decent reply so I hope this is okay.
That’s very kind of you to say but I can’t take all the credit. Tracy Industries is committed to all of the green pledges we have made, and our successes with various third party organisations and projects is only thanks to the enthusiastic effort of all of our board, trustees, senior management and of course, our CEO (who is incredibly supportive of all of our projects).
(I just send comms and put up posters and annoy people at the annual galas once they’ve had a drink or two)
Moving to being a zero-waste society has been a huge achievement, but we shouldn’t be stopping there. We’ve spent a lot of time ripping every resources from the planet and doing what we like without much concern for everything else that shares this space with us. We should be actively investing in restoration programmes that prioritise renewal over our own priorities, and vehemently protecting what is already there.
So do I see a future with nature and our very busy society coexisting - it has to! Nothing works if nature doesn’t. We came very close to the brink not so long ago, and we can’t allow that to happen again. We’re the custodians of our little planet, and it’s up to us, and us alone, to do better. Everything around us is relying that, as a population, we pick up that responsibility, including for our own kids and so on.
I had a really great afternoon recently organised with Robby Shelby (co-creator of the Supreme Barrier Reef with his mom, Dr Helen Shelby) with their junior conservation team. They’re all elementary school aged kids, learning to dive and also learning about the work that is ongoing there, why it matters and how to continue it. It’s amazing to see the next generation keen to take the reins - and I had an awesome time getting schooled on turtles and jellyfish.
How to achieve that - that’s the million dollar question, isn’t it. There’s a reason various world bodies have spent so long fighting over it and I guess it’s because it’s complicated, on paper and in practice.
I would say my own philosophy is that we ought to be leaving the world a better place than it was when we stepped into it. Everyone has an equal individual responsibility to do what they can. Food choices you make (hi fellow vegan gang 🌱), where you spend your money if you can, and educating other people. Treating the planet and everything that lives here kindly (including each other so, y’know, be excellent to each other!)
I guess I’m just very lucky that I can access resources that mean we can do a lot more.
For the bigger stuff, there are obviously the three main goals of the World Ecological Summit (not going to have time to go into the other 47 sub points):
1. Move to entirely emission free fuels and technology for all transport, which we’re making really good strides in, which is super exciting. As a bit of a side note, International Rescue has ⅖ of our ‘birds totally clean (see, nobody is perfect except Thunderbird Four). My aim over the next 12 months is to try and get to a point where we have a 95% sustainable fuel option ready to trial for each of them - currently sitting at 75% average, which is good but… we don’t do ‘good’ at iR, we do better. We use three different fuels because of the differing technologies each of our ships carries and the environments they work in so it’s a little more complicated. But that’s one of my pet projects (along with our incredible engineering department) so check in with me in the fall!
2. Our largest industrial leaders taking responsibility in being proactive, investing in green technologies and processes, and using their corporate responsibility for good. I think my previous answer about Tracy Industries kind of covers this one, but it’s important that those with the biggest weight to throw around do it in a way that benefits the most vulnerable in our society. Which leads nicely into point three…
3. Protecting the most vulnerable ecosystems, territories and people. It’s really easy to point the finger at humans for the environmental concerns we all share, but that’s completely unfair toward the most vulnerable populations amongst us, who are usually the ones who have had the most impact from what we’ve caused. We should be improving our environment, whilst also addressing the inequalities in food hunger, poverty, ill health, education that still exist. They aren’t necessarily two separate issues and we are an incredibly advanced society, - there’s no reason people should still be living with such huge levels of difference.
So I guess the summary of all of this is - people need to lift their head and care a bit more, and not be afraid to take on the responsibility of being better to environment and to each other.
Thanks again for the query - always happy to ramble to you guys! If you’d like to come along to the next visit to our rainforest project on the Bolivian border, we’re due to be out there early May and you’d be more than welcome! You can get me on g.tracy@tracyindustries.org 🫶🏻
#I love this stuff#gordo loves a reason to eco-ramble#these are my kind of asks#and yes Thunderbird Four is perfect#I’ll block anyone who says differently so good luck#thundersocials#thunderbirds rp#gordons squid thoughts#Gordon’s corporate squid thoughts technically
33 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ellis Twilight ~ Main Route Chapter 0

Disclaimer for route warnings | Masterlist
Additional Content Warnings: None
This a fan translation so it is definitely not 100% accurate. I do not own anything related to Ikemen Villains. Support Cybird by buying their amazing stories!
Ellis: “—That’s about all Jude asked me to report.”
Victor: “Thank you for your hard work on this mission… It seems like tonight was a bit difficult.”
Ellis: “Huh, Oh…”
Looking down at my clothes that were covered in blood, I realized the reason for Victor’s wry smile.
Completing tonight’s mission certainly took a little extra effort.
Ellis: “I aimed for the heart, but his body was thicker than I thought, so the knife didn’t penetrate deep enough.”
Ellis: “I felt a little sorry for him because I wasn’t able to kill him instantly.”
Victor: “…I see.”
Victor: “As always, you carried out your duties calmly, but… are there any times when you find it difficult?”
(Difficult…)
The members of Her Majesty’s royal organization, Crown, undertook everything from espionage to assassination.
But that doesn’t mean that everyone felt nothing when taking a life.
I noticed that a few days after moving in.
And I thought it was a fairly normal feeling.
(But…)
Ellis: “No, nothing in particular.”
Victor: “…That’s fine then. Please let Jude know that he did a good job.”
Ellis: “Mmhmm, Understood.”
Some pick flowers, tie them into bunches, and display them beautifully in the store.
Others polish dirty shoes with cream and a brush.
For me, taking a life as part of my job was the same thing.
As long as my desires weren’t involved, I had no hesitation.
(If there’s one thing that makes me hesitate to kill someone, it’s--)
(When I want to kill that person for my own desires.)
(Maybe it’s time to think about such selfishness and self-centeredness.)
To stop that from happening--I put a tight lid on my desires.
Never again… I will not let the happiness of someone I love be faked.
Young boy: “Waaah…!”
Ellis: “…!”
No matter how bloody the night, a bright morning will come.
While Jude and I were at the market on business for the trading company, we came across a crying child.
(He doesn’t seem to be injured… Maybe he’s lost?)
As I went to call out to him, the postal worker nearby suddenly crouched down.
Her gentle manner seemed to have calmed the child’s crying a little.
(…That’s good. Then I’ll—)
When I looked around…
(Ah, over there.)
I found the person I was looking for right away. I’m relatively tall, so I could see them easily even in a crowd.
Ellis: “Would you happen to be looking for a lost child?”
Woman about to cry: “Yes, do you know where…!?”
I pointed to where the child was and the woman ran off in a panic.
From a distance I could see the postal worker from before, the child, and the woman who appears to be his mother, all burst into smiles.
(…good.)
If possible, I wanted everyone I saw to be happy.
I didn’t want anyone to be unhappy.
If there’s anything I could do, I wanted to do it.
(Because—Happiness is fragile.)
(No matter how wonderful a person is, no matter how much they wish for an ordinary life.)
Happiness is like the twilight sky, changing color quickly.
(…Did you see?)
On a normal night of missions, all of Crown worked to take out a certain target, and then…
There was the sound of one woman’s taken-for-granted happiness being shattered.
William: “Oh, isn’t this the Robin I met this afternoon?”
Kate: “Ah… um… uh…?”
The woman was covered in blood, turning pale and shivering,
It looked to be the same postal worker I’d seen working on the street.
(…So pitiful.)
My heart ached as I remembered how she was smiling so happily after the lost child was reunited with his mother.
The work of “Crown” is meant to be kept secret.
A darkness that should not be known to those who live in the bright sunlight.
If they found out—They wouldn’t be able to return to their normal daily life.
(So at least…)
Ellis: “Shall I kill her?”
Ellis: “She doesn’t seem happy at all, but I’ll do it.”
(At least I’ll kill you so you don’t suffer.)
Silence fell.
The postal worker, whose name was Kate, was trembling pitifully.
Victor: “Hmmm, that’s right…”
(If the punishment has been decided, it’s better to do it sooner.)
(That way, you’ll spend less time dwelling in anxiety and fear.)
While waiting for Victor’s reply, I was about to reach for my knife, but at that moment…
Kate: “I promise I will never tell anyone about what I’ve just witnessed.”
(…)
Miss Kate declared that in such a firm voice that it was hard to believe that she had been pale and trembling just a moment ago.
Victor: “Hmmm…Huh? What’s that?”
Kate: “I will keep your secret at all costs. Postal workers are trained to maintain confidentiality no matter what.”
Victor | William: “…”
(Victor and Will are both surprised.)
I was taken aback, but before I knew it, my eyes were glued to her.
Even in this situation, it seemed that Kate hadn’t given up on life.
Kate: “If you say you don’t trust me, you can keep an eye on me until you feel you can.”
Kate: “I’ll definitely prove it.”
(…You still believe…)
In being able to return to your normal, everyday life.
To be able to laugh with happiness again.
Even in the darkness, where the sunlight seemed to be completely swallowed by darkness, you believed.
(--…It’s wonderful)
Her profile was dazzling, like the sun that would never set on the horizon—
(I want you to laugh again.)
(Like that time when I saw you on the street corner.)
The feeling arose as if it were natural,
What if I didn’t have to ‘end things’ as a job?
If there were still a ‘continuation’ to her happiness.
(I want to make you happy.)
As I stared at Kate’s profile, as she tried to keep her head up—
--For some reason, the twilight sky of ‘that’ day, the happiest day in the world, vividly appeared in the back of my mind.
Chapter 1
#ikemen villains#ikevil#ikemen villains translation#ikevil translation#ellis twilight#ikevil ellis#ikevil ellis twilight#ikemen villains ellis#ikemen villains ellis twilight#ellis twilight main route
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
My neighbour Rúben | Chapter 21
Author's note: And we've made it to the end 😔 Hope you guys have enjoyed this story even if it isn't the very best out there and the plot isn't groundbreaking 😅 But sometimes you just need to read something cute and simple, and that was my aim with this. As always, thank you very much for reading and all your support. It means a lot 💜
Previous chapter
Masterlist

It had been a month since my fall at the Etihad. Since I had made it to the news because someone had reported that the woman rolling down the stairs was Rúben Dias girlfriend and that that was the reason why he had run to her aid half way through the team’s warm-up. Turns out that I wasn’t dreaming when I thought I had heard his voice.
And, of course, after being on tv now everyone knew about us, my parents included. After a few calls from my mum asking me how I was, she had finally convinced my dad to come visit me in Manchester, see with her own eyes that I was actually ok and that I wasn't lying every time she had called me, and also meet Rúben.
“Can you please stop? You are making me nervous” he said.
“I can’t. This is huge, Rúben. Like… huge” I said, dramatically lifting my arms in the air. “It’s not just that my parents are coming back to Manchester after ages and the possibility of us fixing things, but also ruining them forever. They are coming to meet you too. My boyfriend. The first I’m introducing them to.”
“Hopefully the last one too” he replied with his usual smirk.
“God, I hate you” I said, back to pacing around the living room.
We were meeting at Lucy’s apartment since she and Julia were out with Rodri getting to know each other a bit more. Though Julia was already as in love with him as she was with Rúben.
“I love you too” he chuckled, those three words being something I still hadn’t been able to say despite being what I felt.
“Urgh, that’s them” I said when I heard the door’s bell.
“Relax, it’s gonna be ok” Rúben said, putting his hands on my shoulders. “I’ll charm them the same way I’ve done with your whole family.”
“Yeah, sure” I said, with a nervous laugh.
“I will. This is gonna work, ok?”
“Ok” I said, taking a deep breath.
“I love you” Rúben said.
“I love you too” I replied, not realising what I had said until I saw the smile on his face. I loved his smirk, but this one… This one had just become my new favourite smile.
“C´mon, let’s go meet my in-laws. We don’t want to keep them waiting” he said, taking my hand and walking towards the door.
━━━━━━❃━━━━━━
And all that, takes us to the present day.
"Do you know what day it is today?" Rúben asks me as we walk towards our apartment. Because his apartment, is ours now.
Lucy and Julia have moved to Rodri's house, where she is loving having a huge garden to play football with him. Though what she is loving the most, is the idea of becoming a big sister in just a few months.
"It wasn't planned, it just happened" Lucy shrugged after sharing the news. "But I know he is the one, and not because every single person that knows me has said it. It is because I can feel it. It is different to what I've felt with all the other guys I've been with before, my ex included. He is the one."
After they left, Rúben asked me to move in with him, and I obviously said yes. Now I still take care of Julia from time to time when both Lucy and Rodri are busy, but I am not her nanny anymore.
"I'm 6 now! I don't need a nanny, that's for babies" she said one day.
What I keep doing tho, is being her piano teacher. Hers, and a bunch of kids from her school. We’ve kept the piano at Lucy’s apartment, only going there for my lessons so we don’t bother Rúben. But besides teaching, I’m also playing at events and weddings all over the country. It doesn’t matter if they are posh or tacky, if they have a low budget or lots of money. If I like the people I’m playing for, I say yes.
My dad didn't like the idea at first and said that, of course, I should focus on teaching. But when he saw how much I was earning by playing on those events, he changed his mind. And I want to think that the fact that he was seeing me enjoying playing the piano for the first time in my life, also had something to do with it.
And things have also kept getting better and better between us. He has joined grandad and I at some Arsenal games, and Rúben got to charm him just as he said he would. Though I must confess I still am getting used to how well they get along. Seeing them laughing together feels so weird…
"Do you remember or not?" Rúben asks me again when we make it to the front door, the new doorman opening it for us. Roger retired and he is now living in the countryside with his wife.
"Wednesday?"
"That's now what I asked. The number."
"Eh… 10th?"
"Urgh" he says, rolling his eyes. "Today, three years ago, we met for the first time. And it happened here, in front of this lift."
It had been three years already. Three years since I met Julia at the shopping centre. Since Lucy asked me to work for her. Since Rúben and I crossed paths on this same spot and I just froze in place. He was the most handsome man I had ever seen, and he still is.
"I remember the way you looked at me" he chuckles. "You couldn't stop staring."
"I probably looked like an idiot. Or a creep."
"You looked very cute" he says, calling for the lift. "I couldn't stop thinking about you, about who you could be."
"Really?" I ask. He had never told me about it, about what he had felt when we first met. In my case, I didn't have to tell him. As usual, my face had said it all.
"Really. I don't know what it was, but there was something special about you. It felt... Different."
"Lucy would call that the one feeling" I chuckle.
"The what?"
"The feeling you get when you meet the right person. The one" I say, walking into the lift.
"Interesting… But you know," Rúben says, walking behind me and pressing our floor's number. "This lift isn't just important because we met here for the first time. It also is important because it brought us together again."
"Oh, please. Don't remind me of that day."
"It wasn’t that bad" Rúben says with that smirk of his.
"The beginning was really bad. The end, not so much" I say, mimicking his smile.
"That's what I thought. And here is the thing" he says, stopping the lift.
"Rúben, what are you doing?"
"Listen to me" he says, taking my hands on his. "You just said it yourself, that what I felt when I first met you was because you were the one. And it's the truth. You are my one. The one I want to spend the rest of my life with. I had a list of things I wanted to tell you, but I’m too nervous and I've forgotten most of them, so I'll keep it simple" he says, letting go of my hands and getting on one knee. "Will you marry me?"
"Rúben, I..." I mumble, watching him get a small box from his pocket and opening it, the most gorgeous ring I had ever seen inside it. "Are you sure?"
"I've never been more sure or serious about anything in my life. So I'll ask again, here, on this lift that brought us together. Twice. Will you marry me?"
"Yes" I say, my voice shaking. "Yes, Rúben, I will marry you."
I barely give him any time to get up, throwing myself at him and kissing him. A kiss, that three years later, keeps feeling and being movie worth it.
"I love you" he whispers, his lips still on mine.
"I love you too" I reply.
"But before we keep making out, can I put this on your finger?" he says, showing me box.
"Yes, of course."
"I hope it fits" he chuckles. "Lucy said it was the right size."
"She knows?"
"She knows" he smiles. "And she was right. Perfect."
"Wow" I say, inspecting it closer. "It's beautiful, Rúben."
"Do you like it?"
"I love it. Though not as much as I love you" I say, kissing him again.
"We should probably go home, don't you think?" he says. "Continue with the celebrations there."
"I like how that sounds. Very very much."
But the moment the lift's doors open on our floor...
"Congratulations!" our friends and families scream.
"What the..." I mutter, my heart on my throat. "What is this?"
"A surprise party to celebrate our engagement" Rúben says, hugging me from behind.
"So… they all knew?"
"Yep" he replies, kissing my neck.
"What if I had said no?"
"Oh, c'mon, that was impossible" Lucy says, coming to give a hug. "He is your one, remember?"
"He is, yes" I say, looking at him while Rodri and Ivan congratulate Rúben, a big smile on my face. "He is the one."
━━━━❃━━━━ FIN ━━━━❃━━━━
74 notes
·
View notes
Text
Bringer of Demise - Chapter 2
[FIRST PART] [AO3]
I'll be honest, I wasn't that confident with the first chapter (probably because it's been a while since I sat down to write something) but I like this one much more. The angst is definitely helping lol
Here's chapter 2: Like a House Fire
“Simon-” Soap jumps as the door slams behind him. Ghost grunts, walking further into his room to sit at the desk, reports now laying forgotten. Not that they need them anymore, with Novikov’s arrival.
Soap takes a sit in front of him, the bed creaking when he leans forward to look in Ghost’s dark eyes. “Talk to me, mo chridhe.”
Ghost slides the mask off his face, and throws it on the desk with so much force some papers fly and land behind it. Soap waits as he stares at the wall for a minute or two, lost in whatever dreadful memory the Doctor brought forward.
“Novikov was the one that tested me. When they brought me back from Mexico.” he starts, voice carefully monotone. “Went through regular shit at first. How long I can use Limbo before I have to stop. What happens if someone shoots at it from the outside. See if sound travels, if comms work.”
Soap holds his tongue, ignores the questions that float to his mind about the process. It’s more important for him to listen to Simon.
“Didn’t really have a problem with those. Expected them, really.” Simon shakes his head, bitterness bleeding into his voice, “it started going wrong when Shepherd came into the picture.”
At the mention of that name, Soap’s jaw clenches. General fucking Shepherd, the man behind Graves’ leash. Ran like a coward after his dog died, still off grid even after Laswell got the go-ahead from CIA to start a search for him. Soap remembers the few meetings he was in, how Shepherd would address Ghost. Spoke to him as if Limbo wasn’t tearing itself apart because of his orders.
Ghost never told him much about the bawbag, Soap never asking. Felt wrong, with how little he willingly gives Ghost about his own past.
“What did he do?” he asks, a little hesitant to hear the answer.
“Novikov wasn’t pushing me hard enough, according to him. Because he was afraid of what my powers would do to me or to others, or for a different reason, I didn’t bother finding out. Don’t know if the Doc tried to resist. It doesn’t matter.” Simon lets out a mirthless laugh, “you know the rest.”
Soap nods. “Ye think… he will do it again? Push ye to…”
“I’m not worried about me, Johnny.” He leans closer to Soap, and it dawns on him that Simon’s not as angry as he is terrified, “there’s nothing new Novikov can tell me to use Limbo on that would break it like last time. But you… they never found your limits, have they?”
“... You know they didn’t need to.”
“I don’t think that ever satisfied Novikov, or the higher-ups.” Soap frowns, Simon’s voice lowering to an almost whisper, “I think they were just as tied up in red tape as you.”
He doesn’t respond to that. He doesn’t think he needs to, they both know Simon is right.
Soap’s memories of that time period are… muddy at best. And it wasn’t because of the shot he received to the head, the day he died.
In the weeks following it, Soap felt like everyone that knew what happened there was walking on eggshells around him. Not many knew, they tried to sweep it under the rug immediately to avoid an international incident, but those that did…
When Soap refused to use his powers on field, his Captain was irritated. Said he’d go to the higher-ups, get him written for insubordination.
The very next day, the Captain took him to the side and asked him to tell him. Fuck the higher-ups when it comes to his own personal curiosity, eh?
Soap refused, obviously. The Captain let it go, eventually, but Soap always wondered if he was trying to send him into impossible situations to see just how much destruction he can survive.
“I’m not going to let him do anything to you, love.” Simon’s voice makes him refocus on the present, “Novikov tells you to jump, you ask me how high.”
Soap scoffs fondly, the anger that has bubbled up in his chest subsiding, “they’re gonna write ye up, LT.”
“Don’t care. They won’t boot me out anyway.” he answers smugly, scarred lips quirking up in a way that makes Soap want to explode the rest of the world, if only to keep him safe.
He returns the smile, “sound awfully certain of yerself. Should I ask Price if the power went to yer head?”
Simon huffs, “just the facts, Johnny. Not only I’m legally dead, they wouldn’t want someone like me strolling around civvies in case I go off and send a couple hundred to Limbo.”
“Sometimes I forget just how much off yer heid you are, Simon Riley.”
“Takes one to know one, and all that.” Simon moves to get up, when something pulls at his leg.
A few dark hands started petting at their boots, so gently they didn’t notice. Soap smiles, leaning down to return the favor with his left hand.
“Look, we made yer friends worried.” the hands wrap around his fingers, chasing the little white flames.
Simon shakes his boot, loosening the residents of the void’s hands, “you know that’s not how that works.”
“Well, they react to our emotions, you never know!” he turns back to the hands, “don’t listen to him, he’s just grouchy ‘cause I’m not holdin’ his hand.”
He’s happy to continue playing with Simon’s “friends” until a shrill sound cuts through the air. Soap watches Simon grab his phone from his pocket.
“It’s Rudy.” he taps his phone and sits down next to Soap, “Rodolfo?”
“Fantasma. Is Soap with you?” Rudy greets, voice hurried.
Soap takes Simon’s wrist and brings the phone closer, “aye, what’s wrong?”
“All of our revenants were woken up by our Reapers, I… I assume it happened to yours as well.”
Christ, must be later than midnight in Mexico right now. Getting dragged into your Reaper’s realm in the middle of sleeping… can’t be fun.
“Affirm.” Ghost says, “I assume yours asked about Fate and Lumity?”
“Yes.” there’s someone talking in the background, and Soap realizes it’s Alejandro, giving out orders, “some of our revenants chose Fate. We’re in the process of reprimanding them, but… It’s more important that I tell you what we gathered.”
Simon and Soap share a look. Anything would be helpful at this point.
Rudy continues, “the ones that chose Fate didn’t give us much. Apparently their Reaper just left, only saying they chose right. It is mine that explained the most.”
“You did say your Reaper was chatty…” Simon mutters.
“It is.” Rudy sighs, “my Reaper didn’t get mad when I chose you. It said it was expecting it.”
Rudy’s Reaper… Reaper of Matter… is on Lumity’s side?
“The Reapers are… in a state of disorder.” he pauses, mulling over the words. “... My Reaper said this hasn’t happened since before the age of revenants.”
“Did it say what’s Fate’s goal in all this?” Simon asks.
“No. I don’t think it knows.” Rudy begins talking in Spanish to someone on the other side, far too fast for Soap to understand. “-Jabón y Fantasma?”
They can hear some rustling before Alejandro’s voice comes through, “Hermanos! You landed us in a real shitshow this time around, eh?”
Soap smiles sheepishly, “good teh hear ye, Ale. Sorry about the mess.”
“All good. Well- for now.” Alejandro hums, “I have a feeling that is due to change at any point.”
“Ye said it…”
Rudy turns the phone back to him, as he says, “whatever it is, you can call us. We’ll continue to update you.”
“Appreciated, hermano,” Ghost answers, “same goes for us.”
“Don’t be strangers. We’ll talk later.” Ghost and Soap say their goodbyes as Rudy hangs up.
So the Reapers themselves don’t quite know what Fate is planning… he didn’t think it was possible, but Soap is even more unsettled. Reapers are volatile as it is, though before they could’ve trusted them to not meddle in their “boring human affairs”.
A Reaper even Reapers can’t foresee… how can they prepare against something like that?
Soap eventually returned to his own barrack, long after daylight faded. Sleep evaded him for most of the night, burning moths fluttering around his cot as he tosses and turns, flames occasionally charring his blanket.
When morning finally comes, he finds himself in the revenant training grounds along with Ghost. Anxiousness drips down his spine as they wait for the Doctor and his assistants.
Ghost knocks their boots together, and Soap calms. He’s not going through this alone, unlike any other revenant.
He begins to hope Novikov has simply forgotten about them when the man is late. Unfortunately, he doesn’t. Almost 20 minutes after the tests were supposed to start, the man comes hurrying down the training grounds, the papers in his hands miraculously not flying away in the gentle breeze.
“Sergeant! Lieutenant! I apologize for the delay.” Novikov calls when he gets close enough, somewhat out of breath, “yesterday’s incident had us sifting through reports all night, as you can imagine.”
The Doctor pauses to take another deep breath, and flips through the folder he brought, “as I’m sure you understand, this will not be a standard revenant test. I will not be redoing your basic tests, Lieutenant. As for you, Sergeant…”
Novikov turns his bespectacled grey eyes to him, and gives him a small smile, “I understand that I will not be able to test your limits here, but the records of the Verdansk incident are enough.”
Soap’s back straightens, and he can’t help but growl, “ye know about it?!”
He can count on two hands the amount of living people that know the whole truth behind his Reaping, and about half of them are in the 141.
“Laswell has allowed me access to the files. I’ve known about the incident beforehand, of course, theorized Konchar had-”
“Don’t ye dare say that fuckin’ name.” he snarls, flames flickering within his clenched fists. It doesn’t stop the stream of blurry memories, of melting skin beneath his fingertips-
Soap forcibly exhales, coercing his flames to die down.
Novikov doesn’t seem offended by the interruption. On the contrary, he looks… intrigued.
“I’d like to test the difference between your hands, to start. I have only been made aware of the changes in flame color, and the markings, of course.”
Soap glances at Ghost, who gives him a nod.
“What do ye need me to do, Doctor?”
“This is most intriguing… the flesh of your left hand is cooler than your right, but the flames are considerably warmer…”
Soap feels the ground between his fingers crumble to ash. So far, The tests are quite… boring, if he’s honest.
He’s had his own morbid fascination with his own powers, for a while. Wondering how it compares to other explosive compounds, trying to run the numbers to find the closest approximate. He thought, if he could find an equation, he could control his powers better.
Soap gave up on it soon after. Didn’t have enough data to work with, and generating more meant using his powers, and well…
Novikov lifts his pen, “very good, Sergeant.” steamin’ Jesus, he’s not 5, is he gonna give him a sticker next? “Now, Lieutenant, remove any clothing on your right arm, if you will.”
Ghost, who up until now stood motionless in his best imitation of a statue, stares at Novikov for a long moment, before slowly removing his glove and tucking it into his belt. He steps closer to Soap, rolling his sleeve to reveal pale, scarred skin.
“Now, with your left arm of course, I want you to attempt to explode the Lieutenant’s arm.”
Soap notices the assistant with the heat-sensitive camera aim it at Ghost, “it’s not gonna do anything to him, Doc.”
“Then there shouldn’t be any problem demonstrating it.” Novikov doesn’t look up from his papers. Bawbag.
Ghost offers him his arm silently. Soap knows it won’t do anything to him, they bear marks to prove it.
Soap takes the arm. White flames wrap harmlessly around it. He focuses his powers to his left hand, the air around them distorting.
It feels fundamentally wrong to try and hurt Simon. His breathing picks up, fingers twitching as the flames climb higher and higher.
“-it’s as if they’re trying to reach equilibrium. The flesh cools the flames, the flames heat it in return-”
Ghost doesn’t react, not that Soap can see with his vision tunneling on their joined limbs. The fire burns, searing, scorching, mutilating-
“-You may stop now, Sergeant-”
He can’t hurt him, how could he ever dare hurt him? Why isn’t anyone stopping this?
Like a bystander watching a house fire, Soap is helpless in front of the flames. He can almost smell the bubbling flesh from here, the melting of everything in the face of unending ruin-
“-ohnny. Enough.”
Soap jumps, the world rushing back to his senses. He turns his head shakily, to see Novikov’s gaze boring into him.
“Ah’m not- I can’t-” he mumbles, words barely forming on his lips, “Ghost-”
“You’re alright, Johnny.” Ghost’s smooth voice is steady as ever, but his eyes betray him, “it’s over.”
Novikov affirms, “We got all we needed, Sergeant.”
Ghost lifts his hand towards him, and Soap barely suppresses a flinch as it trails down his bicep. “You’re alright.” he repeats.
Soap nods, feeling like a bampot all at once. Of course Ghost is fine. They already knew this, he told Novikov as much not 10 minutes ago.
Stupid, stupid, fucking stupid. Soap grits his teeth, “what’s next, Doctor?”
Novikov takes a while to answer, and Soap avoids Ghost’s perceptive gaze as they wait, “I have received approval for Limbo, Lieutenant. I’d like to see the changes it went through first-hand.”
“... Understood. We will need to put some distance between us.” Ghost grunts.
The Doctor waves his hand, “naturally. You’re familiar with your limits, I’ll leave it to your judgement.”
Soap feels Ghost urge him to move, and they begin walking.
“Johnny-”
“Aye.” Soap huffs, “sorry, LT.”
“What for?” Ghost hums, “you did nothing wrong.”
He doesn’t answer to that. If Ghost didn’t see his fuck-up, he’d rather not bring it up.
“If you need to stop at any point-”
Maybe he’s easier to read than he thought, “Ah’m solid, Simon.”
“You froze there. Don’t think you can hide it.” or maybe Ghost knows him too well by now.
They come to a stop, facing one another. Soap bites the inside of his cheek, “I’m- I’ll be fine as long as Ah don’t have to repeat that.”
“You won’t.” Ghost assures him, “ready for Limbo?”
If there’s a place to find peace of mind, it’s the void, “aye. Been a while since we paid our friends a visit, hm?”
Ghost chuckles, “only you’d call them that.” He raises his voice, shouting to Novikov, “Limbo out in five!”
The Doctor gives them a thumbs-up, so Ghost closes his eyes.
Entering Limbo never got less jarring. Soap gets used to it faster if he expects it, but the shift from the colorful, lively world to the still void is an odd one.
Still, once he gets accustomed to it, he can’t help but smile. As weird as it is to say, he missed this place.
Limbo’s victims are docile, chasing after bright moths with no sense of urgency. Like shooting stars, they paint the dark skies of Limbo with radiant yellows and oranges.
This might be the only good thing Soap’s powers have ever done.
He catches Ghost staring at him, his eyes a glowing white, “what?” he asks with a small grin.
“Better?”
“Aye.”
“Sergeant!” Novikov shouts, though it sounds muffled as it enters Limbo from the other side, “try to explode something!”
Soap frowns, “is he talkin’ about yer friends?”
Ghost mutters, clearly unhappy with the disturbance, “don’t know.”
“What do you want ‘im to test it on?!” Ghost shouts back.
“Any material will do! I assume you’re standing on something, correct?”
Soap looks down, at the solid black ground. “What is this made of, anyway?”
The way Ghost hums back tells him ‘fuck if I know’. He crouches down, placing both hands on it. The texture is almost like a glass pane, except his fingers can’t get a grip on it no matter how much he tries.
Before he can hesitate, Soap flexes his fingers.
Nothing happens.
“Huh.” he tilts his head, “suppose it makes sense.”
“How so?” Ghost kneels beside him, sliding a finger over the undamaged surface.
“My powers have to come into contact with a material to explode.” Soap shrugs, getting back on his feet, “void’s made of nothing, no?”
“Hm.” Ghost casts another look around Limbo, and blinks.
Soap catches himself before his knees buckle from the rush of color and noise back into the world. Ghost hooks an arm under his shoulder as a precaution, but he assures him he’s stable.
“Absolutely outstanding! This is the first time you couldn’t explode something, is that correct, Sergeant?” Novikov half-jogs to them.
“Uh… Aye?”
The Doctor’s eyes gleam with wonder, “Incredible! If only there were more Revenants of Destruction in this base, I would be able to test if this is a result of a relation between your Reapers, or a consequence of your powers mixing… Alas, this is not the purpose of my visit.”
Novikov’s assistants are absorbed with the testing equipment they brought, some looking like set pieces of a low budget sci-fi movie to Soap. He’d love to nick one to take apart, but the shite’s probably so delicate even his fingertips would burn and destroy them.
“Now, for the next test, I’d like you to-” a shrill noise cuts Novikov off, and Ghost pulls out his phone.
Soap pouts when Ghost answers. Why does no one ever call him?
“Affirm. We’ll be there in fifteen.” Ghost ends the call, “we need to go to a meeting with Laswell.”
Novikov’s eyes dim, “ah, I see… I suppose we can continue this afterwards.”
“You’re invited too, Doctor.” Ghost grunts, making both Soap and Novikov swing around in surprise.
When Laswell finally shows up on screen, she seems different from what Soap remembered.
Dark eye bags, pale, hair more grey in some places. He almost didn’t recognize her, and looking around the room tells him the rest of the team thinks the same.
The rest, except Price, “how are you, Kate?”
Laswell sighs, more hair falling off her tight bun. “Let’s get to work, John.”
As she brings up several images on screen, Price reports in their mind, “someone attacked Laswell and her wife in their home two months ago. She got off with minor injuries, but her wife… her concussion was severe enough that she barely talks most days.”
“Did they catch the fucker that did it?” Soap thinks back. If they didn’t, he’d gladly volunteer to put the bastard six feet under. He owes Laswell that much.
Price stops him from continuing to plan a revenge, “Kate killed him, son. She’s trained for field work, an everyday burglar doesn’t stand a chance against her. Now focus up.”
Soap huffs, “yes sir.”
“-we found signs of Shepherd’s work around Urzikstan. Supposedly, he’s working with one of the resistance groups there.” blurry satellite images pop up on screen, convoys and remote buildings hidden between green hills.
Gaz frowns, “either he suddenly grew a moral compass, or there’s a catch.”
Laswell nods, “it’s possible it’s a false lead, but with recent clashes between Urzik forces and the Russians, I’d like you to personally investigate it.”
“We’ll get it done, Laswell.” Price says, his authoritative voice on full blast.
“No one I trust more than you.” Laswell smiles, in a way Soap has never seen. “Now, obviously as you all are grounded, I wouldn’t just send you on what could potentially lead to nothing…”
She begins talking to Novikov, “we’re working on tracking the missing revenants Graves and Shepherd trafficked.”
The Doctor nods, adjusting the frankly huge glasses on his nose bridge, “many of them belong to rarer kinds of Reapers. If they were to fall into the wrong hands…”
“We can’t allow that to happen.” Ghost finishes sternly.
“Commander Karim has been working to find them, but there’s so much she can do while also fending off Russians.” the screen switches to a compilation of names and passport photos, each listing both a date of birth and Reaping. “This is your official reason to be sent to Urzikstan, boys. Whatever intel Graves has left behind him regarding the revenants’ location, we need it.”
“When are we up?” Price asks.
“1600.”
Gaz whistles, “brass’ knickers are all twisted up, huh.”
“Miss Laswell, if I may.” Novikov pipes up, “I have yet to finish the renewed revenant test of Sergeant MacTavish and Lieutenant Ghost. I will not be able to give you an accurate recommendation before that.”
The fuck’s he talking about?
“I understand, Doctor, but it’s out of my control.” Laswell exhales, “this is why I invited you to this meeting. Based on what you do know, what is your verdict?”
The entire room swivels to stare at the Doctor. Novikov scrambles to flip through the papers in his hands, before speaking with an air of defeat.
“Considering my current understanding of Lumity, and the state of Sergeant MacTavish and Lieutenant Ghost… I recommend that until further testing, they should be separated as much as possible on field, if their powers are to be used.”
… What?
#call of duty modern warfare 2#cod mw2#cod ghost#cod soap#cod gaz#cod price#john soap mactavish#simon ghost riley#kyle gaz garrick#john price#kate laswell#stanislav novikov#revenant au#call of duty fic#call of duty fanfic#call of duty modern warfare#cod fic#cod fanfic#ghostsoap#soapghost#ghoap#soap love you got so much repressed trauma its unreal <3#you dont know how fun it is to finally write his perspective on what happened in part 1 and before#part 1 didnt really dive into what happened to soap bc it was a mystery most of the fic... but now... >:)#first chapter felt a little slow for me but this pace feels better#part 1's pace was really fast and i have slowed down since but i still like to be quick#which is weird when i think about it bc i can ramble for hours on the lore of this#anyway the last part wouldve been expected if you read novikov's side story but ohh boy how will the boys react to that...#also found out about novikov's self-consistency principle today and its completely unrelated to the fic but its an interesting take on time#-paradoxes and the fact i had to separate this sentence into two tags tells me i need to shut up lol
22 notes
·
View notes
Text
What about me...
Timothée Chalamet x reader
Part 2
Part 1 Part 3
Summary : You and Timothée have been dating in private. You both want to keep the privacy. But what happens when his PR team has a new idea?
Words : 4.4K
Disclaimer : Hi, here is part 2. Hope you enjoy it. Sorry for the wait. I have to study all day. But don't forget that there is no hate for Kylie or their couple. If they're happy, then it's all that matters.
Warnings : fluff, angst
“Hi Timmy!” You say with a lot of joy. You were so excited to finally be able to hear his voice after what felt like so long.
“Hi mon ange” he says with much less excitement. He was very relieved to hear your voice but he knows what is about to come.
“Are you okay? Is everything alright?” You ask with concern. Of course, you picked immediately that something was off. But maybe he was just tired.
“Don’t worry, I had a long day” he answers, and even if you are not sure whether he is believing him or not, you start to talk to him a bit about what you were doing. But he wasn’t listening. How could he do that? You were there on the phone, sweet voice full of happiness, and all he could think about was the contract he had just signed a few hours ago.
“Timmy? Timothée? Timothée!” You yell a little to gain his attention. Okay, now you were sure something was very wrong.
“I’m sorry mon cœur, I just.... I-I... I’m just so sorry” he sighs. You could hear the desperation in his voice, and by the way he was talking, you could swear he was on the verge of crying. His voice feels so fragile, so broken.
“Sorry? What are you sorry for? Timmy what’s happening? Are you okay?” Your voice full of worry. Is he hurt? Did something really bad happen to him or to his family or even to one of his friends? You don’t know what to do right now because all you could do is wait for him to tell you what is going on. “Timmy I need you to tell me something, please. Are you okay?”
“I’m okay physically, I swear” he mumbles. He knows he has to tell you. The longer he waits, the harder it gets, but he doesn’t want to be the reason behind your sad face. You were full of worry, and he was about to make things even worse. “I-I-I did something today, something really bad. And I don’t know how to tell you”
“It’s okay I’m sure whatever it is, we can work something out together, okay?” You didn’t really know what to think. You want to be there for him, but what if it is something that will break your heart? Now, you are just afraid of what he is about to say.
“I had a meeting earlier with the PR team” he begins, and you hold your breath, preparing yourself of what’s about to come. “They had this idea to help me gain attention from the public. And I wasn’t really happy about it”
“Wha-What is it?” you ask. It takes some time, but he finally sighs and tells you.
“They want me to date someone” your heart stops. “They asked me to date Kylie Jenner” He finally tells you what was on his chest. But he doesn’t have time to feel relieved or relaxed because stress starts to eat him whole.
“I-I-I” you are at a loss of words. You don’t know what to say or how to react. It’s like the information didn’t kick in your brain. “I just don’t know what to say.... I don’t understand why?”
“They think that if I date her then I’ll be in the spotlight and that my movies will gain a lot of interest since apparently poeple are mad for the report of Dune and that Wonka doesn’t come out until December.” He explains to you trying to help you understand their mind even if he’s not okay with it.
“And what did you say?” You don’t really understand how that is the best solution, but you wanted to know what he thought of it.
“I told them no, of course, I was really angry at them, and I still am.” You feel relieved that at least he doesn’t want this. But you know there’s more. “But...” There it is “I still signed the contract”
“Why....?” you ask with your voice barely a whisper. He exhales loudly.
“I promise you I said no at first, I told them that I couldn’t do it because I didn’t want to and that it was clearly not necessary. All I could think about was that I already had you as my girl, and I didn't need or want to replace you. I couldn't do that to you, to us” he defends himself, and you could hear that he started to cry. “But I couldn’t tell them that, and I thought that you wouldn’t want me to expose us just for that. I just didn’t know what to do. I felt trapped and overwhelmed with the situation. I felt like I couldn’t get out of it, so I just signed and left.”
You just don’t know what to feel. Well, yes, you feel nothing. Your brain is just offline, like it doesn’t want to process everything. What are you supposed to say? Seriously? Of course you aren’t okay that’s for sure, but are you supposed to cry or to understand what he did? That he didn’t have a choice? Or did he really have any? You wanted to say that he should have told them about you, but was revealing your relationship really the best idea? Do you really want the public to know? Definitely not.
“Mon cœur? Please say something... I need you to tell me what you think”
“What would you have to do?” You ignore his, please. And of course, he knows you were doing it on purpose, so he sighs.
“They told me that it’s going to be just a lot of fake pictures, really. With us walking outside, holding hands, and being fake happy. And maybe some kisses but nothing, including lips. I can assure you that. I only want yours”
“Nothing much bigger?”
“No not for the moment, at least. They want us to have this act like we dont want people to know, but we are not good at hiding it. They want us to reveal it in a bigger way, but they don’t know how for now” he knows this isn’t the best, but he wants to at least be completely honest with you.
“No kissing?”
“No I promise I won’t put my lips on hers”
“When does it start?”
“Tomorrow” if people could ask him, no, he didn’t feel like he was doing an interrogation. “I promise I will tell you everything before anything happens so that there is no surprise” he waits a moment before he hears you sigh. You were processing everything, contemplating what to say or even what to feel.
“Okay” you just say.
“Okay? Are you really sure it’s okay?”
“Listen, I’m sorry, but I just don’t know how to feel. Of course I’m not glad and it’s like I don’t understand how it is the best thing to do. My head tells me that you didn’t think of us, of me. But-”
“Y/N I promise you I did it because all I could think about is you and-“ he tries to tell you, afraid that you are mad at him but this time you are the one cutting him off
“BUT at the same time I’m really glad you didn’t expose us. I-We discussed it a million times, and I’m not ready for the public to know. I like us this way.”
“Me too” he smiles for the first time since the start of this conversation. “You know I want to keep you to myself as much as you do” and when he hears you giggles, he just knows that everything’s going to be okay. It will be hard, but you could both survive this.
“You need some rest now, okay? It’s really late for you”
He doesn’t want to go, but it’s really late, and with all the things that happened today, he was just so exhausted. But at the same time, he was glad it was okay between the two of you. “You are right, I should go to sleep”
“When am I not right?” You tease.
“I wouldn’t put myself in your bad side, so I’m not going to add anything .” he chuckles. “I love you so much”
“Really really really?”, and his smile just got bigger.
“Really really really.”
And with that, you hang up the phone. Timothée went straight to bed. He was really exhausted. And on the other side, there is you, looking at your phone reviving everything from this conversation. Your boyfriend is going to date another woman just for the purpose of his new movies. And that’s when it hits your brain, and you couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. You wanted to understand him and the need of this situation, but you just couldn’t. Everything felt like a dream for one and a half years, and now what? The universe didn’t want you to be happy? You aren’t mad at Timothée you really aren’t but how are you supposed to take all of this?
And your head just kept spiralling for at least two hours until there were no tears anymore because you just relaxed yourself. Timothée loves you, and you know it isn’t just words. It’s real, and you love him too, so much. So all you have to do is watch him act in real life with another woman, but you know that at the end of the day, he is yours.
You felt really better, as happy as you can be right now, but you still want to talk a little about it with someone, so you take your phone and dial the number.
“Hi girl what’s up?” Zendaya’s voice comes out once she picked up.
“Hi Z. Nothing much really. I just wanted to talk” you say, and Zendaya could see right through you like a best friend would.
“Aaargh what did he do?” she groans, knowing it's about Timothée and you could hear Tom in the background asking the same thing, and rapidly enough, you are sure Z put the phone on speaker for him to hear. Yes, you were private, but in this world, private means that Zendaya and Tom knew about it. They were your best friends, after all.
“It’s not really him that did something. It’s his PR team” and you go on and on about the whole conversation that you just had with your boyfriend. How he was supposed to date Kylie Jenner and the promises that he did to you and, of course, why he did accept.
“Oh my that’s bloody messed up” Tom says “Ouch!” and that’s Zendaya hitting him on the head. “Sorry Y/n/n”
“No that’s okay, you are right” you chuckle, but Z wasn’t having it. She can’t wait to call this Halamet boy.
“How do you feel about that?” she asks with such concern that you laugh lightly, but soon between your laughs, there is a sob.
“I’m just really, really afraid of what’s coming, guys. I love and trust him with all my heart, but” and the tears are back. “I’m just so afraid of what is going to happen to us. What if this stupid idea just tore us apart? I dont want to lose him.”
“Listen Y/n/n.” Tom catches your attention “You need to calm down because, yes, this idea is really bad, but I promise you that everything is going to work on in the end.”
“He’s right, you know. This guy loves you so much it’s sickening. You two are far worse than us, and that tells a lot. I can assure you that you two will just love each other even more and I can tell you that we have your back. I’m going to make sure that he doesn’t do anything stupid.”
The words of your friends give you so many feelings, and you mostly feel confident. You can do it. You both can because you love each other and mostly you trust each other. It’s just a phase, a bad long moment to go through together.
“Thanks guys, I really appreciate that. Everything is going to work out.”
“Of course it is.” Z add. “I just want to give you a hugg now, but we have to wait two freaking months.”
“Yeah, I can’t wait to see you two at the convention for Dune”
“It’s going to be bloody awesome.” And you all laugh.
“Thank you, guys. I’ll call you later.”
“Bye Y/n/n!” they both say, and then the call is over.
And with that, you work to the end of the day before going to sleep. You. Could. Do. this.
The next morning Timothée wakes up. Not really feeling it. After what happened last night, he doesn’t know what to think. And it’s also because today is the start of the worst role he ever had to play. He goes to his emails and sees that Jack sends him what the plan is for today. Apparently all he has to do is go the his favorite coffee shop to order something and sit for awhile and Kylie will appear like magic and discussing for awhile and paparazzi will have a private source to tell them where they are. At least that’s easy to do and doesn’t need a lot of romance. He forwards you the mail so that you know when you’ll wake up. He just goes on with all the prep he has to do and put on a cosy outfit so that the paparazzi don’t know it’s all a part of the plan. He walks to the coffee shop, enjoying the fresh morning before autumn starts. When he arrives, he orders his coffee and goes straight to a boot next to a window that will be best for the photos. Just when he sits down, he gets a text from Zendaya. Oh no. He was in for a ride.
Z- She called me crying last night.
T- I know it’s really messed up. How is she?
Z- Afraid mostly. She doesn’t want to lose you. I understand your way of thinking but this isn’t a good idea.
T- You really think I don’t know that? I’m sorry, but I just felt so overwhelmed, and I didn’t know what to do.
Z- Just be careful, okay? She trusts you. Don’t make her doubt on anything. Alright?
T- Z I’m in love with her, and you know that. I will do everything so that nothing hurts her more. I promise.
Z- I trust you with that. Call me or Tom if you need help with anything.
T- Will do. Thank you, Z. I promise I will take care of this.
Z- You better.
“I’m sorry, is this seat taken?” he hears a voice. And when he looks up, he sees none other than the Kylie Jenner dresses in a casual outfit with sunglasses on, just like him. She wears a big smile and he reciprocates it.
“Of course not. Otherwise, the plan is not going to work” he feels bad for letting that go so easily. “Sorry just not really feeling like I want to be in this situation”
“Don’t worry about that, I understand. When they told me what we had to do for the sake of our careers, I was a little mad.”
“But you accepted it anyway” he says a little to defensively.
“If you think it was my idea, then forget about it. But I mean, I see where they want to go with this, and it can’t affect me in a bad way, so I signed. It will help my brand, so that’s cool.” She explains.
He wanted to feel hate for her, but this isn’t her fault. Yes, she agrees with all of this, but she doesn’t know that there is someone in his life. He doesn’t know if he should at least tell her so that she knows that there are some limits for him, and that’s why he acts a little too angry. But after reflection, he doesn’t want her to know for now. He doesn’t know if he can trust her. And so the plan begins. They talk, not so much, but they talk a little, and when they receive a text from their managers telling them that the paparazzi are outside, they go and act. Laughing and after an hour of pretending, they both get up and say goodbyes, leaving in different directions.
You are in your kitchen, cooking when you see the photos trending on Twitter. Your boyfriend and Kylie Jenner are laughing while drinking in a coffee shop. You aren’t surprised since you read the mail. And with that, the plan begins. You are okay for now, at least. It’s all fake, after all.
And it goes on and on for a month and a half. They started to do more and more fake dates. Each one you knew about appart for two because Timothée didn’t know about them until they happened. There is nothing to be mad about, but you are hoping it doesn’t happen again because it was making you more anxious. You are globally okay. Each day Timothée makes sure you know that he loves you even if these past few days he stopped sending you cute texts. But you still try to call every day, even if it happens less and less, and he drowns you in sweet words, even if the calls are really short because he’s so tired. There's nothing to be worried about, right? That’s all normal. You think too much.
You are preparing a suitcase because tomorrow you’ll fly out to see Timothée. You are really missing him and sort of in need of his presence. Even with all the sweet words, you are starting to worry a little and to get a little insecure. So, I'm going to pass some time with him for a week before the two of you go to the convention. Will you do you good. You are actually so excited to see his face.
A few hours later, you are at the airport, waiting outside for your boyfriend to come pick you up. He was supposed to be here an hour ago.
Y- Are you there yet?
T- What do you mean?
Y- Well I’m at the airport right now, waiting for you. I already have my suitcase and all.
T- Aargh, I forgot to tell you. I’m with Kylie right now.
Y- Okay I’ll find a way to come.
T- Great. I’m really sorry, mon cœur I really forgot.
Y- Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.
T- Don’t forget to walk in with the back door. Nobody can see you.
You don’t want to answer anymore. Did he forget that you were coming today? That’s impossible he sent you a text this morning telling you how he can’t wait to see you. So... he wanted to see you but he actually forgot when you were supposed to arrive. That’s nice. That’s pretty nice. You then call a taxi, the only way you could go to his house apparently thanks to your boyfriend. Well, thanks to this curly bloody boy.
Yes, you are mad. You don’t want to, but he didn’t have the decency to warn you about this part of this plan. And is it really hard to cancel one fake date? He could have at least done that.
You take a deep breath and sigh. You can’t think that way. You don’t know how much of a choice he has. So you just take your suitcase to go into the taxi and go to his house.
When you are there you remember that you have to go to the back door. It didn’t shock you when he told you to do so because that was how you did it last time. So you just walk in with your keys. You go straight to his room since you supposed that he isn’t there if he is with Kylie. You put your suitcase on his bed so that you can put away your clothes in one of the closets, but you stop yourself when you hear noises downstairs. Maybe Timothée is back. You couldn’t stop smiling when you rushed downstairs to greet him and give him a hug. You enter the kitchen, and when you see him, you just jump on him, giving him a big hug.
“Woaw!! What are you doing here?” he asks with shock, but you don’t seem to catch that this wasn’t really a happy one.
“I thought you weren’t here, that you were with Kylie, so I just came in.” You say with a big smile. But something was off with him even if he hugged you back, and you just realised that. “What’s wrong?”
“Timothée?” and you look up to see Kylie Jenner in the doorway. “Who’s this?” she asks kindly.
“Oh I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you.” And you both shake hands.
“Are you his cousin or something?” she asks.
He didn’t tell her about you. You know that you never discussed it with him, but isn’t it common sense to realise that she should know that he has a girlfriend? So that she knows there are some limits? And that’s when Timothée clears his throat.
“Actually Kylie, this is my girlfriend Y/N”
You can see the shock on her face and just after her eyes widen in realisation. She immediately engulfed you in a hug before looking at you.
“Oh my god I’m so sorry I didn’t know. If I knew, I would never have said yes.” You are actually surprised. You were ready to hate her, but here she is apologising to you. She turns to Timothée. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Yeah we kind of decided to keep it private, and I just didn’t know what to do.”
“Yeah no I understand. I’m just really sorry Y/N”
“Don’t worry about me”
Kylie is at Timothée’s house because they wanted the paparazzi to take a picture of her car in his alley and of her leaving his front door. So you just talked for a few hours. She is really nice but you don’t feel like talking with her. She still is your boyfriend’s fake girlfriend, and watching how the two of them interact with such complicity made you feel more insecure.
Not soon enough Kylie is leaving, you watch hiding in the kitchen how your boyfriend kisses her cheek and says goodbye with a loving smile. He’s really a good actor. Okay, now you have to stop otherwise you’ll break down, and nobody wants that. You decide to go lay on his bed to wait for him to say bye-bye to his wannabe girlfriend. And sure enough, after a while, you feel the bed deepening and arms grabbing you to rest your back against a chest.
“I’m so sorry, mon ange” he whispers while kissing your head. “I’m so happy you are here. I missed you so much” he tights a little his arms. You slowly turn around so that you can take him in your arms, too. You aren’t really okay, but you missed him so much, and you just need him right now. You spend a few minutes like this, relaxed to finally be with each other.
“Are you mad at me ?” he asks quietly.
“I don’t know” you mumbles.
“Please talk to me” he says sweetly, needing you to elaborate.
“I just, I just don’t know what to think. It’s really difficult for me to see you with her. And I know it’s fake but the more you spend time with her the more we don’t talk. You promised you were going to tell me everything and you didn’t keep that one. And you actually forgot that I was coming today and you just left me. I know you don’t always have a say in this situation, but all of this is starting to bring me down mentally. I just miss being loved by you, and I’m so afraid that this thing is going to break us” You are fully crying, soaking his hoodie, but he doesn’t care. All he cares about is how his heart breaks at your words.
“I know it’s difficult, mon cœur. It’s so hard for me, too. I’m sick of seeing myself every day knowing that you are hurt because of me. I know I messed up badly.” He begins to cry in your hair. He sniffles and lift your head so he can look into your eyes. “I promise you, and I can assure you that I will keep this one. I promise you everything is going to be over soon.”
“I really want to believe you, but do you really think that your PR teams could forget this idea?” You say your eyes, no longer looking at him.
“Hey” you look up “I talked to Jack yesterday, telling him I couldn’t do it anymore. He didn’t want to give up at first, but when I told him that a break up would do as much noise as if we were still together, he reconsidered it. He told me that just before Wonka was out, we were going to end everything.”
“So just one month?” You hold so much hope in your eyes
“Just one month. And then, if you are okay with that, I want you to come with me as my date to the first Wonka premiere”
“You mean... going public? Wouldn’t we get more hate than if we would have done it before all of this?”
“I don’t care about what people think of us. I’ll protect you”
“Okay”
“Okay?” he asks with a big smile. “You are willing to do that?”
“Well, I have to tell the world that this boy is mine” you answer with a smile just as big as his. You both chuckle, and Timothée just tights his arms around you, feeling relieved that he hasn’t lost you after all.
“I also had to play the grandma card” he says, causing you to look up at him once again. He could fall in love every day with your eyes.
“You did not!” You gently slap him, and he laughs. “You know your grandma asked you to stop telling people she was sick to get away with everything. One day, she is going to curse you.” And you couldn’t help but to laugh with him.
And right now, while you were laughing with your loving boyfriend, you are full of hope. One month is really long in this kind of situation, but the end is going to be worth it. You just feel like everything is going to be okay from now on.
If only you knew.
---------
That's it for part 2. Hope you enjoyed it, guys!
#timothée chalamet x reader#timothée chalamet x you#timothée chalamet imagine#timothée chalamet x y/n#timothée chalamet#timothée chalamet fanfic
85 notes
·
View notes