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#WE’LL SUFFER TOGETHER ANON
moonlightdancer26 · 1 month
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People calling every severus looking mf Sirius is my villain origin story
SAMEEEEE OMGGGG I HATE IT SM. ESP WHEN THE SEVERUS LOOKALIKE THAT GETS CALLED SIRIUE IS MORE FEMININE LOOKING AND HAS MORE OF A LONER PERSONALITY. “he’s a Sirius variant / he’s so Sirius” LIKE WDYM BRO THAT IS LITERALLY SNAPE
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allylikethecat · 11 months
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hi!! would you consider writing a one shot about matty getting his eye infection and needing some hurt/comfort? loved your hurt matty writing in patient zero and thirtheen <3
Awww thank you so much! I’m so happy to hear that you enjoyed Patient Zero and Thirteen! Making Fictional Matty suffer is one of my favorite pass times! Fictional Matty just continues to bring it upon himself and I am loving every minute of it!
I’m out of the loop on the Matty eye situation- I was out of state with the girl I nanny for at a horse show (and I didn’t even get to bring my own horse and show myself which was a bummer) and therefore have barely been on any social media that’s not horse related 😭 (Got to witness a few gnarly wrecks though and now I cannot wait to go snuggle my own pony on Tuesday) I saw Matty had an eye patch but I didn’t realize it was a medical thing and not an ~aesthetic~ thing 😬 I’ll do some research (re: watch concert videos and scroll twitter and tiktok) and see if the plot bunnies will surface 😉
I did get a very nice comment on my Matty fic (Sometimes) this morning, and the plot bunnies are in fact doing something with that one! We will see what ends up happening! I think I have more ideas than time these days, though I have been wanting to actually write the companion fic I have outlined.
Thank you so much for reading and reaching out and enjoying my fic enough to make a hurt / comfort request 🥰 Maybe if I don’t end up flushing out a full fic I’ll post a lil drabble or something here on tumblr? Let me know if that’s something you (or anyone else) would be interested in! Thank you again!!
❤️Ally
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sh1-n0bu · 1 year
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HELLO HELLOOO I was just wondering if I could ask if you could do a
Kaeya or Thoma ORR Diluc x Self destructive reader? Maybe any genshin character but whenever my mind goes to angst my mind automatically goes to Kaeya and Diluc LMAO
And basically Reader has a hard time expressing feelings and finds comfort in their lowest so they are seen as reserved
And Kaeya or (Character) tries their very best to help them despite reader rejecting their affections and worries But Kaeya or (Character) loves them too much to let go so they just stay by Reader's side
You can add more or plan the rest of the story but right now that's all I could explain
One last if I could ask I'd like to be Banananon/ 🍌 Anon
Besides that have a great time! Your works are amazing 🫶
✿ 𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 ✿
characters: kaeya, diluc and thoma x nb!reader
warnings: angst, comfort, reader daydreams a lot, mentions of self harm and healed scars
notes: what the reader is going through and their description of self destructive thoughts, actions and behaviors are all greatly influenced by my own not so great moments. if such topics are triggering to you then please scroll past or continue with caution. i hope you’re all doing well in this dark times. i love you and thank you for being here
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as the sole survivor of his family and the one given the task to be his destroyed home nation’s one and only hope, the cavalry captain has his own dark moments
definitely did used to self harm as well. it only worsened after his fight with diluc and crepus’ death
and seeing you, his closest companion, lover, his light and life, his dark days and pillar suffer through the same things makes him want to curl up on the floor and wail until there’s nothing left in him
will sit you down and have a nice long talk with you. it can range from your self destructive habits, self harm scars, bad coping mechanisms to even the gossips the cavalry captain had heard or shared with lisa, how diluc’s hair seemed a bit more trimmed today at angel’s share, how the cats at cat’s tail was seemingly more affectionate etc etc
anything you want to talk about, kaeya’s here
scars, relapses or even a new stimming you’ve got, he notices the second he sees it. he may have one eye but he’s keen on noticing the smallest, minute detail that is changed
but if you don’t wish to talk about it or don’t hint anything to him then it’s okay. kaeya can wait but please don’t take too long until you have completely destroyed your own self beyond recognition. he can’t carry the guilt and regret
if you have been relapsing too much then kaeya will have no other choice but to sit you down and talk about it
he will even come to a compromise to quit his alcohol addiction and learn to live again with you, together
if he comes back from his work to see you feeling down in the dumps, prepare yourself to be wrapped up in the biggest fluffy blanket like a burrito and given cuddles and smooches mwah mwah mwah mwah (¯ ³¯)♡
“there there, darling. we’ll go through this together”
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another person who has self harmed in the past
personally speaking, i think he used to self harm in a deprivation type of way especially during his time when hunting the fatui harbingers in the merciless eternal winter clad nation of shneznaya
depriving himself of food, water, hygiene, sleep, the basic human necessities to survive
so after the whole hunting harbingers thing is over and the wine tycoon comes back to mondstadt, diluc’s trying his best and starts to let go of his self harming habits, actions etc
in the present time when he sees you, his lover, the dawn to his dark side, the apple of his eye and his most cherished person doing the same things he used to do - it pains him immeasurably
diluc is a straightforward person. if there’s something he doesn’t like he says it, shows it without wasting a single second
but this. this was an incredibly sensitive and a hard topic for anyone to talk about or mention
so he decides to wait for you to say something or even give him the smallest of hints first. however don’t take too long because if diluc sees you continuing to be self destructive then he’s taking things into his own hands
will bring up about the topic on a warm night, when the two of you are cuddling close to each other under the blankets as the fire in the fireplace crackles softly
the atmosphere is soft, silent and comfortable with the smell of your cups filled with hot cocoa wafts through the air. this is when diluc gently brings up the topic
will patiently wait until you wrap your mind around things and answer him. even then the uncrowned king will stay quiet, taking in every words, every names, every breath and sighs you produce with a gentle squeeze to your intertwined hands
when you’re finished opening up to him, diluc will place down both of your cups on the nightstand of the bed and pull you in for a cuddle. you can cry if you want to, he will soothingly rub shapes and sizes into your shoulder with a low hum to soothe you
“it’s alright, my love. you’re safe now. here, with me”
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first of all
yes my skrunkly (you), you can marry the puppy vibed blonde fictional man you saw on your device screen. mama nobu approves, he looks like a green flag
anyways, with that shit out of the way
green flag. seriously. just green flag all over
thoma has personally never experienced or committed any self deprecating, harming or destroying actions, thoughts or whatsoever
he does have bad days but that’s it. bad days. he likes to stay enthusiastic about life and living in general so he simply sits down, takes a breather, maybe pay a visit to the stray cats and dogs he looks after in inazuma city before continuing
when thoma first notices your scars whether they’re healed or not, or even sees your self destructive habits such as not eating when your stomach is grumbling, tugging on your hair harshly, peeling the skin around your nails - thoma instantly reaches his hands out and envelopes yours in his own
with a soft voice, the housekeeper would envelop both of your hands in his before looking into your eyes with the most saddest kicked puppy look
will ask you if you’re okay first and foremost before holding your hand and walking back home together. on the way he will buy you some of your favorite treats, drinks, point out a newly opened shop, a new vendor etc etc
when home, thoma would make a nice chamomile tea before sitting down with you on the chabudai. first will start with the small little talks about what happened during his time at the kamisato’s, a cute cat he saw and will eventually slowly drift into your habits
he will be here with you through thick and thin. you’re his pudding after all but before that you are your own person and you deserve to live
“sweettums… i will always be here with you through anything and everything okay?”
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undeadcannibal · 11 months
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How about ghost and König with an mentally I’ll S/O? I thought maybe like bpd?
Maybe the s/o splitting on them or them going into depression / manic phase.
Have a hard time coping right know and reading about my comfort character chills me a bit😅
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Summary: How Ghost and König would help their S/O who struggles with their mental health.
Genre: Headcanons, request(s) Characters featured: Ghost, and König.
Warnings: Mention of mental health struggles, none.
A/N: I’m sorry to hear you’re having a rough time, Anon. Your girl is struggling hard too, but we’ll feel better soon! The approach I took for this was more focused on depression and manic phase(s) given those are what I’m more familiar with. I was tempted to try to include the splitting as well, but didn’t want to approach it and do a terrible/offensive job of it. I hope you don’t mind! Also, thank you for the request! It is much appreciated.   ( Gif credit: xxx )
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Ghost―
Before the two of you had even agreed on becoming a couple, you’d had a long conversation about your mental health. Explaining everything you dealt with and how it could sometimes make life very difficult for you.
Thankfully, he explained that he understood more than he let on. Simply explaining that he, too, often struggled with his own mental health as well.
Over time, he’d be able to recognize the signs of when your slipping a bit. Noting if you ever stay in bed longer, skip showers, or find it difficult to do other simple tasks.
At that point, he’s unsure of what would work best for you but decides to try rather than leave you to suffer through it alone.
He’d do his best try and urge you out of bed with simple tasks that feel manageable: asks if you’d at least like to get up and change, maybe brush your teeth, comb out your hair  - if you’ve any - so it doesn’t tangle and knot.
Will absolutely take care of the cooking and chores so you don’t have to worry about it. He doesn’t mind it in the slightest. If anything, it helps ease his own mind a bit to take care of mindless tasks for the both of you.
Even if it’s not to your taste, he’ll offer to brew you a hot cup of tea anyway because he swears it helps him even during the roughest of times. If tea isn’t to your liking, he’s up and running to the nearest corner store to grab you your favorite drink and a little treat.
If the mania hits, he’s a little more unsure of how to approach things but will get it over time with help. Honestly, he’d just try and roll with the punches the best he can whilst also being your support system when you need it.
Definitely a good voice of reason. If you’re anything like me and tend to constantly want to do this and that when that burst of energy hits, he’ll try and ground you a bit. Asks you what you’d prefer to do first and also does his best to discuss the things you can’t do for whatever reason.
Sure, he’ll have moments where his own stress gets to him, but he’d never take it out on you. Especially when he knows you’re dealing with mental health problems more so than usual. He’ll calmly explain that he just needs a moment to deal with himself before returning, feeling better and ready to help however you’d like him to.
Moments like those are where his touch revulsion tendencies are practically non-existent since he’s so focused on trying to make you feel better. If you want to cuddle, he’s asking which spoon you’d prefer to be. If you’d rather just be within his presence, he’s happy to stay by you and find something to read or watch together. Anything if it means helping you feel better.
König―
Despite him dealing with anxiety and such, I can see him being very hesitant and unsure of what to do at first. You’d have to talk him through everything and explain the best ways to help you during your worst moments.
Be patient with this man. I personally like to roll with the Colonel status for him -- so he’d be a bit on the older side. Possibly a little behind on the times of how to help others in the best way possible.
However, once he gets the hang of things, he’s the best support system you could ever ask for.
When those rough times roll around, he’s already going through a mental checklist of things you’ve mentioned might help make things better. When those don’t work, he begins to try some of his own tactics to help.
Isn’t the best cook, but does try his best. If even that isn’t enough, he’s jumping to order and pick up whatever you’d like. Regardless of what or where it is.
Also loves to try and ground you a bit during rough episodes, he goes through a whole routine with you sometimes. May or may not have researched them online.
Much like Ghost, König will not hesitate to help ground you with physical touch and affection. The man gives the best bear hugs and will gladly squeeze you as tight as you’d like. Also loves to snuggle and just have you in his lap to try and make you feel better.
For those more manic periods, he’s right there with you until - if ever - he senses things getting out of hand. Still does his best to do right by you though. The last thing he wants is for him to try an approach that would make things worse for you.
Really just wants to be there for you however he can, no matter the cost.
Say the word and he’s doing whatever you want or need without question, and within reason.
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cowboydisaster · 1 year
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Sleepless Nights
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repost, originally posted on 13 march 2023
pairing: Dutch van der Linde x fem!reader (+jealous arthur? check notes)
word count: 3k
summary: Dutch helps to keep you toasty on a freezing Colter night. This was written to an anon request "I can think of a few ways to keep warm"
a/n: idk how but this turned into a dutch smut + a snippet of jealous Arthur at the end? Not sure, but I like the finished product!
warning: nsfw, 18+, minors dni
taglist: @margofiore@mrsarthurmorgan7@woman-with-no-name@luvliewriting@tillith@pine4pple-b0i@photo1030@dudsparrow (sorry for tagging you twice, I'm done, I promise lol.)
Your teeth chatter and click together in the overwhelmingly cold cabin. You hate Colter, you hate this storm and you hate the Pinkertons. The only thing keeping you sane right now is Dutch at your back. It’s dark in your section of the little cabin, and it's freezing cold. Dutch lines your back on the small bed, spooning you as close as he can possibly get without crushing you. His warmth doesn’t help much in the storm, but it's better than nothing. Arthur and Hosea are in the other rooms in the little cabin, and by the sounds of their snores through the thin wall, they’re not suffering nearly as much as you are. 
“My dear, this is killing me. What can I do?” Dutch says, beside himself from the way you’re shaking down to your bones. Your skin is like ice, and even as he rubs up and down your arms, you don't warm up.
“Nothing, it's okay but I-Im, god, I'm so c-cold.” Is the only reply you can muster. Dutch pulls your back closer to his chest, thinking. 
You coil around yourself, smiling as Dutch begins to pepper open mouthed kisses along your neck and jaw. He nips the skin of your pulsepoint, gently toying it with his teeth before running his tongue over the red spot.
“You know…” Dutch begins, and the hand that was snaked around your waist moves downward to reach up the bottom of your chemise. You shudder, but not from the cold, as Dutch’s featherlight touch trails up your thigh, past your abdomen and to your breasts. 
“I can think of a few ways to keep warm…” Dutch whispers, breath hot against your neck. He kisses the underside of your jaw, running his thumb overtop your hardened nipple before circling it a few times. 
Your breath hitches in your throat, and the little gasp that leaves your lips causes Dutch’s jeans to grow tighter around his groin. His thumb flicks over your nipple a few times, and his lips kiss and suck at your ear lobe. 
“Dutch, wait- Hosea and Arthur are sleeping and the walls are thin-” You protest lightly, not wanting to get caught in the act. But the warmth that starts to cover your body from Dutch’s touch and the wetness that begins to pool between your thighs begs him to continue.
“Guess we’ll have to be quiet then, hmm?” Dutch pinches your nipple lightly, trying to restrain from grinding his hips against your ass as he whispers against your ear, “Can you do that for me, princess?”
You whimper, pushing yourself back against Dutch. It elicits a deep groan from the man, and you can feel the outline of his hard cock against your lower back. 
“Mhm.” You nod, needing Dutch to keep touching you. 
He obliges of course, squeezing your breast and groaning before sliding his hand down towards your lower stomach. Once he reaches your thighs, he urges them apart. 
“Can you spread these pretty thighs for me? Hmm, my dear?” Dutch asks, and his voice alone does you in. You lift your leg up a bit, still in a spooning position to grant his hands access. He brings his hand in between your thighs from the back, and runs his fingers over your slick folds. 
“You’re so… God- You’re so wet for me.” Dutch whispers, and his cock is pressing so hard against the inside of his jeans that it hurts. But he’ll take care of you first, he always does. 
His fingers trace a familiar pattern over your clit, the same one that you use to get yourself off. He knows you like the back of his hand, knows everything you want, everything you need. Being with Dutch is as easy as breathing, and you need him like the oxygen that flows to and from your lungs. His large hands ground you, touching you in a manner that doesn’t allow the chill of the room to grasp onto you. Your body burns with his touch, racing ever faster towards a cliff's edge. 
It doesn't take long. His voice combined with the way he’s touching you are the perfect concoction that has you whimpering and gasping. You turn your head into the pillow, and every exhale hits you with a wave of building pleasure. It's the kind of orgasm that peaks slowly, his fingers know exactly what you need, responding to your moans to bring you to a toe curling, whimpering mess. Even with your face lodged into the pillow, your gasping breaths and moans can be heard, albeit muffled. You rock against Dutch’s fingers, elongating your orgasm while clamping your thighs down over his arm and hand. 
“Yeah, just like that… let me work you through it, easy.” Dutch coos, rubbing against your clit until it's too much and you have to pull away from oversensitivity. 
“Fuck, Dutch–” You whimper, and the sweat on your forehead speaks for your better temperature. 
He presses a kiss to the back of your head, shushing you and reminding you that Hosea and Arthur are just on the other side of the wall. Really you don’t care, you can’t even form a coherent thought as you push your ass against Dutch's groin, grinding against his unfreed cock until he groans. He pulls his zipper down far too slow for what you need. 
“Please, Dutch, I need-” You whine, cunt throbbing with need. 
“Just a second, my dear. Patience.” Dutch chuckles, finally releasing his thick shaft from the confines of his jeans. He lifts your thigh up again, running the rosy head of his cock along your entrance to use your slick. 
“You ready, my love?” Dutch whispers, kissing your shoulder, his facial hair causing goosebumps to shiver down your body. You nod, begging him to just take you already. 
As soon as he has your consent, he slides in, pushing into you slowly. Your walls are tight around him, even with all the slick and the foreplay. You moan, tossing your head back against Dutch’s chest as he slowly fucks you from behind, still spooning.  The position gives him a perfect angle to bump right into your G-spot, and you’re moaning and whimpering after only a few moments of his slow thrusts. His hand steadies himself on your hip, and you reach to your side to grasp onto it, nails digging into his hand. 
“God- you’re so tight.” Dutch groans as he thrusts into you. The head of his cock bumps right into that sweet spot, and you feel the first tingling of an approaching orgasm, even without the external stimulation.
"Oh Dutch faster please-" You moan, needing to feel more of him, quicker and harder. 
"As you wish, my love." Dutch groans before picking up his pace and ramming into you so hard that the bed rocks side to side with his rhythm. The creaking bed is loud, but not nearly as loud or vulgar as his hips slapping against your ass, or the moans that fall from your lips as you pinch your nipple. 
"Fuck! Oh- Dutch I'm so close!" You practically scream, gripping onto the side of the bed that rocks like a ship mid-storm. You can feel every ridge, every vein and every twitch of Dutch inside you as he mercilessly takes you. 
"Cum for me, my dear, let me feel it-" Dutch groans in your ear, holding himself back until you've been properly satisfied. It's difficult, considering those pretty noises you're making, and the way his name falls so effortlessly from your lips. 
As soon as he says the words, you allow yourself release. Your walls clamp down around Dutch as you rock back against him, waves of tight, hot pleasure falling over you. Dutch tries to continue his pace to ensure your maximum pleasure, but you're squeezing him so tightly, and god- the sounds you make. You moan, crying out and gasping for air as "Oh!" and "Dutch!"  are repeated over and over. 
You can feel him begin to twitch, he groans louder, fucks you erratically. You've said the words before you've even considered them, before you've even thought of the consequences. 
"No, dont pull out please- I wanna feel you, I wanna take it!" You yell out, surely you've woken up Arthur and Hosea by now. Surely they can hear everything happening through the thin walls, but you don't care, not right now anyway. 
As soon as he has permission,  he thrusts into you one last, slow and hard time, filling you up completely. He sputters and groans as he does. 
"So good for me- so good." Dutch mumbles, an aborted thrust of his hips paints your walls with the last bit of his spend. 
You bring your thigh back down, wincing from overstimulation. Dutch doesn't pull out of you, still in to the hilt as he wraps his arms around you again. You're breathing heavily, recuperating from the best orgasm you've ever had in your life. 
"Thank you…" You whisper, craning your head to catch his lips in a kiss. It starts out slow, your lips meet his own in a small, sweet show of love. But as it grows longer, and his pecks become little bites to your bottom lip, you feel heat pooling in your belly again.
"You know, I have to be up early Mr. van der Linde." You chastise, looking into his eyes before trailing back down to his lips. 
"Hmmm, I do. But there's less productive, albeit more interesting ways we could spend our time rather than sleeping… I do have an obligation to keep you warm. Isn't that right miss?" He whispers, trailing kisses from the underside of your jawline down to your neck, and licking a trail up to your earlobe before nipping it with his teeth. 
"We really shouldn't, Dutch. We have to rob the train tomorrow." You counter, but the way you giggle, and your breath picking up tells Dutch that you don't want him to stop.
"I have an idea." Dutch says, kissing your temple before pulling out of you, slowly. 
"Y'know, I have a special talent.." Dutch jokes, sitting up in the bed beside you and urging you to lay on your back. 
"Oh, you do?" You play, knowing exactly where this is going and loving every second of it. 
You spread your legs for Dutch, pulling your chemise up enough to expose yourself to him. 
"Oh, I do. And luckily for you, it is a talent that you're quite familiar with." Dutch jokes before ducking under the blankets. You laugh out loud, because he is ridiculous. 
He settles himself in between your legs, under the blankets before you feel his mustache against your inner thighs, bucking your hips to chase after the feeling of his mouth on your most sensitive bits.
Arthur wakes up in a cold sweat from a dream. A dream about you. It's a dream that plagues him on lonely nights. One of your body under his own, slotting together with him. One where you call out his name, gripping onto him like he's everything while he touches every inch of your body, memorizing you. 
He wakes up, and sees the tent that has formed under the blanket from his dirty mind. 
"Goddamnit-" Arthur sighs, angry with himself for being such a creep. Because he will never have you. You are with Dutch- you don't want him. And as he lies awake thinking about you, or sleeps and dreams of you at night, he is only a fleeting thought in your mind. When he sees you in camp, smiling bright with flowers in your hair, your clothes wrapped tightly around your body it drives him mad. He could show you what love can be, he could love you better than Dutch. But he will never have that chance. 
So he does what he does everytime you linger on his mind for too long… 
Arthur reaches down, under the blankets to free his erect cock from his long johns. As soon as his hard shaft springs free from the material, his eyes slip closed, and he recalls his dream. 
You're underneath his body, gasping for breath and moaning as he thrusts into you hard and slow. He starts to stroke himself lightly, toying with himself. He thinks of you in his tent, stepping out of your clothes, of you sitting in his lap, taking what you need and rocking yourself against him. With every stroke of his hand on his cock, he imagines that it's you. He pumps himself into his closed fist, running his thumb over his head just wishing that it was your mouth, your lips on him, your tight walls, taking him like his girl. He whispers your name under his breath, bucking his hips up into his hand.
… And then he hears it. A whimper, coming from the otherside of the wall directly to his left. The wall that separates his room from yours and Dutch's.
Arthur's hand stops abruptly when he hears it. His eyes shoot open, and he glances to the wall, separating you from him by just a few feet. 
"Fuck, Dutch-" You moan, gasping and whimpering from the other side of the wall. At first, it takes the breath away from Arthur. That bastard is touching you right here, for everyone to hear. Like he's showing you off, letting Arthur know what he will never have. Arthur wants to quit, wants to shove his hard length back into his pants and be swallowed up by the floor. 
But then your moans continue, and as Arthur's eyes slip closed again, you whimper, and his cock twitches with need. Arthur sighs, feeling like a total pervert as he starts to slowly pump his fist up and down his shaft again. Arthur pretends that it's him making you moan like that. It's him on top of you, fucking into that sweet little cunt and kissing those perfect rosy lips. He imagines his lips, kissing and licking at those perfect breasts, taking you and giving you everything you need. 
"Please Dutch, I need-" You whine, begging
Dutch to fuck you, and Arthur decides in this moment that he hates Dutch. Arthur hates that Dutch is having you like this, while he pathetically fucks his fist. Because Arthur loves you. He loves you, and you're with Dutch.
Then Arthur hears the unmistakable sounds of sex. He hears Dutch thrusting into you, the slap of you taking him to the hilt, and how you moan with every goddamn rock. Arthur bucks his hips up, fucking his hand hard and fast, wishing it were you. He times his hand with your moans, just wishing that it were him making you moan like that.
"God, you're so tight…" Dutch growls, and Arthur wants nothing more than to go in there and kill the sonofabitch. It should be him in there, not Dutch. 
Arthur tightens his fist around his shaft, only being able to imagine how it must feel to have you around him.
The younger outlaw holds his groans in, not wanting to be caught. You on the other hand are crying out, whimpering and moaning Dutch's name. Arthur hates it, and green envy colors him with want. It only makes his movements harder, faster. 
"Fuck! Oh- Dutch I'm so close!" You yell through the slightly muffled wall. 
Arthur has always wondered what you sound like, how you moan when you cum. And tonight is no different. He is waiting for your release, begging you in his mind to just fucking cum already so that he can put this goddamn fantasy that's never going to happen to rest and get some sleep. 
After a few moments he hears the release. Your breaths get heavy, loud and quick. They turn to gasps, that turn to moans until the whole cabin reverberates with your sweet, beautiful cries of pleasure. You're calling out Dutch's name, but Arthur ignores it. He pumps his fist in time with your moans, climaxing with you. With a low, quiet groan, Arthur cums, sending warm strings of his spend up over his own stomach. For a moment, Arthur just lays there, listening to your whimpers continue. Your orgasm is drawn out, as you moan and gasp for a while until they quiet down. 
He feels enraged as you beg Dutch to finish inside you. Of course you do. Arthur hates Dutch and he hates whatever cruel higher power is forcing him to endure this purgatory. He hears your whimpers and moans, knowing that it's something he will never elicit from you. Dutch groans, and Arthur is actually relieved, knowing it's finally fucking over. 
Arthur wipes himself off, feeling like an asshole. His heart shatters when he hears the little kisses that you two share, the aftercare that Arthur wants nothing more than to give you. After a few moments of quiet, and some giggles, it starts all over again. You start to moan, start to whimper and groan. 
"Christ alive…" Arthur whispers, shoving a pillow over his ear. He does actually want to get some sleep, and he feels like a complete perv, listening in like that.
Much to Arthur's growing insanity, you don't stop. No, not for the rest of the night. The two of you go at it like rabbits, and Dutch brings you over the edge again and again, until Arthur stomps out of the cabin and spends the rest of the night in the barn. 
No one gets much sleep.
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missuswalker · 5 months
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omg your fic i get it with kit is so sweet istg *-*
can I please request a part 2 to it, where kit tries to get y/n out attempting a escape for the both of them together? tysm, i loved this story <3
𝐢 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐭, 𝐩𝐭. 𝐭𝐰𝐨 || 𝐤𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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♰ summary: kit can’t watch the woman he loves suffer - he has to get her out - pt 1
♰ warnings: nothing, just fluff!! he deserves it (kind of messy/rushed, though, i don’t why i couldn’t figure out how to write this 💀) and as usual not proofread
♰ notes: tytyty anon!! appreciate the love, i hope u enjoy 🫶🏼 kind of made it less stressful + more lovey because that mad needs it
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“y/n.”
whispers of your name echoed in your head, pulling you from a darkness you couldn’t seem to escape. emptiness, pure silence only interrupted by the whispers.
“y/n. y/n, wake up, honey.”
sitting up with a gasp, your eyes fly open, panicked at the feeling of hands on your shoulders. upon taking a moment to look around, you’re calmed by kit’s face being the one hovering over yours. except, then, you’re confused. “kit? how’d you get in here?” you whisper, wrapping your arms around yourself at the bite of the cold air.
“look,” he answers, holding up a ring of keys. he offers you a hand, pulling you out of bed. “kit walker, where the hell did you get those,” you laugh, your eyes lighting up at the realization of what was about to happen. you were getting out of here! “don’t worry about that, get dressed, put some shoes on, we gotta go.”
you felt frazzled, nervous and excited all at the same time. you pull on your coat, the raggedy fabric not doing much to block out the cold. sliding into your shoes, you take kits arm, rushing quietly through the dark halls. there was stirring in a room nearby, leading the two of you to run.
you manage to make it all the way to the back door, kit flipping through the keys. “maybe we shouldn’t. we don’t have any money, where are we even supposed to go!” you begin, shushed by kit. “baby, don’t even worry about it. i know where to get some money, and as soon as we do, well get far, far away from here,” he says, his voice hushed and half-distracted as he pushes a key into the lock.
after managing to get everything undone, the door is open. “oh, god, kit,” you whisper, looking up at the dark sky. the moment was overwhelming, terrifying, but so freeing. kit is the first to step outside, dropping the keys into the overgrown grass. you follow, looking behind yourself. “we’re gonna run, okay? we’re gonna run, and we’re not gonna stop, i promise you that we’ll be okay. alright?” kit kisses your knuckles, looking up at you with those big eyes.
as soon as you nod, he’s pulling you with him. you run and run for what felt like hours, and then you’re approaching a house, a house in the middle of nowhere. “kit, where…” you begin, trailing off as soon as you started. “hey, trust me, okay? trust me,” he says back, walking up the porch steps. of course you trusted him. you just weren’t sure about whoever lived here.
kit knocks on the door, and only a few minutes later, a light turns on from inside the house. the white door swings open, revealing a young man. “well, i’ll be damned,” the mystery man whispers, reaching out to grab kit. you’re quick to step forward, halting when you see kit hug the man. “thomas, hey,” kit breathes, patting his back. “kit walker. christ, i thought i’d never see you again,” thomas laughs joyously, pulling back.
kit smiles, giving you a wink. “you know that box i gave you a while back? you still have it?” kit asks, thomas nodding immediately. “of course, yeah, it’s in the closet right here,” he confirms, walking off to the side, waving for kit to come inside. kit places his hand on the small of your back, allowing you to walk ahead of him. thomas smiles awkwardly at you, turning back to kit, handing him a cardboard box taped up and wrapped in rubber bands.
“i want you to take the truck,” thomas says, dropping car keys on top of the box as well. “oh, thomas, no, we’ll be fine,” kit denies, shaking his head. “no, i’m serious, i don’t need it. i only use it to pick up chicks. get out of here, man.” kit is hesitant to accept it, but he nods, putting a hand on thomas’s shoulder. “for the record, i never believed all that bullshit for even a second. you’re too kind. i’m so sorry this happened to you kit,” thomas frowns. kit looks at you, shrugging.
“we gotta head out,” kit says, bringing in thomas for another hug. “i’ll catch up with you soon, i promise,” he adds, his hand returning to your back pushing you out the door. thomas gives kit a goodbye, nodding at you, and you’re off again, hopping into the teal truck. “check that box f’me, sweetheart,” kit says, searching in the clove box for something to cut the tape. upon finding nothing but napkins, he hands you the car key. splitting the tape, you hand the key back to him, and he starts the truck up, pulling out of the dirt driveway.
inside the box was a wad of cash, a couple of tshirts, and a pocket knife. kit had a couple of these in random places in case of an emergency, which proved to be incredible helpful. kit peeks inside nodding. “if i remember right, that’s enough for us to get by until i can get a job. lets get way out of here,” kit sighs, driving out onto the road.
“you sure we’ll be alright, kit?”
“i’m sure, baby. get some sleep.”
“hey, wake up!”
you wake with a start, little hands shaking you gently.
“momma, i can’t sleep.”
you look down at your daughter, rosie, kit sleeping soundly next to you. you give her a sweet smile, pulling her into you and your husband’s shared bed. “i can see that,” you whisper, pushing her brown curls away from her face. “can i sleep with you,” she asks, loud as can be. you nod, doing your best to make space for her. “try to be quiet, okay? daddy’s sleeping, listen,” you grin, kit’s snores bringing rosie into a fit of quiet giggles.
her laugh made you laugh, and soon, kit’s snoring stopped, the light snores replaced by loud, dramatic snores. rosie’s giggles return, kit turning around swiftly and wrapping his arms around her, bring her to his chest. “you laughin’ at me? huh?” kit teases, drawing a squeal out of her as he tickles her little arms. you laugh as well, shaking your head at the late night antics.
“you think this is funny, mommy? get her, rosie,” kit says, your daughter wiggling out of kits arms to jump on you instead. “okay, okay, it’s late, let’s calm down. rosemary, lay down,” you chuckle. your daughter whines, giving kit a pout. “aw,” she huffs, kit wrapping his arms back around rosie. “mommy is very tired,” you sigh, though your smile never wavers. “mommy’s right. it’s late, and the faster we go to sleep, the faster we can wake up and play tomorrow,” kit says, kissing the top of her head.
of course, being the daddy’s girl she is, rosie settles, shutting her eyes. “goodnight momma,” rosie says, reaching for your hand. “goodnight, sweetheart. i love you,” you whisper. “what, no goodnight for me?” kit teases, quirking a brow. “night, daddy,” rosie giggles, turning around in his arms. “night, honey, i love you so much,” kit smiles, kissing her head again. kit mouths, “love you,” to you, shutting his eyes.
it was safe to say you loved him too.
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this was kind of caca but it’s okay i just suck at part twos
give me more requests pretty please i’ll kiss you if you do 😘😘
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cultofdixon · 1 year
Text
Perfectly “Fine”
Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • OCD - Obsessive Compulsive Disorder • Even in the apocalypse you know how to handle things in a way that keep you steady. But now the Saviors War has come to an end…and something ain’t what it used to be • ANGST/SFW • TW: Canon Violence / Panic Attacks / Nightmares / PTSD
Requested by: Anon
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“Think you can handle being with Dixon in the Sanctuary?”
“Are you asking…because it’s Daryl I’m going to be with? Or because it’s the Sanctuary”
“Mostly cuz it’s the Sanctuary. The people that suffered Negan’s wrath deserve kindness, but we also need people we trust to take out those who still believe in Negan’s ways.” Rick finishes his explanation to notice Y/N’s restless leg and the way her contoured to concern. “Y/N. If anythin’ happens. You can always radio us. Or talk to him”
It’s hard to be in a relationship
——But it wouldn’t stop me
Y/N sighs rising to her feet as she makes her way to her truck they had loaded up for the trip to the Sanctuary. Rick frowns watching her open the bed to it and double checking everything they are taking over while Daryl gives her a confused look from the side of it.
“Okay. We’re set”
“I know” Daryl states watching her face fall on her way out of the bed before closing it. Did that strike a nerve? He suddenly frowns already not liking the idea of living at the Sanctuary, but more specifically her living there as well.
Y/N followed Daryl who took lead on his bike as she couldn’t stop thinking of every possibility that could happen in the Sanctuary.
Someone could instantly kill us
——It’s fine. We took their weapons away
A root could break out
——People have straighten out since the end of the war
We should take away any chemicals that could poison us
——Don’t think any of these people know where they are
The tapping on the stick shift stopped when Y/N reached the Sanctuary. She sighs feeling a bit of relief but it didn’t take long for her anxiety to kick back in when some of the residents stepped out of the building.
“Let’s keep it organized alright? Or no stealin’ from the truck. Cuz we’ll know” Daryl states taking lead on getting everything off Y/N’s truck.
It took a few hours for either of them to settle into the Sanctuary and Daryl was surprised when Y/N offered that they’d share a room together to keep an eye on each other’s back until the dust settles.
This is purely non-romantic
——It could be
Y/N found a room that had a bed and a futon. Strange what people wanted in the end of the world. Or what people wanted in the sick twisted system that the Saviors followed. Overall just. Weird. She felt weird and uncomfortable everywhere she was in the place and couldn’t drop everything to go back to Alexandria to find her security back. Have to work on it. Finding a new security.
“The hell yea doin’?” Daryl questions Y/N who was making her bed on the futon receiving a puzzled look from her. “I’ll sleep on the couch. You take the bed”
“No I’m already…Uh.” Y/N frowns crossing her arms, her right index finger tapping her left elbow a couple times. 7 times to be exact. Before sighing and grabbing the thick blanket from the bed and tossing it over the futon. “Fine. But we’re switching every other week”
“I can work with that” the archer sighs once he sat on the couch watching Y/N crawl onto the bed curling up in herself as much as possible hugging her knees to her chest. “Rick is kind of a dick for having us do this”
“He has his reasons…” Her frown seemed to be more permanent since they’ve been there and his heart broke at the sight of it. “Do you think we’ll be safe here?”
“I don’t know”
“Oh…”
“But I promise I’ll keep yea safe” Daryl makes that promise as he watches her features relax and the frown subside.
I don’t want to be here
——But he’s here.
The Sanctuary needed a lot of work and Y/N took initiative on organizing the pantry and gun locker that had very little compared to from before. You know the reason. Daryl was helping some of the men fix the front doors that were broken do to the truck crashing into the building. They had already took care of the walkers that infested the building and cleaned up but now it was simply making it another community.
After a few hours Daryl went to check on Y/N finding her still in the pantry. To be exact it’s been three hours and Y/N had already put everything new in the pantry while keeping everything precise. Daryl couldn’t have seen anything more organized except for when the old world was still running and it used to be a person’s job to restock shelves keeping tabs on everything in stock. Pretty much saying he feels like he’s in a closet sized supermarket.
“You chart everythin’?”
“Yes. Everything is accounted—“
“Sorry I need to grab something real quick” One of the residents came running in grabbing a can of food which lead to him knocking over a couple.
“Seriously?!” Daryl yells when the guy ran off after grabbing such. “Should write—-“ he didn’t have to tell her what to do as she already realigned everything and write down the inventory number before putting the notebook away in her pack. “You’re always on top of everything”
Just bring it up. He might not like you anymore.
——Everyone else knows. He should know.
“I guess. Uh. Are we working on how to get farming going on here next or…?”
“Or. I gotta do my usual sweep. You can plan out somethin’ if yea want, I can…meet yea outside?”
Y/N nods giving him a small smile as she walks past him out of the pantry to go do such while he watches her walk away. Something is off about her… his worry made him think too much about everything she’s doing even if it seemed normal.
But it wasn’t.
Her compulsions were in the more “normal” category. Organizing over and over again. The odd number tapping patterns. The bad switched with the good with her thinking. This place made them kick into overdrive, anywhere else kept it more dormant but she felt like she was caving in in an unpredictable environment.
Rick made a mistake.
——He knows best.
Daryl thinks I’m a freak.
——He never confirmed or deny that.
I’m at my fucking limit.
——We are. Fine.
Right?
“How’s Y/N holding up in that place?” Carol questions the archer as he took Y/N’s truck to grab some of the trade from the Kingdom to help them get started with farming. “It’s a new environment”
“She’s been there before. What’s new about it?”
Carol gave him a questioning look as she thought the most observant person she knows who know by now. “It’s just a question, Daryl. How is she?”
“Fine. I think” Daryl shoves the last crate into the bed before closing the trunk. “She doesn’t talk to me if anything were to bother her”
“She internalizes just like you, Daryl” Carol states and hopefully that was enough for him to check in on her. But she should really explain to Daryl what else could be going on. “You mind if I join yea back there?”
“Don’t yea have a kid and a boyfriend?”
“Seriously?—-Yes but they’d understand if I’m gone for a few days”
“Then tell’em and I’ll be waiting.” Daryl scoffs even more confused as he gets into the car moving the things Y/N had in the passenger seat out of the way only to get a hit nosey.
This girl and her writing… Daryl had always thought Y/N was a writer of some sorts as she always had a journal in hand. Hell, when the prison fell it was the one thing she came out with and thank god he stayed a moment for her to stick with him and Beth at the time. She’s always had it with her. Never thought to ask about it. Then right now an opportunity to look in it has risen.
[Entry 54]
Today was stressful. Everything fell out of order…Carol is missing, Maggie is at the Hilltop, Daryl was taken by Negan, Rick is lost in his own mind again like back at the prison when we lost Lori, and there’s more to it. But the more I think about everything wrong, the more I want to take myself out of it. I can’t keep everything together anymore. Glenn is dead. Abraham is dead. More are going to die. He could die. Fuck I can’t. He can’t die. I don’t want him to die. It should’ve been me. It should always be me
[Entry 11]
This place is nice. We definitely do not fit in a farm house. At least Carl is fine. He’s fine. He’ll live to live in this goddamn hell again. I don’t understand how people lived as long as they have. But we’ll make this work right?
[Entry 12]
That didn’t last long.
Daryl should’ve stopped by now but he continued to read her entries and they were very…dark. He didn’t know that she’s been feeling a certain way since the quarry and it was almost always after something bad has occurred. The events have triggered her. He thought all of these entries were bad and he really wanted to stop reading, ditch Carol, and check on Y/N who he mistakenly left alone in a shithole. His anxiety only grew when he read something that brought warmth in his chest and his body to relax for a second.
It wasn’t an entry. It was a list. She likes her lists…
D.D.
He’s smarter than he looks
His tracking technique is impressive
He cares so much
The way this man gives so much for everybody else
He always brings enough for everyone
His subtle smile is perfect
He’s been through so much
He makes me feel safe
“Daryl”
The archer quickly looks up from the notebook, closing it and starting the car once Carol buckled herself in.
“You were reading her journal?”
“You know about it? What’s in it?”
“I know what could be in it. Doesn’t mean I know exactly what’s in it”
“Then explain”
“Explain what?”
“What could be in it”
“Daryl, Y/N has OCD. It’s not life threatening unless it gets bad. She writes everything down to calm herself.” Carol swiped the notebook from the archer’s grasp. “Why did you read it when you clearly didn’t know?”
“The fuck is that supposed to mean? I just thought she was…quirky?” Daryl sighs only to hear Carol scoff to the comment. “What!”
“People with mental illness still have to fight in the goddamn apocalypse. “Quirky” is offensive to some because it down plays what’s really going on”
“You know a lot”
“Daryl. You have PTSD. So do I. We have our coping mechanisms. Who do you think respects them the most?”
Her.
________
Y/N suddenly jolts awake from the futon hearing the screaming as she shot forward turning toward the sound that came from Daryl’s sleeping form. She rises from the futon and brought herself in the bed with him watching him shake in his sleep.
Daryl suddenly felt his body relax and the shaking stop as he curls up a bit in her embrace.
When the archer woke the next morning he found himself with Y/N in the bed with him. Instead of her holding him they migrated to where it was him holding her. He stayed in that position for a little while longer
________
Once the truck was parked, Carol stopped Daryl from getting out as the two look forward finding Y/N sitting on the edge of the loading dock. She heard the truck but didn’t think much of it, he was coming back that’s all she really put to thought as she looks up at the night sky.
“I’ll take care of unloading. You give that back to her” Carol handed the notebook to Daryl as he stepped out shortly after.
Her smile was the first thing he noticed as he draws closer to her, especially when it started to fade when he lifted the notebook to her line of sight handing it to her.
“Oh”
“It was in your truck when I borrowed it”
“…did you…uhm” Y/N frowns gripping the notebook in her hands tapping the back of it rapidly in another rhythmic motion. Daryl suddenly took her hands gently into his after putting the notebook to her side. Her anxiety in the moment lessen but was still there waiting for his words.
“I was worried about yea” Daryl frowns feeling her squeeze. “The longer we were here the more you didn’t wanna talk. Hell neither did I but I knew what I was feelin’…just wanted to know what you were feelin’.”
“I just…didn’t want you to think I was weird”
“Why would I think that?”
“Because OCD has always been seen like that…by everybody else. In the old world it didn’t help that movies would associate it with serial killers. Same with bipolar or schizophrenia.” Y/N frowns gripping onto him tighter as she felt the air leave her lungs trying not to over think about it but she felt like she was losing. Her anxiety caught her when Daryl pulled his hands away but before she could think of every negative thing, he brought her hands to his shoulders before bringing his forehead against hers.
“Gotta breathe for me, doll.” Daryl knew she was starting to have an anxiety attack, he wishes he could do his own research on OCD and know more so he could be more prepared. He’ll learn. He’ll learn for her, from her. All he could do right now is have her latch onto him as he helped her steady her breathing without focusing on it too much to trigger herself more.
While the archer was taking care of her, Carol kept a respectable distance from them just in case. But she never had to worry. He would understand eventually.
Months have passed and the Sanctuary was turning for the better. They had managed to get crops going where the saviors used to grave the walker graveyard, turned it into a garden for their main crop being corn that would help with gas and sustenance. The pantry has the same system as the one in Alexandria where one person would come through to do inventory and make a list for a future run. The empty cells were turned into rooms and some the doors were removed but were still used for privacy areas. It may still look very factory like but at least it wasn’t like a prison anymore.
Daryl stood outside of his old cell surprised they even changed this place for the better. His old cell being one of many solo spots to relax. A lantern, a chair or rocking chair—whatever they could find, and a small table. They looked like singular study rooms in colleges and that was the idea Y/N was going with when she thought of it.
“Hey, you ready?”
A smile was quick to form on his lips when he heard her voice. Y/N smiles warmly to the archer when he brought his arm around her shoulders kissing her forehead.
“You?”
“Mhm. I have what I need” She smiles up at the archer as he captured her lips with his. “Come on. While we still have light out”
There’s always something calming about motorcycle rides while the sun is slowly fading from the sky. Watching the sky go from bright blue to hues of orange and purple before inevitably fading to black like the end of a movie.
The difference is the sky lights up at night showing the stars that shine bright enough to get lost in her beautiful E/C eyes.
Daryl hasn’t stopped smiling since they left and when they returned it remained, unlike the other days of going to such a heavy place. But knowing that she’s safe and calm in his presence…
Everything is perfectly fine.
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lipglossanon · 8 months
Note
that reader getting kicked out and Leon picks her up ask gave me an idea (oh boy 🫣 i am a slut for plot though 🤭),,,,,, Leon goes back to the house he shared with your mom and ignores her, deadpan- cold stare just walks straight into his office and makes a few calls. you’re kept in the hotel for a few days until your mom calls, you can come back home? yep, your dad got into a Mysterious™️ accident and mom is going to visit him if you wanted to go too. your relationship with your dad wasn’t the best and you weren’t sure you could suffer through the mini trip with your mom after everything so you say no but if he gets worse you’ll visit him so you and Leon stay back. while on the trip you heard a heated phone call between your mom and Leon where she confesses she still has feelings for readers dad brought back up by the accident so Leon hangs up and spends the night digging up ~so much~ dirt on your parents. he files divorce papers while your mothers away and gets a good word in with a few people to convince 😉 your mother to give him legal guardianship over you because “your parents wouldn’t be a good fit to raise you” you heard him say while on the phone with someone else and with your dad partially out of the picture or at least being dependent on your mother here on out means Leon doesn’t have anyone else to worry about because your moms done in his mind. so like no dead parents no looming possibility of the police showing up or a guilty conscience (Leon has one? 🤔🤭) just everyone completely out of the picture ~legally~ and of course he talked to you about it as well and the last thing you wanted was to go back to living with both of your parents i mean, they got divorced for a reason and then it’d be like sweet stepdad Leon situation
- 💀
(i didn’t forget the note <3 imagine stepdaddy leon shirtless with his dog tags on in short shorts, like 80s slasher movie shorts and we all know this man uses thoughts and prayers to keep his dick in one pant leg on a good day and i feel like we all know it’s longer than the hem of the shorts he’s wearing especially if he’s hard 🤭)
💀 anon that’s like a legit means to keep everything together and you with him! 🫣 I might have to rethink on my murderdeathkill of the mom 🤔 but we’ll see. I like dark stepdad to be crazy enough to murder for us😌 🤭
AGSJSL that note’s such a wonderful addition 🥵 and like the shorts are those windbreaker type material (I can’t remember the name lmao) so they’re super flexible. You see him wearing them and can see his dickprint cause I mean he’s packing 🤭 and you just get on your knees for him and he’s already getting hard so the head peeks out from the short leg and you’re already kissing and licking the tip by the time he’s hard enough to shift the fabric up so you can suck more 😵‍💫
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mrs-monaghan · 5 months
Note
Its just so interesting to me the way the whole MS thing has played out, like for sure before the whole topic began they sat and decided how they were going to do this. Without making this all about jikook (but also kinda ;) ) I definitely do think the order and the last 4 going together was decided somewhat in their favour. Could be initially jikook were definitely going to go together but is that too obvious? So the 4 of them went together including their leader ofc. Also this way they’re going together and coming out together, saves the pain of having to see one another off. It’ll be interesting to see how the whole base thing plays out, I wonder if all 4 will be in the same base. I know people on Twitter are panicking thinking jimin will be in taemins position in terms of the harassment he suffered from, I don’t think that will be the case at all (touch wood) he can hold his own and is badass, like you mentioned my biggest fear is how jikook emotionally will handle this but they have a plan, they always do and going back to what I said earlier, a lot of thought has gone into this entire process. We’ll just wait and see :)
Armys have a reputation of being overly protective. When tkkrs are not making us look like nut jobs, people know not to fuck with BTS because that means fucking with Army.
I am not concerned about Jimin getting treated like Taemin. Not even a little bit. I think being a member of BTS means something and people will think twice before doing anything. (Also its Jimin; the gem of Korea)
Case and point the thing that took place with Jin. I guarandamntee you that might never have come out if Jin wasn't who he is. The nurse would have go10 away with it... military would have buried it. I'm sure Jin wasn't the first person that has happened to. 😡 They are ALL going to be fine....
I have speculated from jump Jikook will go in at the same time. I'm happy its all 4. That way we don't have to wait too long because activities resume.
But yeah, anon. I'm curious to see if any 2 members end up at the same base. 🥰🥰
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I don’t suppose you could do anything more in the mob wife/ sugar baby realms? I had so much fun reading those
oh anon, how could i resist the siren call of mob!wife alec when i adore it. i hope you enjoy and have more fun! thank you for the prompt
-
“My lovely, Alexander!” Magnus croons, his voice a delight to Alec’s ears after the evening he’s had and no sooner does Magnus reach him than Alec happily slumps against him. Magnus huffs out a laugh, used to Alec falling into him when he’s overwhelmed and tired.
“Oh, was it really that bad?” Magnus asks, a soft smile on his face that Alec can’t help but kiss and then he’s being rewarded for his suffering.
Magnus’ snaps away Alec’s shirt and jacket and shoes and he groans in relief at the feeling of magical hands tracing his back.
“Why is he like that?” Alec asks, because he can’t help it. “Half the time he acts like prey who knows when to hide and who to hide behind. But then the other half, he acts like he either has no self-preservation or like he thinks he’s an actual threat.”
“Did he threaten you?” Magnus teases and Alec holds back a grimace, because if he has to tell Magnus about the incident, it’s going to end in tears.
Simon’s probably.
Which makes Alec even less inclined to share because he’s seen Simon cry before and it’s a mess. A soggy, bloody mess and Alec didn’t know snot could form from coagulated blood for vampires, but it does and it's gross and he wishes he still didn’t know.
So therefore, Alec is going to bury the incident as far down as possible.
And break Simon's fingers if they ever get within six inches of him again. 
“With exhaustion, maybe.” Is all Alec will admit and he kisses Magnus’ jaw, just because it’s in reach.
“Did you learn what you needed to?”
“I think so, we’ll find out soon enough.” They take a moment, swaying together and then Alec nudges Magnus’ with his chin. “Bed?”
“Carry me?” Magnus asks, batting his lashes, his hand squeezing Alec’s bicep teasingly and Alec laughs, thrilled by the request like he always is. He sweeps Magnus up into his arms, smelling sandalwood and char.
“Busy day?” Alec asks as Magnus uses his magic to open their bedroom door.
“Oh darling, a deliciously busy one. Should I tell you? Or are you too exhausted to tend to me tonight?” 
Alec stops and stares at Magnus who smirks at him, arm looped around Alec’s neck and Alec drops him on the bed.
Magnus chuckles as Alexander continues to ignore him, stripping off his clothes and then he stands, naked and unimpressed with his arms crossed. He’s still sulking and Magnus loves to see it.
“You’re making me feel lonely, Alexander.” Magnus calls from the bed, reaching out a hand and beckoning as he slides off his robe. “Am I going to have to sleep all alone?”
The ridiculousness earns him an eye roll and the tiny upturn of Alexander’s lips before he moves closer and flops next to him. 
“I’m never too tired for you.” Alexander promises him, and Magnus politely refrains from mentioning all the times Alexander has said that same thing and then fallen trustingly asleep, overstimulated and blissed out as Magnus fucks him.
“Of course you aren’t, sayang.” Magnus purrs, and he pulls Alexander closer, hooking a leg around his and nipping at his jaw. “So let me wear you out.”
Magnus keeps his smile sharp and cold and Alexander close to his side as he enters the dining hall. It’s a long table with many seats and Magnus will take a seat of honor.  Not the head of the table, he has no wish for it, but his seat is at the right placed and expensive and a little stiff looking.
Alexander elbows him, hard knob to his ribs with a muttered, “Magnus, really?”
And Magnus sniffs because Alexander doesn’t understand the tortures of mundane furniture. For a moment, he’s tempted to let Alec suffer and find out, but he’s rather Alexander’s ass be sore for a reason different than poor carpentry. 
“Oh hush, darling.” Magnus murmurs, “our comfort is hardly a waste of magic.” Alexander sighs but nods, keeping close and his gaze watchful but not worried as he looks around. “Ah, there, I’ll introduce you.”
“Mr. Bane.” Magnus is greeted and Alec watches as many people straighten, some nervously fondling their weapons as Magnus approaches and some scowl, getting a tighter arm around their partners.
Alec rolls his eyes, like Magnus would ever allow himself to be used or abused by one of these clearly taken mundane women. Magnus has strict rules about infidelity and monogamy and while Magnus doesn’t mind having more than one partner, or a partner with others partners,  it’s only when everyone is in agreement. 
“You’ve brought a bodyguard.” The man says, surprised and nervous, eyes going between them nervously and Alec scoffs, disgust in his tone. He did not listen to Simon for three hours to be mistaken as a bodyguard. 
“Babe, really.” Alec gives the man an unimpressed look, “I thought you said you were having a meeting with intelligent people?”
Magnus laughs, deep and low and loud and everyone turns to stare. Alec understands because Magnus' delight is like a flame and everyone else is a moth, helpless but to be entranced.
“I don’t need a bodyguard, Leo.” Magnus says with a sharp, dangerous grin and his hand goes from the small of Alec’s back to around his waist. “However I’ve always enjoyed mixing pleasure with business.” 
Alec presses a kiss to Magnus’ brow because it’s true and it’s the single most aggravating thing about his husband that Alec will admit struggling with. Because there are only so many times Alec can get away with making out on a battlefield before his shadowhunters will think it’s a legitimate course of action and try it amongst themselves. 
— 
Alec sits with a group of mundane women and wonders how exactly he gets himself into these situations. 
Magnus.
Magnus is always the answer and the reason why, and it’s simply because Alec loves him.
So it’s worth it, even if it does make Alec wish a demon would show up.
��You’re with Mr. Bane?” Someone asks him and Alec thinks her name might have had a syllable.  Maybe three, but they all allude him and also he finds it intensely weird to hear someone call Magnus, Mr. Bane, when it’s not Alec flirting with him.
“Yes.” Alec says because that’s fairly obvious. He came in with Magnus and Magnus escorted him over to the group before joining the meeting. 
There’s a lull of delightful silence and then Alec is forcing himself to bite back a sigh when someone asks him.
“Where did he pick you up?” 
Alec wonders why the woman asking him looks so smug, like she’s asking him something that will embarrass him and he thinks about the safest answer.
“His club.” Alec says with a shrug, “I was taking care of a small problem and we met then.” He and Magnus talked about this and then Alec forgets their plan because he still remembers Magnus, “later when we met officially. He made an awful pun after I killed for him, it was nice.”
There’s silence and wide eyes staring at him in shock which Alec doesn’t get. He’s pretty sure both Simon and Magnus assured him that he’d fit right in and that this place was full of crime. Killing someone is his job, hardly— oh right, mundanes. 
It is for them.
“Metaphorically.” Alec adds, because that will make this better. It does, sort of. Except the conversation opener is definitely gone.
Simon told him that many mundane women were interested in plants and flowers and while Alec was surprised that they had such good taste, he also is a little out of his depth.
He’s better with magical plants than mundane and most of what he does know are herbs. So, with Simon’s warning that crime is rampant, Alec figures he’ll stick to the safest topics.
“The almond cookies are good.” There a compliment, Alec is terrible at complimenting anyone other than Magnus or children but he’s trying. “It would be perfect for hiding arsenic. Do any of you dabble?” 
There’s blank looks all around and Alec sighs because really, Simon made it sound much easier than it is to start a conversation.
Alec’s ignored for a little bit after that. Sometimes someone tries to talk to him and he’ll smile encouragingly at them only for them to stop and turn away, white-knuckled grip on their phones or dessert. 
“You really have quite the way with people.” Someone says, finally talking to him. Alec never thought he’d be grateful to be approached but if he has at least one, casual conversation, then he’ll feel this entire thing went well.
“Magnus says it’s my charm.” Alec tells her, letting his eyes crinkle at the thought of his husband and he grins, thinking of the time Magnus found Alec being attacked by a hoard of pixies because they’d tried to take Alec’s hair for something.
Alec had reacted naturally. Swatting the pixies away and skewering them on his arrows until Magnus arrived and casually incinerated them all. And then he’d told Alec it was Alec’s irresistible charm that started the whole thing.
Alec is pretty sure that’s victim blaming, which Magnus has been teaching him about, and Magnus had stared at him in surprise when he said so. And then he was laughing and kissing Alec in reward before explaining that just because it was Alec’s charm, didn’t mean it was his fault.
Alec hadn’t really been worried either way but Magnus’ kisses of reassurance had been worth the entire experience. 
“It's certainly something like that.” The woman says with a wry smile that Alec can appreciate, she holds out a hand with nails that remind Alec of Camille, long and pointed and painted a bright, cheery red. Alec prefers the sanguine of life’s blood red that Magnus uses, but he says nothing.
He’s being polite.
“I’m Alec.” He offers and when she holds out her hand, he takes it, her smaller fingers hold tightly, as if worried she won’t be able to hold on to shake and Alec just cups her hand delicately. He has no idea what kind of pressure a mundane can handle.
She looks disgruntled and Alec wonders why, skin pinched from her nails digging in and Alec rolls his eyes internally. Why people get nails like that if they’re not going to learn how to accommodate for their length and sharpness is beyond him. It’s a proper weapon if done right, but Alec’s doubtful mundanes know how to do it right.
“Natalia.” She says, hair almost as obnoxiously red as Clary’s and Alec tries not to let that influence his opinion of her. This is going to be a very long night if Alec has to deal with a bunch of differently sized Clary’s.
He appreciates the one he has to deal with permanently is as small as she is. It makes it easier for Alec to throw her over her his shoulder when he needs to drag her out of the situations she creates. 
“Magnus is such a delight. We were surprised he came with anyone,” she says, her voice lingering on his husband’s name. Which is understandable, Magnus’ very name is beautiful and an ecstasy to say. “It was nice to meet you, even if I’m sure it will only be this once.”
“Natalia!” Someone gasps but Alec doesn’t bother figuring out which woman it is.
Natalia doesn’t look abashed but she does look cowed, backing down and Alec chuckles, deep and dark because the very thought that someone thinks he’s only coming once is hilarious. 
“Oh, I’ll be around.” He says and he tilts his head and smiles, not noticing how Natalia pales under her makeup. It’s not an unusual sight when he smiles around Simon and he figures it’s just mundane nature, “Magnus is my husband, it’s my duty and honor to be by his side. Always.”
There’s a stunned silence after that and then a blonde shoos Natalia away which, rude. Alec had finally found someone to make the dreaded small talk with and she wasn’t the worst he’s had to talk to.
Imogen, Lorenzo and Clary still rank first, second and third.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” The blonde asks and Alec remembers her name is Mari, the main leader’s wife. Which makes sense, it would be better for Alec to talk to her than the redhead anyway.
She’s a beautiful woman, probably, and while Alec’s pretty sure she’s not a natural blonde, he’s learned that mundanes dye their hair. He wonders if it’s to try and distract predators, or to be a distraction. 
“I’m where Magnus is,” Alec says with a shrug, “I don’t really care about the rest of it.” Which he realizes a little too late might be insulting but it’s also the truth, because Magnus and he agreed it would be better to lie as little as possible so as not to get caught in one later.
Alec hates when Magnus has to use his memory magic, it always remind him of that first time he held Magnus’ hand and was too freaked out to appreciate it.
He mentally calls his past self an idiot.
“Oh, I see.” Mari says and smiles like she does. “What do you do?”
“I’m Magnus’.” Alec says, because there is no equivalent to his job in the mundane world that he’s willing to get into. Simon talked about seals and marines and Alec doesn’t know why pretending to be an animal or someone who studies marine life would be helpful. 
“That's all?”
“Does there need to be anything else?” He asks and his answer seems to stun many of them.
“But, couldn’t you branch out yourself, if you wanted to?” One of them asks, she’s wearing quite a few gems but Alec notes that half of them are fake or low quality and he’s pretty sure she has a weapon in her clutch. “You’re uh, well you seem like you’d do well.”
“That would be exhausting.” He tells her dryly, because Alec has more than enough responsibility and duties and he quite enjoys coming home to Magnus fussing over him and letting Alec fuss in return. “Why would I bother when Magnus gets me whatever I want without even bothering to ask if I need it?”
That seems to shock them.
“Wait, does he let you have his card?”
“No.” Alec rolls his eyes, “he offered to get me one but what am I supposed to do. Go shopping by myself?” And Alec finds he’s actually enjoying the conversation, which makes sense. He loves talking about Magnus. “That would be ridiculous, half the fun is Magnus picking everything out and drinking champagne while he decides. He knows what I like and he’s better at it.”
“You mean, he picks everything out himself and just takes time off?”
Alec rolls his eyes and reaches out to pluck a passing tray of champagne from a water and sets the whole thing on his lap. He ignores the even wider eyes and drains the first in a sip. He barely manages to refrain from throwing it behind him — Magnus’ habits are very adaptable — and sets it down instead.
“No, he randomly cancels all his appointments and then whisks me away. Last week he was supposed to have a meeting but while I was getting dressed I found a hole in a new shirt. He was furious. Canceled his entire day, tore a new one into the shop who made the clothing a new one—” Magnus had been particularly displeased as the shirt in question was supposed to be abyssal silk and protective enough that ichor wouldn’t burn through it. “He took me to a little market he’s fond of in Tibet and then we dined in Ireland.” Mundanes have planes, Magnus told him they’re even fairly fast for non-magical transportation.
“Because your shirt had a hole?” Clary 2.0 asks, and she must have eaten something that didn’t agree with her because her face in pinched in dismay.
 “Yeah.” Alec shrugs, “at least the hole made sense. I still don’t understand the time he threw out half of my new wardrobe because apparently, they’d used the wrong color of thread to bring out my eyes.”
“How, how long have you been married?”
“Oh, four months.” Alec says with a smile, “it was a small, family event. Just Magnus’ and my own and some politicians we couldn’t ignore inviting.” 
Because they’d wanted to rub their union in the Consul and the Inquisitors face. 
“You had politicians in your—” and slightly taller Clary cuts off for some reason.
Alec sighs, “my father brought some of his business partners. He works in LA. I think he’s trying to get me to move there instead. Something about Magnus and I being a breath of fresh air. But I’m pretty sure he’s just trying to get on Magnus’ good side. My father knows I only talk to him because Magnus mediates the discussions.”
Which is true, because Magnus’ magic is much less volatile than an Alexander Lightwood-Bane defending his husband against his father’s tactless remarks. Also the clave was probably involved, trying to gain a modicum of control over him and Magnus.
Alec settles into the conversation with a smirk, this is going perfectly. 
-
“How did it go?” Magnus asks, kissing Alexander’s mouth and pulling him close. “Did you miss me? Or do you have dozens of new friends to fill your time? I’ll set up outings if you do.”
Magnus swears he hears a whimper from somewhere behind him, but it’s hard to tell when Alexander’s hands are firm on his hips, almost bruising and he’s being pulled back into a longer, hungrier kiss. 
“Fine.” Alec says and to Magnus’ surprise and delight, he actually looks like he means it. “Can we go now? The portions are mundane here Magnus, I’m starving.”
Magnus is sliding an arm around Alexander’s waist, holding him close and kissing his cheek as he escorts him through the doors without a word or nod to anyone else.
“I’ll have a word with them about having better refreshments next time. There’s no sense in you being hungry for something as casual as this.”
Magnus ignores the scandalized look of the last security member they pass, because Alexander is a nephilim. Magnus should have remembered he’d need better sustenance that the dinner that was meant to be decadent but not necessarily filling. 
They get to an alley and portal away and Magnus summons food and is quietly delighted when Alexander leaves on his corset.
It means Magnus will get to take it off.
“So it wasn’t horrible?”
Alexander shrugs and takes a large mouthful of halibut and couscous.
“Simon’s rambling wasn’t all useless though it was less hopeful than we’d hoped. The small talk wasn’t horrible, I don’t think I learned anything useful but I wasn’t really trying to.  Their security is shit though. Terrible balance, one of them fell of the balcony at one point and impaled himself on the security gate.” And Magnus’ boy makes a disgusted face, “I hate how breakable mundanes are.”
Magnus blinks, trying to process exactly what happened and giving up when Alexander looks content, like there is nothing more to add. 
“Well, I suppose talent is hard to come by.” Magnus is a little dubious about just how poorly trained Leo’s men are if this is what happens to them.
Leo shrugs off his coat as he comes in. Her nails are tapping nervously against a champagne glass and he knows it’s her first drink. She makes sure she’s served sparkling apple juice around the others and acting tipsy is a second nature to her.
“So?” He asks her
“Not a cop.” She says slowly, but her eyes are worried, “I think he might be the son of someone powerful. Out in LA, maybe. “He mentioned a few things but he avoided a lot. Apparently he doesn’t really care about anything but Bane and it wasn’t an act.” She shivers a little and Leo wraps an arm around her small frame. “He’s devoted to him, so as long as we don’t cross Bane, we don’t have to worry about him. Though he’d be the best bet as leverage but, honey. I think he’s dangerous.”
Leo takes a breathe and nods. 
Truthfully, he’d been more surprised and shocked and a little taken aback that Magnus Bane, notorious for coming with no one and leaving by himself, had brought anyone with him. He’d been nervous when he’d seen them, it looked like Bane was bringing muscle. 
Someone to have his back in a way he normally didn’t need which would mean he planned on bringing trouble.
Then Bane had thrown that thought out the window. Claiming the other man as his, as if it were normal to waltz in with a man instead of a gorgeous woman. Especially not a man who looked like he could lift Leo with one hand. Then Bane had escorted the guy around like he was a lady ready to swoon or be stolen away. When dinner happened, it had been a shock to watch Bane take of his partner’s jacket and reveal that the man Leo thought might be an undercover, was wearing a tailored, expensive equivalent of a vest with a corset, riddled with tattoos covered in what were clearly the bruises of a mouth and expensive, personally tailored jewelery on his wrists and neck. 
It had been a shock, especial with how comfortable the guy had been. Acting like he was Bane’s boy through and through, eating from Bane’s fork and barely paying the rest of the table any attention. It had only been when his eyes had flickered to a bodyguard who had approached Leo from behind Bane, that Leo was sure the danger he sensed was real. 
“So Bane likes to tame tigers.” He shook his head, “none of our business then. You okay?” Marianne sighs and shakes her head.
“He uh, he’s very blunt, honey. Doesn’t seem to care much if he implicates himself and Bane it’s kinda like.” Mari sucks on her bottom lip and fidgets. “It’s like he’s daring anyone to try. Cause he knows he’ll win and that’ll you’ll regret it. Like nothing can touch him, either of them.”
Leo shudders at that thought and wonders, as he rarely lets himself do, just who Bane is and what hell he crawled out of and which one he dragged his new sidepiece from. 
113 notes · View notes
magic-hcs · 2 years
Note
*slams hands on table*
It's angst time!
The couple has their first big argument and in the heat of the moment skele says some hurtful things while hurting s/o physically too, if you're not comfy with a slap, then maybe a shove. s/o only holds the painful spot and looks at them heartbroken and fear in their eyes before turning around and silently walk away from them, hiding the building tears. 💔
With Charon, Red, Syrup and one of your choices!
*rubs hands together evilly* good idea anon. Let’s make these boys suffer😈
Warnings: shouting, cursing, arguments, hurtful words, pushing, mention of not being able to breathe for a moment, angst
Red: UF sans
Syrup: US papyrus
Charon: UF papyrus
Razzle: SF Sans
Let’s cast some magic and see what we’ll get! ✨
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✨✨
Red: “shuddap with yer fucking ‘everything is going to be fine’ attitude! stars, how’d i ever see something in ya, yer so god damn annoying.”
Red feels his soul ache the moment he said it. It started to crumble as he saw the hurt and unshed tears inside your eyes. He didn’t mean it, he regretted it the moment the words left his teeth. Red wants to take them back and move to hold you, afraid that if he doesn’t you’ll leave forever. But that side of him has been shoved in the back while the anger has taken the front row seat. And it was unwilling to relent its control to the more sensible part of him. It had been itching to take the wheel with every little mistake that happened today.
“Y-you…you can’t mean that…surely.” Your voice is so quiet Red almost didn’t hear it. The anger has left you as you tried to mostly reassure yourself that this wasn’t true. The sensible part of Red noticed the subtle movement of your arms going to hug yourself. Red feels as if he’s surrounded by an ocean of dark, heavy water. It’s dragging him down ever deeper into its abyss, he’s suffocating with no way to correct the wrongs.
Red had never hated himself that much then right in this moment.
“keep telling yerself that, sweetheart.”
Red stands corrected.
He wanted to punch himself. Restrain himself. Anything to stop the lies he hears coming from his own voice. He doesn’t want to listen to it anymore, and goes to cover his non-existent ears. Becoming surprised when he finds himself actually covering the sides of his head. The lies have stopped and Red feels relieved. Until he sees your face.
Your lips had been moving, and a hand had been placed on his shoulder. The concern and sadness in your eyes and expression faded away into hurt. Before that hurt transforms into guilt for half a second, and then anger.
You had been talking.
Red feels your hand clenching just a bit tighter on his shoulder. Magic is crackling in the air. His next action was a reflex.
“don’t fucking touch me!”
Red’s eyesockets widened as he watched in slow motion how your body got engulfed by a dark red hue. He wasn’t fast enough to stop his arm from swinging. It just took a second for the magic to respond. But once it did, Red felt his entire being go cold. Your body got slammed into the wall, hard. Red swears he hears a crunch echo throughout the room as you fell limp. The only indication that you were alive was the desperate gulps of air you took. By the fear in your eyes it was certain your lungs were unable to absorb the oxygen from the gulps of air.
Fear grabbed Red’s plummeting soul in a vice grip, jagging its claws in it and not letting go.
“babe!” Red exclaims, rushing over to help you in any way he could. His panting is erratic as he slides the last bit of distance on his knees. He goes to hold you but you slap him away. It wasn’t a slap filled with any strength, yet it was enough to render Red frozen in place. He watched you struggle to get up, watched as you finally were able to really breathe again, watched as you glared down at him, tears trailing down your face. “S-stay-“ you coughed, voice hoarse and breaking. “Stay. The. Fuck. Away from me.”
Red didn’t dare move from his position on the floor as he watches you limp out the room. Passing by the messed up cake - the cake meant to be a surprise for you - on the table. The words were misspelled, but it was an easy fix.
Unlike the unfixable mess Red just made… And all he had to blame, was himself and his short temper.
✨✨
Syrup: “Don’t you walk away from me Syrup!” You call out to him as he power walks away from his problems like always. Damn him and his long ass legs. Where’s that godforsaken air which he always trips over at the most inconvenient times when you actually need it?
“You can’t keep avoiding this problem, Syrup!”
“watch me.”
“God dammit Syrup, stop acting childish and actually listen to me!”
You grab his hand, which he snatches back almost immediately. “i’m not childish.” Now he partly faces you, waiting. His expression is troubled, a mixture of many emotions, you could make out a few of them: nervousness, frustration and ruefulness. At least he’s hearing you out now hopefully.
“What the heck was that back there?” You ask, already able to guess the answer. But it would better to hear it from Syrup himself.
He scoffs. Looking as if he’s already done with the conversation. “sibling squabble obviously, honey. you got healthy eyes dont you?” Syrups snarks. Turning to face you fully now, teeth half way parted in a sneer. His shoulders were tense, he may have had his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, but he looked ready to lunge at any moment. Like a predator - no - like a cornered animal.
You ignored the sharp pang inside your chest and the horrible twists - like a knife - turning inside your stomach. He could’ve ditched the insult in your opinion. But that’s not here and now, you could get angry and lick the wound- which was deeper then you would like to admit - later.
You tried to keep the frustration out of your voice: “That-! That was not just a sibling squabble. Whatever that was that I just witnessed, was down right vicious. To both parties involved.” Your making motions with your hands to illustrate both what you saw and what your feeling right now. Syrup is glaring down at you as he goes to stand in your personal space. “then don’t watch or stick your nose in business it doesn’t belong.” He almost growls out. Too lost in both the heat and emotions from the fight he just had with his brother and this one to think clearly.
Magic is crackling in the air like a firecracker about to explode, you don’t notice it.
“I can’t.” You hiss through your teeth, fist clenching. You feel your skin and brain boiling. “I live here too.”
“then maybe you should pack you things and leave,”
His words were a slap to the face, your left stunned in place. Eyes widened in shock and betrayal. Syrup had been the one who kept insisting that you should live with both him and his brother. He had been the one who dramatically claimed he missed you so much when you were away.
“good riddance.”
You don’t see how Syrup staggers in horror at his own words. As if not being able to believe what he just said. You don’t notice how he slaps a hand against his teeth. You only saw the color red. You don’t hear the muffled whispers forming an unfinished: “i-i, i didn’t….i’m sor-“ for the blood pulsing through your ringing ears drowns out the sound. You don’t notice you’re already storming towards him until your right in his face.
“FUCK YOU! YOU ASSHOLE!” It leaves your mouth before you register it. Your hands move on their own, pushing Syrup with all the strength you could muster, you don’t notice the tears stinging your eyes. Syrup staggers. His shocked and horrified expression turns into rage. He pushes back. But just a bit too hard, with just a bit too much magic mixed in. You’re hurled back, landing unfortunately on your side.
Everything is quiet as your gasping for breath. Once air returns you, you stumble to your feet. Tears freely flowing down your cheeks. Your body hurts, but your heart is hurting much more. You leave Syrup alone with his guilt, his grief and some last words. “Don’t think of finding me until you got your shit straight.”
✨✨
Charon: “I Do Not Understand What You’re Going On About. I Handled It.” Charon huffs while opening the door for you to walk through. You hissed out a thanks through your teeth. It was a rule the two of you had made pretty early on; even while in disagreement, you would still treat eachother with respect.
“Oh, handling it you did indeed. By losing your temper and throwing the guy through a window!” You seethed. Charon could tell by the way you paced back and forth in the room of your shared apartment that you were trying your hardest to keep your calm. He could feel his patience starting to slip as well. Grinding his teeth together before answering. “See! I Handled It!” He says while gesturing a hand towards you. “You Just Admitted It! Why Keep Bringing It Up If We Are On The Same Page!?”
You snapped your body around and moved into his space. Charon tried to move back but you followed him. “It’s the way how you handled it!” The skeleton in question glared down at the finger you used to jab into his chest. Noticing his glare you snatch your finger away as if the fabric of his clothes burned you. You looked apologetic, guilt flooded into your eyes and opening your mouth to properly apologize. But the frustration from the unfinished argument was just a bit faster. An inhuman growl and shout came out your mouth, followed by a: “Goddammit, Charon!” You put some distance between the two of you, for both your sakes. Taking a deep breath and holding it in for a second before releasing it all in one go. Pressing your fingers against your lips you stare at the floor.
Charon wasn’t fairing any better then you in the ‘keep-emotions-in-check’ sector. Feeling his magic bubble and flare with every deep breath he’s forcing himself to take. The adrenaline from the situation that had started this argument was still coursing through his bone marrow. And it didn’t do him any favors in the long run. Mind blank with the only instincts chanting to ‘strike first before being struck down’ left to keep him semi functional were unhelpful to say the least. He couldn’t think clearly, only thoughts of wanting to keep you safe running through his mind. Why couldn’t you get it? Why did you want to be such a pacifist?
You spoke up again. “What you did to that guy…” there’s a pause, you’re gathering your thoughts to form a sentence that wouldn’t trigger the both of you before continuing. “What you did…is no way we handle things here. Maybe it had been down there, but not here.” You avert your gaze, directing it to the floor. The fire within you has been put out, you looked so tired. Charon stares intensely at your exhausted form.
You would’ve been dust within seconds…
“Fucking hell, Charon. This is so fucking complicated…why couldn’t you just keep your goddamn promise for once.”
The way your voice sounded so broken set something off in Charon’s mind. Without knowing what’s he’s doing, he lunged at you. Pushing you against the wall with his hand clenched over your clothes. You stare at him with fear. But Charon doesn’t notice, terror grips at him.
‘don’t pick a fight and lose the will mid way.’
“DO NOT SPEAK LIKE THAT TO ME!”
‘never take yer eyes off the person infront of ya.’
“DO NOT AVERT YOUR GAZE!”
‘never show yer weakened state to anyone, paps.’
“DO NOT SHOW YOUR WEAKNESS TO ANYONE!”
Charon isn’t completely there. Repeating the rules Red had drilled into him since his early childhood in a desperate plea for you to defend yourself. Forgetting he’s no longer underground, but instead on the surface. Once Charon meets your eyes does he still. Your eyes were filled with fear…Fear.
Fear, not of what he was warning you for…but fear of him…you were scared of him…
He realizes he’s been holding you up in the air by your shirt, eyesockets widened in horror he snatches it back, holding his hand against his chest. He stares at it. Not hearing what you said with a hoarse voice.
An emotional massacre is raging inside Charon’s own mind. Self hate, remorse, and hurt fighting for forefront seat like rabid dogs.
He’s staggering away from you as you try to ask what’s going on. Your still willing to give him a chance, but he ruins the last sprinkle of hope all on his own.
“DO NOT COME CLOSER IF YOU VALUE YOUR MISERABLE LIFE, HUMAN.”
He hasn’t called you human ever since the two of you had the first ever deep emotional talk.
Charon could see by the look on your face that he just set fire to the last bridge the two of you painstakingly build together. And he has to close his sockets to refrain himself from taking it all back. You deserve better.
“YOUR CARING CHARADE SICKEN ME, GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!”
He actually really loved how much you cared about him, despite his many unforgivable faults. He’s holding in his breath until he hears you running away. Once the door slams shut did he Charon let go. Sinking to the floor he feels his soul tremble. He automatically goes to put magic into enhancing his hearing, listening for you. Only now, your not happily giggling after receiving a goodbye kiss from him. Your weeping while running away from the house as fast as you could.
Once he can’t hear you anymore does he snap. Letting his soul take the reign it lashes out in fury, self-loathing, grief and heart-ache. The feelings tears an inhumane roar from him as bones shoot out from the ground around him. He’s destroying it all, destroying every memory, every thought of you that remained.
He sags to the floor defeated.
A little voice in his mind - once drowned out by the others- whispers to him that breaks him all over again.
What was this fight really about if not the fear of hurting and losing one another?
✨✨
Razzle: Razzle was sometimes a bit protective. You knew this very well. He even warned you about it before letting you commit to a relationship with him.
But this was going too far.
Razzle’s been refusing to let you go to work ever since the broadcast on tv, stating a terrorist group has been targeting work places similar to yours. Don’t understand wrong, you get why he would ask you to work from home when the terrorist attacks were getting near your work place. What you don’t get however, is that he still refused to let you go to work again after the terrorist attacks were getting further away from your work location.
Ok, he may be a concerned about the possibility of the terrorists coming back, fine, you’ll go along with it for another two weeks to put his mind at ease.
But then came the straw that broke the camel’s back: You were supposed to have meetings with your team online while Razzle stood in the corner like a creep overseeing the entire thing.
What the hell is going through his mind that makes that a logical course of action?
So here you are, trying to get a straight answer out of him instead of the vague statements you didn’t have any use for. It doesn’t go smoothly and both your stubbornness and perseverance caused this conversation to go down hill fast. It turned into a heated shouting match about absolutely nothing and everything at the same time.
“Why are you like this!? I’m not a fragile child in need of protecting, I’m my own independent person!” You cried out in frustration. Razzle clicked his non-existent tongue in response. “HARDLY MY DEAR. YOU ARE LIKE A HEADLESS CHICKEN IN A CROWDED PLACE WITHOUT ME TO BE YOUR MAP!” Razzle sneers, rolling his eyelights. “YOU ARE LOST WITHOUT ME.”
That was a low blow even for him. He knew you got insecure about your horrible sense of directions sometimes. Was him reassuring you it didn’t bother him in the slightest - he was rather happy to aid you whenever you needed it - just a lie to make you feel better?
New fresh sadness and rage fueled your veins, your mind was racing and you shouted out the first words that came to mind.
“I HATE YOU, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!”
You did not let the exact words you’ve just said sink in, nor did you wait for Razzle’s reaction - whose eyelights seemed to shrink till they became tiny dots in a black abyss, the levender color has slightly faded into a gray, his expression was that of someone who just saw their world crumble and collapse - turning to hurry away from both Razzle and this heartache.
But fear had overtaken Razzle, he was hurt, he was scared, he didn’t want you to leave. You’re one of the best things that happened to him - besides Coal and Mastiff - he couldn’t lose you like this. Never like this. Razzle hurries to follow you, reaching out to grab your arm. He didn’t know his own strength. Squeezing just a tad to hard, he ends up jagging his sharp claws into your skin. (Of all the times Razzle didn’t wear gloves, why had it to be this specific day?)
Your scream in pain renders him frozen. Snatching his hand back, staring at it as if it was something horrific. He doesn’t hear your exact words, it’s being drowned out by the deafening sound of ringing. His head snaps up to you, your almost out the door, Razzle tries to apologize but his non-existent throat is closed up. And it’s too late anyways, you slammed the door shut. The ache in his soul brings him to his knees, unable to support the weight that just got slammed into him. He doesn’t know what to do, his soul is cracking, and all he has to blame for is himself.
✨✨
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Thank you for participating in this spell, I hope it was to your satisfaction!
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Is it normal to.. not want DID? I’m the host / primary fronted of our system, and I hate it. I don’t remember our trauma or splitting, so from my perspective, I woke up with eight months of my life robbed from me.
I just feel so dehumanized. I’m not even a person, just a disorder.
Yes, it is very normal to not want DID. This disorder is heavily stigmatized, misunderstood by the public, and comes with a host of scary, often debilitating symptoms, not to mention a history of repeated trauma in childhood.
We have DID. We don’t want this. We never wanted this. If we could somehow change our diagnosis, go back in time to stop our trauma from happening, or keep ourselves from dissociating and splitting as a toddler, we would do so in an instant. You’re not alone in feeling upset about the disorder you suffer with.
Some alters in our system actually wrote a positivity post for those who don’t want DID. We’ll include the link; perhaps it may bring some solace to you.
It’s true, there is hope for those of us with DID. We are people, even if it doesn’t always feel that way. We are capable of healing, of enjoying our systems, of bonding with our alters and appreciating aspects of the disorder that makes us who we are. But that doesn’t mean that life with a complex dissociative disorder like DID is easy, or that it’s “fun” or “cool” to live with such a serious mental illness. Your negative feelings surrounding your diagnosis are valid, and you should not be afraid to feel them to the fullest.
Anon, we’re so sorry you’re missing out on your life due to your disorder. We find ourselves in a very similar situation. We wish you peace, healing, personal autonomy, and trust in your alters as you all strive for a better life together.
💫 Parker and 🖋 Cecil
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i-sveikata · 3 months
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now that vegas’ father is dead and he is free, i wonder how unhinged he is gonna be lmao poor pete, is he aware of the fact that there’s nothing holding vegas back anymore 😔😔 what if he comes with a ring and says hi husband now that my dad is gone let’s rule the minor family together and get married so that you can take my surname too and we’ll be equals and live together and ever 👉👈
hey anon that is a very good point but i do think vegas is going to need some time to grieve his father before he can see the bright side of things tbh i do see him sinking into a bit of depression following his waking up. like he revolved his whole world around getting his father's approval and his father basically died without giving it so he has to contend with the aching hole thats now left in him (no matter how much eventually he will start to understand hes much better off and can be a lot happier without his father breathing down his neck and controlling his life) because at the end of the day mr kan was the only father hes ever known and he was nowhere near the idea of breaking off from him entirely/ cutting his father out of his life so he has to instead try and deal with this massive lack of closure or feeling like he never really escaped the circumstances. he'll see it like somehow hes the one who fucked up and who failed his father in the end. because his father never took responsibility for any of his shitty actions and instead pushed his failures onto vegas and macau and literally anyone else he could blame but himself. so vegas is still in the habit of internalising that (although pete has been a very significant bright spot in starting to change that mindset around for him)
its very hard to unlearn the abuse hes suffered his entire life so hes going to be ruminating over his failures with the coup and how it all went wrong and what he might have done instead to keep his father alive. he'll likely be feeling extremely uncomfortable and out of sorts being injured and in pain on top of feeling helpless and weak. And then to pile on to that hes also worried about how far he pushed his relationship with pete by ditching him at that last second during the coup and what that means for petes ability to trust him and then he'll also be anxious about being in petes world, injured and unable to present himself with power and confidence like hed usually prefer to mask himself and then he's also going to be hugely preoccupied with petes grandmother and trying to impress her. constantly worrying whether she will accept him as petes potential partner.
so basically hes got a lot of emotion to work through before all of his unhinged comes out lol. but i mean its vegas of course were still going to see him being super inappropriate about Pete and crossing all of the boundaries because he is, predictably, a mess
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hyunjinspark · 4 months
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JADE 🗣️🗣️🗣��
the screaming anon is back (what I’m now calling myself) & I just have to say…
ch. 18? the angst? the heartbreak? THE PHOTO BOOTH PICTURES??? the argument beside the train? the fact that her professor was a fucking creep? all of it.
the wait for this chapter was so worth it. the way you pieced everything together was incredible. the way that still, with everything going on between them, your writing reminds us that Hyunjin & y/n are the only two people who truly see each other. nothing else matters when it comes to them & I find that so imperative to remember as a reader. & the way that you convey their hurt & how we’re able to physically feel that heaviness & hurt & frustration alongside of them??? but somehow still feeling light whenever a laugh or a smile between the two is mentioned??? wheeew bestie, I feel it all. not to mention how heavy & exhausting it felt to be reading Hyun’s POV. like I felt so bad for him & all he wanted to do was see but also protect y/n. 😭
I had a feeling that it was the professor who was going to make some kind of pass at her, & I was completely devastated to read this, and to feel her devastation & confusion & terror was heartbreaking & unfortunately familiar due to something similar happening to me. but!! I trust you & your writing & the life that you’ve created for Hyun & y/n so I have a feeling that all of this is just the catalyst to come back together somehow. that Hyun is going to show up & be the steadfast anchor that she needs in the middle of this storm. to ease her mind & kiss her doubts & fears away. my god. 😭
& I’m sorry to bring it up again, but the photo booth pictures!!! her copy is ruined & I feel so ridiculous for sobbing when I read that they were crushed in the process but they have to make a comeback, right? like hyun has another copy & we’ll get the full explanation of how he got them?? maybe???
I love this story down to my bones & I will never not be obsessed with it. my love for it grows with each chapter & ch. 18 is just another example as to why. thank you for sharing this with us. for trusting us with your words & your creativity. for providing a story that feels like a friend & a comfort & a cozy place to reside. I hope you’re happy & healthy & are looking forward to the new year. thank you for all that you do. ♡
welcome back !! 🗣️🗣️
ohh this is such a sweet review. they are the core of the story so despite the misunderstandings, ofc they still belong together 🙁 its a relief to hear that it still conveys their bond, amongst everything going on !
im sorry to hear about that ! the professor truly sucks but yes all of that is a catalyst for everything else to come, it was also not meant to be “random” suffering for the sake of angst and i hope it doesnt come off as that 😭 it is an important plot point to the arc of the story and how everything will fall into place.
hyun definitely needs to be that anchor :( im glad you are fixated on the photobooth pictures,,, hopefully there is the other copy…
thank you for this message 🥺 i reread it a lot, and it made me feel happy.
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peachesofteal · 10 months
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Hi anon who asked if Darlings relationship is sustainable! I really love the points you mentioned in the answer because on one hand dang to be loved by two people but also knowing they were a perfectly fine item before you is just algbsbel
Personally, I'd really love if Darling could slowly accept their love but I understand her pain and insecurity very well. If I were in her shoes I think I'd need to have some space to sort myself out and go to therapy. God I just love the three of them and want to study them under a microscope ajdbajflvfdk
I want to tear them apart and see what makes them tick and then put them back together so I relate to the microscope. I think if/once Darling got it together, their relationship could be so fucking good, without all the suffering. We’ll have to see! 🩵🩵
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zablife · 1 year
Text
Wedlock (Part 6)
Jack Nelson x female reader
Summary: When your father’s business begins to suffer he makes an agreement to marry you to Jack Nelson in a bid to combine wealth and power. However, now another notorious gangster has his eye on you.
Author’s Note: This was requested by a lovely anon who asked for Jack in an arranged marriage AU.
Warnings: language, false imprisonment, groping
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Part 5
The phone rang in Michael’s office and he picked up the receiver with a smirk, knowing it could only be Jack Nelson at this time of morning.
“You’ve made your point, Michael. Now I want to know where my fiance is,” Jack said, voice tense with anger.
“Of course, Jack. We’ll have to discuss business first, but you’ll have her when that’s sorted,” Michael said, leaning back in his chair. He kicked his feet up on his desk, feeling confident the negotiations would turn in his favor.
On the other end of the line, Jack was clenching his jaw tightly. What did this fucking kid want? He wondered. “I told you I had a deal worked out with Tommy so would you mind explaining what the fuck you want?” Jack demanded.
Michael eyed the frosted glass in his door to be sure no one was listening before he continued. “It’s no secret here and in America that my cousin is no longer the formidable man he used to be. I’m surprised you hadn’t heard before you started making plans.”
“What are you talking about?” Jack said growing impatient at Michael’s riddles and games. 
“He’s spent in the head. He’s carried on far longer than he should have after everything. The war…the smoke and the whisky. That’s why I’m taking over as head of the company now,” he said confidently.
Jack snorted as he put the pieces together in his head. “That’s what my niece sees in you then,” he mumbled. Speaking up he offered advice next, “You know, kid, I’ll say this for you, you’ve got balls tryin’ to fill Tommy’s shoes. A word of advice though, Gina won’t stick around if you fail,” he warned.
Micheal clenched his fist over the phone, tightening until his knuckles turned white and attempted to regain control over the conversation. “I thought we were discussing your fiance, Mr. Nelson. If you’re serious about her, you’ll sign over thirty-five percent of your company to me or there’s no deal. Offer stands until tomorrow morning at this time or she dies.”
Before Jack could protest, the line went dead and Jack threw the phone against the wall. “Fuck!” he yelled. Perhaps he had underestimated this member of the Shelby clan. 
—————————————————-
The darkness of the warehouse gave way to bright, white light and you shielded your eyes against it with your hand. The young man who had abducted you on the street was at your side, attempting to grasp your elbow and you cowered away from him. “Please, no,” you begged, afraid of what he might do to you. 
“No nasty surprises today, love. I’m only taking you down the road to the boss,” he explained in the same calm manner he’d used before. His attempt to sound charming chilled you and as he reached a hand to the small of your back to guide you, you felt your skin crawl at the contact. Although you were trying to remain calm, a tear slipped down your cheek and you pulled your handkerchief from your sleeve. It was the one item of your own you’d been allowed to keep. Dabbing at your eyes as best you could with tied hands, you tried to take a deep breath, wondering what Mr. Shelby wanted from you. Lost in thought, you tripped over the cobblestones, dropping your handkerchief in the dirt. Isaiah hauled you up before you could hit the ground and you allowed it, too afraid to resist him.
When you arrived at what looked to be an office building, you were escorted into a large room with a roaring fire. Tommy was waiting, drink in hand and waved Isaiah away. It was like being escorted to see a king, except you were keenly aware of your status as his prisoner and the discomfort of the situation quickly settled into you as he gestured toward a chair. Looking around you for any possible means of escape, you sat perched on the edge of your seat. He must have read your thoughts because he took one look at you and asked, “Going somewhere, Miss Y/l/n?” 
You locked eyes with him and gathered your courage before replying, “My father’s debts with you have been settled, Mr. Shelby. Why do you insist on keeping me here?”
Tommy took a swig of his whisky and sucked his teeth in contemplation. “You get down to business rather quickly, don’t you? It's a pity your father doesn't have the same sensibilities,” he said, speaking into his glass as his finger traced the rim. “I had planned on offering you a drink so we might get to know one another, but if you'd prefer something more direct I’ll get to it. What I’d like to know is why you’ve aligned yourself with a man like Jack Nelson?” he asked, knitting his brow in apparent confusion. Then looking up into your eyes he added solemnly, “When you could be with a man like me.” His crystal blue eyes hypnotized you into a state of temporary paralysis. That had been quite direct. 
A man like him, you wondered. What did he know about love and devotion? Everyone knew he’d gotten his first wife killed months after their wedding in a gang war. It had been splashed across the papers for weeks. You might have laughed in his face if the very notion of it hadn’t been so tragic. Yet here he sat, presenting this to you as though it were a viable option for happiness.
"What kind of life would that be, Mr. Shelby?" you asked.
Tommy rose from his seat and stood behind you, brushing the hair from your neck gently with two fingers as he replied, "One of safety and security for you and your family, of course." You attempted to turn to watch him, but he placed a firm hand on your shoulder keeping you still. "I'll move you to a suite at the Midland until the wedding so long as I know you'll be loyal," he said, squeezing your flesh until you winced.
"I see," you replied, swallowing harshly. "And what of Mr. Nelson?" you couldn't help but ask.
"He'll be dealt with," he said, allowing his hand to drift downward to caress the side of your breast, idly stroking his thumb along the seam in a way that made you feel sick to your stomach.
"And if I refuse?" you asked in a quiet voice as you stared ahead numbly. You felt the burn in your scalp before you registered Tommy's large hand wound in your hair at the base of your skull jerking you backwards. He glared at you from the awkward angle and spat, "You'd prefer Isaiah to come and throw you back into the darkness, eh? Would that be a better offer?"
You found yourself breathing heavily as your pulse climbed, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You tried to shake your head, but found you were unable to turn within the confines of his tight grasp. "N-n-no, not that," you whimpered.
"What was that?" he asked cruelly.
"No, I don't want to go back there," you said as he released his hold.
"Then we're in agreement," he said with a sickening grin.
——————————————
As Jack made his way to Shelby Company Limited he felt his anger building to a crescendo. His pace quickened as he reached the address he’d been given, polished shoes hitting the cobblestones in time with his heart beat. The words from his informants rang in his ears as he thought of you being hauled from a filthy warehouse. He couldn’t believe the Shelbys had the audacity to treat you that way.
As he rounded the corner, a light blue handkerchief caught his eye. It lay crumpled on the ground near the door and he picked it up hesitantly, noticing the delicate embroidery with your intricate monogram stitched in white. He held it tightly in his fist and his heart thrilled at the notion of you being close by. With renewed energy, he barreled through the front door of the Shelby Company, demanding, “Where’s Tommy Shelby?”
A frightened secretary pointed to the frosted glass doors that separated Tommy’s office and Jack didn’t hesitate to push through them, finding Tommy sitting at his desk and smoking leisurely, completely undisturbed by the outburst. “Good morning, Mr. Nelson,” Tommy said in a casual tone.
Incensed by his haughty demeanor, Jack raged at him, “You fucking prick, sitting here enjoying yourself while you’ve been treating my fiance like an animal. And for what? Another share, you greedy bastard?” 
Tommy leaned forward, extinguishing his cigarette in the glass ashtray carefully. Any amusement he felt at Jack’s display of emotion was gone now as he pondered the question before him. Standing to straighten his vest he cocked his head and pinched the bridge of his nose asking, “What are you saying?”
“I’m talking about shaking me down for money after we already made a deal,” Jack replied. Although his rage began to subside as he realized Tommy hadn’t been a part of the plan with Michael after all. Deciding he could exploit this weakness in Tommy’s organization, Jack added, “You don’t know, do you?” Jack huffed out a little laugh at the great Tommy Shelby being clueless to the coup being staged around him.
“Family can be your greatest strength or your biggest weakness,” Jack declared, watching as Tommy’s jaw clenched tightly and continued with his taunts. “This new generation is arrogant. Believe me, I understand,” Jack said, laying a hand over his heart. “My niece, Gina, thinks she could run the whole world, but she doesn’t know shit,” he said, producing an empty hand theatrically. “Kind of like your Michael,” he added, holding Tommy’s gaze for emphasis. “There are things I could tell you about him that would clarify where his loyalties lie, but first, I’d like to see my girl,” Jack said, a triumphant smile plastered to his face.
Tommy’s momentary look of unease had been replaced by it’s usual stoicism as he replied, “I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Mr. Nelson. You see, whatever you thought you’d accomplish with your visit today has made no difference to Miss y/l/n’s decision.”
“And what would that be?” Jack asked impatiently. 
“Her decision to become Mrs. Thomas Shelby,” Tommy replied cooly.
Cont. reading Part 7
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Tag list:
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@evita-shelby
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@l1-l4
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