Tumgik
#I WAS ABOUT TO GO TO SLEEP AND THEN ONCE AGAIN HERE COMES DAI WITH A STEEL CHAIR
jqnehr · 2 days
Text
❝ 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧'. ❞ | boothill.
boothill x fem!reader.
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and boothill meet in a bar, and have a very nice chat (aka, you flirt like mad).
𝐜𝐰: SFW!! no use of y/n, alcohol consumption (it's a bar come on now), bar banter/flirting. (pathetic attempts at) funny haha humour, and ermm well inspired by old 1950s western films (my dad adores john wayne i cannot escape them HELP), but like in the hsr universe yk. this one was meant to be funny because i had a BALL playing around with boothill's CANONICAL censor oh my god i love him. imagine calling him a fucktard and the only thing he can clap back w is "you son of a biscuit-eating bulldog" (what the french toast?) or something idk. can he say that? or can he only say nice things—anyways enough rambling 😔
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: (continuation from above basically) this man i tell you. i can't sleep. can't eat. he plagues me. day in and day out. i do not have the funds to pull for him. how dare he look at me with that sexy smirk? ain't got no money pal sorry. anyways here's a lil thing i wrote in honour of this man making my chronic fatigue worse <3 NOT PROOF READ. it is currently 12:44am as im posting this so there will be MANY typos haha im going to sleep now.
Tumblr media
"You look like you should be in a saloon."
The gun-slinging Galaxy Ranger glanced up at the woman who just took a seat beside him from beneath the brim of his hat, drawn from his thoughts. She had taken a seat that was a respectable distance from him, two bar stools down, the message clear that she wasn't here to chat him up and lead him off to somewhere secluded and have some 'fun', but was only here for small talk and a drink. Good thing she wasn't coming onto him, too. Saved him having to turn down yet another woman looking for a fleeting one night stand.
He went back to absentmindedly swirling the malt juice around in his glass. Car oil, basically. He let out a small chuckle. "Ain't the first time I heard that one."
"Yeah? Makes sense. Fit's cool, though." She nodded to his cropped jacket, his spurred boots, his pants with their sides unzipped. She didn't seem to be bothered by the sight of his belt lined with ammo and a holstered gun. "What's that your drinking? Looks like engine oil."
"Malt juice," Boothill humoured her. "Can't drink nothin' else. Perks o' bein' a machine."
"Machine?" The woman lifted a brow, taking a sip of her beer. "Ah, gotcha. You're a robot?"
"Cyborg, yeah." It didn't matter if he divulged in her what he usually wouldn't. It was just tedious small talk, a nice weight off his mind, and he wouldn't ever see her again, anyway. "Got its pros and cons."
"I see." He was starting to become rather surprised at how...nonchalant she was about this. She lifted her beer jug to her lips once more. "So, what do you do for a living? Go around cosplaying as a cowboy?"
"Heh. If ya like, sure." Boothill was getting curious. It was once in a blue moon he came across someone as relaxed as this woman. "Let's say, it's my...signature look. Across the galaxies. Helps people remember me."
"You're starting to sound like a criminal on the run," she laughed lightly, only out of politeness, really. "Considering the people I've come across around here, I wouldn't mind getting you've got a bounty on that pretty head of yours."
"Uh-huh." He swigged the last of his malt juice. "Perceptive of you, sweets. You a local? Frequent?"
"Pretty much." She shot him a glance. "And it seems I was right. Eh, don't worry. I don't care enough about ya to turn you in. How much you wanted for, anyway?"
"A lot." Boothill grinned impishly. "Those IPC cuties keep bumpin' the ‘prize money’ up, if ya like." He made air quotation marks. "Yer'd be set fo' life if ya got yer hands on that money."
"I'm sure I would be." She really didn't seem to care. "If you don't mind me asking, what's your name?"
"Boothill," he answered, inclining his head towards you. "What about you, darlin'?"
You gave him your name, downing the last of your beer, before hailing the bartender over for a refill. "Nice to meet you, Mr Boothill."
"D'aw, shucks, haven't been called 'mister' in a long time!" Boothill flashed a toothy grin, showing off his shark-like teeth. He noticed how you didn't recoil, barely even blinked, at the sight of them. "Makes me wanna buy you a drink, sugar."
"By all means." You're never one to pass such a offer up. "And you like to flirt, too, huh?"
He watched you rummage around in your purse for something. You finally pulled out a compact mirror and checked your appearance in its tiny mirror. He leaned forward, took your free hand, and placed a kiss to the top of it, winking at you from under his cowboy hat's brim. "With such a lovely lady as yourself? How could I not?"
You laughed in a rather unladylike way—you, more or less, gaffawed—before retracting your hand and tipping his hat right down over his eyes, disorienting him. Your cheeks burned. "You're a funny one, Mr Boothill. You sure know how to woo a lady."
He adjusted his hat, huffing, leaning back in his seat. "I wasn't bein' funny. I like ya. I don't just kiss any old woman's hand."
"Got a little crush now, have you?" You raised your beer jug up in his direction as a friendly salute of sorts, grinning. "Cute of you. I like you, too, but I'm not letting you take me home."
"Ain't got one to take ya to." Boothill shrugged, not noticing how your smile suddenly vanished and you were looking at him. "Sons of biscuits made sure I couldn't have one no more, 'cause I wasn't about to let 'em get away with shady things they keep nicely under wraps."
"'Sons of biscuits'...?" You echoed, puzzled. You were also suddenly feeling quite sorry for the man. He was a roamer—a nomad of sorts, never stuck in one place for very long. That, you were instantly able to tell once you first laid eyes on his broad back.
"Someone had a little play around with my Synesthesia Beacon, so now I can't say nothin' mean—I'll try to say honey, honey, ugh. I'm tryna say honey." He tsked in frustration. "See? Can't say it."
"You can't swear?"
"Yep. Very aggravatin' at times. Whenever I wanna yell the s-word in combat, I just say somethin' ridiculous like 'terrific!' or 'groovy!' I sound like a right looney tune."
You chuckled. "I can tell that if you didn't have that censor on, you'd have the mouth of a sewer."
"Heck yeah. I'm goin' to town with all 'em bad words right now in my head," Boothill scoffed. "Love 'em, love 'em, love 'em—see what I mean? Hopeless. Wanna drop the f-bomb real bad."
"Perks of being a cyborg, indeed," you laughed, patting his shoulder. "It's rather funny to see such a tough-looking guy like you run around without anything else to yell but 'unicorns! Cotton candy!' when someone jumps you."
He snorted. "That's about right. Had one cutie pie try to mug me once and I was gonna swear his ear off, but all that came out was "look at this angel!" instead of 'punk', but it's a way more colourful word than that."
"Gotcha." You leaned your elbows against the wooden top of the bar. You opened your mouth to continued, but a sudden commotion at the other side of the bar cut you off. Glancing over also, you and Boothill watched as one drunk mountainous guy versus a scrawny little weasel of a man went tooth and nail at each other.
"How's the skinny one still alive?" Boothill amusedly remarked, leaning his cheek on his fist. "Looks like a cartoon."
"Happens all the time." You watched on rather boredly, almost wincing when the small guy very narrowly missed getting his face flattened by his opponent's massive fist. "Those two baffoons are too drunk to think of anything other than settle this scrap with punches. Makes for a good show, though."
Boothill hummed, before turning back to face you. "Can you fight?"
"Me? Well, I know basic self defence, and when to tell someone's spiked my drink." You pushed the beer jug around on the bar top absentmindedly. "This environment's dangerous for a woman. Gotta look out for myself around here. I should stay away, but I like my alcohol."
He chuckled, gazing at you. "Glad to hear that. You ain't some damsel in distress. You're really somethin', you know that, sugar?"
You blushed at his stare and words. "Oh, get off it. It's something every woman's got to know in life. We shouldn't have to, but we do. It's sad."
"Sure is." He pursed his lips, suddenly grave. He may have been a vagabond in a way, but that didn't mean he didn’t have morals. And then he playfully nudged you. "Ya know, seeing an independent, badass lady like you is real attractive."
You grinned. "Boy, if you were anyone else, I would've slapped you for that. That is an instant red flag for any woman in a bar."
"Well, I'll tell ya right now, I'd never harm a woman unless I had no other choice." Boothill stared at you. "Especially not for my own gain. Hurtin' people ain't fun, even though it's my lifestyle."
You shrugged, trying to ignore his intense gaze and the way your heart rate picked up. "A sad reality, but it's nice to come across a man with manners." You finished off your beer and stood, slinging your handbag strap over your shoulder, giving him a kind smile. "Well, thanks for the talk, Mr Boothill. You're a gem."
He stood after you, the spurs on his boots jingling with the movement, before he took your hand and pressed another smooth kiss to the top of it. Then he winked once more, just as a finishing touch, and your cheeks flared. "Any day, darlin'. Say, how about I give ya my phone number? Have another drink sometime."
"You sure? Your vigilante habits wouldn't get in the way of it?"
He laughed goodnaturedly. "Oho, that's funny, sugar. Nah, I'd always make time for you. Here, hand me ya phone."
So you did, and he swiftly typed in his number, before returning your phone to you. "There ya go. Send me a message so I'll know yours." Then Boothill stooped down to eye level with you, staring at you from beneath his lashes and hat, lifting a hand to ruffle your hair affectionately. "Till we meet again, sweetheart."
With that, and a lingering stare as he strode by, the cyborg cowboy left you stunned, heart pumping, phone limp in your hold. He was gone in a blink, giving you no room to wish him farewell also, so you did it by text.
you forgot to pay the bill for your drink
so I covered it for you.
you owe me one, cowboy
His reply didn't take long, and it made your face burn hotter.
Oopsies 🤭
How about I pay you back by taking you to dinner huh?
His emoji usage made you laugh. And so you accepted his offer.
Alright then
I want steak
Can you even eat?
You liked how he always replied fast.
Nah
But that's fine
Your company's better
Suffice to say, you liked the man's suave manner and flirty compliments. It made you feel exhilarated.
Maybe it was because of his classic cowboy moves. Tipping his hat to you in respectful greeting or goodbye, a gaze much too human for a cyborg, and his smooth gestures that made you hot all over.
Yeah. Maybe it was. But, either way, you couldn't wait to see him again.
Tumblr media
© jqnehr 2024. all rights reserved. do not translate, repost/redistribute and plagarise any of my works.
214 notes · View notes
rixsjwb · 1 day
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
smokey geto, university au
Tumblr media
at around 2 p.m., you wake up to the smell of smoke, specifically from a cigarette.
as you feel the sleepiness in your eyes seemingly never going away. You don't fully register what's going on until you eventually sat up. to find yourself sleeping on sugurus bed, while he sat right next to you while satoru played video games with shoko. sukuna and toji scrolling on their phones occasionally showing each other funny videos.
it was weird seeing them not throwing insults at each other and wanting to commit mass murder on one another, as you laid flat on your side, you used your arms too supporting you upright, you couldn't even full take in where to place your hands and you just put it anywhere you could, while doing so your hand lands on something solid and you hear a groan emit from the object.
it was suguru.
your hand had landed on his lower abdomen when trying to sit yourself up, "m'sorry." You say muffled tiredness still lingering in your voice. Your eyes start to see the hazey looking air, thinking your eyes are playing tricks on you, you waft the air in front of you while rubbing your eyes.
you feel yourself come crashing down when the energy you had left, left your body. your head coming in contact with the soft mattress, but you could see suguru in your view of looking up at the ceiling. you could feel his hand running in between the strands of your hair, almost lulling you back to sleep.
but the smoke in the air that starts to go down your lungs caused a violent cough to erupt out of you, drawing most of your friends to check up on you.
"You okay?" satoru asked, the cigarette limply slaying out of his mouth now, gone, as he held it between his index and middle finger. you mumble something that was intelligible, dragging the warm blanket with you too the living room to get more sleep, as the room was pretty much a widefire once the flames were put out, so much smoke.
you never liked when your friends did smoked. not only for their heath but yours too, obviously you don't want to force them too stop, I mean, shokos have been smoking since freshman year, do you really think they'll stop smoking on your request? probably not. Who knows?
as you snuggled up on the couch, the silent aura carried around the living room. You hear the soft click of a door opening and soft footsteps coming closer to you.
you grab the blanket and throw it over your entire face so not a limb is outside of the blanket, but when you feel a hand rest just above you, the blanket acting like a barrier, you start to tug and shove the person throwing their weight on you. you chuckle at their attempt to rip the blanket off you. but eventually, you remove it from your face to see who exactly it is.
"What are you doing here?" You ask tone muffled and quiet even with nothing covering your mouth, "m'wanted peace n' quiet." his baritone voice rumbles as he spoke, sounding a little more raspy than usual, probably from the smoke.
"hey ghetto, how come you always smoke?" you ask a genuine question, you wonder. you watch as he makes a face at the name you jokingly give him, but you both bath In the solitude of eachother.
silence.
"m'dont know, just do, I guess. don't like the smell of the smoke?" he said, you feel hesitant to nod your head, you don't wanna upset him because you don't like the choices he makes, but again it's his body so he can do whatever he'd like.
"yea, aren't you afraid of the lung diseases coming to get you?" You say it's a serious saying, But you can't help but chuckle a little. "You're too young and handsome to spend your days in a hospital." You say, hand stretching out to play with the ends of his long, straight, healthy looking hair. it had gotten longer than you'd remembered.
suguru stays quiet almost in Ponder about what your saying,"and plus not only are you killing you but your killing me cause I have to breath that shit whenever I'm around you, we'll be leukemia twins." Your chuckle sets a vibration in your chest.
you start to play with his hands in the silences, you start to think your words may have come off alittle aggressive and rude, but before you could say anything he beat you too it.
"Don't worry, yr'pretty mind, I promise I'll stop from now on." it takes you by surprise by how quickly it took for him to consider your words.
"You sur-" "Yes, I am. don't want you breathin' in these harmful chemicals."
you decide to joke around with him abit "can I try?" You point to the cigarette in between his fingers, " no silly, it's bad for you." You laugh at the irony of the situation
you watch as he smothers the ciggar into an ashtray, and you can already see the smoke clearing up. he opens the windows to seemingly air out the house before he makes his way back too you, laying his body weight on top of you.
"Get your sleep." he says Ina low tone, his hands drawing soft repetitive shapes on your skin, and he snuggles into your stomach enough to lul you back to sleep.
71 notes · View notes
Text
(Translation) Emma Turns Into a Bunny Again [His POV Story]
Gilbert's new (120k🙃) bonus-story for the My Honey's a Bunny event. The actual title of the story is "How to Properly Keep a Baby Rabbit."
Tumblr media
Contains some sexual content. MDNI.
I was spending my days in contentment after bringing the little rabbit home from Rhodolite when this happened.
Tumblr media
Gilbert: ......
(A rabbit...)
I'd fallen ill last night and decided to sleep in a separate room from Emma so she wouldn't notice.
But when I came to meet her this morning what I found instead was an actual rabbit.
The color of its hair and eyes were exactly the same as Emma's.
And the dress I'd gifted her earlier was now carelessly spread out on the floor.
Gilbert: [still shocked] Did you go and turn into a rabbit again?
When asked this, Emma began to nod repeatedly.
(Well this sure takes me back...)
Back when I'd been staying in Rhodolite, a rather unexpected event had occurred where Emma had turned into a rabbit.
I'd ultimately concluded it to be a dream at the time, and I was sure I was probably dreaming this time around, too.
However, dream or not, that didn't change the fact that Emma was now a rabbit.
Gilbert: Hehe, are you sure it's alright not to run from me this time?
(Even though you were so blatantly scared the last time.)
When I knelt down on the floor, Emma rushed over to me in a series of hops and began nuzzling my knee.
But then she suddenly froze-up for whatever reason and instead began repeatedly tapping me with her front paws.
(I can't really tell what you're trying to say, but... you're being so cute that it makes me want to immediately go get a cage ready for you.)
I picked up Emma the very literal little rabbit with my hands and raised her to my eye-level.
Her rabbit ears twitched as though she were trying to convey something to me.
Gilbert: Is there something you want to tell me?
With another series of nods, Emma took her short little paw and pointed to her own mouth.
(Oh, I see...)
[Flashback to his original event story]
Emma: H-hey, wait... I turned back...
Emma: ...Hold on, I'm naked!?
Gilbert: Completely naked.
[End flashback]
(If I recall correctly, it'd been a kiss that time that had returned her to her original form.)
Her cute, round eyes now were insisting I bring our faces closer.
Getting a request from such an adorable creature would make anyone want to do whatever it asked.
(However...)
Tumblr media
Gilbert: I'm going prove to you that I still love you all the same even as a rabbit. Which is why... you understand, don't you?
(I won't let you kiss me that easily.)
Even though I understood what Emma was flying into a panic over trying to tell me, I hid that acknowledgement behind a smile.
(Wouldn't it be a waste to have you turn back right away when you're this cute?)
Gilbert: It's almost time, little rabbit.
Gilbert: I'm inviting some nobles from the region over today. I figure it's been a while since I've played the Conquering King.
After securing the little rabbit in my breast-pocket so she wouldn't fall, I began walking.
I felt like even the depressing stuff about to come could be enjoyable in itself with the little rabbit at my side.
Tumblr media
I sat on the vile throne and gazed down upon the nobles bowing their heads.
Every time I assumed this position, I was reminded that I wasn't a man but a beast.
But I had the little rabbit sitting all small and quiet on my lap today, and so my mind was at peace.
(Looks like the nobles and soldiers alike are curious about Emma.)
Not that any of them would say a word about it.
Because they were quite aware that any imprudent remark here and now would only result in immediate beheading.
Gilbert: [grinning] Well, then, shall we start?
Gilbert: I've gathered you all here today for no other reason than to discuss the smuggling reports I've received.
The atmosphere grew tense at once.
I gently stroked the little rabbit with my palm when she, too, stiffened.
Gilbert: Those who have any idea about what I'm talking about should step forward now.
Gilbert: I'm in a good mood today. Which means as long as you don't lie, I might actually show a bit of mercy, you know?
Baron: My gravest apologies, Lord Gilbert.
One of the nobles bowing their heads rubbed his forehead against the floor.
Baron: It's true that we discovered a smuggling route within our territory. However, our house is not involved with it in any way whatsoever.
Baron: The matter is currently under investigation, and I have a progress report with me.
Baron: I'm truly sorry for not reporting it before you—
Gilbert: Oh, no, no, I wasn't talking about you.
Gilbert: My words were directed at the man groveling beside you.
Baron: Huh...
Earl: ...T-this is my first time learning about any smuggling—
Gilbert: Ohh, so that's what you're going with.
Gilbert: I was especially trying to show you mercy today, but what a shame.
(Even though I don't want to scare the little rabbit too much.)
When I turned my gaze to my lap I found the little rabbit looking up at me with worry.
(Are you worried about me or are you worried about the man? ...Because if it's the latter, I'll have no choice but to kill him.)
I gave her chin a little tickle as my way of saying things would be okay.
Gilbert: Earl, you used someone else's territory and then tried to pin the blame on them.
Gilbert: It's the deception that Obsidian so adores. But unfortunately, deception is also the very thing I despise most in this world.
Gilbert: I'll ask you one more time, though. Do you really not know anything about the smuggling?
Earl: ......
The man turned pale and held his tongue as I unleashed my murderous intent.
This was common behavior among liars.
Gilbert: ...I see. That's fine, then.
Gilbert: I don't want my adorable little rabbit to have to see any blood. And besides, it's not like there's really any clear evidence to begin with, right?
The earl's blatant show of relief was all-too-easy to understand.
Gilbert: But you know, it's your fault my precious little rabbit is so scared.
Gilbert: To be this frightened... Poor little thing.
(It's probably because of the murderous intent I'd unleashed... But he was the one who made me do so in the first place.)
Perhaps it was animal instinct that made her so sensitive to murderous intent that wasn't even directed at her.
The little rabbit trembled, but when I stroked my fingers between her ears, her tiny face nuzzled closer to me.
Tumblr media
(Crap, I'm gonna smile.)
Gilbert: [managing to keep his cool] Well, at any rate, you're at fault for scaring my rabbit.
Earl: Lord Gilbert...?
Gilbert: Therefore, guilty. Of a grave crime on top of that. Put him in jail, Roderic.
Roderic: Yes, sir!
Earl: Wait a minute! No matter how you look at it, this is just—
Gilbert: Huh, what's that? You dare complain against me?
As I presented my usual smile, the room fell into silence at once.
(Let's see about detaining him on charges of intimidation of a rabbit until he comes clean.)
(...I'll handle whatever comes after when the little rabbit isn't looking... Hehe.)
Once the deceitful man was taken away, not one of the remaining nobles tried making eye-contact with me.
The only one who looked at me straight-on was the little rabbit.
(Another worried reaction.)
(...Is she telling me to show the man mercy? And yet that's not what I'm sensing.)
(What could it be, this unease...)
Baron: ...Lord Gilbert, we...
Gilbert: Oh, I'm finished with my business here, so feel free to retire. Thank you for your hard work.
Gilbert: But do keep this in mind.
Gilbert: —I will never tolerate corruption and deceit. Each and every one of you should give yourselves a good look if you wish to live a long life.
(You guys are my deception reserve group, after all.)
All the gathered nobles saluted in a panic and left the throne room with pale faces.
Tumblr media
Gilbert: Come, little rabbit. I'm sorry for scaring you. I'll bathe you thoroughly as an apology.
Once the audience ended, I immediately put together a hot bath out of concern that I'd exposed her to a filthy atmosphere.
(Although half of it's just my mischievous spirit.)
Surprisingly, the little rabbit didn't show any restraint.
She obediently immersed herself in the hot water in the basin while firmly keeping her head raised.
(She still seems worried even though we left the throne room. ...Am I just imagining things?)
Gilbert: You hated this so much the last time, little rabbit. ...Aren't you embarrassed?
After I lathered my hands with plant-based soap and began stroking it along the little rabbit's fur, her eyes narrowed in relaxation.
(You have complete trust in me nowadays.)
After rinsing her with hot water, I wrapped her small body in a towel.
But just as I did, the little rabbit suddenly began flailing around violently.
Gilbert: Ahaha, are you only now getting embarrassed?
(I wonder if I accidentally touched some place funny.)
I gently held her close to my chest so I wouldn't drop her.
Taking that momentary advantage, the little rabbit nimbly hopped from my arms until the tip of her nose touched my lips.
Tumblr media
(Oh...)
Emma: Whoa!
The rabbit turned into a person right before my eyes.
I obviously wasn't going to be surprised by this in the event it happened a second time.
But I couldn't help but stare fixedly when a wet, naked body appeared before me.
Emma: ....Please don't look at me like that.
Gilbert: [grins] I washed every inch of you, so there's nothing to be embarrassed about at this stage now, right?
Gilbert: But I definitely got careless there, didn't I.
(I never imagined I'd fall for such a basic trap.)
In normal cases I would have absolutely picked up on the little rabbit's ploy.
Gilbert: ...I'm disappointed in myself.
Emma: Hya—
A cute sound spilled from her lips when I bit her neck.
Whether she was a person or an animal, the little rabbit was utterly adorable.
Gilbert: I wonder if a rabbit will listen properly to whatever you say if you train it?
I slid my lips from her neck to her collarbone before descending to her breasts and gently biting the tip.
As I rolled her nipple with the tip of my tongue while taking in the soap's pleasant fragrance, Emma hurriedly tried to push my forehead away with her hand.
Gilbert: [smiling] What is it?
When I peered into her face I found her eyes wavering and trembling with worry, just like when she'd been an animal.
Emma: Gil...
Emma placed a hand on my forehead while looking like she might start crying at any moment.
Emma: I knew it... You have a fever!
Gilbert: [surprised] ......
Emma: Are you saying you didn't notice? Even though you're this hot to the touch?
(Ah... So that was the meaning behind the little rabbit's gaze.)
Gilbert: Hehe, or maybe I'm just aroused from seeing you naked?
Emma: That's ridiculous. Your hands are always cold when you undress me.
Emma: Let's head to bed at once!
Gilbert: When you put it like that—
Emma: I don't mean it in a pervy way, I genuinely just want you to rest!
Emma pulled my hand and forcefully dragged me to bed.
Tumblr media
(...I'm okay, though...)
But just like that, I was laid against the sheets and put to bed.
Gilbert: [smiles] Little rabbit.
Emma: Do you need medicine?
Gilbert: ....Yes. That's right, I need medicine.
I swallowed what I was actually going to say and instead pulled Emma under the covers with me.
Gilbert: Hehe... I have an all-purpose medicine right here, so I imagine I'll get better in no time?
Emma: ...I pray that's what happens.
Emma nuzzled her face into my chest the same way she had when she'd been a rabbit.
She must have clearly noticed how fond the beast was of such an act.
(Baby rabbits are the weakest of creatures in this world.)
(Eaten up by beasts right away, and seeming like they'll die at the slightest thing...)
(Even so, you were the only one.)
(I met with loads of people today, but you were the only one who looked me in the eye and noticed something was wrong.)
(The brave and kind-hearted little rabbit...)
I hugged her hard. Tightly.
Tumblr media
(Please let me feel that this isn't a dream.)
~fin
-----------
If it really is a dream again this time around, then he's having this dream while sleeping, sick, in a separate room. And even though he chose to do so because he didn't want Emma to notice that he's sick, this dream shows that what he actually wants is the exact opposite. I mean, it's Gilbert. Of course that's what he wants. To be comforted. And to catch Emma naked.
I hope he wakes up in Emma's arms. And I hope he gets scolded for trying to hide how he was feeling.
Disclaimer: I just throw stuff into translators online, so accuracy is not guaranteed. References: こくこく 1 | わけでもない 1 | この俺 1 | ともなれば 1 2 | やましい 1
130 notes · View notes
Text
Sleepyhead, part two
the plot is: you have nightmares and can't sleep because of it, luckly alastor knows how to help you.
here is the part one
tw: none, just keep on being cute and sweet
*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ・ 。゚・ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆
You were lying in bed on your back pulling the blanket right up to your chin. Your eyes were wide open, and you gazed into the darkness. The living shadows swirled around your room. They were the uncontrolled tentacles made of darkness, that haunted you every night.
Every time you went to bed and turned off the light, the moment when you almost fell asleep, the dark figures came out and tried to catch you. You opened your eyes, followed their stirs and couldn't move. You perspired profusely, you hardly breathed, and you felt like your own body floated above the bed, as if your spirit left your shell.
The most frightening thing was the feeling, that they were real. They were not a dream. It seemed so to you, because you never noticed, when you fell asleep and began to dream, and also you didn’t notice, when you woke up. Morning came, and the eerie shadows receded, and only then you could fall asleep. But every night they returned again.
These tentacles never touched you, but you were afraid to leave your bed, thinking that it was the only refuge. You knew that if they grabbed you, they wouldn’t let you go, they would strangle you, and you'd become a shadow like them. They were hungry and hated those who could live in the light of day.
Light?
You were lying in bed sweating with fear. The blanket pressed on you like the sky on the shoulders of Atlas, and the time seemed stopped. It seemed the morning would never come. Morning...
Suddenly you thought about the light. These dark creatures never came during daylight hours. They were probably afraid of the light.
A lamp stood on your bedside-table, but it was too far to reach. And you didn't want to make any moves to not get the figures dander up. But if you make a sudden harsh move... If you suddenly jump out of bed, get to the door, jerk it open, then a light must pour out from the corridor, which had never been extinguished there.
Taking a deep breath and mustering your courage up, you jumped out of bed, ran between the tentacles, that almost grabbed your ankles several times, and ran out into the hallway, slamming the door behind you.
You screamed out, when you pressed your back against the door and felt a push. They wanted to get to you. Were you still awake?
You dashed for the main hall, away from your room.
* ☽ ・ 。゚・ ☾ *
When you were downstairs in the dim lit lobby, you heard a slowly jazz music coming from the kitchen. You headed for the sound, expecting to see there the man, who once lulled you with his song. Getting closer, you smelled something savoury. Your mouth filled with saliva.
When you entered the kitchen, Alastor was standing in front of the gas stove and cooking something. He took off his froak coat and worn a light red apron. His cane was placed nearby, and the music was coming out from it with a drowsy buzzing. He was softly humming the melody.
Alastor heard some movings behind him, when you sat down on a chair next to the table. His eares twitched, and he turned his head back. He looked at you in surprise,
"It's strange to see you awaken at the dead of night, my dear. Why aren't you in bed?"
You looked down, "Nightmares," You muttered sadly.
Alastor looked at the rice in the frying pan, reduced the heat and looked at you again.
"Why my dear!" He exclaimed, "You always sleep so sweet, I never thought you could have bad dreams."
"It's only at night," You yawned and continued still looking at your knees, "When the night comes, and everything sinks in the darkness, these shadows creep out of somewhere, and I can't fall asleep because of the fear..."
You were so tired and exhausted with this night. Being here, in the warm kitchen, filled with appetizing smell, when a softly slow jazz swirled around you and Alastor, made you fell into a light doze.
"Hmm," Said Alastor, "You said nightmares, but described it like reality."
"Because I don't understand what it is!"
Alastor heard that your voice began to break, and you lifted your hand to wipe a tear running down your cheek.
"I know I'm not dreaming when I see them, and moreover, they pushed the door after I left. I'm wondering how I managed to escape..."
Tears were running down your face, but you didn't sob. Tears left silver traces on your skin, but in the lighting of the kitchen they seemed bronze. Alastor thought how beautiful you were even in your sadness. But he liked you more with a soft smile on your face, when you slept near him.
Alastor took off the apron and came to you. You didn't see it, you just felt how he gently touched your face. His thumb wiped the tear from the corner of your eye. You looked at him. He held your face in his hands. His soft gaze awakened something inside of you. You didn't want anything but to stare in his big glowing eyes.
You licked your lips and said sniffing,
"I think your dinner is burning."
He raised his eyebrows, his lips formed a silent "O", and he went up to the gas stove.
When he turned away from you, you wiped the rest of your tears glading that Alastor couldn't see your blush as your skin was totally black.
He added some broth in the pan and stired the dish. Breathing in the savoury smell and listening to the music, you thought, why couldn't you fall asleep. The problem wasn't in your bed, you slept there well during the day. The darkness or the night? Well, it seemed more like true. And you thought that your helplessness to the shadows were stupid. But then you remembered how the narrow tentacles wriggled under your feet trying to seize you, when you slammed the door shut. They were moving under the door, and it didn't seem like they were actually afraid of electric light.
You flinched remembering it. But then you remembered how you had a nice sleep at night in the hotel. It was your first night and the night a week ago.
You couldn't say what was special in your first night, after when Alastor had taken you to your bedroom, as it was dark and you were alone as always. you didn't know the truth.
But last week you spent the whole evening with Angel in his room. You were talking about your lives for several hours and ate a lot of unhealthy snacks watching your favorite romantic comedy from when you were alive. You both laughted at stupid decisions of characters, and you both were touched by the same romantic scenes.
Leaning against Angel's shoulder, breathing in his sweet vanilla smell, you fell asleep. You woke up embraced by all his four arms in his bed, just where you fell asleep. In the morning, when Angel woke up, he said that you were too sweet and too cute to be disturbed, so he didn't woke you up. But he didn't say, why he hadn't carried you to your bedroom, and you didn't ask him about it.
* ☽ ・ 。゚・ ☾ *
The darkness and loneliness might had been the reasons of you being haunted by the living nightmares.
Alastor looked at you again. He thought that the nightmares were another curse of you. What an unfortunate darling you were. You told him about your life and how you avoided reality for all your life. And now you were cursed to never get enough sleep, and at night you were surrounded by your own fears and couldn't even close your eyes. Too much for a poor thing like you, thought Aalstor.
"I can't sleep in the dark and I can't sleep alone," You said. It seemed to you, that you had a good sleep then, because Angel was by your side. Maybe these shadows were powerless when you were not alone?
"Alone?" He asked tilting his head.
You nodded.
"Hmmm," Alastor looked up thinking on something. You noticed that he'd already covered the frying pan with a lid. Now his dinner was slowly braised.
"Well, my dear," He said coming up to you, "it's a shame that a sleepyhead like you can't have enough sleep during the night, so she must sleep all day long depriving me of the opportunity to spend time with her. This cannot go on."
He gave you his hand.
"But your dinner?"
"Don't worry, Starry eyes," He said bending in his waist still giving his hand, "I can absent myself for a time. I just want to offer you something, it won't take long."
You took his hand and stood up. He pulled you closer to him, so your bodies touched. Three upper buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned, and you blushed understanding that it was the first time you saw him being so informal.
"Hold on tighter, darling," He wispered in your ear, before you sank into the dark light.
* ☽ ・ 。゚・ ☾ *
You opened your eyes to find yourself in the unfamiliar room. You pressed yourself close to Alastor, his hands were on your shoulder-blade. The wind from the window chilled you, and you cuddled closer up to him. You turned your head to look around and understood, that it wasn't the wind from the window. It was the wind from the forest. The place, where Alastor took you, was half room and half the woods. You both were standing in the room in dark red colors with dark wood furniture, and the other side of the room was a night forest. You heard rustling, chirring, twittering coming from it. It was actually real.
"Welcome to my room, darling," Said Alastor letting you out.
So, it was his room. Before any other thought came on your mind, Alastor placed his arm on your waist and led you to a bed, that was in the center of the room.
"What? What are you doing?" You stopped and looked at him.
"My dear, this place is the safest in the whole hotel, and even in whole hell, if I may say. Here no one and nothing will hurt you. None of your eerie fears will find you here." He carefully placed his arm on your shoulder. His static voice made goosebumps ran down your back. He turned you back to him and pointed at the bed with his cane, "This room, this bed are your refuge. You don't need to be afraid here."
You looked at the bed. How cozy, how warmly, how alluringly it looked. You yawned. What was the use of refusing? After crying your eyes were tired, you wanted to close them and fall asleep. The bed seemed just perfect. The room was warm, and the chill of the forest helped you not to feel too much hot.
You glanced at Alastor. You didn't mind using his bed at all, but if he offered it to you, where would he spend the night then?
"And what about you?" You asked.
"Oh, darling," He softly smiled at you, "I'm the exact antithesis of you. While you always want to sleep, I have insomnia."
"Ohh," You pronounced. "Poor thing," You thought, "It might be difficult not to sleep, and not to see dreams."
You turned to the bed and then turned to Alastor again. He looked at you expectantly.
You slowly climbed into bed. Bed linen was soft and it smelled like... It smelled like Alastor. It was the same scent as when he had pulled you closer to him, before you both faded away in his shadow and turned out here.
You lay your head on the pillow and sank in its softness. But it wasn't too soft. It was just perfect. Like all his bed. Like all his room. A smile spread across your face.
You turned on your right side to look at Alastor and thank him. But you didn't have time to say anything, because he wrapped you in the blanket like a child. He tucked the blanket in, so you wouldn't get cold. When he leaned lower over you to tuck the blanket behind you, you tilted your head in the way so your lips "accidentally" met his chin. He froze still leaning over you.
You were lying between his hands, his face was in two inches of yours. He saw a sly yet shy smile on you. He smiled back, and your heart skipped a beat. You thought how beautiful he was. Maybe even too beautiful. You could drown in his crimson gleaming eyes, that hypnotized you.
Very slowly Alastor lifted his head to leave a tender kiss on your forehead.
"Goodnight, my love," He wispered.
You didn't open your eyes still feeling his lips on your forehead, and only when you heard a rustling, you opened your eyes and turned to the right. Alastor had just disappeared in the shadow.
Did he call you love?
You blushed so bright, that if there was anyone in the room, they would had seen the explosion of the supernovae on your cheeks.
It was just like in your best dreams.
You made yourself more comfortable still smiling because of the sudden tenderness of Alastor. You breathed in the smell of bed linen. It savoured with his astringent cologne, with fur and a little bit of smoke, because of the fireplace opposite the bed. You thought, this was what home smelled like.
You were lying with your eyes closed waiting for sleep to come. Firewood softly crackled, crickets chirred in the woods. Suddenly a radio on the piano turned on, and you heard a sweet female voice. The radio played quietly, and the singer's voice sank in static. You noticed that this buzzing of the radio was a comfortable sound for you, as it brought drowsiness to you.
♪ Night winds seem to have gone to rest,
Two eyes, brightly with love are gleaming ♪
You heard it through the somnolence and smiled.
The radio kept on playing quietly until you fell asleep in the room, that was yours now...
* ☽ ・ 。゚・ ☾ *
Alastor returned to the kitchen. His dinner was already done. He turned off the fire, mixed the dish and put some in a plate. The rest of the dish he put off in a basin and left it to cool, so that he could put it in the fridge later.
Usually Alastor didn't think about something secondary during a meal enjoying the food. But this time he couldn't help think about Sleepyhead. He remembered how she said, that she couldn't sleep alone. Could it be that all this time she was tormented by nightmares and did not sleep? Alastor remembered how he carried this tiny demon to her room at the first night. And how he stayed by her for all night long and watch her sleeping. She seemed had a very pleasant dream then. She always looked just as cute when she slept during the day, leaning on his shoulder.
Now he didn't even want to leave her alone in the bedroom. But he thought, that she might feel herself uncomfortable, if he stayed next to her and watched her until she fell asleep. Moreover he was extremely hungry. For the whole day he couldn't put something in his mouth, and now he was ravenous, so ravenous he couldn't guarantee that he wouldn't suddenly eat her. After all she smelled very good.
Alastor raised his eyebrows in surprise, when his staff turned on the music. His hand with a fork froze on halfway to his mouth. From the staff a woman sang a lovely song. Alastor finished his dinner, rested his head on the hand and listened.
This singer was famous when Alastor was alive, but he never took a great interest in her. But now he liked the song and the voice.
♪ Come to my arms, my dear one,
my sweetheart, my own ♪
Alastor stood up and put on his froak coat. With a snap of his fingers the dirty plate became clean and it came in the kitchen cabinet.
♪ Kind night, bringing you nearer,
dearer and dearer ♪
Alastor beat the ground with the cane and the music stopped.
* ☽ ・ 。゚・ ☾ *
When Alastor came to the bedroom it was already deep night. He saw you wrapped in the blanket, lying facing the forest. He came up to bed and heard your softly breathing. Alastor made the lights dimmer and, coming to the other side of bed, his clothes changed into the satin dark red pajamas.
Alastor saw a sweet smile on your face. You brought your hands to the face squeezing the edge of the blanket in your fists. You looked like a little doe, so small and innocent. You curled up, and Alastor took out a woollen blanket from a commode. He climbed into bed and covered you with the wool.
"Alastor..." You murmured in sleep.
He froze. He heard millions times before, how you talked in your sleep, but you'd never talked about him. Hearing his name on your soft moist lips was more than he could stand. His heart beat faster, and he felt ache in his stomach. You were so close to him, he felt your milky scent and felt your breath on his lips.
You stretched out your hands and embraced him. He fell next to you on the blanket. You wispered his name again, and his heart melted.
"You'll never go back to your bed, dear," He wispered buring himself in your fluffy hair and embracing you. He placed a kiss on your crown, and you smiled.
Alastor yawned. How strange, he never felt drowse lying in bed, but when he was next to you, felt your warmth and heartbeat...
He didn't notice how he fell asleep, with his head resting on yours, which you laid on his chest.
*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ・ 。゚・ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆
invitation for deerner: @serapinaxx @noraunor
p.s.
sorry for it taking so long, another busy week at university, and now i feel myself like Sleepyhead herself hahaha
i hope you liked the part two and i wish you all sweet healthy sleep and kind fluffy dreams ♡ ♡ ♡
77 notes · View notes
lunaroserites · 2 days
Text
Does Heaven Even Know You’re Missing
Paring: Established Bucky X Fem!Reader (Sugar)
Summery: Just a snippet Sugar and Bucky. Steve is alive. Part of the Sugar AU. Inspired by a song of the same name by Nickelback
Warnings: Nightmares, comfort, fluff, no use of Y/N, Not beta'd all mistakes are my own
Word Count: ~1005
Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3
Read Too Sweet here
Tumblr media
Whimpering, you heard whimpering as you stirred awake which caused you to jolt upright and look around. Looking at your phone after you snatched it from the bedside table it read 4:03am. You felt him thrashing a little next to you and the whimpering got louder. Quickly you turned and leaned over him, he was squirming, there was a very evident sheen of sweat over his entire body. 
He had been working on staying in bed for the whole night, it was proving to be a difficult task these last couple weeks. A difficult mission seemed to have rocked him in some way he refused to discuss with you. He didn’t want to scare you, but he was scaring you more by hiding it. He was a stubborn man, proud and terrified you would look at him differently if you knew everything going on in his tangled web of a mind. 
He had told you once that the first time he stayed in bed all night was the first time you stayed over, he didn’t start in bed and end up on the floor in the living room like always. You brought peace to his soul, calmed his racing thoughts and soothed his worries. With you in his arms, he felt safe. 
You quickly pulled the blanket down and off him so he wouldn’t feel confined, you touched the lamp stand, casting a dim amber light over you two. His eyelids were fluttering as his eyes moved frantically under them. You touched his cheek softly and stroked it gently. 
The first time he had a nightmare in bed with you, was scary. You had to call Steve to help. Now you have a routine, you didn’t leave. His grip on your waist wouldn’t allow you to anyway. 
“Bucky,” you cooed softly, “Bucky,” you stroked his cheek gently again and you felt his grip tighten momentarily on your waist. His fingers flexed and gripped the soft fabric of your night dress. He moved and turned over you, tucking his face into your neck and inhaling deeply. 
One, two, three, four, five deep breaths later he collapsed on top of you. His weight was comforting and his intangible murmurs as he came too were almost relaxing. You gently stroked his hair and rubbed his shoulder. 
“Just say you’ll stay and never go,” he mumbled into your ear, his hot breath fanning over your neck. “Never leave me here alone,” your heart broke at the desperation in his hoarse voice. 
“I’m not going anywhere,” you murmured softly into his ear as you kissed his temple. “I’m here forever,” you hugged him tightly. He whimpered into your neck and shifted so you were tucked safely next to his large body, cradled into his chest. 
“The day I finally felt alive,” he said, his voice trembling as he gripped your mid section tightly, holding you tightly to his chest. “Was the day you fell into my life,” he whispered into your hair, his hot breath fanning over your scalp. 
“Bucky,” you said softly. “I love you.” 
“I love you too,” he snuggled closer. 
Sleep didn’t come easy again, every twitch of him against you made you wake up. Every deep breath made your breath hitch. You were afraid he was slipping again, back into his mind. You feared he was caging himself into his mind, screaming for help he wouldn’t dare ask for. 
You felt hot tears well up in your eyes and your breath stuttered out as you tried to calm yourself. He was the one who was having nightmares, he was the one scared and here you were crying because of how it made you feel. You felt selfish. You cared so deeply about him, you fought so hard to make him realize you were there, forever. You weren’t going anywhere. 
“Sugar,” his voice was coarse and thick with sleep. “Honey,” he cupped your tear streaked cheek and turned your face toward him adjusting so he was propped up on his arm. He peered down at you, his eyes swimming with so many emotions you couldn’t place just one. “What’s the matter?” He asked softly. 
You brought your hand up and stroked his stubble covered cheek and let the tears come freely. “I’m worried about you,” you whimpered out. You hated how emotional you were, you were so quick to cry when emotions got high. 
“Ssssh,” he pressed a firm kiss on your forehead. “I’m fine sweetheart, it was just a nightmare.” You took a few deep breaths and tried to compose yourself. 
“It’s more than just a nightmare,” your voice was small, fragile. “You’re slipping again,” you didn’t want to sound like you were accusing him of anything. Something in his eyes broke, you were prepared for him to do what he would usually do, put a wall up and ignore it until it exploded out of the seams. His shuddering breath caught you off guard. 
“I am. I’m sorry I tried to hide it,” he said softly, he was half lying on top of you, his big hands holding your head and stroking your face, his hot breath fanned over your face as he stared into your eyes. “I’m afraid you’ll leave. If you knew about the things I’ve had to do. The things I’ve done.” You went to speak, he shushed you again. “Not before. Now. The things I do on missions. I’m not sure I’m a soul you can save my sweet angel.” 
“Bucky,” you placed your hand over his and slipped your fingers between his. “I’m not leaving. I promised you.” 
“Heaven is going to come for you one day. When they realize you’re missing,” he murmured and rubbed his nose against yours. 
“I traded an eternity to come and hide away with you,” you whispered back, relaxing under his weight as he settled. 
“I’m never gonna give you back,” his voice was soft, and he pressed a gentle kiss on your lips.  You were his sugar, his sweet angel, his everything. 
Feel free to send me a message if you have a request or would like more, or would like to be added to the tag list ❤️
56 notes · View notes
thesamoanqueen · 2 days
Text
Blackwater XIX
Raiting: 18+
Warnings: well I said a couple of months ago that something was toxic… there’s a lil bit of non-con this time, so if someone of you is not ready, im sorry, is that chap.
A/N: this chapter wasn't very easy to write, but the next ones won't be either, let's wish each other good luck.
Tumblr media
She had hoped to go somewhere else, but with problems piling up day after day doing so wasn't even an option. It was safer to stay south, where their reservation still acted as a natural stop to any external influence coming from across the border, plus Roman was in the area, though again not there with her, having yet another meeting with yet another person for yet another deal.
She hadn't been very happy about it at first, but had to admit at least to herself that maybe it was for the best. In town she had finally found something she could bring to Lisa to thank her and plus they were relatively close home, which meant they would be there before night and she could go to bed to recover a bit.
The stress caused by the situation did not help either her mood or body already affected by hormonal swings of a heat that Y/N prayed to postpone as long as possible. She wasn't sleeping well due to too many thoughts, she was losing her appetite, as well as the desire to go running and that afternoon she had another one of her waves of shivers which was trying to fight with some hot chocolate in an attempt to also replenish a sugars. She had bought Solo a coffee too, but he kept holding it in his hand without drinking, too busy glaring at anyone who dared come closer than necessary, that was not even so close.
- You didn't grow up here, did you? – she asked, interrupting silence between them once again, because they spent a lot of time together, but even if he seemed willing to talk with her, their conversations were never long.
He looked at her a bit confused, putting aside his perpetual serious face for a moment, coffee still in his hand.
- Jimmy said you came here after, like me – she explained, letting out an encouraging smile and he shook his head no.
- I grew up in the area, with my family.
Y/N let out a surprised oh, going back to twirling the straw in silence as they walked towards the suv.
From the stories she had thought he had come from out of state to help Roman, but she probably misunderstood. She hadn't spent much time with Solo's family, she had only seen them once actually and he didn't open up more than necessary, most of the time talking about what there was to do during the day, well she talked, he was more comfortable listening.
- Not with them. They were always together somewhere. – he added unexpectedly, perhaps not to make her uncomfortable with another silence or perhaps not to make her feel so out of place and Y/N smiled gratefully.
Y/N saw him nod slightly, as if satisfying her had satisfied him too.
She had never really thought about it, but there was an age gap between him and those three. Now he was a big boy with muscles and a menacing look, in those years he had probably just been a kid that them didn't want around. She couldn't imagine what it was like, Y/N hadn't had any brother or sister, she had grown up alone, but the half year spent with all of them before the chaos was enough for her to understand. Maybe he couldn't have tolerated them as a kid, always together already as pack leaving him at home and doing their own business, but now he was a man, it was different.
His family is broken.
- I'm sorry, Solo...
Standing next to the black suv, he looked at her, again confused by her reaction.
- We have to do what needs to be done.
- They're your brothers no matter what.
- I swore to the Tribal Chief. They did it too. – he said serious, his tone almost angry.
In packs like theirs, still tied to old laws and traditions, it was normal to have a relationship of deep respect with those at the top. Those were legacies that were now intertwined with a changed society but still subject to natural balances, such as the amendment on property rights between mates and social hierarchies for those who belonged to or were born from groups not commonly seen well. Y/N, with her omega smell, knew a lot about it and had had to deal with it there too in the first few months, but the prospect of an acknowledgment, oath, was new and something she hadn't heard.
She saw Solo open the door to let her in, his face less angry, but still solemn.
- You don't have to – he reassured her, mistaking her silence for concern, dark round eyes stopping too long lower, at the base between her neck and shoulder, where Y/N had tightened her jacket trying to send away the cold shivers – you already have his… smell.
Smell wasn't the word he wanted to say, but what Solo was referring to, she didn't have yet.
Our mark. His mark.
That too was an old legacy, dangerous in her case, but Y/N didn't have time to think too much about it by looking for her phone which in the meantime had notified of a message.
***
Paul was a smart man. Roman had chosen him as a wise man for that very reason. There was no one in the entire country more capable than him, no one who had his level of experience. He was a lawyer, an advisor, a connoisseur, he had political support, important acquaintances within the packs and outside, plus his family had practically adopted him when he was a boy, so he was not a stranger. The wise man was many things, but honest only when necessary and Roman had never had a problem with that kind of approach in their time together. He tolerated all sorts of expedient for his purpose, he had learned the hard way how much it cost to have feelings, but everything changed if those tricks helped something of which he was not made aware.
Because Roman knew from years and life lessons. Loyalty and trust were something he no longer expected, from anyone and certainly not from someone who had stayed afloat when everyone else drowned. Everyone could be a friend, everyone could be an enemy, his wolf now did no exception and all the whispers, phone calls and messages that kept Paul busy even when they were together were nothing but further proof of a picture that he knew. The wiseman acted driven by the feeling of ground crumbling beneath their feet, frightened by changes that his cousin and those dogs on the border threatened, by the possibility of a future that Roman would not allow as long as he was able to breathe. He loved the wise man, he could forgive him being a coward, pretending not to see, at least until he took a step too far.
- So? – he asked annoyed, almost making the phone fly out of his hand.
- Two weeks. Tomorrow both of you will exchange the sogi – he reported in a heavy voice, his shoulders low, his face frowning as if someone had just stepped on him after the news.
He didn't like the prospect of that fight, first of all because he was risking his head. Roman knew even without having to ask that he would play his cards to make things better and save everything, but for him the two weeks he had dealt were too much time and those plans useless. Fourteen days were the ritual time to provide what was necessary for families, so that both parties were ready for any outcome, but for him were just a useless wait. He wouldn't be the one to lose, he had no alternatives to plan unlike Jey, he just needed to have free way and get his hands on his cousin.
- About the stipulations, I was thinking- he advanced, trying to recover as much as possible.
- There are none.
- My Tribal Chief, if I may, considering what we are facing now, it would be better to leave a few more resources and perhaps-
- There will be no stipulations.
He had complied with stipulations, conditions for weeks, suffered weakness for months, the time for mercy was over. He had left many doors open for his cousins, he had tried everything and Jey however had gone where he shouldn't, disrespecting him to the point of contesting him with the Elders, they had gone too far and now there was only one way to put an end to it. The only acceptable stipulation was unconditional surrender, total humiliation, there was nothing else to talk about. Guts were needed to keep their family in line, his dad had reminded him of this and Roman was not willing to receive other reminders in the future, he was no longer a boy. Whatever happened next, he would handle it the way he handled everything, with a firm grip and without regard, he didn't need those two to do it. He was the alpha, he had control and winning cards to play against everyone.
- How much longer do we have to stay here? – he asked, tired of waiting, staring with annoyance at the watch on his wrist.
They had been in that office longer than he was willing to tolerate and he couldn't stand listening to the wise man calls or him typing messages anymore, he didn't have all day to waste signing a deal with the governor. He had to train, dedicate the next fourteen days focusing on the goal, not sitting bored in a chair waiting for a paper that should have already been ready the second he set foot in that building.
- I'm going to immediately check where Pearce has ended up, my… – the wise man snapped to attention, but he barely managed to turn to go towards the door – tribal… chief.
Roman smelled him before even moving his gaze to the man accompanying Pearce. He had no idea who he was, he didn't remember his face if they had ever met before, but he had a smell that he didn't like. He didn't like the smell of him, he didn't like the way was staring at him, he didn't like the attitude and he sure as hell didn't like that he came around when he had business to do.
We don't like him.
- Reigns.
Pearce greeted, already adjusting glasses on his nose, his expression stressed as always. Roman didn't even look at him, focused on observing the new arrival who was already taking place at the table without having been invited. Pearce had that same attitude in the past, a couple of years ago, until Roman had taken it away from him in his own way and since then had never reappeared. He almost wanted to do the same with that new guy.
- What’s this idea Mr. Pearce?! It was supposed to be a private meeting for private business! Very important business! It's unacceptable! – complained the wise man, standing up against that lack of respect.
- Our new neighbors have informed the governor of activities across the border. It seemed right to him to invite Mr. Aldis as a delegate to clarify before signing anything. He’s in charge of that area now.
That's what he was. Another puppet, another well-dressed small dude convinced to have power or a chance against him, thought he was worth something, that he could stand face to face with Roman, thanks to the talks of those idiots to whom his cousins had left the field free. They were becoming arrogant, stupidly brave, throwing in his face that he had lost his hold in the north and that now there were others there. They hadn't gone too far yet, keeping everything legal, moving with what they could to make their voices heard, their new influence known, but Roman was fine with those games as long as they didn't go beyond the limit. And the limit was his patience running out.
- Since you no longer have jurisdiction there and the upcoming Bloodline activities threaten the entire area, restrictions must be established for the future. Real restrictions Mr. Reigns that I will take care of enforcing and making clear to you. Without it, nothing new will be authorized. – the new dude, Aldis, announced, openly defying his influence, head held high and the wise man behind him jumped.
They wanted to authorize him.
- How dare you- he screamed, but Roman simply raised a finger to silence him, the other hand gripping the chair.
That tanned, smug face of him would have looked perfect smashed onto his table or on the floor, better under his foot.
They wanted to play the big game, gamble when he already had more important business to take care of. It was almost hilarious, almost because that little game would be short-lived. He would let them do it, for a while, until Jey got what he deserved since everything that was happening was his fault. That was what happened if they left their side exposed, if they allowed a pack of strays to smell weakness, it was the price to pay for a crack and the reason Roman would have no more second thoughts.
Elders were right, he had to focus, do what he had to do and what he had been chosen for. He couldn't afford any more weaknesses or they would become ready and able to bite his throat.
- Go ahead – he conceded, collecting himself.
He would get rid of them one by one, blood of his blood or not. Without mercy.
***
She had sought comfort between now cold sheets smelling of him, curling up her legs for extra warmth, keeping her eyes tighter to ward off thoughts ready to fill her mind, but hadn't made it and her she-wolf had found Roman through the link. She had sensed him immediately, probably because he wasn't shielding anything believing that she was still asleep and Y/N had snuck out to join him in the dim light of his home office.
Mate is not here with us.
He was sitting on the couch with a solitary lamp, his face serious, fingers running through the seeds of his necklace. He was physically there, but his head was somewhere else as happened too often now. In the house he always kept the ulafala in the case, but Y/N didn't need to ask to know why he was there staring at it when he was supposed to be resting by her side, in their bed. Paul had told her as soon as he received the news, keeping to their agreement or perhaps already seeking help and Y/N had finally given a deadline to the anxiety that was weighing on her.
Fourteen days of peace before chaos, before completely crumbling what was left of the family, but in a few hours it would truly become inevitable. Or it was probably already late judging by Roman's face.
- Will you have to wear it? – she asked in a whisper, entering the room almost on tiptoe.
He hadn't told her anything about how the meeting would take place nor had he added anything about the fight, but she couldn't blame him. She had promised to stand by him, to defend him, yet she hadn't reacted well to his drastic change of plans and he didn't seem to really understand why she hadn't accepted it. What had happened was serious, but what could happened next would be even worse. Standing, she watched him keep his gaze fixed on the symbol of sacrifices, of his role and pains without turning to look at her and she too observed it, perhaps expecting a revelation.
Red for power, seeds for the rebirth of the dynasty.
She knew the value and pride behind that object, Roman had told Y/N all the stories about the ulafala, but no matter how hard she tried in her eyes it was only a necklace left weighing him down. It should have given him strength, conveyed his strength, represented the family future and instead he found himself fighting to keep it around his neck, to keep what he had gained after an argument born from unpleasant circumstances and degenerated due to old grudges.
- I earned it, represents me – she heard him reply, because in his mind it was the only thought.
She felt it, she knew it. He felt his efforts, sacrifices threatened and they were, but Y/N still felt like it wasn't Jey or Jimmy who was the real danger. At least not initially, now everything was a danger, even the elders who were supposed to accompany and advise him. Them all had fallen into a trap were building with their own hands and she couldn't resign herself to the sight of that disaster.
He's not just that for us.
- You don't need it – she reminded him, stopping looking at the ulafala to focus on him.
She saw him inspire with frustration, felt annoyance pass through him at the mere idea of continuing that conversation, his eyes far from hers.
- Go back to bed Y/N.
- Come with me then, is not mornin yet – she insisted, refusing to give up.
They had different opinions, different approaches, it had always been like that and perhaps it would never change, but they were on the same side. She didn't want to go back to their room if he wasn't there, didn't want to sleep if he wasn't there, she had been alone for too long to throw away moments, to wait two weeks to pass and then hope to go back to what they had before. She trusted Roman, she had never trusted anyone like him, but it wasn't going to end up with Jey and Y/N was honestly afraid of the aftermath he talked about. The threats were different, without blood ties and were just waiting the right moment to attack him, they wanted to get him out of the way and take everything, not just his role. No one can get rid of a weed without pulling out its roots. It had already happened with her family and now can happen again because he was focused just on what was in front of him. But she couldn't wait for the inevitable, it wasn't in her nature to do what she had to do or what he wanted, she existed to do what he couldn't.
She saw him stay silent, sign he had no intention of moving. So she stood in front of him, slipping the ulafala from his fingers without asking. That move finally forced him to raise his head, trying to understand what was happening, while she carefully placed it back in the case where he kept it and then went back to the couch. She listened him breathe heavily, scratch his dark beard with a grimace, and she sat down on his lap to take up the entire view.
- Ain't doing this talk once more – he stopped her soon, shaking his head.
- Not even if im the one asking? – she tried, seeing him immediately clench his jaw.
- Im doing it for you, for us, all! I told you and you said we were on the same side, now what?!
- I'm not taking anything back. I'm just worried it’s already too much – she confessed, not really knowing how else to explain the feeling in her.
Maybe she was giving in to the hormones, anxiety, or maybe was the fact she hadn't cared about others in years like she did now for him, but it was all happening so fast and whether Roman was ready to admit it or not, he was losing control and not facing things with a right mindset. Those outbursts of anger, the way he turned against everyone, judgments, drastic solutions, he was getting carried away by the desire for revenge and his justice. He kept saying he was doing it for them, for their future and instead seemed like a pretext to rush towards other problems. They didn't need acknowlegment, a border to build anything, they were fine, everything worked when it was just them, together. They had never been happier than in the time spent getting to know each other, digging their bond out of the dust and strengthening it. Life certainly couldn't be made up only of moments like those, dates and runs in the woods, but things could certainly have been different.
- Whatever it takes, doesn't matter, at all – he announced, almost exasperated by having to explain, by having to hear, his gaze so confident and Y/N stared at him for a moment without being able to say anything else.
Whatever it takes, he said.
The prospect of those sacrifices and ease which he said he wanted to face them would torment was heavy, but as she had sadly learned to do growing up, she hid all the worry in the back of her mind.
He didn't listen or maybe he didn't want to.
So Y/N simply moved closer, challenging his growing temper, to seek some warmth and his lips in an uncertain kiss. Saw him look at her almost suspiciously for her reaction, studying before reciprocate the kiss and sliding his hands down her thighs. Close, felt their breaths slowly mix in the silence of the dark house and that warmth she had found too late, growing from the most vulnerable part to her chest begging for comfort.
- You matter to me – she reminded him in a heated murmur, forehead resting on him, swollen lips touching, eyes burning for something that went beyond words.
She didn't really care about anything else. They could have been anywhere, surrounded by anyone or in utter desolation and Y/N would still have searched for those eyes. They were her firm point, he was her person. The thought of it terrified her, but she was done fighting and pretending. Roman was everything for her, she had nothing else anymore and she wanted, hoped... he would understand that for that exact reason they couldn't give in. They had to stay together, as a pack, mates.
She saw his gaze lingering on her lips, rising then to meet her eyes, two brown pools now dark in the dim light of the room. Felt his fingers gripping her hips, digging into soft flesh with possession, domineering and lust, marking her skin to claim and force her where she already was.
- Then you gonna be there with me, as you should – he demanded, resolute and despite fighting with everything her head suggested, Y/N nodded to please him again, letting Roman finally crash his mouth against her, satisfied.
They would find a way, they would find a solution even if it seemed difficult, they could do it together, but in that moment Y/N just needed to feel him close, just for her, far from all the noise and problems that awaited them out. They could give themselves that moment of rest, cherish it and Y/N rocked on him, moaning into his hot mouth as their bodies inexorably warmed up. His tongue was insatiable, ready to devour and intoxicate her with his good taste, thrown into a fight that she didn't even dare win. She preferred to let him have control in those moments, while her fingers made their way through dark soft locks, scratching the back of his strong neck to once again elicit that raw growl that vibrated through his broad chest into her bones. Felt his hands slide deeper, grasping her ass, encouraging Y/N to move her hips, pushing on his boner which was quickly answering to juices already wetting his pants.
She had stopped wearing panties when they went to bed a while ago and now was even grateful. She would bear nothing but the feeling of his hard body against her, pressure building like a blessed torture as he guided her growling for her to ride him shamelessly. Y/N had been trying to slow down and control herself for months now, so as not to give in to the heat of their bond, stay with feet on the ground and mind clear now that everything was falling apart, but it was an inexorable descent faster every time Roman touched her. She clung to him, feeling one of his hands travel up under her shirt to roughly grab one of her breasts, his calloused palm rubbing her sensitive nipple making her squirm. Her body had always been hyper-reactive to his attentions, but now she had fallen into a spiral with no exit. Y/N yearned him like a castaway for salvation and in moments like that the need mixed with something more, something that Y/N had never felt for anyone else and her she-wolf fought to make her whisper.
Tell him. We need him. Our mate. Tell him.
- My pussy wet as fuck hm? You need me, don't you? – he said voice like velvet, breaking their kiss and motioning for her to raise herself just enough to sink easily into her cunt – Ima fill you up good, babygirl… don't worry. Aint going nowhere and you'll be stuck with me.
The heat caused by his intrusion had already forced Y/N to open her mouth without being able to speak back, but the sudden thrust of his hips quickly accelerating to pound her almost made her cry. Hands tightened on his shoulders, eyes narrowing with each thrust and then opening as the wave of heat rose from her belly, sending her entire body into flames. Bouncing on his lap, she felt Roman moving his hand from her breast to give her a sharp slap on her ass, he did it one more time drawing a moan and then move up to her throat, to squeeze it just enough to bring tears to her eyes. Quickening the pace, in the frenzy of their moment, Y/N began to confuse the her own pounding heart with the slick sound of bodies slamming together. Her mind becomes more clouded by the second, ears filled with Roman's growls and threatening promises like dark spells ready to tear her soul and climax away. Confused between pleasure and desperation, she held him to her as he held her by the throat, twitches of her wet center uncontrolled amidst the panting of both of them that grew angrier. Room around flashed, throbbing like folds around his cock, impregnated with smell of their bodies, air charged and heavy, saturated with sweat and lust, with a mix of their smells.
They were racing with no intention of slowing down, as if the only goal was to consume, melt and crumble thanks to the other one. Y/N end came sudden and violent between a sloppy kiss and a particularly insistent push on that soft point on which Roman loved to rage without any mercy, fast, powerful, in a strangled moan that made her bare feet tingle, rising in an electric discharge up her legs to a sweaty body, chest begging and hot face. She closed her eyes, grabbing Roman's arm for her life, throwing her head back and then immediately hiding her face on his shoulder because he wasn't slowing down, he wasn't even giving her a moment to breath and she had already went over her limit. Heat kept growing and shake her, causing Y/N to lose all contact with her surroundings, ears ringing as if she had been underwater, body still crying out for more while Roman pounded furiously. Stunned, she stood abandoned in his arms, letting him have his way as he wanted, until something made her eyes widen, pushing her to gasp.
- R-Ro- she tried, because his hand had somehow left her throat, to grab Y/N by the back of her neck and tilt her head to the side.
He was holding her by her curls, beard scratching her hot neck, tongue ready to lick away sweat from her sweet pulsing weak spot to prepare it.
- Easy, stay still – his breath against her skin, so close, pushed Y/N to stiffen as much as his words – I'll be gentle, ssh…
Roman had never pushed, he had never held her like he was doing at that moment and feeling his teeth on her flesh sharper than usual, Y/N wriggled away.
- Don't - she tried again, feeling him tighten his grip, slowing down his thrusts, another hand moving to her wrist.
Why he was acting like that?
- Don't panic, its me – he reassured her, words heavy, attitude raising for her reaction and she planted her feet, her only free hand tapping on his bare chest.
It was him, Roman? Was it really him that one? Suddenly Y/N wasn't so sure and ignoring her wolf pleas, confused between the sense of discomfort and desire to give in, she pushed again to put some space between them.
- Y/N
- No, not like this! – she wailed and when finally managed to slide away from his legs, Y/N saw him jump up with a growl.
The crash of the coffee table froze her on the couch, eyes wide as she watched him pant in anger with clenched fists, body stiff. Still dirty for their moment, but with her mind completely clear now, she watched him stand there trying to regain control in a heavy silence she hadn't felt between them in a while. Roman rubbed his face, rolling his large shoulders, rocking his head and even though she was shaken, something in Y/N's chest tightened following the imperceptible direction of his gaze across the room, where she had put the ulafala away.
Did he want to mark her to prove a point? To have full control in order to not go through what had happened with his family? It was that?
Mate…
She moved her eyes to his hand, the one would have grabbed to calm him, to bring him back to there with her, the one she always found on herself for any reason even the stupidest, the one Y/N had learned to want, but a second too long passed and her hesitation was enough for Roman to quickly settle down, deciding to walk out of the room without a word to leave her again.
***
Uncle Afa was a man bent by age and illness now. When him and his dad stopped traveling around the country, he opened a gym in a recreation center on the eastern outskirts of the city where family had settled. He only trained their people at that time, city folks didn't want to set foot among savages, but his uncle ignored comments like his dad, dedicating himself heart and soul to the pack. Roman remembered going into that place the last time when he was sixteen, probably with the twins, to put on muscles that had grown bigger on their own later and fill his stomach always asking for more. The gym was different now from then, it was larger, it had incorporated buildings next door and it wasn't dusty at all. There was a sign, clean walls full of photos and articles, in the central one there was also him, right at the top.
They had organized the meeting there to have a neutral place, a place that represented everyone, a symbol of the pack values as the Elders demanded. Yet sitting at the head of the table in the gym hall, with the attention of many of his blood just beyond the threshold, Roman kept undaunted watching that perfectly framed photo at the top of the wall. He was there to talk, ready to prove his worth even if it was thanks to him that that picture had a wall to still be on, if that gym existed after his uncle's family had spent almost everything to pay the national healthcare system, if the next generations would have a place to go or eat like he did. He acknowledged his family efforts, but all of them would have been still in that dusty past of mediocrity if Roman had not taken everything into his own hands knowing he was more than what the world saw.
- Don't try, don’t think about it, I wouldn't do it if I was in your place - he heard Jimmy warn, blocking the wise man from trying to come forward to break the silence of their meeting that had already started a few minutes ago without a word.
Roman heard him clear his throat anyway, but payed no attention until Jey, the only one sitting besides him and Y/N, decided to cut it short.
- I don't have any piece of paper with me – he announced, rubbing his hands on his legs.
Roman eyed him silently, slowly tilting his head and Jey shifted in his seat, face so serious as he settled himself better to speak.
He could broaden his shoulders and give himself as much tone as he wanted, but he would never be on his level, he would never be like him and it was evident. That meeting was ridiculous, disrespectful even.
- It's just between us for me. Families have nothing to do with it – he explained, quickly nodding to whoever was outside the door – Same for Solo, he's my brother... and Y/N, she's family too. He disappears with you though and won't set foot in the packland again as long as I'm here. – he concluded, pointing to the wise man who didn't even manage to mutter his disappointment before Roman burst out laughing.
He’s crazy and dumb.
His hoarse laugh echoed throughout the entire empty hall and he didn't bother to hide it or hold back, simply running a hand over his beard to regain control only after a while. With the entire family's eyes on him, he knocked the table with his hand, eyeing his cousin once more.
Jey. The little soldier Jey. Roman had tried to keep him close, to teach him how things worked, because he loved him and still he didn’t get it. Not a single thing. Anything at all.
He persisted with his speeches even a few days before the moment which Roman would have removed him from the family, putting everything on the table to play the good pup. He wanted the title, he wanted to chase him away, but he was willing to vouch for his family anyway, for Solo who had kicked him and even Y/N… as if there was only one scenario out of all the ones imaginable in which Roman would have left her if not as a deadman or it would have allowed him to realize the ideas he had in his dumb head. He still thought the problem was him or the advice the wise man had given him to stay on top, he thought he could keep his hands clean, not involve anyone and he didn't understand that the situation they were in already, was the exact reason for which he would never have survived in Roman’s place.
- You're wasting my time – he said, giving him an annoyed smile.
Jey didn't reply, cashing in without even a nod. He was good at cashing in, Roman acknowledged it, it was his talent, perhaps his only one, but it still wouldn't have been enough against him. He might be determined and willing to fight him one more time, but it would be no use. Roman had no limits and had learned over the years and blows what was needed to kept the role he had.
- Whoever will standing at the end decides, tha’s the deal, the stipulation. There's nothing else to say – he established, tone suddenly deadly heavy.
There was nothing he wasn't willing to do or lose to keep what was his.
He saw Jey nod, imitate him and stand up and in the silence of the room leave the table to join him. Face to face to each other, he stared at his reflection in his cousin's dark eyes, the ulafala still around his neck as it was in the photo of him on the wall and as it always would be. He squeezed Jey forearm and allowed that even if the bond between them no longer existed, their wolves shared a final breath.
Blood of my blood. Brother. Traitor.
When the air left his lungs again to fill them with the stale smell of the center, Roman let go without hesitation, Jey imitating him in a perfect mirror. However, was he who turned his back on his cousin this time to go away first, ignoring the wise man's sad look and those of the rest of the family outside waiting. Y/N who had been on the sidelines the entire time, unexpectedly joined him, her back straight and face betraying nothing as she took her place next to him. Roman didn't comment, there was nothing to say.
Two weeks and he would have control again. Only two weeks before moving on.
Tag squad: @sunnyfleur23 @racerchix21 @alyyaanna @reignsangel444 @romanreignsdefencesquad @romanstheory @claymorexpunisher @keybladeofsteel @msbigredmachine @nayys-world @gobbersworld @utika151209 @cumxxslutt @civildawn @romanmydaddy @triscillal @papireigns-05 @helensanders92 @darqchilddaydreamz @meggylynnloves @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @nicolewoo @joannasteez @reignsx @kianaleani @daguenoire @extra-11 @333creolelady @snowpanda18 @brattyfics @mzv11 @romanreignseater @spritelucozade @tribalchiefdaily @dreamsinfocus @vebner37 @depressedneedingrevenge @cyberdejos2 @mahi-wayy @jxtina-86 @harmshake @southerngirl41 @smile1318
53 notes · View notes
thefoolishone666 · 22 hours
Text
Kickin Chicken once said
@hiwelcometothemonstersancturary gave me the go to do this, which is mistake one for them, so here is my go at giving them what they encouraged while I pray it works well. And if not...well I at least tried.
* (Refering to Bobby) She is called Captain Heartbeat cause she will squeeze love out of your heart...and blood, but mostly love.
* (After speaking pr-bt for a 2 minutes) You ever forget your first language?
* Mods, take their swimming privileges away and put them in the pool.
* I would go evil, but I am going to follow dad's steps of being good...plus I saw they went shoe shopping so...
* What do you mean I can't seduce myself!?
* (Loud thud off Camera) PERCEPÇÃO DE PROFUNDIDADE!
* Our ship has a pool, an omelet bar, tons of rooms for you to sleep in, one would say that is a cruise, to which I say, fair, but have you seen the plank, cause I am about to get you real familiar with it.
* I heard some demons were touched starved. I got more than enough buckshot to help with that.
* Bubba, reading chat: "Kickin isn't the sharpest knife in the group," Well that is rude...
Kickin: I did eat packing peanuts when I was younger to be fair.
Everyone in room:
Kickin:...Wait is this new information for you?
Everyone: YES!?
* Wonder how many people come on to see me stream thinking "Oh hey, the voice actor for Kickin does streaming," or "Hey is this the official channel for the Smiling Critters show?" And they just come in on me saying something like, "I HAVE BUILT A TO SCALE JOLLY ROGER WITH POPSICLE STICKS!"
* Hey Theo, it's you! (Gets empty bottle thrown at head) Ow.
* White is the color of evil, cause nothing exists in it! Delight taught me that!
* I would cry, but I am too dehydrated to do such a thing. (Goes to drink some water, pauses, puts water bottle back down)
* It is always funny to see people react to my complete indifference to horrible stuff.
* I needed to find a way to get a gambling addiction, so I thought space could have the answer.
* (Seeing Bubba being affected by the blue screen) Bubba, I know you always wanted to become the one thing I love, but this is ridiculous!
* I am just saying revenge is amazing, ok? Yeah, you gain a tremendous amount of regret sometimes, but it is amazing.
* Cool motive bro, still murder!
* (In response to Angel giving them food) It hasn't been that long since I started streaming, it has only been...5 hours...
* This is my favorite bird. (Holds up middle finger before pointing to self) It is the chicken.
* (Wearing VR) The future is today!...I might need it adjusted though.
* Does dying take away time away from my vacation days?
* IT IS ALL A CONSPIRACY TO END ME! IF NO ONE EVER HEARS FROM ME AGAIN, IT IS CAUSE THEY KILLED ME, CHOPPED ME UP, AND FED ME TO THE WOLVES DANG IT!
* Fursuits are getting so good you can now subject yourself to your own form of trauma to fuse into it. Brought to you by Playtime.
* I have seen the internet and honestly, have seen worse. Which is saying alot.
* (Looks at Candy Cat in his lap before looking at camera)...Help. me.
* Theo: You finally did it! Did it help when you imagined it was me you were fighting?
Kickin: Not at all...worked when it was Dogday though.
Dogday: WHAT DID I DO?
Kickin: Hell if I know. As long as it works though.
* (Playing I Expect You to Die, dies trying to do an action pose)...(Starts singing the James Bond theme notes)
* (Reacting to "Unnecessary Feelings") Bubba, I was promised a crime drama, not a reminder that no one in this house knows how to feeling well, including us!
* I would boop you, but I don't want a pirate hook this early in my character development.
* William then preceded to commit several hours of joy, on at least an entire classroom of kids to learn why death does.
* You can have one hit Hoppy...Ah não, ela tem uma cadeira!
* Don't worry, I won't hurt you, I am just going to turn into a nuke to fall on you.
* (Stares at camera while winding music box)
* Chica, you wouldn't hurt your brother, would you? Or would you want me to be you and Foxy's kid, whichever makes you more merciful on me.
* I am here to break the stereotype that parrots can only be pirates and no other reasons at all.
* (Refering to how much money he has in game) $60!? I can finally afford 1 AAA video game! (Pulls up Balan Wonderworld steam page) I am going to buy this one guys!
* Kickin, coming into Crafty's stream: You mind if I borrow a picture.
Crafty: Uh sure...Why?
Kickin, taking one of the monsters: A reminder.
Crafty: A reminder of what?
Kickin: Of who in this family is an actual threat. (Leaves without elaboration)
* Don't make fun of me, I will cry will I beat you up.
* We don't even own a game cube, I just want to find a copy of Skies of Arcadia to display.
* When you get into a certain mindset for so long, it is so jarring to have to go into a different line of think, like you just suddenly ask, "Wait I don't have to ration this sandwich for the entire year?"
* WHY DID I LET THEO TALK ME INTO PLAYING THIS!?
* I am still surprised I recovered so well from all of that.
* What would the others do without me? Minus not having a heart attack everyday.
* I SURVIVED THAT FACTORY FOR OVER 10 YEARS, I WILL NOT LET A SLIDING PUZZLE DEFEAT ME!
* Have good night everyone! I don't remember how I end these...I will make you walk the plank! No, that is not it...
33 notes · View notes
reidfucker · 2 days
Text
mitski songs that make me think of reid + a specific lyric
spencer reid is very mitski. but these were the first to come to mind. i do not take criticism.
- working for the knife
honestly, the entire song reminds me of reid, but this in particular:
I always thought the choice was mine
And I was right, but I just chose wrong
I start the day lying and end with the truth
That I'm dying for the knife
- liquid smooth
I'm liquid smooth, come touch me, too
I'm at my highest peak, I'm ripe
About to fall
How I feel this river rushing through my veins
With nowhere else to go, it circles 'round
- class of 2013
Mom, would you wash my back?
This once, and then we can forget
And I'll leave what I'm chasing
For the other girls to pursue
Mom, am I still young?
Can I dream for a few months more?
- i don't smoke
Just don't leave me alone
Wondering where you are
I am stronger than you give me
Credit for
If your hands need to break
More than trinkets in your room
You can lean on my arm
As you break my heart
- abbey
again, the entire song is very reid, but:
I am something
I have been something
I was born something
What could I be?
There is a light that I can see
But only, it seems, when there's darkness in me
There is a dream that I sometimes see
That only appears in the dark of sleep
- i bet on losing dogs
Will you let me, baby, lose
On losing dogs
I know they're losing and I'll pay for my place
By the ring
Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down
I wanna feel it
I bet on losing dogs
I always want you when I'm finally fine
- the deal
Then of course, nothing replied, nothing speaks to you in the night
And I walked my way home, there was no one in sight
Save a bird perched upon a streetlight, watchin' me
So, I stopped and let it watch 'til I found that it said
"Now I'm taken, the night has me
You won't hear me singin'
You're a cage without me
Your pain is eased, but you'll never be free for
Now I'm taken, the night has me"
- fireworks
this is perhaps one of the reid-est. here's the particular lyric:
One morning this sadness will fossilize
And I will forget how to cry
I'll keep going to work and you won't see a change
Save perhaps a slight gray in my eye
I will go jogging routinely
Calmly and rhythmically run
And when I find that a knife's sticking out of my side
I'll pull it out without questioning why
- i don't like my mind
again, the entire song is reid, but this is my pick:
I don't like my mind, I don't like being left alone in a room
With all its opinions about the things that I've done
So, yeah, I blast music loud, and I work myself to the bone
And on an inconvenient Christmas, I eat a cake
- first love / late spring
very cliché, but i HAD to include it! here:
And I was so young when I behaved 25
Yet now, I find I've grown into a tall child
And I don't wanna go home
Let me walk to the top of the big night sky
- there's nothing left for you
You could touch fire
You could fly
It was your right
It was your life
And then it passed
To someone new
It'll keep passin' on
Long after you
- nobody
And I don't want your pity
I just want somebody near me
Guess I'm a coward
I just want to feel alright
- because dreaming costs money, my dear
I once lived in the sea
Bring me to your ear, you can hear
The tide where I used to be
Though now I'm but a shell
- a pearl
Sorry, I don't want your touch
It's not that I don't want you
Sorry, I can't take your touch
It's just that I fell in love with a war
Nobody told me it ended
And it left a pearl in my head
And I roll it around every night
Just to watch it glow
Every night, baby, that's where I go
- real men
Real men keep cool in the face of a fire
Go down with the ship
And real men don't eat
'Cause they're above that, damn it
Oh, I'm gonna be a real man
- crack baby
It's been a long, hard 20 year summer vacation
Both these 20 years tryna fill the void
Crack baby, you don't know what you want
But you know that you had it once
And you know that you want it back
Crack baby, you don't know what you want
But you know that you're needing it
And you know that you need it bad
50 notes · View notes
thistlefaethfort · 1 day
Text
YELLOW
— read this first or this might not make sense!
— ao3 link!
If Sandra Lynn had her way, the Solesian Rangers work schedule would be a little more focused on rest and recovery, but she couldn’t really complain about the leniency the organisation had for people with families at home. No one had been more quick to sign off on her time off requests than her manager, she knew that Sandra Lynn was competent enough to catch up as quickly as needed. In a few months, she thought she would probably offer her the role herself. Today though, she finished up at lunch time and arrived home, shoulders weary with the weight of yellow paint cans.
It was a buttery, blonde colour that made her itchy to look at. It was the colour of Baxter’s feathers when they were downy and he was so young that sometimes she let him sleep at the foot of her bed, even on the nights Fig had crawled in between her and Gilear. It was something warm that got sharp late in the day, when the sun settled on it low in the sky late in the afternoon. Like milk poured in a sweet honey tea. It was golden and there were enough cans of it left on the shelf that Sandra Lynn thought people probably underestimated it. She thought it would make the chapel look like a bedroom.
It took her a handful of hours to painstakingly move everything away from the walls: the bedframe, the posters, the duffel bag that she point blank refused to look at for longer than a few seconds at a time — just in case. Once everything was piled up in the centre and covered with a tarp, Sandra Lynn put on an old shirt that was probably not hers but had ended up in her closet anyway and pulled out her brushes from under the sink. She washed the walls, scrubbed at them until dust stopped falling from the stone, and stared at the stained glass for long enough that the sun shifted to glare back through the angel's golden halo.
Then the door opened further across the house and she grinned to herself; it was easier now, to breathe knowing all the kids were safe under her roof, because she knew they were taking care of each other. There was no reason to hover around all the places her adopted and not yet adopted kids might be, because she was trying to trust that they would come to her if they needed a mom, or an adult, or a squirrel killer. Sandra Lynn could try to trust them for that. Fabian yelled something and Jawbone howled in a way that usually meant hang tight. Aelwyn spoke and there was a higher pitched response in that oh so similar Fallinel accent that was getting fainter as the two disappeared up the stairs. Fig cackled and there was the sound of at least four footsteps pounding across the house to where she knew her girl kept her guitar. She was distracted, not noticing when her final kid reappearing home for the day emerged through the door to her room.
It took a lot of effort not to jump and drop the paintbrush when Kristen’s voice, muffled by what looked like a fistful of popcorn that sprayed halfway across the room when she said ‘thandragh thlinn?’ Maybe time had gotten away from her, because she hadn’t expected for the girl to see the room until it was done, and her mind had already sprinted away to try and figure out if any beds were going spare tonight or if they should set up the den sleepover style. Pointedly, she didn’t think about how rare a night was where she didn’t hear light footsteps pattering about the house in the early hours. When everyone was home, there were ten kids with their own bedrooms (except for Adaine who let her sister share), and all of them were traumatised. They were good to each other though, and on the nights she thought the awake one might need a hug or a mug of tea, there was always a second teenager perched next to them; eyes blurry with sleep but risen for their friend anyway. She must have been quiet too long, because the voice started again, clear now, ‘are you painting in here? Did I forget you were doing this? I’m sorry —’ Sandra Lynn cut her off ‘ — I was wrong. Kristen I was wrong to put you in here and now the house is filling up and I don’t have a different room for you, so I picked up some paint,’ her fingers spasmed. It had been a bad, thoughtless call at the time. Kristen had grown up groomed and hurt by a church and she had to be reminded of every time she went to bed or woke up, and now she was sleeping in it alone, without even a God to pray goodnight to. She picked up one of the cans and showed her the colour, a glob hitting the tarp she had laid down over the old wood floors, and tried for a smile, ‘yellow, but not as bright as your tracksuit.’
Much to Sandra Lynn’s horror (because her shirt was covered in paint and her kid was wearing something other then that tracksuit for once and she would do anything to encourage her to wear other things as often as possible), Kristen’s eyes started to shine and her shoulders sagged. The woman dodged drips of paint and made her way to the girl, squeezing her shoulder hard enough to drag her back to earth. Her voice cracked and suddenly Sandra Lynn didn’t know whether or not she was going to cry herself, but she did laugh, just a little and quietly. ‘You got some muscle going kid, you sure you don’t wanna join the ranger track?’ She asked, mostly joking but not all the way. All of her Bad Kids were going to excel at whatever it was they chose to do in the end, but she hoped they thrived as a group first, she hoped they did whatever they wanted and it never hurt. Her smile grew a little bittersweet and she hoped Kristen didn’t catch it as she reminded herself that that was never how an adventurer’s story ended.
She offered out a paintbrush, ‘you gonna help me finish these last few walls or are you crashing at someone else’s room tonight?’
24 notes · View notes
Text
When You're Hurting I'll Fix What I Can - 2,041 Words
A Tech-heavy fic where Omega is sick!
I always struggle writing Tech so please be kind, I've done my best...
This fic is part of my 'Kaminoans are Assholes' collection that can all be found on my masterlist. It's set in a post-Season 1 AU where Crosshair left Kamino with the Bad Batch.
As always, the link to my AO3 is here and the link to my masterlist on tumblr is here. Enjoy!
--------
At first it had just been a sniffle, hardly noticeable to anyone… except Hunter with his heightened senses. He raised an eyebrow as Omega wiped her runny nose on her sleeve, but said nothing of it; if she wanted their help, she’d say something to somebody. All the same, he made a point of keeping an eye on her as she went about her usual day.
As the day wore on, it became clearer that something wasn’t right. Omega’s sniffles and sneezes graduated to a rough cough that rattled through her. Echo had noticed now and handed the girl a tissue when she couldn’t stop sneezing. It had been a quiet day for the batch seeing as they were in hyperspace, and before long everyone was aware of the sniffles and coughs that were plaguing their youngest (oldest?) member.
The day drew to a close and now even Tech (who had been busy with repairing AZI all day) had noticed that the youngest member of their group was unwell. She hadn’t wanted to eat much that evening, choking back half a ration bar at Hunter’s pleas. Now she was sat in the arms of her father figure, drifting between a light sleep and picking at a loose thread on her tunic.
“How’re you feeling, ‘Megs?” Hunter asked as he gently carted his fingers through her hair, only to realise that she was fast asleep. He frowned with concern as he felt how warm her forehead was and glanced up at Crosshair, who also looked mildly concerned (which was a rare facial expression for him).
“She’s probably tired, Hunter,” the youngest of the group stated. ‘She’s been running around like an excitable loth cat for the past two days.”
Admitting that Crosshair was probably right, the sergeant carefully lifted Omega and carried her to her bunk. Tucking her in with Lula and Trooper, he pressed a light kiss to her warm brow before leaving her be and trying to get some rest himself.
——
When Tech woke up for his shift on watch, he had been expecting it to be uneventful. AZI was already in the cockpit waiting for him to continue his repairs… Tech was bound to get more done seeing as his brothers and sister were all asleep.
It wasn’t until he was an hour into his shift, and that was when he heard movement coming from the cabin. Assuming it was one of his siblings going to the fresher, he didn’t think much of it; his suspicions were only confirmed when he heard the sound of the ‘fresher door open.
Only the fresher door didn’t hiss shut again, and the sound of someone retching soon filled his ears. Without thinking, Tech let out of his chair and barrelled through the door into the cabin. Hunter, for once, had not woken up (perhaps a true indicator of how worn out he was after their most recent mission), and Tech could make out the silhouettes of Crosshair and Echo resting on a bunk and a chair respectively. Wrecker could be heard snoring, which meant that it could only be one other person in the ‘fresher. 
“Omega?” Tech poked his head around the doorframe, only to be met with a saddening sight. The little girl was hunched over the vac tube, retching as she lost the little she’d eaten earlier. 
“Tech?” came a pathetic sounding voice as she paused and caught her breath. “I don’t feel so good.” Piecing together what he had heard and seen throughout the say, Tech wasted no time crouching next to his sister and scanning her. He had a rough idea of what the problem was, but it was best make sure.
Omega whimpered and shivered on the floor as her brother rubbed soothing circles on her back in the same way he’d seen Hunter do before. 
“As I suspected,” he muttered to himself as the holo pad bleeped. “Miss Omega, it would appear that you are suffering from a fever, which is what has made you…” he trailed off as she surged forward and vomited once more. 
“Please make it stop!” she cried as she sat back once more. Tech nodded and darted out of the ‘fresher only to appear moments later brandishing a medkit, a canteen and a blanket.
Once Omega was wrapped in the blanket and clutching the canteen in her shaking hands, Tech set about sorting through the medkit for something, anything that would be useful. Given that clones were designed with heightened immune systems, medicine for illness was not something the batch had needed, but Tech had made sure to stock up on some of the basics. He guessed that because Omega was genetically unaltered she would not have that same protection they did. That added to the fact that she wouldn’t have been exposed to any germs until leaving Kamino… let’s just say they were lucky she hadn’t been ill yet.
Finally finding what he was looking for, Tech produced a small carton and a bottle containing a very pink looking liquid. Omega eyed them, not sure what to make of it all. 
“This is a medicine that will help to bring your fever down and soothe the cough you have,” Tech started, raising the bottle to her. “And this,” he gestured to the carton. “Is a drink that will help to re-hydrate you more sufficiently than water will.”
The little girl nodded, trusting her brother as he measured out a cap of the pink liquid from the bottle and handed it to her. Not stopping to think, she knocked it back like you would a shot, pulling a face at the taste but managing to swallow it. Tech smiled sympathetically but busied himself with shaking the canon and piercing it with a straw. Giving that to his sister as will, he sat back content that with the medicine she would likely feel a lot better in the morning. 
… that was until she was sick once more, shuddering as whatever she’d just taken left her system.
When she was done, she slumped against the wall one more. Tech frowned. 
“I’ll admit,” he stated as he repositioned his goggles. “That was not quite the reaction I was expecting.” The little girl sat in front of him shuddered and wrapped the blanket further around herself. “No matter,” he continued as he delved back into the medkit. “We can simply administer the medication and fluids through an intravenous drip…”
He had barely finished the sentence when Omega inhaled sharply and started trembling even more. 
“No thank you,” she stammered out, shuffling so she was wedged between the vac tube and the wall. Her eyes were wide with fear, but unfocused, the fever having truly taken hold. Tech raised an eyebrow, but simply put it down to a well-known childhood fear of injections plenty of cadets experienced. “There is nothing to be worried about, Miss Omega,” he said. “It is the same medication, and you will feel better with it.”
His reasoning was to no avail as Omega’s bottom lip started trembling as her breathing quickened. “No,” she repeated, sounding more alarmed than before and looking a whole lot smaller. “Please no,” she pleaded with her brother, though Tech wasn’t sure it was him she was seeing in her fever-induced delirium. “I’m sorry I was sick. I’ll be good, but please! No needles.”
Her breathing had quickened to the point that she had started hyperventilating and Tech frowned, concerned. No needles? Why…
Suddenly it all slotted into place. Tech found himself cursing the Kaminoans, but pushed all of that to one side so that he could focus on his little sister. Leaning out of the ‘fresher, he threw a small roll of gauze at Hunter’s face to wake him up; this was not going to be a one-man job.
The gauze had the desired affect because moments later a sleep-deprived Hunter stumbled into the ‘fresher. He had been about to ask Tech what the kriff had possessed him to mess about in the middle of the night when his eyes settled on his brother gently encouraging Omega to take deep breaths. Instead of interrupting he glanced at the scene around them; the room smelt vaguely of vomit, he assumed Omega’s and he spotted various pieces of medical equipment scattered around, including the means to set up an IV.
Putting the pieces together, the sergeant crouched down next to Tech, who shuffled out of the way to make room for Omega’s father figure. He was having a better time soothing the child, and for the first time in a while Tech found himself feeling a little inadequate. He had just wanted to help his little sister. Curse those Kaminoans- of course they wouldn’t just leave Omega alone, they had to experiment on her just as they had done with the rest of the batch.
“I don’t w-want…” came the gasping voice of Omega as Hunter nodded understandingly and smoothed her hair back. She was hot to the touch, a true sign of the affects of the fever. “No tests,” she continued to garble as she hurried her face in Hunter’s neck; a look aof devastated knowing washed over the sergeant’s face.
“No tests,’ he replied in a hushed tone. He glanced up at Tech, who was still trying to look busy and give the pair some space. The pair’s eyes met and the look on his brother’s face told him what he needed to know.
Omega was ill. She needed the drip.
Tech had turned his back, trying to act as invisible as possible when someone saying his name snapped him out of his thoughts and back into reality. Omega was now sat curled up in Hunter’s lap and clinging to his blacks, but her breathing has thankfully evened out to a more calming rate.
“Pardon?” he asked, a little flustered. Hunter rolled his eyes.
“I was just saying,” he started. “That you were only trying to help Omega. That you would never hurt her.” 
“I know that really,” the girl in his arms cried, still upset. “I… just really don’t like needles… the Kaminoans would never tell me what they were doing and the stuff they put in me made me sick.”
If Tech hadn’t already been angry, he definitely would have been now. Taking a deep breath, an idea popped into his head.
“Would it help if I told you exactly what I was doing as I’m doing it?” he asked cautiously, not wanting to scare her. After a moments consideration, Omega gave a small nod and Hunter helped her to shift into a more upright position. Tech prepared his equipment, explaining exactly what he was doing at every step of the way. Omega had teared up and buried her face into Hunter’s chest as the drip was set up, the older clone whispering soothing words into her hair.
“All done!” Tech declared as he tied off a small bandage that would stop the line from catching on anything. Omega removed her face from where it had been hiding and wrinkled her nose in disgust at the sight of her arm. “You did well, Miss Omega,” Tech continued as he packed his equipment away. “All that’s left for you to do now is rest. You will feel better soon.” He stood and moved out of the ‘fresher, giving Hunter the space to carry the little girl out. He placed her on his bunk and disappeared to retrieve Lula and Trooper from the gunners’ mount. Tech was about to retreat back to the cockpit when a pair of small arms wrapped around his waist.
“Thank you,” Omega mumbled as she drew back from the hug and settled on Hunter’s bunk once more. All Tech could do was smile and nod as he tried to summon the right thing to say.
“Any time, vod’ika,” he eventually replied with a final nod before he disappeared into the cockpit. He gazed into hyperspace as his shift wore on, thanking his lucky stars (not that he believed in luck) that they had managed to get to Omega when they did. They couldn’t scare away all of her demons, but they sure as hell would try their best to do so.
23 notes · View notes
ivantillz · 12 hours
Text
find me;
ivantill, 4.1k, inspired by this post by @ivanttakethis Ivan returns - alive - after round 6 despite all odds but something is different about him. Wrong. Till is on his own to figure out what happened and how to fix it.
Till didn’t know how to describe what he was feeling – that wasn’t quite true; he had an idea. He was numb. He thought he’d been numb, before, but after watching Ivan die… now he knew what true numbness felt like.
He might not have expressed it enough, looking back. Just how much he appreciated having Ivan around. Maybe, he hadn’t even known yet how terribly empty this place would feel without him.
And now he would never get to tell him. He would never even get to talk to him again.
It was over, and frankly Till was too tired to keep fighting. It didn’t matter. His next opponent was Luka and he wasn’t naive enough to think he could win.
Strangely, he felt an odd sense of calm alongside the numbness. He was ready to go. He was ready to see if the aliens were truthful about this one thing, at least. Was there much of anything after death or just eternal darkness?
Nothingness?
Maybe that really would be better. To feel nothing. Be nothing.
Till heard a familiar bell; it was dinnertime. He curled up tighter, hugging his knees and closed his eyes. He wasn’t hungry.
-
He wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep when he was finally jostled awake. He blinked, once, twice, eyes having a hard time adjusting to the brightness of day.
When he lifted his head, he was met with the face of a girl about his age, dark hair and dark eyes. Unassuming. He was pretty sure he’d seen her around once or twice. They’d never talked.
“I thought you might, um.” She was wringing her hands nervously. Till shouldn’t care. He had given up caring about anything, especially whatever she was struggling to tell him.
He sniffed. “If you have nothing to say, please go away.” He just wanted to go back to sleep. Sleeping was the only time he didn’t feel completely hopeless. At least in his dreams, he wasn’t alone.
“I know we haven’t talked much or anything,” she continued, speaking just a little too fast, “but I thought you might want to see this. You, um. You were close to him, right?”
She didn’t say his name. She didn’t need to.
Till didn’t even bother answering. He just blankly stared at her. Apparently, that was answer enough.
“You really need come see this,” she said again, this time with more urgency.
Till frowned. He should just ignore her. He didn’t want to entertain whatever game she was playing.
“I’m serious,” she was fidgeting again. “Please.”
He could’ve ignored her, but he didn’t. Even now, he supposed his curiosity had a way of getting the better of him. Standing up, he winced when his back cracked and his knees popped.
She smartly didn’t say anything and just led the way. Till followed slowly. It was only when she stopped abruptly that he finally looked up, barely avoiding running into her.
“Hey,” he barked. “Watch it!”
She stepped to the side, opening her mouth, probably to retort, but he couldn’t hear anything over the rushing in his ears.
There, in the middle of a small crowd, was Ivan.
He didn’t even know what to focus on first – his hair, brushed back with a small clip on the side to keep it out of his face. His clothes, pure white and pristine. The smile on his face, warm and sweet.
But none of that mattered, really. Nothing mattered but the fact Ivan was here.
Ivan was alive.
Till didn’t even wait to see if the girl had anything else to say; he rushed past her and joined the crowd, pushing people out of the way. Some of them glared at him, some yelled, but he didn’t care.
He needed to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. He needed to know Ivan was real.
When he finally reached the center of the crowd, he let out a shaky breath and just stared. Ivan was really there, standing right in front of him with a confused tilt of his head and an unnervingly polite smile.
Then Ivan opened his mouth and asked possibly the dumbest question he could:
“Are you okay?”
Till felt anger rush to the forefront of his many conflicting emotions, red hot and burning. “Am I okay?” he repeated in disbelief, and suddenly grabbed the collar of Ivan’s shirt. Ivan blinked, but didn’t move to stop him. “You seriously think you can do all that and then just ask me if I’m okay?”
Ivan stared back at him with a familiar blankness before suddenly he was smiling, soft and kind, “I’m sorry,” he said, and Till couldn’t remember ever hearing him apologize, before. “I don’t know what I did but I assure you I didn’t meant to upset you.”
He reached up and gently touched Till’s hands, still clutching his collar.
“If you would let go, maybe we can go somewhere private and talk.”
Till blinked, once, twice, before suddenly letting go like he’d been burned, his hands curling into fists at his sides “You don’t know what you did?” he repeated, slowly, icily. “Is this some kind of sick joke to you?”
His heart was thumping in his chest too fast, too hard. He felt like he was struggling to breathe.
“I really don’t,” Ivan replied softly. It was unnerving, hearing him talk like that. “But I’m assuming I did something to hurt you, and if I did, I really am sorry.”
Till bristled, fists tightening. He could feel something wet in both palms of his hands; blood, maybe, from where his nails were digging too deep.
“You really don’t remember?” he asked, terrified of the answer.
Ivan smiled again; it was too sweet. “I’m afraid I don’t.”
“Okay.” Till swallowed, forced his hands to relax at his sides. “Okay.”
Without waiting for any kind of response, he turned and ran.
-
For a while, he isolated himself and just tried to figure out what had happened. Maybe some kind of head trauma? That would’ve explained the memory loss, maybe, but Ivan was acting like a completely different person.
Before he had seen Ivan again - before he had gotten confirmation he was still alive - he had gone over all the things he wanted to say to him, good and bad.
Now he couldn’t bring himself to say any of it. He avoided even crossing paths with Ivan for the first few days but then he realized something:
Ivan was avoiding him too. Not on purpose, it seemed, but somehow that realization was even more terrifying.
He used to do anything to get his attention - steal his things just to return them, start trivial fights, ask him to teach him about music (he never paid attention). Now he barely looked in his direction most days, too distracted with the handful of other contestants who were seemingly glued to his side.
Before, he hadn’t had any friends. Not for a lacking of trying - many people wanted to be friends with Ivan - but he had never even bothered trying to act interested.
Eventually they had stopped trying, of course, but now that had changed. It was like people could smell he was different, and they were right.
To make matters even worse, Till had overheard a few of Ivan’s conversations with some of the contestants. He wasn’t sure if Ivan meant it but when they would flirt, fluttering their eyelashes, pouting a little, Ivan would seem interested, smiling coyly.
That was possibly the most obvious sign something was very, very wrong.
Ivan didn’t do friends - not beyond what championship he had been able to forge with Till and Mizi, possibly Sua (before) - but he certainly hadn’t flirted with others.
He hadn’t even flirted with Till prior to their round, despite seemingly having some kind of feelings for him. Or maybe he had, but in unconventional ways. He certainly hadn’t been obvious about it.
(He wanted to talk to him - the real Ivan - understand what he really felt, but now he couldn’t. The Ivan of now apparently felt nothing for him.)
Could a head trauma do that? Till wasn’t educated in that kind of stuff; some of the others were, the way he was interested in music, but even they hadn’t had many chances to explore it with their limited resources. So when he asked, they simply apologized and said, honestly, “I don’t know. Maybe?”
He was grateful for the honesty but it had brought him no closer to figuring out what was going on, or how to reverse it (if that was even possible. He really hoped it was possible.)
-
Till finally reached a breaking point after Ivan won round 7.
(Since nobody had expected him to survive, and it was unprecedented, they had decided to add two new contestants to the lineup; one to go up against Till and one to go up against Ivan, extending the season to 9 rounds overall. The finale would make history as - for the first time - three contestants would go up against each other at once. Till really didn’t care about dissecting what that meant for them, in the future.)
Obviously he was glad he had won - he had been watching the broadcast with bated breath - but he had won by singing a new piece. Till felt an odd sense of comfort, hearing his voice again (maybe the only thing that hadn’t changed) but then he had started to pay closer attention to the lyrics.
And it was wrong. All wrong. Since when did Ivan sing of birds flying through clear blue skies, free and fearless? Of requited love, sweet and true?
It might’ve been his voice, but those weren’t his words. Something was wrong. Ivan was here, but he wasn’t.
Then finally Till made a realization. It was a working theory, of course, but at least it was a start.
-
It started with Till watching Ivan even closer (something he didn’t think was possible). He started to slowly notice other details that were wrong.
Just little things. Things that might not have been noticeable to other people. Like the way Ivan’s laugh was a little off (slightly too high-pitched compared to before). The way his eyes were brighter, now, but somehow lacking life at the same time.
Till realized he reminded him of a doll. Too happy. Too polite. Even Mizi - sweet as she was - hadn’t been nearly as perfect. It was unnerving.
Once - still testing his theory - Till had even spilled his soup on him during dinnertime. Just to see. Ivan had barely spared him a glance, a polite smile. “Don’t worry,” he had said before disappearing to change.
He returned with another white shirt. Laughed with everyone else at a joke that was objectively not funny.
That was when Till was certain he was on the right track. They had done something to him. It wasn’t surprising, in a way. They had experimented on Till many times before, after all, but this was different. This was Ivan; the pride and joy of the season.
It was risky to mess with him, but he supposed if it was that or his death, the aliens had weighed their options and decided this was the better outcome.
And truthfully, it had worked out for them. Ivan had gotten even more support than ever after his latest round; brands were lining up to work with him, he had a new interview being published almost every week.
But Till wouldn’t be so easily satisfied. Even if this Ivan was easier to deal with. Even if he smiled more. Till missed tussling and rolling around in the grass with him. He even missed the times Ivan would steal his things just to return them a few days later.
He missed Ivan, his friend, and possibly something more, one day. He still wasn’t sure; wouldn’t be until they could actually talk about what had happened on that stage. But either way, he would find a way to snap him out of this.
-
Easier said than done. Now it was hard to even get a moment alone with Ivan, seeing as he was always surrounded by people.
Finally Till did what he had to do (and he wasn’t exactly proud of it): he pretended to be hurt, and Ivan - this new version of him, at least - couldn’t resist the bait. He helped him to his room and stood there, seemingly unsure of what to do next. Till pretended to massage his ankle.
“Thank you,” he said, and a part of him meant it.
Whether or not this was the Ivan he knew, he still didn’t like him looking so lost. It was jarring, compared to the easy confidence he usually carried himself with. Before and after. The confidence had always been the one consistent thing across both versions of him, although it had certainly manifested in different ways.
Ivan smiled then, looking more sure of himself. That smile - bright and full as it was - still didn’t manage to quite reach his eyes. Till knew this was it. He had to take this chance and find out a way to reverse whatever they had done to him, if that was possible.
(It had to be; he didn’t know what he would do if it wasn’t.)
For now he just had to keep him here with him, separated from all the others.
“Can you sit with me for a second?” he asked, and Ivan didn’t even hesitate before joining him on the bed that felt more like a concrete slab with a blanket over it.
He even sat politely, hands together in his lap, back a perfectly straight line. He was still smiling. “Did you need anything else?”
Till hesitated for a moment, mentally scrambling for an excuse to keep him here longer. “My ankle really hurts,” he blurted, “even worse than before.” He paused, biting his lip, still thinking. Then he thought of it, the perfect excuse. “Could you maybe look at it?”
“I’m not sure I’d be able to tell you anything,” he replied despite already moving to the floor. Till watched, heart pounding in his chest, as Ivan gently touched his ankle, lifting his foot a little.
He should’ve prepared a bit more, maybe, because his ankle was perfectly fine. No bruising, no cuts. Still he winced, frowning. “It’s sore,” he said, pointing to a random spot. “Around here.”
Ivan nodded, softly running his fingers over the spot with pursed lips.
Till knew he should’ve been thinking more, formulating a plan. He couldn’t just keep Ivan here forever looking at his ankle, and he was no closer to finding out what the aliens had done (or how to reverse it.)
Until he saw it:
A ring, perfectly discreet, around Ivan’s finger. It wasn’t quite silver but an odd hue that nearly blended into the color of Ivan’s skin. Like he - or someone - hadn’t wanted others to notice it.
Till felt his heart beating a little faster. There was no way, right? Surely it couldn’t have been that easy. All these weeks - all this pain - had been caused by a ring?
“Your finger,” he said, voice thick. He hoped Ivan wouldn’t notice; he didn’t, seemingly, still focused on Till’s ankle. “Where did you get that ring?”
Now Ivan looked up. For a long moment he just stared before finally he blinked, once, glancing down at the ring around his finger. “It was a gift.”
Till nodded slowly. “From who?”
“I - ” Ivan stopped, eyebrows furrowing as he idly spun the ring around his finger. “I don’t quite remember, it seems.”
Till knew this was it. He was onto something. He slid off the bed to join Ivan on the floor; Ivan gasped, just a quick breath, gesturing at his ankle with eyes full of concern. Till didn’t know if it was real - his concern. He didn’t know what was real anymore but in this moment he liked to believe it was, as unfounded as it was.
“I’m okay,” he assured him. “I just, can I - ” How did he ask for this, he wasn’t really sure. Finally he gave up and just grabbed Ivan’s hand.
Ivan let him, even as his eyebrows furrowed again, watching as Till gently turned his hand in a few different directions. It was a simple ring, no stone or decorations. It was loose enough for Ivan to spin it around his finger with ease, but too tight to fall off by any accident.
“Do you mind…?” he asked as his fingertips brushed the ring. Surely it wouldn’t be so easy, but it was still worth a try.
Ivan blinked; there was something lost in his gaze, almost like he wasn’t quite seeing. Then suddenly he was pushing Till back with enough force he yelped as his back hit the edge of his bed.
“Don’t touch me,” he said, icily, as he stood and turned toward the door.
It was all wrong. The Ivan that had been, here, for the last few weeks would’ve never reacted like that. So aggressive and cold. That was when Till knew there was no other option: that ring had to go. Whatever was going on, it was clear the aliens had put in some kind of safety measure to keep Ivan from letting anyone take it off.
Whether or not it would magically fix everything was unimportant. It was a start, at least. Till scrambled back to his feet and grabbed Ivan by the arm, yanking as hard as he could. Ivan stumbled, for just a second, but it was enough for Till to get the upper hand he needed.
He spun them around and pushed Ivan onto his bed; he fell with a huff. Before he could fully recover, Till was on top of him, pinning his arms down by his sides. Ivan had always been stronger than him but thankfully with the element of surprise and whatever adrenaline was coursing through his veins it seemed he had managed to subdue him.
“What are you doing?” Ivan asked; his voice no longer had that icy coolness to it, but he was obviously still not happy.
Till squeezed his wrists, hard. “I know you don’t remember me or - or what happened,” flashes of that night on the stage, painful and sharp, played through his mind, “but I know you cared about me and I don’t know if you knew at the time how much I cared about you too.”
Ivan just stared up at him, unblinking. Till took a shaky breath.
“I wish I had let you known, before that night.” His eyes burned but he forced the urge to cry back, swallowing thickly. He needed to focus right now. “Maybe if you had, you wouldn’t have done what you did. Maybe we could’ve found another way. You had always been the smartest out of any of us. If anyone could’ve done it, it was you.”
Ivan finally blinked, his mouth pressing together into a thin line. Till couldn’t spend too long wondering if any of this was getting through to him. He just had to keep talking.
“Instead you felt like the only way to save me was through sacrificing yourself, and - ” It was too late; his eyes watered, blurring his vision just a little. “I was so mad at you, at first. I was so angry I was sick. You - ” Till paused, shaking his head, hard. “You had no right to do that. To decide for me what I needed.”
He paused, took another shaky breath. Ivan still didn’t say anything.
“I missed you so much, Ivan,” his voice wavered with each word. “I thought I was never going to see you again and I was so numb. I realized I cared about you, more than I ever realized and - and you weren’t even here for me when I needed you the most.” He sniffed, squeezing his wrists even tighter. “You selfish asshole.”
Finally Ivan opened his mouth to say something. His eyes looked shiny, glistening. Till didn’t even bother waiting to see what he had to say; he surged down and slammed their lips together so hard their teeth clanked together, sending a jolt of pain through his jaw.
Ivan made a small noise in the back of his throat. Surprise, maybe. Till used the moment to let go of his wrist and feel for the ring; as soon as he found it, he yanked it off without hesitation and threw it across the room. He heard the distant clattering and then Ivan was kissing him back with fervor, taking his face in his hands.
Till felt something warm in his chest - hope - as he shifted, deepening the kiss. He was almost afraid to stop, afraid that he’d been wrong and nothing would be changed. Afraid he was kissing a stranger, not the Ivan he knew and desperately needed back.
But finally he had no choice; he pulled back and stared down at Ivan, eyes half-lidded, mouth wet and swollen from the aggressive kissing.
“Please,” he whispered. “Please say something.”
Ivan blinked, some clarity seeming to return to his eyes. His tongue poked out, licking at the corner of his mouth where there was just the smallest spot of blood, probably Till’s fault.
“I’m sorry,” he said, and for a moment Till felt the world stop. He had failed. But then Ivan’s hands were at his sides, holding on gently. “I never even considered how you would feel.”
Till sniffed, waited. Didn’t want to get his hopes up too much.
“I can’t even lie and say I thought you wouldn’t care.” Ivan smiled, a small thing. It was nothing like the fake smiles he’d been giving for weeks now. “Because you’re you, and you care more than you let on.”
He didn’t even realize he was shaking until Ivan smoothed a hand down his back, trying to calm him.
“But one of us had to die up there, didn’t they?” Ivan’s hand stopped, low on his back. He let out a soft sigh. “And it couldn’t be you. I couldn’t let that happen.”
Till swallowed around the lump in his throat, almost too big to breathe. “You kissed me,” he said. It wasn’t an accusation, just a quiet acknowledgment. “You asshole, you kissed me and then left me here to try and pick up all the pieces by myself.”
He wasn’t really angry.
“And you just kissed me,” Ivan said, slowly. “Good way to distract me, hm?”
Till couldn’t do this. He couldn’t let things go unsaid between them, not after everything. What if something happened again? What if this was his only chance?
“I did use it as a distraction,” he admitted, but then, “I’d been thinking about it for a while.”
Ivan’s hand twitched against his back. “You had this plan for that long?”
“No,” Till answered truthfully before leaning down a little; their noses were only a couple inches from touching. “You should’ve told me, Ivan. Given me a chance to decide what I really wanted.”
Ivan stared back at him, unwavering. “You wouldn’t have chosen me,” he said with a confidence that sent a pang through Till’s chest, and maybe he would’ve been right, once upon a time, but things were so different now.
They could never go back and change the past, as much as Till wanted to, but the least he could do was be honest with himself moving forward.
“Maybe not back then,” he admitted, because he wasn’t fond of lying and it felt important to be honest here. “But I’m not the person I was back then, am I?”
Ivan gazed up at him with an intensity that made him shiver. “No,” he agreed. “I suppose you aren’t. Because you never would’ve gone through this much trouble for me, before.”
“I always cared about you, Ivan,” he replied, softening his voice, needing him to hear it. “I think I just didn’t know how much.”
Ivan opened his mouth, closed it. Till didn’t know what he was going to say, but that was okay. He wouldn’t push it. They had a lot to figure out over the next few hours - like how they were going to hide Ivan breaking through whatever the aliens had done to him, or if they even could hide it because Till didn’t want to risk putting the ring back on, or even where they stood as friends or more - but for now none of that mattered.
Ivan was back, he was here with him, gazing up at him like he used to, when he used to think Till was never looking (and he wasn’t, most of the time, but not all the time.) And Till knew he would do anything to ensure he never left him again.
22 notes · View notes
f4iry-bell · 2 days
Text
stained shirts and two seats for one [Grayson hawthorne x reader] | part 5
finally!!😭 also last part(?)
It took everything in Grayson to stay away from her but he couldn't take it any longer. He has to see her and apologise again, he would beg until she forgives him. He knocked on her apartment door and mentally revised his monologue— that if she is ready to listen without interrupting. His mentally prepared monologue vanished once she opened the door in her pyjamas.
“What are you doing here?” She asked him with a frown.
“I know you said you wanted space, and I'm glad to give it to you but you need to understand why I did what I did. I understand why you are mad, you have every right to. I didn't respect your privacy. I didn't think how it would look, I had you stalked for my personal selfish reasons. I had to know what kind of person I'm getting myself involved with. I can't afford to make mistakes. Please understand, it was never my intention to hurt you. I would never go too far either.” It wasn't what he prepared mentally but he somehow managed to spit out words.
“You wanted to know if I was a criminal or something?” She asked.
“If we are putting it that way, yes.” He couldn't bring himself to look her in the eyes.
“Look, Grayson. I'd say I understand, it's probably some rich people thing. But I still have to process this, okay?” She raised her eyebrows at the last part.
“I understand. You need time. I'll be on my way. Please don't let everything go.” He begged.
She didn't say anything but when he turned she stopped him. “Wait.”
“What is it?” He asked, ready to do anything she is going to ask him.
“Um, it's nothing. I'm going out with a few friends tonight. A club. I thought you should know.” He didn't know why she him know this.
“You’re allowed to do what you please.” He stated.
“There'll be guys.” She paused for a moment. “My friends wanted me to meet someone because of…”
“I hope you enjoy your time.”
“But I'm not going to.”
Well that was a relief for him.
“I trust you to do the right thing and the thing you want, Arya.”
_
It would be a deliberate lie if Grayson said he was not bothered by the fact that his girlfriend or whatever they are now is out in a club probably being set up with a random guy by her friends. Grayson can't sleep on a good day let alone a time like this, he was swimming like a mad man in the hotel’s pool and had to stop because his phone rang. He saw her name on the screen and immediately answered it.
“Are you okay?” He asked. It was his first thought.
“Yes! But I miss you, so, so, so much.” Her words slurred.
“How many drinks did you have?” He asked.
“You're an idiot! When I said I'm going to the club you should have said ‘Can I come?’”
“I didn't think you'd want me there.”
“Of course not, but you should have stopped me from coming to this lame hangout.” She scoffs.
“Lame? Why is that?”
“I'm not having the fun my friend promised me.” She said. “What are you doing now?” She asked.
“I was swimming right before you called me.” He told her.
“Are you naked?” She asked in a teasing manner.
“Not fully.”
“Not helping.”
“With what?”
“Come here.” She didn't answer his questions.
“Where?”
“To the club, obviously.”
“Are you sure?”
“Hundred percent.”
He let her hang up the phone and went to his room to get changed. He put on a suit and drove to the club she told him she was at. When he arrived at the club he found her at the bar counter talking about some random things to the bartender.
“Arya.” He called her name from behind.
“Gray!” She turned to him and back to the bartender. “This is the guy I was talking about!” She told the bartender. “Ronnie here asked me to file a restraining order against you.” She giggled.
“I think it's time to go home.” He told her, ignoring the last part.
“What? Why?” She asked with a scowl.
“You're wasted, love.” He gently grabbed her arms and helped her up.
“I called you here to have fun with me!” She whines.
“You need to lay down, you're way too drunk to be out here.” He wrapped his arms around her waist to get a hold on her as he led her out.
“Am I?”
He nodded and helped her to get inside his car and put on her seatbelt. He started diving slowly to her apartment after he gave her a bottle of water. After drinking the water she took out her phone and texted someone.
“Who are you texting?” He asked out of curiosity.
“My other boyfriend.” She grinned playfully.
“Funny.”
“I'm texting my friends letting them know I left.” She informed him. “I made a new friend.”
“Oh?”
“You know him! Ronnie. He doesn't like you.” She said.
“For good reasons.” There was guilt in his voice.
She kept talking about what she told Ronnie until they reached her apartment. Grayson decided it's better to carry her and she didn't fight it. He let her down once they reached her door. She opened the door by herself and let him in as well.
“I'll leave now. Call me if you need anything.” He turned to leave but she stopped him. He turned back to her, instead of saying something she pulled him by his tie to make his head reach her level and gently kissed him.
Grayson was surprised by this. It has been a week since they kissed. Or even be this close. He didn't kiss her back, she is only kissing him because she's intoxicated.
“Kiss me.” She whispered against his lips.
“You're drunk.” He stated.
“So?”
“You don't want to kiss me. And you're drunk, I'm not that kind of man.”
“Just kiss me. Didn't you stalk me? Or had someone stalked me? Shouldn't you be like, I don't know, obsessed with me or something?” She asked out of frustration.
“I am obsessed with you. But I can't let this happen when you're drunk.”
She rolled her eyes and paused for a moment before she spoke. “Why did you do it? Why did you have to do it? Why couldn't you be a normal hot guy? You ruined everything.”
“I know.” He took her hands. “I'll do everything I can to make it better.”
“I know you will. That's the problem.” She groans.
“Why?”
“Because I will forgive you.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“No. What will people say? Going back to the guy who professionally stalked you?”
“Who cares what they think?”
“I do.” She looked down. He took her face in his hands.
“It's totally up to you. You can be with me or not. It's your choice.”
She didn't say anything. “Will you stay over tonight?” She asked.
“Whatever you want, love.”
“Liar. You didn't kiss me and let things get heated up.” She reminded him.
“Ask me tomorrow.” He told her with a mischievous smile.
20 notes · View notes
charliedawn · 2 days
Note
Hey! How would father!Michael Myers feel about Eddie Gluskin wanting Michael's 25 year old daughter who is also a patient in the asylum to be his wife?
How are you?
(I am fine. How about you ?)
Tumblr media
It started the day when you were transferred from another asylum to St Louis. Female patients weren’t usually allowed, but you were made an exception because Michael wouldn’t go anywhere without his precious daughter. You had grown up surrounded by slashers and hence, not much scared you.
When Eddie Gluskin was admitted in St Louis, he wasn’t introduced to you because…well…Michael.
But one day, you happened to wake up before your father and come down for some breakfast when you accidentally met Eddie. You were both stunned. You had never met before and Eddie wasn’t even aware that there were any women around other than the nurses.
Your eyes met and once the shock over, he decided to pretend being too busy with his coffee to speak. You quickly realised it was best not to stare, so you decided to just go toast yourself some slices of bread for breakfast.
There was silence.
Eddie glanced a few times in your direction, but didn’t speak a word. Neither did you. Michael had taught you not to speak to strangers, so you didn’t. You hence didn’t speak until you were back upstairs and took a deep breath. He was…gorgeous. You decided not to speak to your father about that little episode.
He wouldn’t have understood and besides…you probably wouldn’t see him again.
But then, you started waking up early everyday to get breakfast and Eddie was there—like clockwork. You never spoke, but awkward silence turned to shy smiles and little glances here and there…until one day.
You were about to get back to your room when you stopped dead in your tracks and looked down at the pancakes in your plate…Surely, Michael would not mind being short of a few, right ? You took a deep breath and backtracked to sit down next to him. If he was surprised, he didn’t show it.
"…You like pancakes ?" You asked. He remained silent for a moment before looking at you. He stayed silent for a moment before he finally smiled.
"I do enjoy a good pancake. Would you care to share ?"
Tumblr media
It was the first time you were hearing his voice. It sounded soft and a little hushed—as if he wasn’t used of using it all that much. You smiled back.
"Not at all." You then proceeded to serve him pancakes and Eddie smiled again before digging in.
"I’m Y/N Myers by the way." You introduced yourself and his pale blue eyes looked up at you.
"Eddie. Eddie Gluskin."
From that day onwards, you started spending time with Eddie.
You started watching him and tried to understand who he really was. Eddie was respectful and polite and seemed like the perfect gentleman. You didn’t know why a man like him would be admitted to a mental institution—especially since he seemed so clear-minded.
From what you had heard, he had just transferred from a place called Mount Massive asylum. He hadn’t brought it up though, so you guessed that it wasn’t a fond memory of his. You couldn’t have access to files, but you had heard nurses speak about a certain ‘Waylon Park’. Once you started your research, you were able to understand what his past was and why he was here.
But, you were not one to judge too quickly, especially being Michael’s daughter offered you perspective and that not everything was as it seemed.
The more you shared, the closer you got…until one day, Eddie was the one preparing breakfast and before you could protest, he had invited you to sit down and get a taste. You sat down and started eating with a grin on your face and Eddie seemed happy that you’d eat his food.
"Good, darling. Really good." He cooed and you smiled—completely oblivious…until your vision started faltering and you realised that Eddie had surely drugged you. In a matter of seconds, you were asleep. He then picked you up bridal style and smirked as he proceeded to carry you to his bedroom.
"Sleep soundly, my darling. Sweet dreams."
———————————————————————
After your ‘disappearance’, Michael was desperate and he knocked at every door, searched every dark spot in the entire asylum. He could not find you anywhere and finally called your name over and over again. He usually never used his voice, but this was an emergency. Finally…he got news.
Eddie came to him with a letter.
An invitation to your wedding.
"…"
Michael looked up at him in shock. He couldn’t believe it and before anyone could stop him, he had taken Eddie by the throat and threw him against a wall.
"You took her ?!"
He then proceeded to wrap his hand around Eddie’s throat and squeezed. But, Eddie wasn’t afraid. Eddie took a moment before standing back up and claiming:
"We are in love…"
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Michael remained silent for a moment before bashing Eddie’s head against the wall.
"WHERE IS MY DAUGHTER ?!"
Suddenly, nurses and doctors and guards came in to stop the fight and some of them had to tackle down Michael to make him stop turning Eddie’s head into mush. Michael’s knuckles had turned red by the time he was dragged out of the room.
Fortunately, you were found in Eddie’s room…in a closet. He had tied you up and drugged you. Fortunately, no harm was done to you and you were brought back to Michael safe and sound.
But you could not help yourself to ask why.
Why had he done this ?
So, you went to his cell.
"…Eddie ?" There was no movement for a couple of minutes before Eddie slowly turned his head towards you and smiled.
"Darling."
You sighed before asking him.
"Why ? Why did you do this ? I thought we were friends."
Eddie clicked his tongue.
"Please, darling. Do not insult me. You knew what I wanted. I am a patient, just as much as you. I would assume you already knew about me and the reasons that brought me here, no ?"
You shuddered at the look he gave you.
"…You knew I liked you. You could have waited." You told him with a sad smile and Eddie laughed.
"Oh my sweet sweet darling." He suddenly grabbed your arm and pulled you closer. "I have WAITED my entire existence to find my perfect wife. And now that I have finally found you…my ALMOST perfect wife…You expect me to wait some more ?"
He smirked and your heart paced rapidly in your chest. He released you and you took a few steps back.
"A-Almost ?" You asked and he chuckled.
"Yes. Almost. You will be my wife. But first, we have got to get rid of your FATHER, darling."
Your eyes widened in shock and you shook your head. He tilted his head and his smirk softened as his eyes bored into yours.
"Don’t you worry, my love. I will be the one taking care of everything for you…We will soon be together. As it was intended. You and I. Me and my sweet wife…Just wait for me, as I have waited for you."
Tumblr media
17 notes · View notes
psychic-waffles · 1 year
Video
how am i ever supposed to be normal again
168 notes · View notes
dailyfigures · 7 months
Text
my apologies for posting like 34 times a day i have queued way too many halloween posts and i refuse to delete any of them so i Will make them fit in this month. mark my words
33 notes · View notes
sonofshu · 3 hours
Text
‎ ‎
#I'm broken#I was already broken but now I feel like I can't do anything#Ive done too much#and now I'm just a piece of shit who won't apologize to anyone upfront#Just crying in the tags pathetically waiting for anything to happen#I can't do this#I can't help people no matter how hard I try and it makes me feel like I have absolutely no purpose here#and It's taking too much of a toll to fail#I should just go to sleep and forget about everything#but sleep is for people who care about themselves#I do care about myself#but I care in a way that I need revenge on her#I loathe her and everything she's done to the people that tried to love her#she's pathetic and ugly and I don't see how anyone even tried to befriend her in the first place#and I feel especially bad for the people who succeeded#because she turned into a clingy parasite for everyone who talked to her#She never even had the courage to start a conversation with people and made each and every one of them feel like this shitbag didn't care#She just hurts and hurts and hurts until she comes crawling back to apologize only for her to clam up all over again#she's selfish and rude and pathetic in every awful way and I wish people would learn that about her#I feel sorry for her and everything that becomes of her shitty actions#but she never FUCKING learns and it ends up hurting everyone that was sorry enough to pity her with conversation#I wish she would just suck it all up and try to be a good fucking person for ONCE in her FUCKING life in a way that didn't make people want#to fucking#off themself just because they TALKED to her and she rudely FUCKED OFF TO NOWHERE#because at the end of the day#I say to myself#at the end of the day she tries her fucking best#BUT NOBODY SEEMS TO FUCKING SEE THAT SHE IS CONSTANTLY FUCKING TREMBLING AT THE MERE *THOUGHT* OF HAVING TO LIVE AS HERSELF#and I feel so bad for her#I feel bad for me I guess
2 notes · View notes