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physicalturian · 3 years

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[G] Gentle summer - Rengoku Kyojuro x GN!Reader - Part 2

[Contains spoilers from the movie, and the manga] [No pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18]

Words : 10 317

Archive of our own

Warnings : Blood / Injuries / PTSD

--- Part 1 -

I do not care. I do not care. I kept repeating to myself when I felt the two little hands nudging my thigh. My name was called in the hope of waking me, little did they know I was fully awake but did not wish to wake up. I was trying my hardest to keep my eyes shut, it was in vain when Naho mentioned him, “The Wind Pillar has arrived at the mansion and is looking for you, he seems to be in a foul mood and-“ “No need to say more, this man is always in a foul mood but I will get him. You can leave, thank you Naho,” She gave me a curt nod and stood up, pausing mid-way to the door when she giggled and smiled at me before looking next to me and hurrying off.

Something was holding me back from fully sitting up. It was heavy, and as I tried to move my hand I realized it was wet. Slowly turning my head, I covered my mouth to hold back a laugh. The sight was hilarious, Kyojuro was laying the lower half of his body on the futon while the top half was on the tatami. His hand was still holding mine, but he was now resting his cheek on it too, drooling. As much as I found the situation adorable, it worried me that he was laying on his stomach. “Kyojuro, would you please wake up?”

I patted his cheek to get him to react, nothing. Pinching it lightly did nothing either. “It is still morning, do not make me yell,” I mumbled as I hesitantly ran my hand through his hair. It was soft, with a lot of knots, but still enjoyable if I did not thread my fingers, that is. “I have a lot of patience, but as cute as this is, you are sleeping on your stomach and I will not have it,” Without much gentleness, I slipped my hand out of his, earning a sleepy grunt from the man when his cheek hit the tatami. Looking at the time, I hurried to help the man back on his back and onto his futon, then left the room after putting my futon away once I made sure his wound was alright.

Knowing Sanemi, he would not give me time to get changed once I’m in his vicinity, so I made a detour to get dressed in my kimono, without forgetting my sword, before going exactly where I knew he’d be. There was no way to deal with this man with gentleness, usually Shinobu or Aoi would take care of the Pillars when I was busy but not him. They did not want to waste time with him.

Entering the dojo, I did not knock to warn him of my presence, I slid the door open with force before closing it the same way. “You are bleeding over the tatami,” I stated to the man who was training, blood dripping from his open wounds. My stare was not one of someone afraid of the violent man, but of someone annoyed to the bone. “I wouldn’t be here if you had arrived sooner,” He snapped, slashing more decoys, his eyes ever so filled with rage.

“I am here now, stop moving,” Aoi must have sneaked in earlier to put the necessary to treat his wounds, which explained the tray with medical necessities. While Rengoku did not listen to me out of air-headedness, Sanemi did not listen out of spite. He had heard me perfectly well but was being his usual self. It’s with a sigh that I unwrapped the additional sash around my waist and used it to tie my sleeves out of the way, “Why is it always like this with you?” I asked once I was done.

He faced me with a maniac grin, “It’s more entertaining like that, come at me,” it was always the same. The man was fully aware his wounds needed treatment, but if the attention was not given the moment he arrived at the Butterfly Mansion, he would go on about his life, untreated. Using brute force was the only way to get him to stay put, and that’s what I did, it was not a serious fight, far from it. No breathing technique were used, a simple sword fight. But even with a gash on his arm, Sanemi was strong, he was an amazing swordsman.

The loud clash of the metal colliding was repetitive, consistent, it was accompanied by long sounds of the same metal as our swords slid against one another. The closeness of our faces was paralleled by our swords pushing with force against the other. “I have barely woken up, I am in no mood to entertain you any longer, just drop your sword,” I grunted, trying hard to match the force with which he pushed against my blade.

“I don’t care,” He pushed once more then stepped back, when I almost tripped, I still caught a glimpse of the wince that flashed on his face before disappearing. “You are weak,” He spat, running at me again, I did not step down. “I might not be a Pillar, but I am not weak,” I said casually, this time gaining the control as I pushed him back, holding my sword with one hand as I moved my free one to grab his arm roughly. It made him moan in pain, but he did not let go of his sword.

“You play dirty-“ “It is to match the state you put the dojo in,” I said playfully. As humorous as I was trying to be, I knew he was going to stop fighting soon enough to let me treat him, but I did not appreciate the disrespect of ransacking this place for entertainment. “It’s just blood, who cares,” He shrugged, stepping away from me as he let his sword drop by his side, sheathing it away.

Mirroring him, I did the same, my back facing him as I took the tray from the ground and joined the man’s side. He had slumped down on the ground gracelessly, his sleeve rolled up, “Clearly, you are not the one cleaning it. Are you not aware of how hard it is to get blood off the tatami straw?” He simply rolled his shoulders in response, looking away as I treated his wound. I knew here and then that the conversation was over, there was no surprise; The length of our interactions could be summarized to aggressive banters, not that I had any say in how it went. I simply knew how to deal with the man.

“You have frightened the girls, and you have made of this place a mess,” I started, while packing everything, “Apologize to them on your way out,” It was not a question, it was a command. I was not in any power to do so, I was not Master Ubuyashiki, Pillars were not my subordinates, but I liked to believe they respected me enough to listen to me when I’d tell them they’re in the wrong. The odds of the Wind Pillar excusing were slim, but I found solace in knowing I tried. No one can change a stubborn man, not even kindness, not when he seems so keen on being wilder than a boar.

With a huff, he left, but the door did not close. As I stood up, I saw a blond mop of hair outside, “You have awakened, did Tanjirou make a lot of noise when he woke up?” I asked the lightning user. Zenitsu had a strange way of using his breathing technique, but was a skilled fighter, nonetheless. It did not show in the way he held himself. Stammering, the boy stood straight, “Tanjirou said that- big brother- I mean, the… Rengoku woke up? Can-“ He was pushed to the side when the face of a boar was now in front of me, “Can we see him! Gonpachiro saw him-“ He was very loud, and very energetic, it was too early for this.

Placing a hand on both their shoulders, I smiled kindly, “He needs some rest,” They sighed, so I continued, “The proper way to start the day would be the morning meal, let us eat, then I shall see if Kyojuro is awake,” After asking them if it sounded good to them, the two boys nodded and sped off. Somehow they managed to turn their breakfast into a competition, which threw me off slightly but at the same time made me smile. I was glad to see them well after the events on the train. While I was not there, I knew they had fought bravely and assisted the Fire Pillar with honor. Strong fighters are those with strong hearts, but a strong mind plays a big part too… let’s see how long they’ll last… I thought darkly.

Aoi told me she’d check on everyone while I had breakfast, she argued it was to compensate the morning setback and to help me release some stress from having dealt with the Wind Pillar. I told her it was alright, but she insisted. It was odd but appreciated. What was even more strange was when I joined the kitchen, I was quickly shooed away by Sumi. “Kiyo will bring you to your room!” “Sumi, I know where my room is, would you please tell me what you are up to?”

The young girl shook her head as her friend held my hand and pulled me in a direction. I did not need to read minds to know where she was bringing me, “Kiyo, this is not my room. It is-“ “You’ve spent the night there! Even if it’s a secret, we’ll help you out!” She whispered excitedly as she knelt by the door and slid it open, gesturing for me to get in. I crouched down to her level and used a gentler voice, to show I was not mad, “Has he given his permission for you to do this? It’s his private chamber, and he is also in need of rest-“ I stopped talking when she looked down, her hands on her lap as she greeted someone shyly, with a lot less familiarity than she would if it were me.

Looking to my left, I was being towered by the warm presence of the Fire Pillar behind me, “Thank you, young Kiyo!” The girl nodded and hurried off, but I was able to catch a glimpse of her reddening cheeks as she disappeared off. “A fine morning! Thank you for coming, I was not sure you’d agree,” Rengoku said as I entered the room, closing the door behind me.

“Before you say anything, I haven’t done anything!” He said in a defensive manner, laughing softly as he showed me the trays on the veranda. “This morning Shinobu visited,” He paused as he showed me he could sit down without much help, I smiled to myself at the determination he put in all of this, he was also proud of showing his improvement. The Pillar seemed to have seen it, he looked up at me and grinned, “Within a few days, I will be able to go everywhere with you-“ He cut himself off when I made a curious face. “In a sense of going on a date with you, I do not plan of following you around the mansion,” He said, chuckling.

While he said so, his cheeks were brightening. The sun was not yet to blame since it was not on this side of the building yet. Huffing a laugh, I knelt in front of him, our food separating us. “I see nothing wrong with having you around me a bit more, I find you very calming,” Bowing, I wished him a good meal as we then both started eating. He did not, however. He looked at me with bright eyes, “You do?”

Chuckling, I nodded, “I do, yes, even when you talk a bit loudly it is enjoyable to be around you,”

Rengoku hummed, the smile on his face growing wider and wider by the second. “I feel the same about you!” He told me, as he tied his hair back to get it out of the way as he ate. To that, I laughed as I finished my bite, hoping the warmth in my cheeks wasn’t showing. “Maybe it is biased by the fact that I took care of you many times, have you considered that?” Yes, I accepted his courtship, yes I found the man beautiful in all aspects… and yet, I was trying to make him change his mind. Was part of me thinking I was not worth his attention?

I shook the thought away and tried, at the same time, to avoid staring at how gorgeous he looked with his hair tied back. “It is fantastic that you can take care of people! I myself am clumsy and come back with a lot of wounds, but that is not the reason why I like you,” He paused, about to shove the biggest portion of food in his, already full, mouth. I placed a hand on his, making him look at me like he was caught red-handed. “Sorry,” He said it in a way that was muffled by the food and how much he had in his mouth but I still smiled.

When he swallowed he put chopsticks down and held one of my hand in both of his, “It’s the way your eyes light up when doing the things you like the most, it’s the way you carry yourself everywhere with such grace-“ “Grace is a big word, wouldn’t you say?” I said.

“To me it’s grace! If it’s not, you still look stunning every day, but I find you the prettiest when watching the sun set. It sends my heart all over the place to see you smile-“ His compliments, while kind-hearted and genuine, were becoming too much for my erratic-beating heart. I carefully pried his hands away from mine and covered his mouth, lifting myself on my knees a little to reach his face. “Your point has been made, Kyojuro, I shouldn’t have assumed you were biased, I get it”

Under my hand, I could feel his lips turning up, his smile broadening as he moved my hand from his face, “I’ve changed my mind!” He exclaimed, letting go of my hand. Quirking a brow in response, I wondered what he meant by this. His eyes weren’t leaving mine, his smile turned more smug than joyous, while both were positive feelings, I couldn’t help but feel my body react someway. “The sight of your bashfulness might be a prettier sight than that of your face under the sunset’s golden glow,”

Any hope of hiding how flustered I was, was gone after he opened his mouth. The funny feeling inside my chest was not leaving, if anything it was reaching for him, but I did not. Looking at my food, I chuckled nervously then said, “I will have to take a look at your wound, you rolled on your stomach during the night. I was rushed this morning, I did not have time yet to do so,” When Rengoku laughed, oh so beautifully, I looked at him with a frown. It was in no way threatening, but I tried hard to keep some ounce of dignity.

“This is serious, I hope it was worth it. I even had to drag you back to your futon,” Nodding fervently, he took a sip of tea to help the food pass then beamed, “It was absolutely worth it, I got to hold your hand. I would have expected you’d have let go during the night, but I am overjoyed that you did not,” His sincerity was off-putting and welcomed at the same time, I tried to match it to no avail.

“I did not want to let go, I was here to help you sleep after all, was I not?”

“I’d like to think you enjoyed my company too, you are free to leave whenever you wish!” It was not some passive-aggressive speech, it was honest. And it was sweet too, he deserved some back. “I will be staying until you are fully recovered…” I trailed off, hesitating to add more, trying to make it sweet but I did not know how, then I spoke, “It was a peaceful sleep, I trust you slept well too? After all, you did end up sleeping on my hand and drooling on it, I felt you must know about it,” It was his turn to be embarrassed as his face turned a different shade.

He swallowed, with some struggle, and quickly said, “I am sorry for the drool! I slept very well, I had to come closer because you tugged my arm during your sleep, it was adorable,” I covered my mouth to avoid spitting everything out and finished eating before reacting, “Have I done that, now? That…” I wouldn’t know much of what I do in my sleep, it was quite exceptional to sleep this close to anyone. Ever since I started the slayer training I have had no opportunity to share a bed with anyone. There was no denying what he had said, nor had he given me any reason to distrust him.

“Well, perhaps I will bring my futon closer next time. I wouldn’t want you to end up on the tatami once more,” I trailed off. Noticing he was done eating, I did not give him time to react and grabbed my tray, “I will be cleaning everything up, sorry for intruding. Kiyo brought me here, she-“ “I asked her to bring you! I wanted to eat breakfast with you, has she not told you?” Clenching my jaw, I threw a glare at the door, although I couldn’t see anyone I knew one of the three younger girls was waiting outside.

Sighing in resignation, I put everything down and sat next to the Fire Pillar after moving the pillow. “She made it seem like it was her idea, I felt a bit uneasy interrupting you. I also thought you were still asleep,” Kyojuro hummed, wordlessly telling me to continue. Looking to the side at the flamboyant man, I smiled and placed my hand down, close to his, “I think I like the idea of you trying to have the girls’ attention for such a small endeavor. It is cute,”

“You think I’m cute?” He did not seem shocked, it sounded more like he was making sure he heard right. Though I was persuaded he knew he heard right since he was smiling proudly at me, “Among other things, yes,” I tried to give off an air of mystery, and it seemed to have worked since it piqued the man’s interest. “Among other things? I wonder what else it could be,” He was thinking deeply, his chin resting between his index finger and his thumb. Reaching for the ribbon in his hair, I untied it and freed his mane, I was in awe at how much his hair was tangled.

Quirking a brow curiously, Kyojuro asked, “Do you prefer it undone?”

I laughed, “My preference does not matter, but have you considered combing your hair?” He shook his head, “It gives some volume with the knots!” I did not know who had planted that idea in his head, it was odd, and I was not expecting him to say that at all. When I stood up, he stopped me by grabbing my hand, “Are you leaving already? Will you return tonight?” My heart soared, the pleading look in his eyes turned me into a puddle, but I kept my composure and huffed a laugh.

“I am not leaving; I believe there is a comb in the cabinet. If you’d allow me, I’d gladly untangle that mane of yours. You will not lose volume, I promise,” There was a glimmer in his eyes when he smiled and went to stand up, fortunately I was next to him when he started falling forward. I quickly took hold of his arm and held him back from hitting the floor. Helping him back to his feet, I inquired, amused, “You are wearing a jinbei, on what could you have tripped?”

“Well- Maybe it was a technique to get closer to you?” He smiled at me, he had been doing so a lot recently, and goodness was I weak to it. Not just his smile, but his presence, his laugh, his pretty face… that was getting closer now. I did not look away; I matched the intensity of his gaze but couldn’t find the proper words to reply. Of course, I wanted to get closer to him, but what would the others think? Was it a good time to do so? A lot more was to come, and we could not allow distractions. My eyes darted to his lips, I knew it, but I quickly averted my eyes to look at the pillow on the ground.

“Let’s get you seated so that I can check your wrappings,” I whispered, gesturing for him to sit down. Rengoku made a confused sound but did as I suggested; Once seated, he leaned his head backwards to look at me, “As comfortable as this jinbei is, would it be problematic if I wore my kimono?”

Glancing at him as I made my way to him, fresh wrappings in my hands, I nodded, “Once I’ve changed your bandages, you can do whatever you’d like- unless it’s training. That is still off-limits… However, seeing how fast you’re healing, I might let you train tomorrow.” I told him as I gestured for him to lift his shirt. The Pillar leaned back on his elbows after having undone the tie of his jinbei, his bright eyes observing each of my movements. It did not look like it, he seemed to be simply fascinated by what I was doing but I could see he was thinking of more.

To get his mind off of whatever was going in his head, I prodded, “Are you not excited to be training-“ Suddenly, my hand was gripped when I was about to uncover his wound, a frown painted on his features the Fire Pillar did not move. Rengoku Kyojuro was a man of many talents, being the most optimistic in this mansion was one of them. Never had I seen him without a smile or confidence. Even at this very moment, the look on his face made me want to pity him, his features were serious but seemed to be hiding some pain, it was not a sight I relished in, but he was not asking for pity. Instead, I gave him time.

When he did not let go after a few minutes, I grabbed his hand with mine that was not tightly held in his large one. “Kyojuro, are you alright?” His hand did not move, so I gently pried his fingers away. As I started doing so, he came back to me and let go of my wrist, quickly after, he threaded his fingers with mine and brought my knuckles to his lips. “I apologise, I don’t know what came over me. I’m-“ He chuckled nervously, breathlessly, but I think I knew what happened. But was not going to mention anything, so, instead I brushed my thumb over his cheek.

“We’ll say it was a technique to hold my hand, right?” His cheeks flushed red, his warm hand clenched mine a moment, the prettiest laugh escaped his lips as he looked down shyly. “Well, I’m definitely not against it… But you might need both your hands if you want to take care of me,” He let go of my hand and leaned back once more, his eyes still looked distant as if he was trying to force himself to not look at the wound. To help him, I talked as I removed it, “Do you like fireworks? There will be some in the village nearby, and while you probably can’t go there yet, I know a spot where we can see them,” There was no need to mention that the spot was on the rooftop of the mansion.

At least not yet.

“Fireworks are great! I remember, I would bring my brother to our small village’s festival. It wasn’t grand at all, but we had a lot of fun. He used to be scared of fireworks, he’s not anymore.” He winced a few times as I cleaned the wound, but I listened intently. Looking up, I asked, “Were you?” he lifted himself from his elbows to help me wrap the bandages and quirked a brow in a question-like manner. “Were you afraid of fireworks?” “Oh, not at all! I always liked them, I always loved how everyone would agree on it being the most beautiful thing during the festival. It would always bring everyone together- and it’s also, like a painting in the sky,” His gaze set on mine, a serene smile on his lips.

“It’s also a great moment to spend with someone you care about, wouldn’t you agree?” Keep your composure, do not look away. “I agree, it is in three days. Will you be available?” Extending a hand to help him up, he took it. I was glad he did not pull me down to him, only accepted the help. Once standing, he gave me a curt nod. “I will be. Even if I had some plans, I would make time for you,” He made a gesture as if he was whispering a secret, leaning forward, “Being bed-ridden gives you a lot of free time, but let’s not mention that,” I laughed at his antics, realizing we were still holding hands. In my head it was quite simple, if I did not mention it, he would not let go. So that’s what I did.

“It has benefits indeed, not all bad…” He must have seen my eyes dart to our hands, even for just a second, I thought so when he squeezed his hand and his smile broadened. Not moving from our spot, I changed topic, “You mentioned Shinobu visited this morning, I believe we did venture off topic, but is she back? I have not seen her,”

Just as I asked, a gentle voice was heard next to us. I should have let go of Rengoku’s hand, but instead I simply hid our hands behind my back as we faced the face in question, “I have returned for a while, yes. I trust Aoi has been doing good work?” Shinobu’s eyes darted to the Fire Pillar’s stomach then back at us, “Would you like me to take care of your wound while I am at the mansion?” She asked in her beautiful voice, her expression as neutral as possible. She would always seem deadpanned if not for the smile gracing her features all throughout the day.

The golden-haired man shook his head fervently, “I am feeling great!” he added that I had been doing a great job at taking care of him and that he would only allow me to take care of him.

The woman’s face turned to me, a more sincere smile on it, “Is that so?” “Aoi and the girls are shy around Kyojuro, that is all,” I explained as composed as I could. She turned to look at Rengoku, throwing me a side glance, “Kyojuro, hm? How cute, I will be checking on Sanemi, then. I am sure you will be enjoying one another’s company the best you can, yes?” Before she disappeared, the Fire Pillar made sure to make it even more obvious of what was going on when he grinned, “I will definitely be enjoying every second of it,” Then like a gust of wind, Shinobu was gone.

“She has indeed returned; I should help her out with Sanemi. He was in a foul mood when I saw him earlier,” I said, letting go of Kyojuro’s hand as I made my way to the door. His eyes darkened suddenly when I paused at the door, about to tell him something. I held my tongue. “Has something happened with his brother, again?” He asked, seriously.

I shrugged, “I never ask, I am only the person in charge of calming him when Shinobu is not around. He scares Aoi and the girls, he might be a kind person deep down, but I do not have time to spare on his immature attitude.” Perhaps it was too sincere, after all, Pillars probably all got along. At least, most of them, I knew for sure that the Fire Pillar got along with all of them some way, I never knew how he did so, however. Humming, he joined me by the door, “I will pay him a visit, if I am allowed to leave this room, that is?”

Laughing, I slid the door open, “Of course you can leave the room, I would ask of you to take the crutches in case you get tired on the way. One of the girls will be bringing you your kimono, I’ll let you get changed,” When I lifted my head after giving him a curt bow, his lips were on my cheek as he pressed a tender kiss on it before pulling away smiling. “Thank you, will I be seeing you tonight?”

The nerve. This man, how could he? Be this adorable, after kissing me. Was he not aware of how fast my heart was beating, of how I wanted to pull him closer for more? That was not proper, but I relished in the idea of being in his arms. Shaking the thought away, I kept my mouth shut until I found the proper words, that were not pure gibberish and finally opened it to say, “I will be training this afternoon- without any mission, I need to keep in shape… If you’d like to do the same as yesterday, you are very welcome,”

He nodded. “Gladly! I will be visiting Sanemi promptly, I’ll make sure to be at your training on time,” We both stood by the door, unmoving, looking at each other. It was longer than socially appropriate, but I felt the need to do something, anything, I did not wish to leave him yet. Leaning in quickly, I pecked his cheek before hurrying off, “I will see you then, take care,” My hand held the hem of my attire, I did not want to look back and see his expression. Would it be shock? Satisfaction? Happiness? Perhaps was he flustered? I told myself to not look back, but my self-restraint was not what it used to be.

Just one glance, I thought as I looked over my shoulder. The sight that greeted me was more than enough to reassure me, he was covering his mouth in an excited-way, his cheeks reddening. This was good, this was worth it- Still not having looked away from the Fire Pillar, I bumped into someone and apologized just as fast. “Kanata? Is there a problem with Master Ubuyashiki?” I asked as I stabilized the child with both of my hands on her shoulders, she showed me the letter destined to Rengoku.

“I see. At the end of the corridor. Is it urgent? Shall I gather-“ Cutting me off, she shook her head, “A personal exchange between the Fire Pillar and the Master, I will be leaving now,” With a curt nod, she quickly left. I watched her go, dazed by the interaction. But I did not let it linger on my mind any longer, bumping into her helped me straighten my ideas. I still had things to do for the rest of the day and could not let the beautiful man make me lose focus.

Among other things, I had to make sure the Wind Pillar’s report was adequately done. I trusted Shinobu to write hers with care, but everyone knew Sanemi did not have the soul of a writer, nor the patience of one either. Once this was done, I was going to check on the other wounded, but Shinobu was already one it. She was, after all, in charge of all this. She had taught me some things but was more versed in that field than I was, yet she allowed me to stay by her side today as she did her round.

We did not exchange much, being focused on taking care of everyone. I stopped following her once we reached the three new recruits’ room, a lot was happening there, they were all very awake. “Aoi will be taking care of them, they need to learn how to breathe properly. I will make sure everything goes smoothly, you can leave,” She nodded curtly my way, dismissing me, but I stood there. “I need to exchange a few words with them, after that I will make sure to leave them alone to that they can focus on their training,”

She agreed, bowing me farewell as she made her way out. I did not bother to knock considering how loud the boys were being, the odds of them hearing me were very low. “I see you are both very energetic, you will be able to see Rengoku later in the afternoon. He has to have a talk with the Wind Pillar first, but I’m sure he’ll be very happy to see the three of you,” Looking at Tanjirou, I smiled knowingly, “Perhaps avert from jumping on him this time. He did not mind, but he is still in a bad shape, no matter the smile on his face, understood?” The young brunette nodded, blushing slightly in embarrassment.

Turning around, I faced the two others, “And you two,” They paused their shenanigans, “Tame yourself, tone the energy down a notch. I do not know where you found all that enthusiasm, but I know it’ll disappear quick enough once you’ve started your breathing training,” With a curt nod, and a mischievous smile, I left them, ignoring the slight fear in their eyes. Only one of them had determination, as if he had been challenged, and that was the boy with the birthmark.

Staying at the Butterfly Mansion too long brought boredom, I’ll admit. I could not fill my days with training, as much as I wanted. It would make my hands calloused, and I would be exhausted too fast, so I would read. Trying to learn more about the demons, reading reports from the Pillars before they were sent. Yes, it was not made to do so, but I was curious. And it kept me busy, I also made sure to put them back in place every time. They never saw any difference.

One time I got caught, but the Mist Pillar did not care. He stood by the door, then left without a word. It made me refrain from doing so for a few days, then I began again.

Sometimes I would help taking care of the big mansion, but the girls were not the fondest of the way I did things and tried to keep me busy too. Fortunately, most of the time I was away, but when I wasn’t, it was for a longer period than I liked and staying put was a drag.

I managed to stay busy and did not see time pass. The afternoon arrived quickly, and once I got changed, I knocked on the wooden beam next to the shoji door. I waited until I heard his voice telling me to come inside, his kimono was half-way opened, the sash keeping it closed on the lower half. While my first thought was that he looked the most beautiful like this, I also calmed myself down for he was exposing his entire upper half quite a lot. It’s not that I had never seen it, but the mood between the person taking care of the wound and the wounded, was not present.

Instead, it was just two people, alone in a room, which brought a different kind of intimacy than the one from a caretaker. Looking aside subtly I spoke up, “Are you aware this is not the proper way to wear a kimono?” I asked jokingly as I made my way to the veranda, walking past him. The steps of the Pillar echoed behind me as he joined my side. “That is true, but it is so warm today,” He pulled out a fan from the inside of his attire, making me confused for a moment but I did not ask.

“You should have taken it in consideration before asking to wear it, then. Should Kiyo bring you your jinbei? I am sure it is clean by now.” He shook his head fervently then gestured at himself, grinning, “I am handling it properly,” I ogled, he brought the attention to his chest, what else could I do but enjoy the sight? And enjoy the sight, I did. So much he caught me after I stared a bit too long, “Is it distracting you?” He asked with a grin, returning to fanning his face. Turning my face away, I chuckled, “Absolutely not,” It was bolder than usual to ask me such a question, which made me wonder…

Throwing him a glance, I could see his cheeks were slightly redder than usual. While it could be put on the account of the heat, I couldn’t help but ask, “Kyojuro, have you drank?” I had my answer when he laughed loudly, turning it into something shyer when he stopped. “You have a keen eye. I am not drunk yet, but I drank some sake with Sanemi, it had been a while since I had done this,” He hummed, content. His eyes were focused on the horizon as he pondered, nostalgia filling his gaze. My heart seemed to like seeing him happy, I could feel it beat faster.

Clearing my thoughts, I stood up, sword in hand, “You should be careful, the sun makes the alcohol take effect a lot faster. You should drink some water, Kyojuro,” Chuckling, the man stood up and made his way towards me, smiling ever so reassuringly. “You are worried, it is very cute,” My cheeks flared up, but I didn’t say anything as he continued, “But I am not nearly as drunk as to make any mistake, I would say I am tipsy at best,” His eyes trailed on my face a moment, meeting my curious ones for a moment before looking down. He turned back, laughing to himself before clearing his throat, “Let’s begin, shall we? Perhaps would you like to work on hiding your presence?”

Right, training. Straightening my back, I focused on holding my sword properly and took a few deep breaths to calm down. How can I calm down? Had his eyes lingered on my lips? I must have imagined it… No amount of forcing could make me leave my head, I am sure he did, what would I have done if he had kissed me? Kissed him back. But it is not good to so when such a big fight is coming… I quickly got past the denial stage, and started bargaining, we can’t allow ourselves to be distracted but having someone around helps you stay grounded, does it not?

“Are you alright? I promise I am fine, if that is a big concern-“ “It’s alright, it’s alright,” I huffed a laugh as I gave a curt nod to the Pillar, tightening my grip on my sword I set myself in position. “I simply got lost in thoughts,” I said lightly, resting my posture a moment as I quirked a brow towards the golden-haired man. “Can I ask you a question?” he nodded enthusiastically, sitting back down as he fanned his face. His hair was pushed back by the gust of wind the fan made, but that was not what caught my attention.

What caught my attention was the way he was sitting. A hand behind his back as he leaned on it, his legs spread slightly, half-way through sitting tailor style. It had no reason to look this good, this sinful, and yet I couldn’t look away. But I did, focusing back on his beautiful eyes, “Am I that bad at hiding my presence? I have always thought I was doing good, now I am thinking back on a lot of things… I have never encountered any issues during missions either,” I trailed off, thinking of all the times I tried to be discrete around the Pillars, watching some train, perhaps one more than the others.

He had indeed told me he had seen me lurk around, but perhaps it was only a few times. Lifting his chin as he looked up, thinking, he hummed, “Well…” A few moments passed, then he looked back at me, eyes wide, just like his smile. “I would like to think I have always caught you watching me, even when you’re on the roof, your feet dangling off the edge. That’s also because your shadow is casted on the ground,” He said with a laugh. While he laughed, I sheathed my sword away and tried to keep my composure, “When I train at night, there is a lot less movement in the mansion, so I can sense you a lot more,” He nodded, giving it a deeper thought.

“When you hover by my door nervously too-“ “I do not hover nervously, I am not nervous. I am simply aware that you might be occupied somehow and think against disturbing you. That is all,” That was too fast, too defensive, he saw right through it. I crossed my arms over my chest, looking at him intently, he was beaming but not saying much. “Maybe you are the only who can sense me because you try to, have you considered that, Kyojuro?” I suggested.

He seemed proud that I had said so, his smile, instead of being a grin, turned into one that spread from ear to ear. Using the beam next to him for support, he stood up and walked up to me, his hands reached out for mine, uncrossing my arms. “I do. I find comfort in your presence,” his hands slid from my forearms to my hands, holding them gently. “I have gotten used to having you around, even if you do not know, and even if we do not always talk,” He pulled me closer without much force since I let him do as he pleased. I wanted him to wrap my arms around his form so he could do the same with me.

He did no such thing, no. Instead, he brought my knuckles to his lips and pressed a kiss on them, “We should still work on your breathing, shall we?” I couldn’t talk, instead I turned my hand palm up and placed it along his jaw, holding him there a moment. With the sun hitting strongly, I could feel my whole body heating up, but it was not the only reason. The warmth inside me was welcoming and kind, frightening at time with how much I wanted more, but I enjoyed it. “We should- yes. We should resume training,” I said as I stepped away from him, his hands letting go of mine.

He stood there with a knowing smile, then stepped back and proceeded to explain how he would do it. After a while, he changed his way of explaining and gestured with his hands where he could feel the energy going through and enthusiastically. “I do not feel it there, it is more in his area,” I said as I pointed at my sternum, then asking him to wait as I put my sword on the ground. He shook his head, “That is wrong, it should be,” stepping closer he pressed his fingers on each side of my ribs then trailed against it back to the sternum, “The entire thing here, does it make sense?” He brought his hand on his chin once more, furrowing his brows as he thought deeper with a hum.

While he breathed heavily through his nose, I could feel the tingles on my skin, goosebumps. But there was no time to lose on this, I did as he instructed and closed my eyes, calming down my breathing. “Alright, now you have to visualize it- it is harder to explain than I thought it would be, but it has to go,” once again, he trailed his indexes, starting at my throat then grazed down quickly to separate at the ribs and set on the side. I ignored the shivered that ran down my spine, “That is how I do it, here,”

I opened my eyes in surprise when he put my hand on his side, the area that he showed on my body. “Do you feel the difference?” “I believe I do,” he laughed breathlessly, his smile faltering. It was my time to furrow my brows when I saw that, “Perhaps you should stop for a while-“ Just when I said that, he gripped my shoulder tight, his head hanging low. He was still smiling as he looked up at me, “As much as I would like to say I’m fine, I think it is a bit too much in one go,”

Chuckling, I agreed and helped him back on the parquet of the veranda where I sat him down and handed him back his fan, “Heat, alcohol, training,” “You,” “…it does have some effect on the body- I’m sorry? You said something?” The golden-haired man had said something as I berated him half-heartedly, but I did not quite catch it. Grabbing my burning sword from the ground, I brought it where there was shade and sat next to the Pillar.

He looked at me from the side, and smiled, “I said, you,”

“I, what?” I asked, confused. “You make my heart beat so fast, I am bound to feel dizzy sooner or later,” Huffing a laugh, I looked ahead instead of his blinding smile. If I stared at him again, I did not know what I would do. Would I have the audacity to reach for his hand? Or his cheek, perhaps… No, I wouldn’t. “I am willing to bet is it mainly due to the gaping wound in your stomach and the stifling heat, that is bound to have some effect on the body,”

His laugh would have been louder if he was not decomposing next to me, I heard a thud quickly after. Looking at him in panic, he was laying on the ground with a lazy smile, his entire body stretched out. “I am usually a lot better at handling heat, this is a first,” He chuckled.

Seeing Naho from the corner of my eyes, I gestured for her to approach when I noticed the tray with water and a cloth. She set it on the ground before hurrying off, I barely had time to thank her.

“Let it be the first and only time, yes? I do believe we are done with training for today, nothing much can be done in this heat,” I said as I placed the wet cloth on the man’s forehead. A long sigh of satisfaction left his lips when he opened his eyes and looked at me. I sat, kneeling by his side, changing the cloth every few minutes to get him to liven up. With his eyes locked on me, watching each of my movements, I was very aware the latter. I made sure to not overdo anything, nor to look at him. In this very position, I could easily lean in and- and nothing, get him to cool down and go, I reprimanded myself.

Stopping me by grabbing my arm gently, Rengoku spoke up, “If nothing much can be done in this heat, that means you are available for the rest of the day, correct?”

I nodded, quirking a brow as to ask what he meant. “Well,” He grunted as he went to sit up, I was quick to help him do so, feeling his muscles under my hands but not reacting. “Would you comb my hair? I do not know how to say this, but…” He trailed off, a short huff escaping his nose. Seeing how he seemed to grow timid, I voiced my agreement, adding, “I had indeed planned on doing so earlier today,” Standing up, I made my way to the cabinet, “Since you are so beautiful- your hair is, your hair it’s a beautiful color, it’s going to be fun to comb it,” I hummed unsure, hoping I had covered up my mishap. It was badly done for sure, since I was more eager to run my fingers through his hair than anything.

When I returned to the Pillar, he had made his way back inside where the air more bearable and was now sitting on his futon. I did not remark he had not put it away upon his awakening in the morning, but instead stood in front of him as I ask, “Are you certain you are feeling good? Only minutes ago, you were ready to pass out,” While I said it in a lighter tone, worry still weighed on me when I looked at his half-lidded eyes. Still, I knelt behind him and had to take a moment at the sight of his bare back. It took all the self-restraint in my body to not throw his hair over his shoulder and let my hands travel over his back muscles. Yet, I managed to hold back.

Part of me felt ashamed to need that much restraint when it came down to this man, but there was nothing I could do about it. “I will be honest with you; I might fall asleep. It seems I have overdone it today,” He chuckled, scooting back so that his lower back was against my knees. Laughing with him, I said he was right but that he wasn’t the only one at fault, “I should not have asked for your help, I knew you were in no shape to do so,” I then started combing his hair, encountering a lot of knots but Kyojuro did not seem in pain as I undid them, so I continued while talking.

He tried to look at me, leaning his head back but I pushed it back to straighten it, he laughed, “Do not feel guilty, I am sure we have made some progress. And I did get to see you flustered again, there is nothing to regret from that,” He said with conviction. It made me pause in my action, which gave him a chance to turn around and look at me from over his shoulder, “Yes, just like that, beautiful,” He grinned before turning around once again, letting me resume what I was doing.

A comfortable silence set between us, we could hear the water from the pond outside along the people talking in the corridors when they’d walk by the room before quickly echoing away. The heat was not going down, but the room temperature was good enough for us to get through it. I had a harder time with the warmth coming from the man in front of me, but I was not going to complain. I found comfort in him being this close to me, so much I had this growing fear inside me, this fear of losing him. After all, was I not getting him back to health so that he could fight some more? He was one of the strongest and was going to be fighting equally strong demons when it came down to it.

I hated it, there was nothing to do about it, for I was also going to be fighting but it was still a nagging fear that had made its way inside my mind. “I deeply respect you, Kyojuro, I trust you do what you believe is right and praise you for it… but sometimes being selfish is not bad, I know you are no such person but… consider it if you ever found yourself in a situation that gives you the choice,” I said softly as I run my hand through his hair to check if there were any other kinks in it. When I did not receive an answer from the exhausted man in front of me, I guessed he had fallen asleep.

Huffing to myself, I started threading my fingers through his hair once more, this time braiding it, “Perhaps it is for the best, it was out of place to say that much…” I mumbled to myself, not adding anything more as I finished braiding his hair. When it was done, I placed it over his shoulder and hesitated a moment.. Looking around the room, I made sure no one was looking and placed a kiss at the intersection of his neck and shoulder before standing up quickly, stumbling slightly from how long I had been sitting. I was amazed at how he could still be sitting when he was clearly asleep but still proceeded to lay him down before leaving silently.

For the rest of the afternoon and evening, I helped with making dinner. A lot more had to be made considering whom had joined earlier today, but also because the three recruits had the appetite of ogres. It seemed the training they were undergoing made them spend all their energy a lot faster and at the end of the day they were starved. While they all waited for the food, I had led the recruits to the Fire Pillar’s room as promised and left them all together, knowing Tanjirou would be a lot more cautious and take care of his friends if they were to go awry.

Doing something other than taking care of the Pillar was very welcome, it kept my mind off thinking of him which I now realized was a lot more recurrent than it used to be. I had always liked Rengoku, but clearly, spending more time with him reinforced that feeling a lot. I would still try to get myself to not consider getting together with him, but then my brain would remind me that he had set himself on the path of courting me and warmth would spread in my chest. My name was called as I was putting away the dishes, bringing back to the present.

“Tanjirou? Are you not with the others? I trusted you to take care of their… rambunctious attitude, is there a problem?” The boy shook his head and furrowed his brows a moment, before tentatively saying, “I thought… Big brother has been talking about you for a while now, I thought you had gone away on a mission and he was missing you but…” Hearing him say so brought heat up my cheeks, I heard the girls chuckle in the kitchen and turned around to shush them. It was hard to keep myself from smiling but I kept my composure, “Well, you can tell him I will return soon,” I held back from saying that I will spend the night with him again.

Another fit of giggles behind me brought back the heat to my cheeks, but also to the young man’s, in front of me. He gave me a curt nod before hurrying off, embarrassed. When he was gone, I resumed my activities without saying anything, but I could hear the comments from the people in the kitchen. “Are you aware I can hear you?” I asked, half-joking half-annoyed. Their giggles stopped, ushering their words into a silence as they went back to their tasks.

I knew the rumors would spread fast, but if Kyojuro was being this obvious in whatever he was doing, they were bound to grow even more. I made a mental note to mention it to him as I walked to his room, thinking I would be hearing some ruckus and found myself surprised when it was completely silent. Should I go in? Perhaps he has fallen asleep again, along with the three boys? They needed to rest, I should peek and make sure- “The nervous hovering!” The door was slid wide open as the joyous man stood in front of me, his hair still how I had left them.

It suited him. It suited him so well, even more so with his kimono properly draped over his shoulders. A weird feeling wormed its way in my chest when I looked at how gorgeous he looked like this, “I was not hovering, I thought you were asleep,” Looking over his shoulder, I noticed he was alone, “Have the recruits left already?” “Yes! When young Tanjirou told me you were coming back, I made them leave, the evening is ours after all,” He smiled gently.

I knew he did not mean it in the way I heard it in my head, the one that involved more proximity, so I banished the thought and hummed. Two little forms slid inside the room and placed the food trays on the ground before hurrying off, I managed to catch a glimpse of their grinning face as Kiyo and Sumi disappeared. “Come on,” Taking my hand in his, he led me inside, I noticed my futon was already spread out and a lot closer too. I did not know if it was on purpose or accidental, but whichever it was, I was not going to say anything.

“You know, Kyojuro. I was not entirely sure everyone in the mansion knew I had spent the night here, but with how open you are to talking about it, I’m sure even the young Master knows, now,” Was I complaining? Or was I embarrassed by how he had no filter when talking about this? At this point, I was sure he had talked about it in length with the recruits who had nothing to do with any of this nor found interest in the topic.

Nodding, Rengoku swallowed and said, “Master Ubuyashiki knows, I have been exchanging letters with him,” I felt my throat tighten, that was what I feared. I never knew what the rule regarding relationships between demon slayers was, it was one of the main things holding me back from taking a step further. At least that is what I kept telling myself. Clearing my throat, I ate some more and inquired, “What? I am not sure it is allowed. No, actually, I do not know anything about what is accepted in the corps, regarding that…”

With his eyes wide, Rengoku stared right at me, “It? That? Would you mind being clearer?” His tone was innocent, but he was smiling proudly, as if he had caught me. Straightening my back, I played the serious card, “Well, you are courting me, are you not?” He laughed, nodding, “Correct. And you are doing the same with me, in your own way, is that right?” I was, indeed. Less with words, more with actions, but I was. I was relieved he noticed and that he did not think he was doing it for nothing. But I did not reply.

Feeling his hand on my ankle, I was startled and let out a sound of surprise, making him chuckle as he said, “Would you mind answering me?” “I am. Yes, I am courting you, because you are very,” Many words crossed my mind, beautiful, kind, stunning, funny, warm, welcoming. But only one left my mouth, “nice. You are nice, yes.”

He had to cover his mouth when laughing this time, his eyes closing as he did so. At this very moment, I thought, if I could, I would have painted this very moment and kept in my room the beautiful sight he had given me when laughing so brightly. It was something I’d never forgot. I looked down at my food, his cute laugh engraved in my head. “Well, Master Ubuyashiki informed me he had nothing to say, as long as we both put our duty before anything else. Which, I am sure you can do, if… it came down to it, someday,” “Of course, if it ever, yes…” We both looked up, our eyes meeting an instant before looking back at our food. A smile grazed my lips, I could feel it.

Without much more to say on the topic, the conversation drifted off to family and things we loved to do when we were younger, it flowed smoothly. It was also relaxing, even more so with the cool breeze of the night that entered the room. When we were done, and everything was tidied up we slid in our respective futon, lulled to sleep by the lighter temperature and the cricket conversations outside. In the depth of the night, lit up by a clear sky, as the door leading to the garden was still open, Kyojuro said my name softly.

“Yes?” I replied, my voice barely a whisper as I turned around on my futon to look at him. He was already facing me, his eyes wide open, not an ounce of sleep painted on his features. In an ushered tone, he asked, “Would you please sing for me?” There is a lot going on in my mind, was the subtext when he worded his question.

I reached out for his hand and held it gently, “Well, would that help you sleep?” I whispered, chuckling tiredly. “I think so,” He said it as if confiding in me, huffing a short laugh. Even with the little light that illuminated the room, I could see how his eyes flickered almost sadly before setting on our intertwined hands.

Not commenting on it, I started humming tiredly. I did not know how long it took for us to fall asleep, but I remembered him mumbling something before passing out. What had he said, I do not know, but I did felt serene as I dozed off.

[Part 3]

#kny rengoku #rengoku kyoujurou #rengoku x reader #kny #demon slayer #kny x reader #ao3 physicalturian #physicalturian #ao3 writer #writing #writers #fanfic #fanfiction #masterlist #gentle summer

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ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 5 years

Text

Burned Part 4

Summary: Alfie Solomons is in need of a secretary. Tommy Shelby mentions a young woman in need of employment. From there the two step into a dangerous dance together.

Chapter Summary: Alfie gets his own revenge on Louise’s husband and has to face the consequences.

Warnings: Violence, mention of suicidal thoughts.

Even though Louise was prospering in Camden Town, Alfie didn’t let go of the grudge he had against her husband. He still noticed when the stitches on her stomach caused her pain. The slight wince crossing her features and the sharp gasp of discomfort. Tommy was hesitant to give the man’s name to Alfie. But he gave in as long as Alfie promised not to do anything more than just break his nose or few fingers. After all, Louise didn’t ask the Peaky Blinders to kill her husband.

A few days passed and Alfie waited patiently, or as patiently as he could.

One night, after everyone had gone home, sounds of a scuffle started to kick up in the warehouse. Puzzled, Alfie stood up and reached for his gun. He opened the door and saw a few of his boys. “What you doing?” He strode over to them, pocketing his gun. “Fucking go home.” His boots shuffled heavily across the concrete floor of the distillery. The metallic sounds of his cane echoing through the large warehouse.

“We found the man you were looking for, Mr. Solomons, Kelly.” One of the boys shoved a lanky man to the floor. Offering him like a sacrificial lamb to their boss.

“Oh…very nice. Go on, stand up.” Alfie poked at him with his cane as he tucked his gun away. He’d have to keep his finger off the trigger so he would limit himself to just physical force.

The man staggered to his feet, clutching his stomach in pain having been jumped while staggering out of the bar. “What hell do you think you’re doin’?” He demanded.

The man reeked of alcohol and he was disheveled. He was taller than Alfie but looked like a weed, easy to snuff out but annoying as hell. One of those gits that didn’t know when to quit. Alfie hated men like that.

“Daniel Kelly, correct?”

The man had dirty blonde hair sticking to his sweat covered forehead. He squinted and tried to size up the gangster boss through his gin-kaleidoscope vision. “Yeah, who’s asking?”

“Well, that don’t matter, do it? All that matters is you’ve been a bit unkind to one of me employees, yeah?” Alfie cracked his knuckles and gripped his cane tightly.

“Don’t know what you’re fuckin’ talking’ about.” The man was too intoxicated to see what sort of danger he was in. It was a shame what gin did to inflate the ego. Alfie had killed a lot of men who were so hopped up on liquid courage that they didn’t turn away when they had the chance. Pesky flies just begging to be smacked down by a biblical force.

“Don’t even know who you are, mate. Where am I?”

“Now why would a man harm his wife?” Alfie looked at his boys. “Any guesses, lads?”

They didn’t respond, knowing their boss was just working up to the finale of caving the man’s face in. It wasn’t wise to interrupt his monologue lest they wanted to join the victim.

“No? I’ve got one.” He raised his right hand as if he’d come to a divine epiphany. “Maybe, right, he’s a fucking lowlife and a drunk who don’t deserve someone like her. What you think, mate?”

“Louise?” Daniel furrowed his eyebrows and his lanky body wavered, trying to stay upright. “You talkin’ ‘bout me wife?”

Alfie didn’t answer. He was on a roll of working himself up, stroking his temper like a feral tiger ready to be unleashed. “Thing is, I like going through me day without having to come across fucking scum of the Earth, like you.” He jabbed his finger at his chest. “I also prefer women not get taking advantage of. You fucking think you're tough, yeah? Picking on a girl half your size. Think it makes you man?”

“Bigger man than you,” Daniel smirked and looked down at the Jewish gangster. “Fucking little man.”

Alfie just chuckled darkly. His associates knew that was the last straw and braced themselves for impact.

“Right…” He passed his cane to his other hand and punched the man with a power that nearly caved his entire face in.

Daniel’s nose made a sickening crack and blood poured down his face. He collapsed to his knees holding his face. “Jus’ tell me where she is, this ain’t any of your fuckin’ business!” His voice was distorted from his broken nose. Dark warmth pooling in his palms, streams slipping out between his fingers and down the front of his hand. Thick blood drops hit the concrete with a sticky sounding plunk.

“It is me fucking business because look where you are. You’re standing in me bakery and ain’t no one gonna hear you scream, mate. You tried to kill my secretary. You dug your own fucking grave, mate, you put yourself here.” Alfie calmly wiped the blood from his knuckles. Blood spatter accenting his sleeves in a violent design. “Next time I hear about you doing something else like this, I’m gonna have me boys bring you back here, to me, and I’m going to fucking break your fucking legs!” His voice lost its frightening restraint. His shout rang loudly through the bakery, frightening a few birds from the rafters. “Yeah? Got it? Get up, and fuck off. Don’t fucking let me catch you doing this again.” Alfie turned and went to walk away. Despite the irritating nature of the man, he assumed his job was done and the message was clear. Although, Alfie had a sliver of hope that his threats didn’t get through Daniel’s thick skull. He decided he would want the pleasure of breaking a few more bones.

He’d get the final laugh anyways.

“Have fun with her then, she’s a fuckin’ whore, she’ll open her legs up for anyone, even a fuckin’ monster like you,” Daniel called out after him and spat at the ground. His saliva clotted with blood.

Alfie stopped in his tracks. His hands curling into fists as his temper hit a peak. He threw his cane with a loud clang against the concrete floor. He walked over to him with the devil shaking beneath him. A storm raged in his ocean colored eyes. He reached into his waistcoat and retrieved a switchblade. It was typically for daily use but Alfie didn’t discriminate against weapons. If it could kill a man, he’d use it.

Daniel gave him a look of confusion when he returned, trying to hold his shirt over his bleeding nose.

“Right,” The gangster dragged Daniel to his feet and slammed him up against a nearby support beam. “Guess what I’m gonna do with this?” Alfie flipped open the blade and held it to the man’s stubble-covered jaw. “I’m gonna do the same thing you did to Miss Barnes. ‘Cept you’re not going to live. I’m sending you straight to fucking hell, you save a spot for me, yeah?” He hissed and thrust the knife into Daniel’s stomach. Dark maroon spread over the man’s white shirt, eliciting a scream from the man with every stab.

After a frenzied vortex of time as Alfie blacked out from rage, the blade broke off in the man’s torso. So he let Daniel fall to the ground. He took out his gun, cocked it, and shot the man between the eyes.

The gunshot echoed through the empty warehouse. Then a quiet settled as if nothing had happened. The night continued on.

Alfie pocketed his gun and dropped the broken blade handle. Blood spattered over his shirt and soaked his arms. Painted with the aftermath of his crime. He sliced himself a bit in the fevered attack but didn’t feel the pain. Adrenaline coursed through his veins and took care of numbing his nerves.

“Right, fucking get it outta here.” He huffed and shook blood off his hands, drops flying against nearby barrels. “Don’t care where you dump it. Then come back and clean up.” He waved the boys off and returned to his office to cleanse himself of sin.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, Louise was unaware of her husband’s death. She walked into the bakery and found one of the men mopping up a dark, sticky puddle. Confused, she went to Alfie’s office.

“Come in,” Alfie called after she knocked.

Louise slipped off her coat and hung it up beside his overcoat on the hook. “What spilled outside?” She asked.

“Just some resin, nothing too bad.” He lied through his teeth and continued reading. He should've known she'd pick up on the little things. Minor details like that didn't go over her head, she was as sharp as a whip.

“Oh…” She sat down and took out her diary. His hands appeared in her line of vision and startled her. “What about your hands?”

Fresh bandages covered the cuts on Alfie’s hands. “Splinters.” He muttered.

The answer wasn’t convincing but she didn’t want to pry. That wasn’t her job. “Okay, well-” The telephone interrupted her.

Alfie grumbled incoherently under his breath and picked up the receiver. “’Ello?”

“What did I fucking tell you?”

The voice on the other line was unmistakable. And it was far too early in the morning to listen to Tommy Shelby chewing him out. “Tommy, so good to hear from ya, mate, anything I can do for you?”

“I said I’d give you his name if you didn’t kill him. Now you’re getting sloppy, couldn’t even get the body to the river to dump it?” The Blinder demanded. “Your boys dumped him on the side of the road!”

“No fucking idea what you’re going on about.” Alfie’s eyes flicked up to see Louise patiently waiting across the desk. She had no idea.

“Really? Right, well now you’ve got to tell his widow what happened. And you better tell her the truth, Alfie, of I will.”

“You fucking what?” His fist fell onto the desk making his secretary flinch. He gritted his teeth and restrained himself as best he could for her sake. “You trying to back me into a corner, Tommy boy?”

“She paid us for protection, she didn’t say anything about murdering him.” He retorted, not intimidated by his fierce opposition.

“Had it fucking coming, didn’t he?” Alfie demanded. “Yeah? Don’t think he’s some saint, do ya?”

“Right, I can understand, really, I can. But you need to tell her. You can’t cover this up or the police will start asking her questions. You want to save her the trouble of being a suspect?”

The gangster looked at Louise. She appeared puzzled but not uncomfortable. “Fine.” He forcefully returned the receiver to the hook.

“Everything alright?” She had a sinking feeling in her gut that the call from Mr. Shelby had something to do with her.

Alfie sighed and interlocked his fingers on the desk. “Your husband was found dead.”

Her eyes widened and a hand flew to her mouth. “What?” Her whisper muffled against her palm. “W-when? How?”

“I uh…” He cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair. There wasn’t any telling what kind of reaction she would have. But he didn’t expect her to see how distraught she was. “He…”

Louise hadn’t seen him so lost for words. The uneasiness on his face was unmistakable. Her jaw dropped in disbelief. The realization and horror spreading over her face. “You didn’t.”

He swallowed and his eyes flicked down to betray his stoic expression. “Louise-”

“Alfie, please tell me you didn’t. Tell me it was someone else.” She begged. The last thing she wanted was for her view of the man to be too utterly distorted to fix it.

He shook his head. “I only meant to rough him up a bit.” He muttered. When had he ever felt shame for committing murder? Maybe his first time but it wore off soon after. He thought he was doing something chivalrous for her. But she was cut from a different cloth.

“I told you.” Her voice shook violently as she glared at him, hints of fear behind her eyes. “I told you to leave it, didn’t I?”

“Yes-”

“I told you to leave in the past. You went behind my back. I didn’t ask you to do this, I didn’t want him dead!” She cried, her voice rising.

Alfie dragged a hand over his face. “I was planning on just breaking his fucking nose-”

“But I didn’t ask you to do even that! How did you even learn who he was?” She demanded.

“If ya just let me finish me fucking sentence, I’ll fucking explain!” He couldn’t help but feed off her angry energy. His temper was always starving for a reason to go off. Even if it was Louise.

“Don’t you dare,” She stood up and leaned over his desk, pressing her palms into the wood. “Don’t you fucking dare yell at me! Not after what you did!”

He pressed back in his leather desk chair. It was the first time he’d ever heard her swear. It affected him more than he realized it possibly could. He clenched his jaw and composed himself. “I’m not trying to yell at you. But I have a reason for what I did.”

“I can’t imagine you have a good enough reason when I explicitly told you not to get into it.” She spat. Her entire body appeared to tremble with anger.

“He fucking wouldn’t shut his fucking mouth!” Alfie matched her volume and heaved himself up out of his chair.

“And you’re so good at that?” She retorted. “You can’t do whatever you want, you don’t make up the rules. The world doesn’t bow down to Alfie Solomons!” She shouted.

“He called you a whore!” He slammed his fist down on the desk making it quiver. “I ain’t fucking apologizing for giving him exactly what he deserved!”

Louise flinched but didn’t back away from him. “I can’t believe you. I thought you were different, but people were right about. You’re heartless.” Tears formed in her eyes.

Alfie tensed up and his heart froze over. He wanted to inform her that he cared so deeply about her and would do anything for her because he knew she deserved it.

“I can’t even look at you.” She turned and roughly wiped her tears away with the sleeves of her blouse.

“Louise!” He called after her but didn’t follow after she slammed the door to his office shut. “Fuck.” He mumbled and collapsed back into his chair.

Cyril whimpered softly from his bed. The dog’s sagging cheeks resting on his front paws, his sad eyes looking up at his master.

Alfie put his head in his hands, tugging at his hair out of frustration. “She’ll be the death of me.” He grumbled to his dog. “Mark me words.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Louise showed up at work the next day. Her face was plastered over, stuck in a stony expression. She wore a black dress as if to drive the blade further into Alfie’s chest. She didn’t ignore him; everything had to do with business though. Her voice was dull and emotionless. She wouldn’t show him any weakness.

It crushed Alfie far more than he expected. Once the day finished, he was worn out even though he hadn’t gotten much work done. He was too preoccupied with Louise’s behavior. He wondered if he could ever make it up to her or ever have her the way he wished he could. Smiling and happy on his arm. Making him seem like a better man than he really was. Heartless. She couldn’t love a man who was heartless.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hello?”

“Tommy, it’s Alfie.” The gangster boss muttered. It was about eight at night and had begun to rain. Alfie didn’t want to return home, he was afraid that without any distractions he would drive himself mad.

“Something you need?” The Shelby asked curiously.

“I want you to come pick up the money you gave me, the half of Louise’s inheritance.”

Tommy went quiet. He knew it had to have something with Alfie murdering Daniel. “You should give it to her if you really don’t want it, eh?”

“Doubt she’d take it from me. Fucking hates me guts now, don’t she?” Alfie’s hand tightened around the receiver of the phone.

“Just add it to her paycheck then.” He suggested. “I don’t want to take it.” The man didn’t think it was right to take more money from the woman.

Alfie grunted. “I fucked up, Tom.” His voice lost some of its usual sternness.

“I know.” He wasn’t going to sugar coat it. “Can’t take it back now though.”

“She’ll hate me. Thinks I’m this soulless thing. Fucking evil of the Earth, exactly what everyone else thinks.” It was a rare thing for Alfie to let his outer shell crack. But he knew Tommy had been in love and could sympathize even a little bit.

“You could try to right it. Can’t buy yourself out of it though like everything else,” He warned. “Woman can see right through that, especially women like her.”

Alfie rested his elbow on his desk, putting his head in his hand. “She’s got my bollocks in a vice, she does. Haven’t even told her what I feel for her but she’s fucking got me wrapped ‘round her pinky like I was nothing but a toy.”

Tommy was a little surprised he was being so honest. It showed the most humanity he’d ever seen in Alfie and it made him downright uncomfortable. “Well, you can figure it out, right? You know her better than me.”

“Don’t know.” Alfie lifted his head and scratched the nape of his neck. “Still…you won’t take the money?”

“No. You’ll find something to do with it if she doesn’t accept it.”

“Don’t want the fucking money.”

He wanted her.

~~~~~~~~~~

That same night, rain spattered against the windowpane. Alfie had finally gone home. He sat in the parlor, trying to read. But he’d been stuck on the same paragraph for a while. His brain couldn’t absorb the information so he kept rereading.

A banging on the door interrupted the struggle of his thoughts. Alfie set his book aside and heard Evelyn trotting down the stairs.

“S’alright, Evelyn, I’ve got it.” He didn’t want the girl opening the door so late at night. He walked to the door and opened it.

Louise was standing on the front step, looking like a wet cat. The rain had soaked right through her dress, her curls limp and sticking to her face. It was impossible to distinguish the raindrops from the tears on her cheeks.

Her lower lip quivered. “Can I come in?”

Alfie nodded. “’Course.” He said quietly and let her in. “Why’re you out there without a fucking coat?” He asked.

She shook her head but didn’t answer.

“Evelyn, get some towels, yeah?” He called up to the girl.

“Yes, Mr. Solomons!” She replied.

He led Louise to the parlor where flames blazed in the fireplace. He let her warm up a bit while Evelyn came downstairs with a heap of fluffy towels.

“Miss Barnes, you look freezing!” She gasped and quickly helped the woman wrap up in the towels.

“Thank you, Evelyn.” She said, her voice cracking.

“That’s all, Lyn,” Alfie said steadily.

The girl looked worried, not sure why Louise was there in such a state but left the parlor on his orders.

Louise stood stock still near the fire aside from brief shivers wracking her body.

Alfie backed up and sat down on one of the couches. He wasn’t sure what to say to her after their argument and subsequent coldness between them that day. He leaned forward, his hands clasped between his wide spread knees.

She used one of the towels to do her best to dry her hair. “I’m sorry, I’m intruding so late.” Her voice finally came out in an ashamed tremble. The fire lit up her hazel eyes, glowing flecks of amber hidden in the irises.

“S’not a problem.” He mumbled. “There a reason you’re here?” He didn’t want to sound cold, but he wanted to get down to the bottom of it. He wasn’t exactly in the mood to argue with her again. It hurt too much last time despite fully engaging in it without hesitation.

She sucked in her lower lip, tugging on it between her teeth. “I have to apologize for how I treated you today and yesterday.” Her eyes were on his, holding sincerity.

“You don’t need to apologize, yeah? Your emotions are your emotions, can’t change that.”

“The truth is I’m not really angry with you. I don’t know what I’m really angry at.” She lowered the towel and folded it over her arm. Her chilled body slowly warming up beside the fire. “You don’t know what I went through with Daniel.”

“You could tell me, yeah, if that would help.” He offered. “I’m all ears. I’m not angry and I’m sorry ‘bout all that yesterday. Weren’t fair for me to yell at you after what I did.”

“No, I know.” She hugged herself close, keeping the soft towel around her shoulders. “I uh…I guess I should start from the beginning.” She swallowed the lump in her throat.

Alfie patted the couch beside him so she would sit down.

“I’m still damp.”

“Don’t matter, it’ll dry, s’just water.”

She nodded and walked over to sit on the couch. She kept her distance though, afraid he was still upset with her despite what he’d said. “My parents wanted me to marry this man that we’d known for a while, a family friend’s son. He was wealthy, Oxford graduate, with very good manners. But when I was with him...I felt like I was nothing but a little toy to tote around the events. He’d show me off and then act like I was just emotionless or nothing but a shell of a person.”

Alfie furrowed his eyebrows and let out a grunt with a frown. He could get that impression from a lot of wealthy men.

“I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life with him, and if I married him that’s what I would have to put up with. My parents would look down on me if I tried for a divorce.” She reached up to brush her damp hair away from her face. Then she used the towel around her shoulders to try to dry her curls again. “I met Daniel, he was a driver for another family we knew. He swept me off my feet and I felt so excited knowing that there was something else to life. He’d take me out dancing and drinking. I felt like I was free. My parents hated him but I didn’t care. I eloped with him after six months. It was all right for a bit. He could never hold a job so I had to work too. I sold some jewelry, anything to keep us afloat. We had to move to Birmingham. But I was too stupid to see how things were changing. I thought he was just a down on his luck boy that would turn into my prince in shining armor. My parents would see that he was perfect for me.” She laughed bitterly. “I was such a daft teenager.”

Alfie pursed his lips. He wanted to tell her that it wasn’t her fault and that most teenagers were daft. He certainly wasn’t a wise and orderly chap. He could imagine her parents would disapprove of him as well. The teenager with an unstable temper, a penchant for stealing, and the gift of riling up police officers.

“I guess a year or so into the marriage I couldn’t ignore everything. He rarely kept a job longer than a week. He’d take my earnings and go off.” She waved a hand in the air disgust pricking at her eyes. “Gambling, drinking, having an affair, I never knew. Kept me away from the people I loved most. Often told me that no one would care for me the way he did.”

Cyril padded into the room after pestering Evelyn for a treat. He went over to Louise, resting his droopy face on her knees. She smiled faintly at him and began stroking his ears. The motion kept her grounded as she recounted her history.

“After a while, he started asking why I wasn’t getting pregnant. He wouldn’t let it go and blamed me. He just kept going on about how I was damaged and worthless.” Louise’s voice caught her throat. Her late husband’s voice echoed in her mind, ranting and raving about how she wasn’t a woman if she couldn’t get pregnant. “Said I was only good for fucking.” A tear escaped down her cheek.

Alfie’s jaw clenched as he took out a handkerchief and offered it to her. Part of him was beside himself that a woman would be told such things. The other half of him wished he had the ability to raise people from the dead so he could kill Daniel again and again.

Since he didn’t say anything, Louise continued, unaware of his seething beneath the surface. “I got so sick of it. One day, I challenged him. I said maybe he was the infertile one, not me.” A cloud covered her face as the vivid memory resurfaced. Standing in the dark kitchen, Daniel stinking of gin, look of rage burning his face red as the fateful words left her mouth. “That’s when he first hit me.” Her eyes focused on Cyril to keep her composure. The memory kept playing because she knew Daniel didn’t just hit her. She remembered the brutal force against her cheek as he grabbed her by the back of the neck and slammed her down into the kitchen table.

Her breathing became shallower as she scratched behind Cyril’s ears. The bullmastiff could sense something was troubling her so he leaned his body weight against her legs. The pressure was comforting and allowed Louise to pull herself out of her own memories and return to the present.

Alfie stood stock still beside her. Everything twisted around in his stomach; his heart lunging against his ribs, Louise’s past haunted him. If only he’d known. If only he’d been there. He would put an end to it immediately so she would never see abuse. So she wouldn’t have to wake up every morning with the scars etched into her bones. He knew what it was like to open his eyes and all the traumatic memories flooding through like sunlight. Every time he wished he could wake up without remembering. It was torture enough to have gone through it. But the lingering effects were salt in the wound.

“I kept threatening to leave but I never did.” Louise began talking again once she composed herself enough. “I was scared he would kill me. There wasn’t any way I could back to my parents either. I know they loved me so much but I defied them every step of the way and ruined my life. I never got the chance to amend. They were killed in an accident.”

She revealed what she’d kept from him on a professional standing. And Alfie wasn’t sure how Louise had managed to be there, sitting next to him. It was as if life kept hurling rocks at her but she continued to get up every time. “Lou…”

“Alfie, I won’t thank you for what you did.” She looked up from Cyril, her hazel eyes still blazing in the firelight. “But, I can’t judge you for it. I can forgive you.”

“Dunno if you should.” He muttered back and reached back to run his fingers through the back of his hair. “I didn’t fucking listen to you like I should’ve…”

“I thought about killing him.” Her voice came out in a choked gasp as if someone had been choking her but finally let her breathe again. It was something she’d kept to herself. No one around her could understand. But if anyone could it would be the man who had killed Daniel.

Alfie blinked and almost asked if he’d heard her right. But there was no mistaking the words.

Her eyes were hard as she nodded shakily, sensing his disbelief. “And not just like… ‘Oh, I wish he’d disappear’. No, I uh…I thought about taking a pillow and just-” She pressed her hands down on her thighs to mimic smothering someone. “But I wasn’t strong enough. So I looked for other ways out.” She looked down again in shame. She was delving into her darkest thoughts, shining a light on them. Everything looked so ugly when illuminated.

The man beside her could think of many ways to dispatch of Daniel but he didn’t want to make her feel worse. Women like her didn’t need to hear the details of how he got rid of problems.

“If I tried to kill him…he’d kill me. If I succeeded in killing him, I’d probably be hanged. So…” She twisted her fingers together, stray raindrops slipping between her palms. “I figured the easiest way would be to end my own life.” Louise couldn’t help but let out a small sob. She couldn’t contain it. The act of speaking those words was too painful but she felt a burdened eased off her.

“Lou...” Alfie shifted a bit closer to her. He wasn’t the best at comforting people. Usually, he was the reason people needed comforting.

“I know it sounds so silly. There are people who have it far worse than I-”

“Louise.” He interrupted her sternly. “That’s ‘nough of that. Fuck the world, yeah, you have the right to feel how you like. World’s not a contest of who has it fucking worse.” He clasped his hands together. “You’re the one who went through it, not anyone else.”

She sniffled and looked up at him. Her lashes were glossed over with tears. The very vision a painter conjured when depicting the grief of a woman. The weight of the world pressing down on her and continuing to cut pieces away from her. God always took from the ones with the best intentions. Alfie felt like he deserved his misfortunes. He personally carved out the hollowness inside him. Every action he took justified another stab to the gut. But Louise was like him. She didn’t choose to do what he did. She never fought back like him. She complacently took the pain, only dreaming of a way of out it. Alfie indulged in the sin and misery. For a brief moment, he felt full. Having a man’s life in his hand, soaking in the fear of others, adorned in jewels, and passing along high amounts of money. But it never lasted.

Louise lasted.

“You’re safe now, yeah, won’t let anyone hurt you. But if you ever feel like that again, you tell me, yeah?” He wouldn’t take suicide lightly. He’d seen men in the war ready to end the suffering. Some men who made it home were unable to cope. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if Louise made that decision. “You don’t have to tell me. You could tell Evelyn, Ollie, fucking call up Tommy Shelby if ya need to. But promise me,” He held her gaze to ensure she knew how serious he was. “Promise you won’t keep it to yourself. Because you don’t need to.”

Louise wiped at her eyes and nodded. “I will.” She whispered weakly.

Alfie nodded. “Right, good. Need you around.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him. The wording had come out a little desperately, much more than he intended.

“Mean, who else could be my secretary?” He hurried to cover up any hints of affection towards her. The last thing he wanted was to make her uncomfortable. She didn’t want him. “I mean, fucking hell, I can actually read your writing. Ollie’s was just chicken scratch, wasn’t it?”

It drew a smile from Louise. A sunbeam breaking through the clouds. “I’m sure it’s just fine. You’re too hard on him.”

“Nah, you’ve got great penmanship. Lovely, innit? Like art it is.” He praised her to bring out her smile even more.

“Who thought penmanship would be so coveted in a gangster’s world?” She sighed and shook her head. It was something she had to come to terms with. Alfie Solomons was a gangster. She worked for a gangster. “I mean I don’t know my way around a gun to save my life.”

He chuckled. “Business ain’t all blood. Keeping books, now that’s crucial. ‘Sides, I could teach you how to shoot.” He offered. “To protect yourself.”

Louise made a face. “I will respectfully decline.” She reached down. “I have this for protection.”

Alfie was startled as she hiked her skirt up to her knee. If that wasn’t surprising enough, she unsheathed a knife from a thigh holster.

“Fucking hell, do you always have that?” His eyes were wide and she allowed him to examine the knife.

“After I left the hospital I started carrying it.” She admitted sheepishly. Every time she put on the holster she felt unlike herself. She wasn’t shielded in the bubble of her upbringing anymore though.

“’S’good, keep it.” He gave it back to her, taking care of the sharp blade. “No one in Camden will touch you though.”

She bent down to return the knife to its holster. “What do you mean?”

“You’re under my protection.” He straightened up and rolled up the sleeves of his loose fitting shirt. “Anyone who knows what’s good for them will steer clear.”

Something pinched in Louise’s stomach. He was threatening the entire Camden Town area. Letting out the news that anyone who harmed her would end up like her late husband. It was startling and comforting. Something strange to behold. She bit the tip of her tongue but couldn’t stop herself. “That’s why you left him on the street? To send a message?” Her voice warped around the unfamiliar phrase.

He grunted and tugged at his beard. “What I do, all my misdeeds, yeah, you don’t have to hear. I won’t involve you in nothing, never intended to. But you want me to be honest, then I will.”

Louise smoothed her damp skirt down and crossed her ankles. “I want you to be honest.”

He nodded slowly, almost in a dazed state. He stared ahead at the fire that was starting to lose its power. “Your husband was the last man to lay his hands on you.” His voice was full of conviction. Anyone who tried to defy that would meet a gruesome fate. But Louise didn’t need to know the details. “Anyone who lays a hand on you in Birmingham will have the Peaky Blinders on them. And I’ll fucking admit I wouldn’t want those fucking animals after me. Had that happen before and can’t have that happening again. Nicer when we have an understanding.”

Louise didn’t want to linger on the fate of foolish men. “So…how many other…families are around?” She had no idea about underground criminal syndicates. She wasn’t even sure her parents knew.

“Depends on where you are. You got the Italians, Sabini. Got a few more in Camden, allies with them though. They know I run the Town.” He said a bit cockily. “Fuck there’s a gang of all women and I swear they’ve got she-devils in them. Wouldn’t cross them.”

It was funny to hear the brutal man talk about people he personally wouldn’t cross. “I thought you were the tough one around here.” She tilted her head to the side. She couldn’t imagine there was someone as ruthless as Alfie.

“Well, don’t think they’d cross me without good reason.” He rested an arm across the back of the couch and kicked his feet up on the coffee table. “It’s about balance, can’t have one bloke have all the power. You can’t go ‘round killing everyone or you’ll have their mates coming after you. Everything’s calculated. It’s not a manner of who’s deadlier, it’s ‘bout who’s smarter, cunning, yeah?”

The woman was starting to become a little nauseous at the idea. They were all walking a razor-thin rope. One misstep could kill them. She swallowed and gathered herself. “Well, it’s late. I ought to get home.” Her voice rambled out hurriedly.

“You could stay the night. It don’t matter.” He offered and stood up.

“No, I’ve pestered you long enough.” She said and cleared her throat.

The rain was still pelting like bullets against the windows. It was pitch black and hard to see past a foot ahead.

“Shouldn’t walk home in this.” Alfie shook his head. “Just stay the night, I’ll drive you in the morning if it’s still pouring.”

“No, Alfie, thank you.” She patted Cyril’s head and went for the door. The cold rain wasn’t pleasant but she still needed to process a few things about it all.

“Louise, just the night. S’fucking awful out there, don’t want ya to catch your death.” His blue eyes pled quietly.

She sighed and nodded. “Okay, just tonight.”

“Evelyn?” Alfie called up to the girl again. “Would you make up the spare room for Miss Barnes?”

“Of course, Mr. Solomons, Louise, can I draw you a bath?” The girl appeared at the staircase landing.

“No, thank you, Evelyn.” She smiled. When the girl disappeared, Louise turned to him. “Thank you for speaking with me.” She said quietly. “But, Alfie, I just want you to know that this won’t be easy for me. I will still work for you but you can imagine my…apprehension.” She didn’t want to mention her husband. She’d given him more than enough grief for that and felt like she didn’t have a leg to stand on when she realized how little she mourned the loss. But she wouldn’t become like Alfie. “I just…I wanted to apologize for yesterday and what I said. You’re not heartless. A heartless man wouldn’t let me in and listen.”

He gazed at her, feeling more than conflicted. While he knew he could have compassion, he wasn’t sure if she still wasn’t seeing him in the correct light.

“I think I know you wouldn’t hurt me.” Her lips pursed and she tugged at her dress sleeve. “You promised to protect me. But my trust is very small for anyone these days. I’m sure you could understand that.”

He nodded stiffly. “Very well…I know that very well.” She was to be trusted though, even if it was blind trust. Blindly trusting her because she was something so treasured in his eyes. The key to a damaged and hellish man’s heart. Foolish.

“Well, goodnight then.” She said and touched his arm, her fingertips grazing over the white sleeve.

Alfie stood at the base of the staircase, watching her ascend. He put his hands in his pockets as if to hide the residual blood on his hands. All the blood from every man he’d finished off. Every heart he stopped from beating. Every last breath he’d snatched out of the air. Something Louise would never understand and never see as virtuous.

He could never be virtuous for her. But he longed to have her anyway.

Masterpost

PB Masterlist

#alfie solomons #alfie solomonsxoc #alfie solomons x oc #alfie solomons imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky fookin blinders #fanfiction #ofc #oc #tom hardy #tom hardy character

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yandere-oppai · 4 years

Text

What A Sad Child

Yandere! Oc x Reader

Word count: 1,579

Note: Not Beta-Read

I normally write for original characters when I want to practice shortening my stories.

You opened the door to your shared apartment and was met with the stench of what you could closely relate to a boy’s locker room. One that was occupied by the participants of a winning game. Sweaty and pungent. You placed your belongings in their proper areas after locking the door. The living room was a mess, as it usually is after one of your long shifts. You grabbed a nearby basket and began picking up the clothes thrown around the room. As you passed by one of the nearby windows you quietly opened it to air out the room. The next item of clothing you came across was a sock that was crusted stiff. You cringed before picking up the object by its corner and throwing it into the basket. You moved on to cleaning up the empty cup ramen containers and soda bottles that were left on the coffee table.

Vacuuming and a good wipe down of the kitchen could wait till tomorrow. Right now all you wanted was a showing and to sleep. A 15-hour shift as a nursing aid did nothing for your aching back. You made your way to the bedroom and noticed another, stronger, musky scent coming from the area. When you opened the door the smell hit you full-on, causing you to gag slightly. When you opened the window to its fullest, shifting on the bed caught your attention.

“(Y/N)???” Came his tired voice. He sat up in bed, his light brown hair still messy but had an oily shine. His skin taking on the same look. The smell was coming from him.

“Anton, how long have you been in bed? You look like a mess and stink,” you said as you looked through your dresser for a change of clothes. “I have to wash the bedsheets now too.”

“I was waiting for you to come home. Why didn’t you stop by during one of your breaks?” He pouted, now standing behind you. You rolled your eyes at his antics.

“I keep telling you, you don’t need me here to bathe you. You can do that on your own. Plus the nursing home is 15 minutes away, taking a good chunk of my half-hour lunch away. That’s just a waste of gas,” you say. He follows you into the bathroom and removes his only item of clothing, his boxers. He’s grown too used to this.

“But I love you,” He grinned. More like loved the fact that you take care of him.

The shower consists of him standing in the mainstream of hot water with you getting little slivers of that warmth. Always you washing and shampooing him, but never the same in exchange. Always you cradling him. You always forget work was stressful, but this life was painful. That’s why you tried your best to stay away. Take on as many hours as you could.

Soon as the shower ended, you got the both of you ready for bed. Applying lotions and skincare to his damaged, speckled skin. Then blowdrying his hair. You simply threw on a long t-shirt. After changing the sheets you practically jumped into bed. A night of dreamless sleep is what you were hoping for. The arms that encircled your body and pulled you into an unwelcome warm reminded you that sleep was an escape.

“It’s cold mommy,” he mumbled into your neck before falling asleep. This was life.

Nights later, after staying home for your day off, things came to a head.

“Where are you going?” Came a quiet voice from the couch. Anton had been napping there for most of the day. Only getting up of his bath and meals.

You had been dressed in casual dark jeans and a bright blue button-up blouse. You sliding on your flats is what seemed to be what woke him. Your hair was different, nicer than usual. Nothing like you’d wear to work.

“I told you a week ago. One of my friends invited me to drinks. I’m about to head out,” you explained. You made your way over to the coffee table to grab the keys off of them when his hand shot out and stole them. “Anton!”

“I don’t want to go. Your days off should be with me. They don’t need you there,” he grumbles, sitting on the keys. You crossed your arms and looked at him.

“And you need me here? Anton, I haven’t seen any of them in a good month. Anytime I’m not at work, I’m here. Practically being a nanny to you!” You raised your voice a little as you tried to push him over a little.

“You do not! You’re here because that’s what couples are supposed to do. You’re supposed to show me that you love me. I can’t help that I need a little more help than others. You said you loved me for who I am!” He whined and shoved you back slightly. You were starting to get frustrated.

“That has nothing to do with the situation right now. I just want to leave. Now, get off the keys. You’re acting like a brat,” you said through gritted teeth. His antics are starting to get to you. The unsatisfactory relationship you’re in, finally getting to you.

“No! You just want to leave me. You...You hate me don’t you?!” He yelled. Causing you to be taken aback.

“Anton calm d-”

“You hate me! You hate me! You hate me!” He continued to yell.

“You know that’s not true, you-” You were cut off yet again.

“Yes, you do! You keep leaving me when you don’t have to! You want to leave and never come back! Cause you’re selfish. You know my family could take care of us financially, yet you still leave. Going to that shitty job, just so you can leave me! All because you’re SELFISH!” he bellowed.

That word, that single was the straw that broke the camel’s back. YOU were the selfish one? The one who put this man on a pedestal? The one who sacrificed so much, just so this man wouldn’t frown? The one who wanted financial independence from his parents so as to not be a burden? No, no, no. You must’ve heard him wrong.

“Did...Did you just call me selfish?” You pointed at yourself. Your voice had gotten quiet at this point. A little lower than your normal speaking tone.

“Yes. I. Did. Because that’s what you are!” He nodded his head to reaffirm himself. You took a few deep breaths. But nothing could soothe your growing nerves.

“You’re calling me selfish? When I didn’t even want to be in this relationship. You know, back in high school when you asked me out I didn’t want to say yes. But I felt bad. And when I wanted to break up after graduation? I wanted to fucking leave you as soon as possible. You were just as clingy but emotionally detached as you are now. I’m more unhappy now than I was back then,” A tear slid down your cheek as you let out a hiccup. “You just had to go and threaten me with suicide to get me to come back. Even while knowing how that affected me. You still did that. You brought me back to the worst relationship of my life. And you sit there, putting on a hissy fit because I just want to actually feel like I’m alive. Yet you call me...selfish?”

At this point he was quiet. His glare was now gone. Relaced with a wide-eyed mouth agape with shock, type of expression. Like he didn’t know he’d found all of this out just now. Like you both didn’t know the relationship was already over. You still had one more thing to say though.

“You know what, keep the keys. I’ll just call an Uber. I’ll be back for my stuff some other time. Hope you have a good life,” you began making your way to the door.

Anton finally snapped out of it and followed you like a lost puppy, calling your name. He was sobbing now. You weren’t even crying as violently as him. His wails made it sound as if he was in intense physical pain. Like he was being stabbed. You were opening the coat closet when he said something that made you pause for a moment.

“I’ll actually do it this time! I’ll kill myself! If you walk out I’ll slit my wrists in the bathtub and you’ll never hear from me again! It’ll all be your fault!” He yelled as a last-ditch effort. You still didn’t look at him.

“I’m not falling for that again,” you said. Though you will be calling emergency services as soon as you were safe in the elevator.

He ran off back in the living room. As you were pulling on your second coat sleeve on a quick piercing bash was inflicted on the back of your skull. You were stunned for a moment and reach for the back of your head. After pulling your hand back, you recognized the red crimson that stained your fingers as being blood. It was like watching a movie in slow motion. Looking up at Anton as he breathed quick angry breaths. With tears in his eyes and snot dripping out his nose. As he brought the steel vase down on your head once more you couldn’t help but think…

‘What a sad, sad child”

#yandere x reader #reader x yandere #yandere #reader insert #oc x reader #Yandere! Oc #Oppai's Ocs

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choupichoups · 5 years

Photo

Press F (Instagram/College AU) Ch.13

Lucas swears he’s the absolute master of undetected stalking. Or: Eliott is instagram famous and Lucas is the disaster gay who accidentally likes his post.

“If I lose this lighting and ambiance, I swear to god,” Abe calls out from his perch on the staircase behind Eliott, camera casually hanging in his hand by the lens. “You guys will literally see each other in a few hours, this is ridiculous.”

His ranting goes ignored and Lucas tries his hardest not to spare him a glance, keeping his eyes locked with Eliott’s while they both act as if Abe’s voice is a mere gust of wind. He nibbles on the inside of his lip to keep from bursting out laughing.

“He’s got a point.” Lucas smirks up at Eliott, who still looks a tiny bit dazed in the early hour.

“I don’t care,” Eliott says softly, hands lifting to run his thumbs across Lucas’ cheeks. “I’ll miss you either way.”

So they’re really becoming that kind of couple. Ah well, Lucas can’t find it in himself to care. “Me too.”

Eliott leans down, knocking their foreheads together. “I’ll most likely get back before you but do you have the spare key just in case?”

Lucas nods, eyes closed. Their noses brush together sweetly and the warmth of Eliott’s breath is a comfort in the midst of the chilly morning air.

“Okay, I’ll see you in a bit then,” Eliott says, but he still doesn’t make a move to leave.

Lucas’ pleased smile turns into a fit of giggles when Abe exclaims profanities in the distance.

“Jesus,” Eliott whispers between them and then, “I’m coming, quit fucking whining already!” is shouted over his shoulder. It does nothing to taper Lucas’ laughter.

“The setting, Eliott, the setting!” Abe shouts back quite desperately. Lucas takes pity on him even if Eliott doesn’t, and steps back from Eliott’s arms. The latter pouts at this, making Lucas coo and pinch his cheeks adoringly until his hands gets pulled away.

“I’ll come straight home from mass,” Lucas promises, sliding his hands out of Eliott’s tight grip.

“No, don’t do that.” Eliott shakes his head, reaching over to fix the jacket on Lucas so that the right side is no longer drooping off his shoulder. “Take her out for lunch or something, you guys deserve some bonding time, I’ll try to survive by myself,” he finishes off with a dramatic sniff.

Lucas laughs, arms climbing up to pull Eliott into another hug. He can hear Abe’s disgruntled ‘oh for god’s sake’ and it only prompts Lucas to lengthen their embrace. “Okay, have fun with your demanding photographer.”

Eliott rolls his eyes as they pull back. “This is free labour, do you know how much other people would pay to take pictures of this face?”

It’s Lucas’ turn to roll his eyes. “Careful with the ego there, Mr. Instagram Famous, you might hit your head on the way out.”

“I might hit you myself if we don’t get going,” Abe says from beside them, having apparently come closer to physically break them apart seeing as his words just aren’t cutting it. “Say hi to your mom for us, Lucas. Also ask her to pray for this guy right here, he needs it.”

Eliott decks Abe on the shoulder, turning to quickly drop a kiss on top of Lucas’ head. “See you back home, baby.”

Lucas flushes, watching Eliott and Abe bicker as they walk away. The thing is, Eliott probably doesn’t even realize what he’s just said but here Lucas stands, all sorts of dizzy as the words see you back home repeat over and over in his head— a broken record he doesn’t want to fix.

Either way, slip of the tongue or not, it feels good to have Eliott imply that Lucas has a home with him.

Eliott looks over his shoulder to where Lucas is rooted right where they left him. He shakes himself out of the dumb expression he’s most likely wearing, only for a big, dumb smile to split across his face when Eliott sneakily gives him a dumb little wave. Lucas waves back, just as dumbly.

Not many people attend the morning mass, and his mama explains that it’s because nobody wants to get up early on a Sunday, which, yeah relatable. Apparently neither does she, but the afternoon mass coincides with her book club meeting and she absolutely does not want to miss out on that.

Lucas sips on his iced coffee, wondering how he’s managed to surround himself with a bunch of nerds.

“It’s really a pity you don’t read,” she says, making Lucas choke on the ice cube he’d been rolling in his mouth. “You’re really missing out on an experience.”

“I read!” he huffs, indignant in the face of his mother’s amused smile.

“Okay, honey,” she says, placating.

“I do!”

“The textbooks your professor make you read don’t count.”

“Don’t be such a snob,” he scoffs, pretending to scowl at the laughter slipping light and airy out of her lips. He hasn’t had the chance to visit her since that last disastrous time, so caught up with his own issues as he’d been. It’s a relief to see her doing so well, though. There’d be hell to pay if his father had sent her back on a downwards spiral.

“Has your dad reached out to you regarding the transfer?”

Lucas’ head whips up and he thinks he hears something snap actually but that doesn’t matter. “You’re going through with the transfer?!”

“No, dear.” She reaches out and brushes the hair away from his outraged face. “But I wouldn’t sign the papers so I figured he’d try to go to you.”

“He did,” Lucas grumbles, chewing at the edge of his straw. “I threw them back at his face.”

“Lucas.”

“What? He deserves it.” He’s glad they’re sitting on the outside benches of the cafe so he doesn’t have to watch the volume of his voice too closely. “He was an asshole about it too, so.”

They lapse into a brief silence and Lucas slurps at the remainder of his drink while his mama picks at her sandwich.

“Don’t carry that anger in your heart, Lucas,” she says eventually, “you can’t do that forever.”

Lucas stares down at his own hands. “How can I not? How can you not?”

“All we can do is live our own lives to the best of our abilities, God will handle the rest.”

“Yeah, well, God is taking too long to handle anything.” There should be a special place in hell for people like his father. For people like Raphael. So how come they’re still out there walking around living better lives than the people they’ve hurt? Lucas doesn’t get it— especially doesn’t get how his mama can seemingly forgive his father in a blink of an eye.

“Do you know what happens if you let those kinds of thoughts fester?” She sets her fork down on the side of her plate, the salad that comes with the sandwich left untouched. She’d always hated her vegetables, a fact that he’d found hilarious back when he was a child being forced to eat his vegetables. “You’d only hurt yourself in the long run.”

Lucas lifts his eyes to where she’s already looking back at him, gaze soft. “So?”

She shakes her head. “Not so, Lucas. If you’re angry about something like this for a long time, you start thinking of ways you could have avoided the experience. You start blaming yourself for making the decisions that lead up to it.”

“Mama, it’s not your—”

“Yes, yes, it’s not my fault that your father turns out the way he is, but I can’t help thinking that way sometimes. Your thoughts are your own worst enemy.” Small hands gently lay on top of his on the table and Lucas hasn’t realized that he’s clenched them into tight fists. “Because it’s the only thing you can’t ever escape from. That is what happens when you hold onto hatred, onto anger. It’s never gonna get better that way.”

“What, I’m supposed to just forgive them?” He doesn’t even realize his slip until her eyes turn sharp, and she’s silent for a beat too long as Lucas swallows. It’d be too suspicious to correct himself now so he leaves it be.

“No,” she speaks low and careful. “You can start by forgiving yourself.”

“And what if you can’t do that either?”

Her thumbs brush soothing strokes over the back of his hand. “Then you work on it,” she says, “it might be a slow process, but you work on it, honey.” Her smile is radiant despite the obvious worry in her eyes. “Day by day.”

Day by day, he repeats in his head, letting out a huge exhale.

“Tell me one thing, Lucas.” The hardened tone in her voice has him looking up immediately. “Those clothes you’re wearing aren’t yours.” He sputters, mind racing to form half-assed excuses. “Don’t try to deny it, young man. You’re swimming in them.”

“It’s… a fashion statement!”

“Don’t lie to me.”

His mouth zips shut.

“So this boy.” Her eyes run up and down the length of his jacket as if she has some kind of special motherly x-ray vision that would allow her to see Eliott through them. “Is he the one to make you cry?” The look in her eye is nothing short of murderous.

Lucas shakes his head quite violently. “No!” He’s hoped the evidence of his tears from the past two days have disappeared by now but he guesses he can’t really hide anything under the watchful eyes of his mama.

“Okay.” She doesn’t press, which he’s eternally grateful for.

“Yeah.”

“So when am I gonna meet him then?”

“Mama.”

Lucas heads back to Eliott’s place when his mother leaves for her book club meeting. He’d pretended to huff and puff about her ditching him for her nerdy sci-fi loving friends but in the end, he’s just glad she’s found something to occupy her time— a lot of somethings actually. There’s nothing more important to him than seeing the light in her eyes as she talks, and laughs, and lives her life.

Well, maybe there’s something just as important.

There’s music playing from the speakers in the kitchen, too soft for him to hear from the doorway, but he does hear the clinking of utensils together which, in other circumstances, would bring forth a feeling of comfort. However, considering who exactly is in the kitchen right now, it bodes more ominous than anything else.

“What are you doing there?” Lucas hangs Eliott’s spare keys by the door, chucking his jacket off as Eliott guiltily turns around. He’s hiding a pot of something behind him and now that Lucas is paying attention, he notices a strange metallic smell emanating from it. “Oh no, you are leaving this kitchen right now, sir.”

“It’s my kitchen,” Eliott retorts indignantly and Lucas can’t believe this guy is a whole two years older than him. He bunches his sleeves up to his elbows, prepared to bodily shove Eliott out of the general vicinity if that’s what it takes.

“Yes, it’s your kitchen and you’re going to burn it down with your little experiments so please,” Lucas explains patiently, “step away from the stove and I’ll figure out what we can eat, hm?”

“I don’t want cheese bread.”

Lucas laughs, head thrown back as he swats at Eliott blindly. “You’re never letting that go, are you?”

“Nope.” There are hands slowly sneaking up his sides but Lucas twists away from them, cheekily biting his lip as he dances around Eliott to switch the stove off. “No, don’t!” Eliott protests, easily intercepting when Lucas tries to peek into the mysterious pot of gurgling liquid.

“I just wanna see!” But Lucas’ attempts are useless, even more so when a laughing Eliott grabs him by the waist and deposits him, pouting and arms crossed, on the kitchen counter.

“You don’t wanna see it, trust me.” Eliott finally admits, pinching Lucas’ nose fondly when he continues to pout. “We’ll just order some take out, okay?”

Lucas hums, stretching up to place his arms around Eliott’s neck, intending to pull him closer, but he’s forgotten to unroll the sleeves of his hoodie and Eliott’s eyes lock onto the exposed skin of his wrists. Bruises on him always look their worst two days into forming and these ones are no different— the mottled blues and purples are admittedly distracting and even Lucas winces at the sight of them.

The mirth in Eliott’s eyes are quick to dull and Lucas can’t begin to guess what’s going through his mind.

“Hey.” He pulls Eliott’s chin up, smiling in hopes of relieving the displeased furrow between Eliott’s brows. The expression pinches at his heart. “It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

“Okay,” Eliott whispers, and Lucas thinks he only says it for Lucas’ benefit. Eliott brings his wrists up and gently places his lips over the bruising, tiny little pecks that send warm speckles straight to his chest. “How’s your mom?”

“She’s good.” Lucas loosely curls one leg around Eliott’s waist to tug him in, shaking out his arms so that the sleeves fall loosely down to the tips of his fingers. It’s easier to lift his hands and run them through Eliott’s hair this way, when all he can see is the dark fabric of Eliott’s hoodie rather than unwelcome reminders of what’s passed. “Still busy with her book club, I don’t know how they manage to read that many books in such a short time,” he snorts. “Oh, and she attends culinary lessons now.”

“Really?” Eliott says, raising an eyebrow when Lucas looks up at him with a teasing grin.��

“Yup, maybe you should join her, it’d be for the greater good.”

Eliott’s eyes form adorable curves as he laughs. “But I don’t cook for the greater good.”

“Hm, okay, for my good then.” Lucas scratches along the back of Eliott’s head, smiling when his boyfriend leans into the touch, emitting a pleased groan.

Boyfriend. He can use that term again, right?

It’s a stupid thing to be thinking about, propped up on the counter with Eliott’s hands anchored around his thighs, standing so close as if a single inch between them would cause physical pain.

Eliott’s phone buzzes near where Lucas is seated and the latter reaches over, laughing when he sees Idris’ name multiple times on the notification banner. Eliott reacts similarly and then confusingly ends it in a groan— Lucas shoots him a quizzical glance but Eliott just shakes his head and thunks his forehead on Lucas’ shoulder.

“Forgot I said I’d go shopping with him for his sister’s birthday,” Eliott mumbles, turning to bury his face into Lucas’ neck. “Can you cancel on him for me?” he continues, teeth tickling at the skin there, causing Lucas to shiver. He can feel Eliott starting to smile, breath warm as he kisses the spot he’d nipped and, okay, this needs to stop now before his boyfriend-slash-not-boyfriend gets any more ideas.

“That’s rude,” Lucas says a little too loudly, flailing as he tries his best to open up Eliott’s phone without dislodging him. Eliott’s full on chuckling by now and Lucas doesn’t appreciate this being at his expense, thank you very much. “You should go if you promised.”

“I didn’t promise—”

Lucas gives him a look.

Eliott sighs, “I just wanna be with you.”

How dare this man child be so adorable? “I can go with you guys if it’s okay with him.”

Eliott lights up at the suggestion. “Yeah! He’ll be fine with it, he really likes you. It’s a little worrying, honestly.”

Lucas laughs, meaning to fire back with a teasing, better watch out then, but when he unlocks Eliott’s phone, the screen it opens up to isn’t the chat with Idris and Eliott— it’s to Lucas and Eliott’s chat, where the messages from Friday remain to be the last thing that’s been sent. Lucas remembers seeing Eliott frequently looking down at his phone yesterday and this morning whenever he thinks Lucas isn’t paying attention. He’d assumed that Eliott had been reading up on his classes online or something and definitely not, well, whatever’s going on here.

“Eliott.” He taps on Eliott’s shoulder, making him look up from where he’s breathing softly against the side of Lucas’ neck. The loss of Eliott’s warmth isn’t exactly ideal but there are more pressing issues at hand. “Why do you keep looking at these?” He turns the phone around, watching Eliott’s expression morph from its content daze to a quick curtain of vacancy. “Hey, don’t do that,” Lucas says, running his thumb under Eliott’s downturned eyes.

“I don’t know,” Eliott mutters, moving to grab his phone from Lucas’ hold but Lucas pulls away, hiding it behind him. “I can’t stop thinking about it. Fucking… Eliott 3259 probably had his phone switched on and— and Eliott 9867 would already be there waiting to walk home with his Lucas before closing. Number 5437 would have, I don’t fucking know, convinced his Lucas out of working that shift. I can’t stop thinking of everything I could have done differently. Of everything that would have happened differently if I were a better version of myself—”

Lucas uses his free hand to grab the back of Eliott’s head, arching up into him to bring their faces close together as he wordlessly shakes his head, their eyes locked on each other. It works to slow Eliott down and Lucas can feel him exhaling through his nose.

“What if something like this happens again, Lucas? What if 2 weeks, 2 months, 2 years from now, you need me and I’m not there? What if I can’t be there? What if next time, I’m too late?” Eliott says, quiet words pouring out in the small space between them. “I just can’t stop thinking about it.”

Lucas holds them in that position for a second longer, closing his eyes as he thinks of what Eliott’s just told him. He gets it, really, if he allows himself to plunge into the darkest part of his mind, he’d also be spiralling into similar trains of thought— of not being strong enough for Eliott, of not being good enough for someone so fucking special, because truth be told, if they’re pointing fingers here, none of this would have happened if Lucas had just watched his mouth during that time at the clinic with Eliott.

But no, as a wise lady once told him, they can’t keep dwelling on those things. They have got to stop doing that to themselves.

He leans back slightly, just far enough so that he’s able to bring Eliott’s phone in front of him. He opens it back up to their messages, hits the back button, and promptly deletes their entire chat history. Eliott practically shrieks at that, almost making Lucas laugh despite the heaviness still hanging above their heads.

“Why did you do that?” Eliott whispers, wide eyed as he stares helplessly down at the phone in Lucas’ hand. Lucas knows the sentimental idiot is mourning the loss of their first exchange, the sweet good night messages, the shameless flirting. None of that matters, though, because Lucas has a better plan in motion.

“Because we’re going to start over,” he says, plopping the phone into Eliott’s slack hands. Eliott fiddles with it, still in shock from what Lucas has just done. “We’re going to start over,” he repeats, more firmly this time as he nudges Eliott’s chin upward. “And we’re not gonna think of what we could have done differently. We fucked up, yeah, but we’re here aren’t we?”

He waits patiently for Eliott to nod, which he does soon enough, if a little begrudgingly. Lucas allows a chuckle to pass through his lips. “And we’re also not going to think of what’s going to happen because there’s literally no point in that, we’d be stressing over nothing. We don’t know shit about the future.”

Eliott huffs, “Okay, so what can we do then?” There’s a hint of that lovely little smile tugging at the corner of his lips and Lucas brushes a finger to it.

“What we can do… is live it day by day,” he says, echoing his mother’s words from earlier, but then he thinks of how an entire day can get overwhelming at times, hours upon hours of the unknown, and shakes his head. “No, wait.”

“No?” Eliott’s smiling face greets him when Lucas looks up.

“No,” he says, “We’ll do it minute by minute.”

Eliott steps into his space and Lucas hears the soft thud of his phone dropping on the counter. “So what are we doing for the next minute?”

“I don’t know,” he responds, coy smirk at the ready. “You pick.”

When Eliott kisses him, Lucas inhales, deep and audible, only to feel the breath he’s taken leave his lungs a mere second after. Eliott has a hand gently cupping one side of his face while the other wraps big and warm over his thigh. That hand climbs up, up, up until it’s secured around Lucas’ waist and he feels himself being dragged closer, now only seated by the edge of the counter.

It dawns on him, startlingly, that this is the first kiss they’ve shared since that mess of a Saturday too long ago and, well, now he wants more of it.

Lips parting easily, he throws his arms around Eliott’s shoulders, tightening like a vice grip when Eliott goes to pull away too quickly for his liking. It makes Eliott chuckle, which prompts Lucas to punch him lightly on the chest, which then forces a bigger laugh out of Eliott, and it just becomes a vicious cycle of push and pull until they’re both laughing into each other’s mouths, unable to stop long enough for a proper kiss.

“You’re so dumb,” Lucas breathes out, half heartedly shoving Eliott away. Eliott anchors his hands on the corners of the counter and bounces back into Lucas’ space with ease.

“You started it,” Eliott says, dropping a tiny kiss on the tip of Lucas’ nose. It scrunches up in retaliation.

“And how exactly did I—”

But Eliott doesn’t let him finish, dipping down to connect their lips softly, pressing harder as they open up in synch. Eliott pulls and pulls until slipping completely off the counter becomes a legitimate worry for Lucas and he tries to put all his weight backwards, one hand around Eliott’s neck just in case he does lose balance while his free hand feels around for something sturdy to hold onto.

His hand accidentally hits the speakers at the other end of the counter and the volume ratchets up, blasting the kitchen with, what the fuck, booming dubstep music that have no business entering Lucas’ ears. The sudden noise scares the living shit out of Lucas while Eliott… looks worryingly delighted.

“This is a sick one,” Eliott says, carefully fixing up Lucas’ perch on the counter so that he’s no long in danger of falling off before pulling away, completely, like an inconsiderate bastard, just so he can—

Lucas looks on in wonder, flabbergasted as Eliott starts jumping and rolling his arms and dancing (can he even call it that?) to the atrocity coming from the speakers.

“Fuck,” Lucas mumbles, biting his bottom lip against the laughter bubbling up his throat. “Are you for real?”

Eliott gives him an offended look, as if he’s the one who has the right to be offended in this scenario. “Yeah?”

“God, it’s like… I’m in the twilight zone or something.” He’s not sure what Eliott sees in his face but whatever it is gets a giggle out of him. Lucas shakes his head. “When you think you’ve found the man of your dreams but it turns out he listens to fucking dubstep.”

Eliott’s entire body freezes one second and then he’s rushing back into Lucas’ space the next, megawatt smile perfectly in place to blind a surprised Lucas. “Say that again.”

“What?” Lucas asks, still blinking from the sheer joy displayed over Eliott’s face.

“I’m your what?”

“My…”

“Come on, you said it!”

Lucas slowly figures out what he means but he refuses to repeat himself— he can already feel the fierce blush rising up his cheeks just from Eliott looking at him the way he’s doing right now. Lucas would actually drop dead if he has to say those words again. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Yes, you did.”

“Nope,” he denies, turning away when the heat in his face feels too much to handle.

“I heard you say it.” Eliott nudges at him with his nose, reminding Lucas of a giant puppy.

“If you heard me then you don’t need me to repeat it.” Lucas makes to hop off the counter, hopefully to escape Eliott’s grasp in the process, but of course it doesn’t go the way he wants it to— Eliott grips him by the waist and digs his fingers in until Lucas yelps, squirming away from the ticklish sensation. “Stop that!”

“Not until you say it.”

“Eliott!”

Running away is fruitless, Eliott only places him right back where he started for every time Lucas manages to slip halfway into a standing position. His laughter is louder than his protests and Eliott’s chuckling right along with him, only slowing down when Lucas hangs onto his shoulders weakly, breathless as he whispers the words right into Eliott’s ear.

“What?”

“Well now you’re just being a dick.”

“No, sorry, please just one more time, baby,” Eliott implores.

“You’re…” He stalls, enjoying the childlike anticipation in Eliott’s clear blue eyes. “The dude of my life.”

A pause. “That’s not it.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“Lucas!”

“The weirdo of my dreams.”

“Fuck’s sake.”

“You’re so fucking demanding.”

“Lucas,” Eliott’s straight up whining.

Lucas huffs, squishing his boyfriend’s — because yes, that’s what they are again — cheeks together while Eliott resumes his sulking. Lucas kisses the pout off his face, hands sliding down to Eliott’s neck as he places another innocent little kiss on his lips. “You’re the man of my dreams.”

He doesn’t get a warning before Eliott scoops him right into his arms and squashes him into possibly the tightest, warmest, most enthusiastic embrace he’s ever been subjected to.

Breathing is going to be a challenge soon enough but Lucas doesn’t say a thing.

“Did you hear that?” Eliott suddenly crouches down and Lucas realizes that Champ has woken from her nap and has toddled over to check out the commotion in the kitchen. “You heard that right? He said I’m the man of his dreams,” Eliott says, looking at Champ expectantly. She stares back at him with blank, beady eyes.

Lucas laughs at the pair until a different dubstep song comes on and Eliott gasps, looking excited all over.

“Jesus,” Lucas groans out, wiping a hand over his face as Eliott starts dancing again, this time with Champ running circles around his ankles. Eliott’s eyes are focused on the little dog, careful not to step on her while at the same time engaging as if they’re supposed to be dancing together.

It’s ridiculous. Eliott’s ridiculous.

Lucas is ridiculously in love.

“Eli monkey?”

Eliott groans, taking his phone from Lucas. “It’s from when we were kids.”

“That’s cute.” Lucas laughs, untangling his limbs from Eliott so he can get up from the couch.

“Where are you going?” Eliott asks, winding his arms around Lucas to prevent him from leaving.

“I’m gonna change into my clothes.”

“Why?”

“Mama made fun of me for wearing yours.”

Eliott’s head perks up, smile giddy as his arms tighten— Lucas doesn’t even attempt to struggle out of it. “So she knows about me?”

“No, not really…” His eyes slide sideways, gauging Eliott’s reaction. “Do you… want her to?”

“If you want to.”

“So you want to.”

“Do you?”

“Oh my god,” Lucas sighs, exasperated. Eliott’s laughing into his shoulders by now, likely aware of the difficult time he’s giving Lucas. “You’re so annoying.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“She asked when she can meet you,” Lucas mumbles, tracing the veins running up Eliott’s arms to occupy his eyes. He’s too nervous to have this conversation otherwise.

“Anytime,” Eliott answers a little too fast. Lucas tucks a smile behind his own hand, stupidly pleased with that response. He’s been dying to replace the memories of Eliott and his mother being in the same vicinity with more pleasant ones and he can’t wait for it to finally happen.

“Okay.”

“I’m still changing clothes though, so get off of me, you giant octopus.”

#skam france #elu fic #elu #elu insta au #fictag #@ universe @ skamfr team @ david baguette this is me begging #post it pls #also known as the chapter where i test tumblr's photo limit

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kindofwriter · 5 years

Text

Dr Jekyll’s Suicide Note

This is never going in my final draft, I’m sticking to 3rd person, it’s more of a guide of what’s going on in Jekyll’s life. Sorry for the deterioration in quality towards the end, I’m still figuring out how I’m going to execute that part!

I suppose all this started the very day I was born. My mother, a lawyer, and my father, a successful owner of an industrial company, always expected so much of me. Academically it was no struggle to exceed these expectations, but on a personal level I always seemed to disappoint. They wanted me to be meek, quiet, distastefully arrogant. I wanted to get tipsy, make out with boys, and be that friendly kind of arrogant that’s actually quite endearing: I hope.

So I committed myself to a life of duplicity.

At home I would be the uppity golden child my parents had always coveted, and the second I escaped their clutches I would be rowdy and curious; like a regular person. This would’ve been a fine arrangement, had I not so frequently got myself into trouble. The second time I was delivered home by the police was the last straw for my parents. I was nothing short of incarcerated until my university days.

But what they didn’t realise was that this repression only fuelled my desire to wreck havoc. My thoughts turned from underage jaunts to the pub to theft, brutality, even murder on occasion, but only that of my parents. I wanted to suffocate them like they had suffocated me. Those were the daydreams of an angry child, however. I would never follow through in reality.

Those lonely years spent locked in my room made me yearn to be another person, and it was then that I began my life’s work: actually becoming someone else.

At first I conceptualised a way to transfer my consciousness to another body, but all that was far too complicated. And anyway, I’m no Victor Frankenstein. So then my thoughts progressed to how I could alter my appearance.

I threw myself into the study of chemistry so devoutly I now find myself with a PhD in it. For a while I found that lab work and shallow friendships could distract me from the rage that burned inside my chest, but alas it was no long term solution. If anything, my mastery inflamed the issues, thrusting me into the public eye. I now had my reputation to consider when I wanted to get blackout drunk and throw beer cans in the Thames.

And what of my sexuality? I felt no shame in it, but I knew there were many doctors who would refuse to consider my research on this basis. Must I remain chaste my entire life lest I wish to peruse my passion?

No. I quit my job and dove back into my research.

It was gruelling. Lots of experiments gone wrong, many leaving me bed-ridden for days. I was manic in my desires.

But finally, years into my research, I had done it. One shot of this serum and my cherubic features would melt away, leaving me with hollow eyes and sharp cheeks and a diminutive frame. But my mind was still in tact. Or so I thought.

For a month or so I encountered no errors with my serum. It allowed me to masquerade as a fine young gentleman as I drank myself into oblivion and engaged in public displays of affection. Finally I could continue my contributions to the world of chemistry without feeling the need to repress my humanity.

And then something began to go wrong.

I began to transform without the use of the serum.

At first it was nothing to worry about. The only occurrences were when I allowed my mind to wander to the darker pleasures of life, and once transformed it was easy for me to control my behaviours.

Really I should have seen this as a red flag, but I was desperately in denial. For the first time since childhood I was experiencing freedom; the light, tingling ecstasy of being human. I’d made a deal with the devil to get it, but God be damned for all He’d ever done for me!

So I ignored the slight glitch in my system, instead electing to inform Poole that my new friend Mr Hyde would be frequenting the house, often in my absence but always with my permission.

Then of course, as I’m sure you know if you’re reading this, things worsened.

Edward Hyde was just a pseudonym I had constructed, a way of ensuring I would never slip up and reveal my true nature. But several months into my use of the serum he was beginning to develop thoughts and ambitions of his own.

It started off as overtly rude behaviour I would never have wilfully engaged in, but could easily pass off as me getting swept up in my new persona. But soon I was watching myself throw vicious punches, abuse my body with vile substances, and even purchase a house in Hyde’s name!

I had no control over this man! I had surpassed the ability to alter my appearance; I had created an entirely new person.

Hyde was born out of hatred, jealousy, and shame, and he acted like he knew it. If I was short-tempered, he was explosively violent. If I was selfish, he was narcissistic. If I was gluttonous, he was all-consuming, hedonistic greed.

I no longer had any control over when I transformed, and what I did after the matter. I was at the mercy of Mr Hyde, and he was not a kind master.

My one confort was that when Hyde collapsed into bed at the first tendrils of dawn, I would usually awaken in my own body, fully in control, if exhausted. Instead of relishing in the freedom Hyde had given me I began to feel trapped again, suffocated, desperately awaiting the hour when I would be free of Hyde.

Panic rolled in like a storm when, one morning, that hour never came.

I awoke in the home Hyde had purchased for himself in Soho, warm and dozy and grateful to have been returned to my former self. Things felt a certain degree of uncanny from the moment I became conscious, but I hadn’t been feeling myself for a while now, even in my own body.

Hyde’s various drug habits and vicious scraps had no impact on my physical body, but always inflicted a hazy sickness on my mind. The turmoil lost me a great deal of sleep and significantly reduced my appetite. All my life I assumed losing weight would be a pleasant sensation, but it only made me feel alienated from my own form.

But that morning I found I was experiencing more than the usual dysmorphia.

As I reached my hand up to draw back the duvet I saw not my own pale knuckles and perfectly manicured nails, but Hyde’s grimy fingers and bloodied hand.

Heart palpating with anxiety, I dressed in a rush and hurried home. Once in my lab I realised I actually had no conceivable plan.

The serum, which I had had no need for in months, was kept in a fridge under the worktop. It was the only project I had worked on in years, so was really the only substance in my lab.

In a fit of blind panic, I stabbed myself with a needle full of it.

Realising what I’d done, a whole new wave of panic engulfed me. But that was quickly replaced with the agony of cracking bones and melting flesh. I was certain I had killed myself, and the thought brought a strange sort of peace.

But then the pain subsided and I found my body had been returned to me.

I thought I was rid of Hyde then. Tentatively, I began to piece my old life back together; reaching out to friends, working on a simple paper on combustion, eating more than my share of deep fried breakfast foods. I began to engage in new activities, too. Soup kitchens, hospital visits, public gardening.

I had it. What I’d been so desperately trying to achieve with Edward Hyde, I finally had it. Freedom. Happiness. Fulfilment. I spent my days doing activities that made me believe in the literal soul, and my evenings in such a way that made me believe in the metaphorical one.

It couldn’t last, however. Scarcely had my head hit the pillow one night when I found myself awake again: and Hyde was awake, too.

He didn’t even bother to change out of my pyjamas. So long had Hyde been trapped at the back of my mind, he came out like a tornado.

He proceeded towards the Thames, stopping only to purchase LSD and to kick a poor homeless man. He lumbered along after an older gentleman who, God bless his soul, repeatedly glanced behind him in fear. Hyde sneered at him, so he crossed the street to walk along the side of the Thames.

Hyde crossed after him.

The man turned to confront Hyde, edging backwards as he did, but before he could even utter a coherent sentence he had stepped through a gap in the railings and into the water.

I screamed and reached out for him, but of course I was a mere consciousness, and had no voice with which to scream nor hands to reach.

The Thames is a perilous place for the strongest of swimmers; I knew without a flotation aid this old man would never survive.

Surely, I thought, Hyde would not be so cruel as to let this man die.

He strolled towards the railing, but made no attempt to remove the buoyancy aid. Instead he watched, head tilted in morbid curiosity, as the man thrashed beneath the surface of the water.

If I’d had eyes I would have been crying.

If I’d had lungs I would have been screaming.

But Hyde just watched. Watched the tumultuous waters. Watched as they grew still. Watched as the man’s last breath floated to the surface.

Then he shook his shoulders and continued on his way.

The next morning, reunited with my body, I was violently sick.

My initial thought was that I would report the crime myself. Find Ms Enfield and tell her everything. It’s not as though I’m deserving of anything more than a life in prison, what with the knowledge that this vile and careless apathy dwells within my soul.

The only thing holding me back was the thought of transformation. Were one to occur while I was incarcerated, which seemed exponentially likely at this point in time, I would be tortured to death in the name of scientific research. As despicable as I am I could not resign myself to that fate.

Thus, I tried to carry on as before.

My dearest, dearest Gabe, I trust you are reading this letter and know what comes next.

I apologise, but I must say it is true: I am desperately and inconceivably in love with you. I understand that it is not flattering to have a vile creature such as myself confess his undying adoration of you, but as you read this letter I will have parted with my last breaths, and thus will have nothing left to lose.

Please believe me when I say that I so desperately wanted to kiss you that night, but this monster inside me did not. He feels only lust, which cannot compare to the deep, profound love I have harboured for you for so long. Forgive me for pulling away. I could not live with myself if he had hurt you.

I used the rest of my serum to transform that night, but I knew it wouldn’t last. At a loss, and far too ill to operate my own lab, I paid a visit to Hatty. She greeted me, as usual, with slight warmth, masked by overwhelming distain.

As I began my explanation as to why I needed her help I felt myself beginning to lose control. The transformation was never painful, not like it was when I transformed back into myself, but it was as familiar to me as putting on a shirt.

Hatty gawked at Hyde in horror, unable to even utter a sound. She was a perfect still from a horror film.

I fled.

I think at that moment we both realised it was over. It would not be difficult for Hatty, world-renowned chemist, to prove my transformation. Hyde wanted to kill her, I could feel it in his mind, but he had been thrown at Harry’s witness to our transformation so I had, quite literally, taken the body and ran with it.

We entered my lab. I locked the door.

Hyde was stronger than me. I had known this for a while now. He screamed and hammered on the door and wrestled for control. It was like trying to reign in a wild animal.

I took a scalpel and impaled it in my thigh. Hyde roared in pain, but I, merely a numb observer, managed to keep my wits about me.

I think perhaps that’s why I’m not so afraid of what’s to come. I won’t feel it. It’s him who has to endure the rush of agony, and I don’t feel the slightest sympathy for him.

This really has been a long time coming. Hatty’s expression, one of such pure terror, such disgust and fear, but at the same time one that said all her suspicions had been confirmed, that was the last straw.

To Hatty, Hyde was never the monster; it has always been me.

That’s the one thing we have in common, I suppose. We both know that Henry Jekyll is the real monster.

Well, now I lay that monster to rest. I am truly, from the bottom of my empty soul, sorry.

Thanks for reading!

#writeblr #writing #the strange case of dr jekyll and mr hyde #jekyll and hyde #wip: jekyll and hyde #short story #tw: suidice #tw: depression #tw: body dysmorphia #author’s note

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olboypacman · 5 years

Text

9. When Angela (Arella) Met Trigon (Trigon the Benevolent)

A/N: I don’t own Teen Titans.

She hisses in pain as the necessary mark is cut into the back of her neck.

“We’ll meet our lord Scath soon, sister Angela.” Says a fellow member of the church.

The sting of the cut is further agitated as the same member attends the fresh cut with hemostatic medicine.

“OK, I’m going to cauterize the marking, sister.” The member of the church grabs a finer-than-normal red-hot poker from a nearby fireplace. “Ready?”

“Yes, for the glory of Scath.” Responds Angela.

“For the glory of Scath.”

The verbal salute of The Church of Blood being her only warning, the member of the church brings the poker to the wound on her neck.

She hisses once more, barley betraying how painful the cauterization is.

This pain is nothing.

Nothing compared to what I’ve had to endure.

To say Angela Roth had hard life would be a massive understatement.

Born of an absent of father and a mother who passed away during delivery, she was born into being a ward of the state in Gotham City.

Ever since she can remember, she’s been passed around from one orphanage to the next (and a few adoptive parents).

Angela, for one reason or another, was the constant the target of physical and verbal abuse of the other orphans, the adults who were in charge at the orphanages and a few of the households she was adopted by.

As a result, she became completely numb to most things around her by the time she was a teenager.

She was withdrawn, and hesitant even trying to connect with other people.

At times it seemed as if she was merely a passenger in her own life.

Once, she in a rare showing of self-expression had gotten a 3rd eye chakra stone piercing on her forehead. Unfortunately for her, the family who’s care she was placed in at the time was a staunchly conservative one. The small body modification was met with swift, loud and violent reprisal from the family’s patriarch. Which left a scar on her forehead that hasn’t completely healed to this day.

This had been the last straw for the young Angela Roth.

She had run away, abandoning the system and familial structures that had failed her time and again.

But life on the streets of Gotham hadn’t been any kinder.

She’d managed to avoid the fate that befell most young girls lost to the streets, but she’d still managed to fall into drugs in order to cope with her despondent life. To fuel her habit she’d boosted, pick-pocketed and worked regrettably as a waitress at both The Stacked Deck and later a bartender at The Iceberg Lounge.

She’d once even ran afoul of the city’s resident billionaire, Bruce Wayne. She’d attempted to pick his pocket one time while working at The Iceberg Lounge. He’d recognized her from the lounge, almost immediately knowing what happened and confronted her. He’d thankfully allowed the dejected teenager to keep the spoils of her plunder and didn’t even turn her into the police or her boss on the condition he take his card.

“Should you need anything at all don’t hesitate to the number on card,” he said, as he handed to specialized black card with gold lettering to the young lady.*

Either out of pride, stupidity or what-not, she never bothered to called him.

She was eventually arrested on possession and tried to serve her time.

She wasn’t sure if it was out of happenstance or purposeful.

But she had crossed paths with Bruce Wayne once more.

It was by his petitioning the court that prevented her from doing significant prison time and getting the necessary help to kick her drug habit.

There she met a charismatic man on the staff named Abel.

Despite being only a C.O, Abel had the respect and admiration of staff and inmate alike.

His friendly brown eyes and inviting smile were a constant source of comfort during this time for her.

To her, he was like the big brother or father figure she’d been waiting for her entire life.

He’d coaxed her out of her shell.

She even credited him for helping her eventually rid herself of her addiction.

During the closing weeks and days of her sentence, Abel had propositioned her to join him.

“Angela, will you join others like herself; those brothers and sisters cast aside because they fail to meet the plastic expectations of this society. Will you join me in The Church of Blood?” He asked emphatically.

She didn’t hesitate.

“Sister?” Asked the member of the church. “The mark is set, as is everything else. Are you prepared to meet our lord?”

“Yes.” She replied simply, throwing her hair behind her.

The short walk to the alter did little to expel the nervous energy within Angela. Her eyes met Abel’s, which is enough to quell most of the nerves within her. She joins him at the candle-beleaguered alter just in front of him.

He’s wearing regal red robes befitting of the archbishop of a church. The robe has a white cross going across the torso, the ‘t’ of which is situated at the chest. He also has a silver necklace, with a black and red medallion at the end. The red of the medallion belonging to stylized red ‘S’ at its center. The remaining members of the church are dressed similarly colored robes with the with cross and no necklaces. She herself is dressed in a royal blue cloak, with a long sleeveless black dress with no designs or markings. Her assorted brothers and sisters quietly chanting.

“The mark, Sister Angela. Show me.” Requests Abel.

She obliges, turning her back to him and parting her hair behind her neck.

“Perfect,” he says simply. He places his hands on the shoulders of Angela. “Sister, at my side.”

He puts his hands together chanting in rhythm with the fellow members of the church.

“Veniet dominus noster fructum. Odoretur sacrificium nostrum, ut gemma forte Siredus. Veniet dominus noster fructum. Odoretur sacrificium nostrum, ut gemma forte Siredus.”** They chant.

Abel’s voice then booms above the rest of his brothers and sisters.

“Veniet dominus noster fructum! Odoretur sacrificium nostrum, ut gemma forte Siredus!”

At once a strong wind propels threw the church to the alter, blowing out all the candles. As fast as they went out, they reignited ten times as hot and bright as they were before. The flames have taken on a bright red hue. The fires of the candles leave the wicks, swirling at middle of the alter right in front of Abel and Angela.

As if one had a mind of its own, an ember from the cyclone of fire hurls itself at Angela. She collapses, as she’s embedded in a hue matching the flaming cyclone. Her ‘brothers’ and ‘sisters’ continue to chant, completely oblivious to her plight. The ember burns her intensely, but miraculously leaves her clothes, hair and skin unmarked. Eventually the glow of the flames begins to recede to the stylized ‘S’ carved in the back of her neck, the pain fading with it.

Her brothers and sisters have stopped chanting.

As Angela tries to find her footing, the flaming cyclone begins to come to a stop. They then begin to shape and couture into the shape of being. The fires are then expelled as it appears the being behind the expels the flames from its body, revealing the large figure of what’s supposed to be their lord. He’s dressed head-to-toe in black, his angry red arms revealed by short sleeves of his top. They immediately go to his chest as he folds them. But what Angela takes notice of first is his eyes. His cold black sclera, and dimly glowing iris’ take in his surroundings and seem to give off an air of disappointment. His brows are creased seemingly in the same disappointment in his eyes, the crease continuing to his flat wide nose. She also notices his face, which is framed by shoulder length white hair, is as red as folded arms. His black lips are turned in a snarl, revealing what appears to be sharp looking fangs.

His eyes meet hers, and a look of shock and recognition hit his face. It returns to a neutral expression as he proclaims loudly: “Do you people honestly have nothing better to do!”

Murmurs among the members of the church begin to overtake the room.

“Lord Scath!” Screams Abel, “it is with great reverence I welcome you to the current congregation of the Church of Blood.” He gestures to Angela, “We offer this young lady here as tribute for you, Lord Scath.”

“Tribute…?” Exclaims Angela. She’s immediately seized by both wrists by members of the church. “Release me! Now!” She yelled futilely struggling against her now captors.

“Where’s the current Brother Blood?” Asks he who was identified as Scath.

“Sebastian’s abandoned us. He’s taken to training and recruiting young metahumans for his purposes some time ago. For all intents and purposes, I’m the defacto leader of the church.”

Scath once more turns his vison to Angela. “This young lady, who is she?”

“She’s an unremarkable,” says Abel. The sting of his words piercing Angela, as his looks at her with new found contempt. “Some drug addled urchin we cleaned up for you, my lord. She’s yours to sire…”

“Release her.” Interrupts Scath. “Release her, now.” He commands, as Angela continues to struggle against her captors.

Angela’s former ‘brothers’ seem stupefied at being addressed by their lord, looking between Scath and Abel for some kind of confirmation from the two.

“Fine,” mutters Scath. Angela’s two captors are then enveloped in a black aura and lifted into the air by some unseen force. The aura begins to brighten as the men start to scream in pain, the screams intensifying the brighter the aura glows. The auras reach a sun-like brightness, all present covering their eyes from the light.

Theirs screams have stopped. And when her eyes are uncovered all traces of the two members of the church are gone.

And she can’t help but realize the vague smell of burnt meat on her nostrils.

“You,” he addresses Angela, “behind me, now!”

Not wishing to share the fate of her ‘brothers’, she complies right away. “Please don’t kill me,” she whispers in a small voice.

“Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you.”

“Lord Scath! There’s no need to spare this woman the dignity. Do with her what you will, so the prophecy may commence.” Says Abel.

Scath sighs audibly. “I’m guessing you were the current Brother Blood’s understudy?” Replied Scath.

“Yes, but what does that have to do with anything?” Said able, irritably.

“The Bloods haven’t changed much through the generations.”

“Don’t talk of that fool to me. I am the archbishop of the church! I will lead our brothers and sisters in these most trying times!”

Scath eyeballs Abel; seemingly unimpressed by what he sees, he replies: “You are more like your masters than realize. Taking in the naive and innocent, using them for your own purposes. And discarding them the moment it becomes convenient. You are more like your masters than you realize.”

Abel doesn’t reply to being dressed down by the demon lord.

“The young lady and I will be taking our leave now.” Scath’s iris’s glow briefly. “Unless anyone has any objections?” He says eyeballing everyone else at alter.

It seems any objections are wisely held back.

“Great,” says Scath, “young lady, let’s get out here.”

Angela makes her way to Scath’s side, readying to leave. The assorted members of the church part as the couple makes their way through.

“Do you have anything you’d like to take with you? I highly doubt we’ll be making a return here.” Scath addressed Angela.

“Um...yes my lord. I’ll lead you to my quarters.”

“You know don’t have to address me so formally, um. I’m sorry, young lady. What is your name?”

“Angela, lord Scath. Angela Roth.”

“Trigon.”

“I’m sorry?”

“My name, it’s Trigon. Scath is more like a family name, or to be more precise, the name of my clan. And please, you don’t have to call me ‘lord.’ I haven’t been a lord in very long time.”

A tense silence sits between the pair, as Angela packs her belongings.

“So,” begins Trigon, “this going to be a little awkward, but do you know what that ritual was for Angela?”

“I was told it was to summon you,” she begins as she continues to pack, “ your summoning was to strengthen the faith of the members of the church and to quell any nonbelief that may have existed.” She laughs sullenly to herself as she shakes her head. She places her gaze to Trigon. “I guess the latter was achieved. I was to be you emissary, which was why I branded with your mark.” She turns around, parting her hair relevealing the mark of Scath on the back of her neck. “Though you’re not exactly what I was told you’d look like.”

“Oh, I’ll have you know I’m quite the looker, at least mother says so.” Replies Trigon, indignantly.

“I didn’t say you weren’t handsome, lord…I mean Trigon.” She said in small voice blushing, looking away from him. “Wait… the ritual. Why did you ask me about it?”

Trigon begins to laugh awkwardly as he scratches his cheek. “Well it’s pretty convenient you find me handsome, ‘cause that ritual kind of, sort of made us,” he mumbles the remaining statement, trialing off.

“I’m sorry, could you say that again?”

He mumbles one more time.

“Could you please speak up!?”

“We’re married now. There, satisfied?”

“So now what? You drag me to hell live out the rest of my life in wedded bliss?” Snaps a despondent Angela.

“No that’d be a bad idea. I’d have to hear from Neron and Augustus about…” Trigon trails off once more. “Actually, that’s not important. What’s important is that you now fall under my protection. I won’t hold this union over your head, but you must know; you are forever bound to me. That mark on your neck ensures that.”

Angela’s eyes begin to water as what Trigon said begins to take hold and what this means begins to make itself clear.

Wife to some kind of demon lord of indiscriminate origin. I guess it’s a step-up from emissary. She laments bitterly. What will become of me? Will he incinerate me like my brothers who tried to hold me down at the alter? Is he benevolent? He’s shown me kindness thus far.

Angela begins to openly weep, crossing her arms over her chest; the gesture bringing her very little comfort.

Trigon closes the distance between them. He cups her cheek, tilting her face up wiping the tears from her cheek. His caress is gentler than would expect from someone his size. She nuzzles into his touch, it oddly bringing her comfort.

“Did they do this to you?” He asks running his other hand over the scar on her forehead.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“I can heal…”

“Just get me out of here, Trigon!” She interrupts. “I’m just ready for this day to be over.”

“Okay.” He says calmly. “Okay. Just finish packing and I’ll take you…some place.”

He backs away from her, walking to a wall leaning on it as Angela finishes getting her things in order.

His eyes go to a black card on the floor; its edges rounded and crinkled. It’s clearly seen better days. He leaves his perch on the wall going straight for the card. He takes it off the ground, reading the stylized gold letters; his eyes shimmering in recognition.

“Alright, got I’ve everything important here. Oh, that old thing.”

“Do you know, Bruce?”

“Not really. He did a few favors for me, for what I’ll never know. I didn’t deserve his consideration. You heard Abel, I’m an unremarkable. I my have even be less than that. He gave me that card, telling me if I ever needed anything to call him. There’s more than a few times I’ve held that card in my hand, wondering if I made the right decision not calling him.” She sighs. “Do you know him? I can’t imagine so. I mean what would a demon lord need with an acquaintance like him anyway?”

“You’d honestly be surprised, my dear.”

His armored footsteps thump loudly as he makes his approach.

“It’s as you said Lord Augustus.” Abel addressed. “He refused to sire the gem on the spot. You’re sure he’ll mate the woman eventually?”

“I’m sure,” he cracks a smirk, “I sent you in her direction for a reason. There’s something about her he won’t be able to resist. My dear brother is hopelessly predictable, but that’s not a concern right now. I’m more than prepared for the long game. What concerns me now is your devotion to the cause and your congregation’s loyalty; it still lies with Trigon even though he’s long since abandoned the church. I’m not up to entertaining reconditioning. Luckily I’m able to quell these concerns in one swing.” Augustus stretches one arm in front of, his open palm facing the ceiling. A black orb manifests itself, eventually forming the shape of sword. He then grasps the weapon by the hilt, offering it to Abel. “Show me your devotion Abel. Your lord demands blood. The blood of those fool enough to place their faith in Trigon.”

Abel takes the blade offered to him, “For the glory of Augustus.”

*I might make a one shot outlining this interaction. I guess it depends on the reaction to this.

**Translated from latin: Come forth our lord. Accept of our offering, so the gem maybe sired.

Read this and more at: https://www.fanfiction.net/~olboypacman

#Teen Titans #Arella #Trigon #OC #fanfiction #fanfic #FF.net

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sunflowersupremes · 6 years

Text

The Starhawk and the Slave: Chapter 4

Yondu’s (accidental) rescue by the Ravagers.

Characters: Stakar Ogord, Aleta Ogord, Yondu Udonta, Martinex T'Naga, Mainframe (Marvel), Krugarr (Marvel), Charlie-27 (Marvel)

Additional Tags: Slavery, Torture, Rape, Abuse, child endangerment, Non Explicit, it’s all in the past, flashbacks in later chapters

Read Chapter on AO3, Read Entire Story on AO3

Aleta was alone.

She’d run off the rest of the stragglers - her ‘girls’ as Stakar so creatively called them - and sat in the darkness of the forgotten rec room she’d laid claim to years ago. She needed silence, which she was greatly enjoying until the door opened and Charlie ducked his head inside. “Permission to enter?”

“You’re already in, you know.”

He lumbered inside, sitting on the floor rather than testing out the durability of one of the chairs. It was probably for the best, they’d learned years ago that most chairs weren’t meant for someone of his size. Hauling a replacement down to the old rec room would just be annoying. “You’re brooding.”

“I am not.”

“Yes, you are.”

Aleta glared at him, breaking the silence again to ask, “Did my husband send you?”

“Is he your husband again? I lose track.”

He was. They’d re-renewed their vows as Charlie was more than aware. He’d been there for crying out loud. “You’re a dick.”

“I’ve always had it.” He patted his crotch with a grin.

The most frustrating thing about Charlie - in Aleta’s mind, most people considered it one of his better qualities - was his inability to be drawn into arguments. Bar fights, tussles with customers or clients, brawls among the crew, illegal street boxing - anything physical and violent you couldn’t keep him out of. But when it came to fights with words he refused to step up to the plate, no matter how much Aleta goaded him.

“Where’s Marty?” she huffed, pushing herself up, a bottle of whiskey swinging from her hand. The Pluvian she could fight with. He wasn’t as fun as Stakar - swing a fist at Martinex and he’d probably jump under a table (or you'd break your hand on his face) - but he would quite happily yell back if she pushed the right buttons.

“With Mainframe, working on something of Udonta’s.”

“Udonta?” It took a moment for Aleta to process what he was saying. “Is that the slave?” She took a swig from her drink and felt the burn as it slid down her throat. “Damn,” she muttered, mostly to herself, “he named it?”

“You do not like him.”

“My husband or his newest pet?”

Charlie laughed, swiping Aleta’s bottle from her and downing half of it in one gulp. “Both, I suppose.”

Aleta snatched her drink back from him, making sure to cuff him upside the head. “He’s already attached. We don’t need any more kids around.” They’d just die, after all. Charlie’s eyes saddened and he patted her shoulder, mindful of his strength for once. Aleta resisted the urge to shout at him for being stupid and sentimental. She was the one who’d brought up the kids after all.

Tara. Sita. John.

As little as Aleta and Stakar talked about them - or any part of their past - word got out. Stakar talked about them more than Aleta did, he claimed it helped. He even went so far as to suggest that she should try talking to someone sometime. But her method was to keep them in a small, private place near her heart, where they were hers alone, not his.

“Something bad’s going to happen,” Aleta vowed, gulping the rest of the bottle in one swig. “Something with that boy and it’s going to destroy him.” She paused, looking at the now empty bottle and wondering if it was worth finding another. “It’s going to destroy us all.”

“You’re being melodramatic.”

She probably was. But there was still a creeping suspicion in her chest that things Stakar loved never seemed to stick around for long.

Stakar hadn’t considered the logistics of someone never having touched food before, but thankfully the medic, Arc, had caught him before he could accidentally give him something to eat.

“He said his stomach’s hurting,” Stakar explained, feeling slightly put off by Arc’s horrified face. “I thought food would help.” Udonta hadn't said anything so much as he had pointed at his stomach when asked if anything was bothering him, but it was close enough.

“With all due respect, Captain, food is the last thing he needs.”

“That’s fair.”

Arc tilted his head and sighed, pulling at the blue fur on his fingers nervously. “I’ve given him a shot to get his organs working again - without being used for so long, his stomach has likely shut down - which is the cause of the pain.”

“They hurt because they shut down?”

“They hurt because he’s never used them before. The shot I gave him is waking them up.” Arc sighed and reached for something on the wall behind his desk. Stakar took the opportunity to spare a glance over his reading material, unsurprisingly, it was all on Centaurians. “Give him this,” he said, passing Stakar a cup. “It’s just water with a bit of nutrients. See how he takes it.” Something in Arc’s eyes said that he half expected Udonta to spit most of it back up.

Joy.

Stakar took the drink with a nod. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Udonta was sitting up, looking around him with interest when Stakar entered his room, but as soon as he saw Stakar he slumped back, looking at the floor.

“Are you feeling better?”

“Yuh.” At least he had managed to remember that word, even if it was the only word that Stakar had managed to teach him so far. It was a start, even if it was a slow one.

But Stakar wasn’t convinced that he was magically feeling better, and his eyes narrowed slightly as he sat beside Udonta’s cot, dropping the cup Arc had given him onto a table. “Are you lying?”

It was the kind of question he would have posed to one of his friends - Aleta, Mainframe, Krugarr, Charlie 27, or Martinex - he hadn’t considered the impact it would have on the mind of the fragile rescued slave.

He also hadn’t considered how quickly Udonta could move when he was frightened.

The Centaurian practically threw himself to the ground at Stakar’s feet, pushing his forehead to the floor and licking at the ground. It was just as he had done in the cell earlier - or was it the day before? Stakar hadn’t slept and had lost track of time - but this time, the captain’s feet were within reach. Before he could do process what was going on, Udonta was pressing frightened kisses to Stakar’s boots as well. When Stakar stepped back he flinched, clearly expecting a kick, and managed to whimper, “Sor-rey.”

Kneeling beside him, Stakar placed his hand on his shoulder and ignored his flinch. “Hey, kid. Look at me.” He waited until Udonta was able to lift his head and meet his eyes, then he reached out and gently stroked his forehead. “I’m not angry. I’m not going to hurt you. No one is going to hurt you. I know you don’t understand. But please, try.”

“Tr-y,” he sounded out.

Stakar offered him an encouraging smile, wrapping an arm around Udonta’s frail shoulder and rubbing his back. “Let’s get you back into bed,” he said, pulling them both to their feet. Udonta leaned into Stakar, seeming to cling to the comfort of a gentle touch. Humoring him, Stakar settled himself on the bed beside Udonta, letting the other bask in the attention as he pointed to the cup. “That’s for you.”

Udonta tipped his head back, staring up at Stakar with confusion clearly written on his face. Stakar picked up the cup. “It’s a drink,” he explained. “Do you know what that is?”

There was a slight nod, and Stakar pressed the cup into Udonta’s hand, wrapping his fragile blue fingers around it and tapping his finger against the straw. “Suck.”

Udonta’s response to that word was instant, shrinking back from Stakar, his eyes darting to the other’s crotch, confusion and hurt in his eyes. “Not- no. Not that.” Trying hard not to think about what that reaction meant, Stakar took the cup and took a sip, then passed it back to Udonta. “Try it.”

He did as instructed, managing to get some of the liquid into his mouth. Immediately he grinned - just as toothy as the last time, but more genuine - and much of it spilled back out onto his shirt.

Stakar made a point of laughing, hoping that Udonta wouldn’t panic over the spilled liquid. “Good. Very good.” Udonta blinked up at him, one eyebrow slightly raised. “Do you like it?”

The Centaurian paused from licking his lips long enough to say, “Yuh.” He took another sip, managing to swallow most of it that time, and Stakar patted his shoulder. To his surprise - and glee - Udonta was more than happy to lean back against him as he continued sipping on the drink and Stakar checked in on his crew through his comm.

Author’s Notes:

I’m doing Camp NaNo this month with one of my own stories so updates will be slow. I’m still counting my fics as word count though because I can and I want to. I MAKE THE RULES. Plus if I write about my characters 24/7 I’ll be fed up with them pretty quick.

I KEEP WANTING TO CALL HIM YONDU AND IT TRIPS ME UP EVERY TIME I CALL HIM UDONTA. I promise he’ll get his first name soon. For the sake of my sanity. Also for the sake of my spell check with thinks, I'm writing a story about Udon Noodles.

Also, FYI, I’m making up tons of medical shit as I go. Yondu’s an alien so I doubt WebMD is gonna be much help anyway.

Don’t worry, Aleta will come around. I just wanted to info dump some of their past and she wanted to whine and also fight everyone. Mostly Stakar. She’s definitely going to fight Stakar. Ravagers don’t have a concept of “domestic violence” so I’m tempted to add that to the story’s trigger tags???

And I'm continuing my joke/headcanon about Stakar and Aleta having numerous divorces because no one stopped me.

#stakar ogord #yondu #martinex #charlie 27 #krugarr #mainframe #aleta ogord #guardians of the galaxy #ravagers #marvel cinematic universe #fan fic #fan fiction #ao3 #my writing #series: The Starhawk and The Slave

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gravitysrainbow-1x1 · 3 years

Text

@themonstrous

Darkness.

It smothered his lungs like ash and soot. It swallowed him whole. When he was in it, he was nothing. He ceased to exist. He couldn’t scream, couldn’t yell. His voice locked up inside of him like lost treasure sunken to the bottom of the sea.

Only glimpses of the world materialized before his eyes, springing him back into existence briefly, but often only to be met by the challenging glare of his own face looking back at him. Willing him to submit with the fury and fire in his gaze until he subverted his stare and lowered his eyes to the ground.

There were times when Dominic would look at his own reflection, only to see if Sebastian was looking. Looking at his life, looking at his prize. He would show him what was his, and tightly grasp onto it to prove his point and send the message home.

Sebastian was dead to the world. Only Dominic lived.

He tried to be patient. Patiently waiting the moment that Dominic’s grip on him would loosen, as it always did, after an extended period of time. Whatever magics that willed the malevolent mind into his existence always seemed to make sure of that. Dominic was not all powerful. He had limitations of the flesh, and had to sleep and rest. It was then that his iron grip would loosen, and Sebastian could leap back into the world, if only for awhile.

He wanted to see Rian again, if nothing else. He just had to be patient. He just had to be patient.

That thought whispered in his head again and again until the moment finally came. It took weeks this time before Dominic was finally forced to stop, and Sebastian shuddered to wonder the lengths he had gone to stay awake towards the end of it.

Sebastian’s eyes sprung open wide, jutting up from the single mattress he laid on, his hands grasping at his neck as he struggled to breathe again as he was thrust back into the world. But, something was wrong. The world was dark, and dim. Small. He was in a tiny room, only big enough to fit a mattress. As his eyes adjusted to the low light, he noticed a small fridge nestled into the wall of the room near the door where a keypad lock faced inside.

Immediately, Sebastian panicked, jumping up from the bed and rushing the door. He grabbed at the doorknob but it didn’t budge. Locked. He knelt down to the key pad and tried various number combinations to try to unlock it, but every attempt triggered a bright red light to flash in his face.

“No -- no, no, no,” Sebastian muttered fearfully, looking around the dim room now for any other option, but his eyes trained on something moving. The walls were lined with mirrors, and immediately opposite him, he saw his oppressor wearing his skin starring smugly at him through the glass.

There was anger on his face that he’d never seen before. He didn’t know that he was even capable of looking so angry, and it chilled him to the bone, lifting the hair on the back of his neck and down his forearms. Before Sebastian could speak, his reflection’s face twisted into violent rage as he reeled back onto his back foot and threw his first at the mirror. A crack splintered through the glass despite no physical contact being made. The walls shook, and Sebastian fell back onto the floor, startled and afraid.

“You shouldn’t have done what you did,” his reflection said, his own mouth only moving to frown in distress. Dominic glared at him, the dimness in the room casting shadows around his features in a way that made him look almost hellish and dead inside. “I tried to be kind to you, and you spat in my face by trying to get rid of me. Despite that, I gave you a space to paint and you’d never have to worry about food or shelter again if you just stayed put and minded your place -- but you spat on that kindness too, didn’t you?”

Sebastian starred at him, eyes wide and misty under the pressure and fear tightening his chest. “This is my body, I -- I get to decide what to do,” he tried to yell back at his reflection unconvincingly, but it prompted it to bellow with laughter.

“Your body? You gave up rights long ago. This is my body now. I make the decisions, and I decided that you’ll be waking up in here where I can keep you from interfering with my work, my life, and my lover,” Dominic hissed at him, his voice growing louder as he hit the sore subject that had been his last straw, sealing the deal on Sebastian’s fate.

“You can’t -- you can’t do that-” Sebastian started, but Dominic quickly interrupted him. “But I already have. Give it up. Give up control to me and we won’t have to be in here,” he paused, correcting himself, ”I won’t have to be in here stuck with you. You’ll be nothin’, but I promise you, that’s better than the alternative of being stuck here with me.”

“I’ll make every moment your eyes are open a living hell. You can count on that.”

Sebastian snatched his eyes shut to make him disappear, the motion making the tears in his eyes escape down his cheeks. He slid to the ground in his despair, doing everything he could to keep his eyes closed. Anywhere he could look in the room there was a mirror.

The longer he kept his eyes closed, the more he realized he was in darkness again. The same kind of darkness as when he was trapped inside of his own head, but now, he was trapped in his own body and there were no glimpses of sunlight, no brief flashes of Rian’s handsome face and glittering smile to get him through.

#themonstrous #self: the twins #self:dominic #self:sebastian

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btsinspirationtakesme · 7 years

Text

Roses in Thorns (Pt 4)

Being apart of the countries greatest mafia families had its problems; enemies grew from every thorn and you were one of the greatest roses to target.

You didn’t expect the greatest thorn to prick you to be he who was assigned to protect you- Jeon Jeongguk.

Genre: Angst, (the good type), drama, suspense, fluff, future smut in story line.

BodyguardJungkook, Mafia

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You were always told hatred was a strong word. You thought it was too, until you met Jeon Jeongguk. Your blood vessels dilated cold at every thought of him. You never had any violent tendencies that would warrant concern, but you wanted to knock the living daylights out of him and see his bloodied face on the ground wincing in pain.

He was assigned to protect you, and had manipulated and deceived you in the most extraordinary way.

Your mind took a flashback to waking up after you were kidnapped by him.

Bright white lights beamed down into your pupils, causing you to clench them tightly shut before slowly opening them to adjust in the light. You repeated the act a few times until you realised your limbs were still in tact and you lifted yourself up. on your elbows.

You were in a hospital, or some sort of emergency room. You were on a bed, dressed in the same clothes you had left the night of -

Jeongguk.

Anger bubbled inside you, making your body feel ice cold as you re-called what had happened. Jeongguk had made you unconscious by using a white cloth and some sort of chemical to instantly knock you out. Whilst all this time your father had trusted him, your mother had adored him and you were starting to feel he was even becoming some sort of…friend.

You huffed, you should have known better.

A loud bang came from the door you had seen on the far right of the room, alerting you of someones presence. A tall man followed by an entourage of others dressed in jet black, a group of thugs by the looks of it. You could spot Jeongguk behind them, a stony expression on his face.

Your heart rate accelerated in fear, and like he noticed Jeongguk flicked his eyes towards.

“Y/N.”

The man dressed in a white lab coat started to inspect your vitals without your permission. Your throat was dry, so your croaky voice protested his invasion into your private space.

“G-get away from me.” You said, trying to convey the anger that was bubbling inside.

His next move threw you off, he reached for your pants as if to undo them. Your heart rate tripled in fear, and you yelled a croaky scream.

“GET AWAY FROM ME!”

Jeongguk had kidnapped you to a rapist. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you panted. You didn’t think he’d be THIS bad.

“Little miss Y/N, stay quiet or else something really bad happens.” His voice threatened you and took on a deadly tone. He reached for your crotch again but you tried to move away, lifting your legs up but they were incapable of moving.

It was like you were paralysed.

“Just checking to see you’re in tact little girl, stay still- and it won’t hurt.”

You blacked out.

You had remembered then that upon waking up the man in the white lab coat man had your arms tied up to the bedposts. You couldn’t move.

“Where’s Jeongguk?” The first thing that came out of your mouth wanted to know where the traitor was. Scanning the room, the entourage of men in black were no where to be seen now.

“Your little boyfriend showed his true colours, hey?”. The lab coat man taunted. “Jeongukk!” He called out, refusing to move his eyes away from you.

He entered the room, face set in stone.The demeanour of Jeongguk was different from how you first met him. Gone was the cocky attitude, gone was the flirty demeanour he carried himself around with.

He was cold. Ice cold, with an exterior of metal and stony face.

He didn’t look at you, only addressing the man in the white lab coat.

“She asked for you. I’ll be outside if you need me.” He explained before patting Jeongguk’s back and leaving the room.

With a reluctant attitude, Jeongguk turned to face you. You on the other hand, wanted to show how angry you were. You wanted to yell. You wanted to throw a brick at him and tell him how you’d love to see him chopped up and fed to your dogs.

Tears welled up. You just felt betrayed. You looked at him as you bit your lips to stop yourself from bawling.

You opened your mouth, attempting to say something bad but your voice cracked.

Jeongguk POV:

He had to keep a poker face. He couldn’t let his emotions come out, not now. Not when he had worked so hard keep you alive.

He turned to look at you, and he wished you would blow a casket at him. He wanted to see you screech and scream, to erupt in anger. That would make keeping a poker face easy. It would make keeping up his facade, easy.

Nothing that involved you was ever easy though.

Not now.

“H-How?” Your face was distraught, the tears threatening to spill from your eyes and croaky voice made Jeongguk physically restrain himself from taking you in his arms. He wanted nothing more than to comfort you and tell you it would all be okay, you just had to trust him. But that was too risky and would lead to things he could never forgive himself for.

“You fool.” The words came out of his mouth heavily, but he hoped they sounded convincing.

“You really thought that Jeon Jeongguk would protect you.” Jeongguk sighed, the deepness of his voice even upsetting him with its stern tone.

“What’s going on Jeongguk, tell me it’s not true?” Your voice tugged at his dark heart.

He rolled his eyes.

“Save that for your Prince Taehyung.” He said, referring to your neighbour. Your picture perfect neighbour that irked Jeongguk. If only you knew the secret mission of Kim Taehyung’s father was what Jeongguk was trying to protect you from.

“T-H-He touched me Jeongguk. To make sure I was a virgin. H-am I going to be raped?” Jeongguk could tell hysteria was overtaking you, and he was on his last straw before blowing his entire mission and collapsing at the sight of you crying.

He hated you. You’d ruined everything. You made him feel.

In theory, you were supposed to be sold off to the black market, but Jeongguk would never let that happen in the way that was planned. It was all part of his plan to save you but also get the people he was ‘working’ with to the dead.

Jeon Jeongguk may have been an heir to one of the most famous and elusive mafia families, but he had left them. He was his own person, and if that meant outing some of the filthiest of the mafia world by working with them- then so be it. It gave him purpose.

He had to keep his composure because it took every cell of his body to resist his inclination just to go over to you and tell you everything.

“I’m not your saviour, get that through your head.” Jeongguk said lowly, shooting you his attempt of a threatening stare before walking out of the room and slamming the door behind him.

The doctor dressed in the lab coat known as Jackson was leaning against the door, listening in on Jeongguk’s conversation.

“She’s hot isn’t she? Might do a little ‘extra checking’ to have some fun.” He winked at Jeongguk.

Slamming him hard against the wall, Jeongguk tightened his grip on the doctors neck in rage.

“If you do anything more than the boss wants, he’ll have your throat on the table for dinner. I’ll make sure of it.” He seethed, masking his anger with another reason.

He let the man go eventually after staring him out, but the ferocious look on his face would stay if he wanted to survive without being caught.

“Y-Yes”. Jackson massaged his neck as his eyes bulged in fear. Jeongguk was livid.

“Touch her any more than necessary and your a dead Jackson.” Jeongguk threatened once more, before flinching his eyes at the blonde haired doctor.

“Assign her a room, make sure its habitable, tend to her wounds and make sure she’s properly fed.” Jeongguk said after a pause to the doctor. Jackson looked at Jeongguk with incredulity, he sounded a bit too caring towards the girl for someone that wanted her dead or worse.

“Good food, Jeongguk?” Jackson challenged.

“Yes, you moron. She’ll sell for a good price in the market if she’s healthy.” Jeongguk quickly saved himself with a filthy comment.

Yet it must have momentarily escaped him that he was the one to train you in all things related to self defence, and that included sneaking up on people. You were good at that, naturally. That was why he couldn’t tell you had managed to break free of the shackles you were tied up against on the bed post to over hear Jeongguk telling Jackson about selling you.

Your initial sadness morphed into anger.

Grabbing Jeongguk’s hands that were clasped around his back, you twisted the fingers on them and Jeongguk winced in pain.

“ARGH!” He yelled. “YOU BRAT!” Instantly Jeongguk spun you around and locked your hands behind your back, rendering you incapable of movement.

Your attempts to thrash your head around to knock him out were stopped by his chin finding a place to plant itself inside the crook of your neck.

Yo winced in pain as his pointy jaw dug into your already fragile neck.

“If you move, you/re going to be sold to the first bidder we have irregardless of age. Fancy some old cock then, Y/N?” Jeongguk hissed.

You were heaving “Get off me you monster!” You yelled, growing more frustrated with your situation.

“Get her to a room Jackson, do as I say.” Jeongguk ignored your protests and thrusts you towards Jackson who copied Jeongguk’s grip on you.

With his last threatening glare at you, he turned his back and left the corridor. He needed to speak to his ‘boss’, who could update him on how your family were looking for you and the ‘plan’ to sell you off.

It was going to be a long night.

“Enter.”

The man known as ‘boss’ was masked, but Jeongguk knew who he was. It was Min Yoongi, the most unstable man to wreck havoc in Y/N’s life. The father of Y/N’s best friend. Jeongguk was ‘working’ for him, and it was fine at first. It was the perfect opportunity to get away from his family. That was before he met Y/N.

Min Yoongi had to die. It was the only way to keep you safe.

“She’s been taken to a room, being prepped for sale as we speak.” Jeongguk said, acting unfazed. He pressed down the bile that was rising in his throat.

“Excellent. Take pictures of the whole debacle. I want her father to come crawling to us.” Yoongi said, a dainty smile on his face.

“And Jeongguk?” Yoongi called out, just as Jeongguk was about to leave the room.

“Good job. Get some rest, you deserve it.” Yoongi said, and Jeongguk could laugh at his attempt to seem friendly.

He nodded.

Rest wouldn’t be something Jeongguk would have until he knew you were safe, and this momentary diversion was part of his plan to keep you alive. If that meant you would have to hate him for the rest of your life, then it would be a worthy price to pay for him.

Later that night, Jeongguk had gotten the details of the room you were staying in. He resisted every cell in his body to come in and comfort you, because the tears coming from your door were breaking his resolve.

“Argh, it hurts!” Resolve be damned, Jeongguk thought. He entered the room to find you sitting on the floor with shards of glass sticking out from your feet.

“What did you do?!” He seethed.

“Get away from me, you monster.” You replied, flinching away from his attempt to help you up.

“Why’d you even care if I die, let me!” You moved further away, leaving drops of blood on the wooden floor as you moved your bloodied foot. You had kicked the drawer nearby in anger and the vase had smashed on your foot.

“If you don’t let me help you, I’ll have to call Dr. Kim.” Jeongguk said, and noticed your visible shudder.

Seeing as you were quietly content being frozen in the same spot, Jeongguk lifted you up bridal style.

“You know if you weren’t a pyschopathic asshole of a monster, I would have probably found you charming.” You said, stiffening your body in his arms.

Jeongguk ignored you, because he knew he deserved it. Laying on on the king sized bed, Jeongguk took a first aid kit out from the cabinet close by. He knew most rooms here had a first aid kit, incase someone shot in anger.

“My family are going to find me.” You declared, watching him sift through the kit.

“Taehyung will find me.” You said, more to yourself than anything. Jeongguk laughed at that, if Kim Taehyung wanted to keep hold onto his fathers legacy then he would have to accept his fathers view on overthrowing your family.

“You’ll be long gone by the time Taehyung finds where you are.” He said, wrapping a gauze around the centre of your foot.

To anyone else, the action looked almost loving, but that words could cut through bullet wounds.

“And where am I exactly?” You asked, no one seemed to care about letting you know if you were in the country or in Antartica.

Jeongguk smiled. “Cute”. He said.

“Your captor can tell you where you were when he takes you away.” He finished pressing down on the bandage around your foot and locked the first aid kit up.

The way he spoke about your captor so naturally scared the living daylights out of your soul, but you couldn’t let him see. Not after you broke down, you didn’t want to show any weakness to his monstrous presence.

“As for now, rest, look pretty and take care of yourself. You need to look good for bidding.” His eyes didn’t flinch as he shot the cold words at you.

He had to be a monster to you. He had to make you believe he was irredeemable, because that was how his plan would work. If you realised his game, then you would do something yourself to help and that would lead to something even more riskier: losing you for good. Yoongi’s men were perceptive, and any sign of friendship between you two would get you both killed.

________________________________________________________

Y/N POV:

A week had passed in the hell hole as you liked to call it. There was no sign of your father, oh your all powerful father who could take down clans. No sign.

You felt truly alone.

Your only moment of solace came from the traitor who betrayed you, and you wanted to puke after every encounter with him. He found excuses to visit, and the pathetic side of you believed it was because he wanted to make sure you were okay. The rational side of you realised that he checked in on you to make sure you weren’t dead. That would mean his job would be on the line.

What a monster, you thought.

What a monster you wanted to kill, fuck and love all at the same time. It was messed up. Your whole life was about to be even more messed up. The daughter of a mafia heir was going to be sold on the market like cattle.

Humiliating.

That day was today. Two women with masks had come in, armed with guns and force dressed you in a white dress with a flower pinning some of your hair on the side.

They forced red lipstick on your face, but you swiped it off with the back of your hand after they left.

You wanted to cut the dress full of holes, but the room had nothing apart from a hair brush.

“It’s time. Come.” A man in a plague mask made his presence known from just outside your room. Two of his henchmen by the looks of it took your arms on both sides, lifting you up.

“Walk or we’ll shove you.It’ll hurt.” The gruff voice of one of the men said.

Reluctantly taking steps forward, they led you across the hallway and to a numbered room. It was much bigger than expected, decorated like an actual art bidding gallery. There was a red carpet forming a T shape and men dressed in suits sat on cheers on both sides of the room.

They cheered on your entrance. One whistled. Bile rose up your throat.

“WALK.” The henchman forced your feet on the red carpet, and a voice from behind you started to announce your presence on mic.

“Take a look, boys. I’m sure I need no explaining on who this is, you all know very well.”

There were cheers. They must be enemies of your father, using you to spite him.

“Let’s start the bidding at $5,0000?”

“Going once..?”

An arm objected.

“6,0000?”

The process repeated until your worth was determined in numerical form that went just over $1million.

$1million to spite your family. Unbelievable, your father had clearly made enemies to last a life time. They were all old and middle aged, meaning your father probably even knew some of these men.

Your world was horrible.

You lost track of how much was being gambled, but you realised you had been sold after 5 minutes to a man in the very back of the room. Like the majority here, he was also middle aged.

You felt sick, and couldn’t stop your body lurching forward to hurl.

Your world went blank, again.

The bed you woke up in was not yours, and it wasn’t the bed from your captors mansion.

It..had a distinct smell.

You must have been hallucinating, because it smelled like- Jeo

“Hey there, princess.” Jeongguk.

“Why haven’t I been sold?” You shot.

“Oh, you have.” He said casually.

“Who? He was middle aged.”

“Yeah he works for me.”

“For you?”

You gulped.

“You mean to...say...”

“Welcome to your new home, princess.”

___________________________________________________________

A:N: WHAT IS JEON PLAYING AT THE LIL SHIT.

#bts reactions #jungkook fic #bts fic #taehyung fic #namjoon #jin #jimin #bts scenarios #jungkook angst #jungkook mafia

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stallingdemons · 7 years

Text

What Do You Feel | 002

Who: Jughead Jones What: Riverdale

Part One ||| Part Two

Veronica looked over her shoulder, frowning as she watched [Y/N] laugh and chuck a few french fries in Reggie’s direction. It had been weeks since the whole Jughead and [Y/N] incident and [Y/N] was keeping her distance from her normal group of friends. Turning back around, she reached for her milkshake and fiddled with the straw. “I know the topic of [Y/N] is sort of off limits but I miss her.”

Without missing a beat, Jughead’s eyes snapped up from his laptop, his cold expression icing her bones. Normally, he could tune out his friends but ever since the rift between him and [Y/N], his focus had been all over the place.

Putting her hands up in submission and then crossing them over her chest, she leaned back into the booth, frowning again. “Sorry but I’m just speaking the truth.” Lowering her gaze to the table, she sighed. “She should be sitting here with us, not with the fuckboys and fuckgirls of Riverdale.” Veronica shuddered at the group of people [Y/N] had taken comfort with for the past few weeks.

Kevin avoided Jughead’s ice cold stare, nodding in agreement. “Not trying to throw myself to the wolves but I agree with Veronica.” Running his finger over the faded design of their booth, he flickered a look behind him towards [Y/N]. He could tell that she wasn’t entirely happy by the way her smile would falter just a smidge after she finished her laugh, [Y/N] was extremely easy to read for those who truly knew her.

Archie, who sat directly behind Jughead and the others in a separate booth, chimed in. “It’s weird not having her here. I mean, have you tried talking to her since it happened, Jughead?”

Betty violently turned around, her eyes narrowed with a look that could have killed. She had been there for the aftermath and saw firsthand the broken state it left Jughead in. “Let’s change the subject, guys.” Throwing everyone dirty looks, she changed the topic onto an altercation between her and Cheryl that had happened earlier that day.

Slinging off his helmet from the day’s practice, Archie walked through halls of Riverdale High. Just as he was about to reach the locker rooms, movement at the end of the hall caught his attention. Squinting his eyes, he headed for [Y/N]. He watched as she placed a physics textbook back into her locker, he figured that she had just gotten done with a tutor session. [Y/N] always helped out her classmates whenever they needed an extra hand.

“[Y/N].”

She gasped, clutching the locker door from being startled. “Archie! Shit, you scared me.”

Leaning against the lockers, he frowned slightly. “Sorry, didn’t mean to.”

Pressing her lips together, she tore her eyes from his and started to shove some books into her bag. “Need something?” She finally asked.

“Yeah, I do. An explanation.” He firmly stated.

Closing her locker, she frowned. “Archie,” she warned.

“Come on, [Nickname].” Archie pleaded. He hadn’t been lying when he said it had been weird with [Y/N] straying from their friendship. Even his father was noticing the absence of a certain girl. “It’s been weeks and we’ve barely held a conversation long enough for me to know if you’re okay. We’re best friends or at least I thought we were. I care about you, [Nickname]. You just cut me off, you cut everyone off. I wanted to be there for you.” Archie reached out for her arm as she went to turn away, pulling her back gently, and shaking his head. “You and Jughead can coexist in our lives, [Y/N].”

“Shouldn’t you be at practice,” she asked coldly.

Letting go of her arm, he narrowed his eyes lightly. “It got cut short today.”

Frowning, she looked down, “I’m sorry, Archie. I didn’t mean it like that.” Looking back up, she sighed. Closing her locker, she gave a small smile. “I know you guys wanted to be there for me but I didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t want you guys defending him and making me feel like I was wrong for ending things.” Adjusting the strap of her bag, she placed her back against her locker. “And to be completely honest if I stuck around, Jughead wouldn’t have. And he really needed you guys more than I did.”

Archie pressed his lips together, [Y/N] had a point. She was easy to get along with, people flocked to her. Jughead wasn’t necessarily a loner but he kept to himself and only trusted those who knew him. And that list wasn’t very long. Giving her a smile, he pulled her into a hug. Squeezing her tight and relishing the time he had left with her. He could tell that tomorrow she’d continue to avoid him.

“Juggie,”

Jughead looked up from his blank screen, finding Betty standing in the doorway of the Blue and Gold room. Clearing his throat, he lowered the laptop. “Yeah?”

Stepping inside, she walked slowly towards him. All Betty wanted was for Jughead to get out of his mood. “How are you feeling?”

Groaning, he ran both his hands over his face and kept them there. “Isn’t that the million dollar question.” Peaking through his fingers, he sighed, “I don’t know.”

Betty sat in front of him, frowning. “You don’t know or you don’t want to say? There’s a difference, Jug.”

Pulling his hands down, he narrowed his eyes. “What?”

Biting her lip, “You love [Y/N], you have to. And I’m not saying that you have to love her. I mean it as there’s no way that you don’t.” Betty had witnessed the romance between her friends happen. It was just a gradual fall. Every day, she’d notice that they’d sit just a little bit closer than the day before, their looks would linger for a second or two longer, and that their smiles were wider by the day. It was such a sweet, innocent kind of love that formed between them. Betty wanted nothing more than to talk about it but she knew that the minute she said something, they’d shy away and never return.

Jughead closed his eyes, “Betty.” He didn’t want to talk about it. He just wanted to forget about it and let it die. If [Y/N] wanted to run off with another group then so be it.

“Why didn’t you tell her how you felt, Juggie? This whole thing could have been avoided and your relationship would’ve been stronger.”

“You wouldn’t understand,” he mumbled.

“Try me, Juggie.” Betty murmured.

Biting down on his thumb, he looked away from her intent gaze. Mumbling, he moved his thumb away from his lips. “When we were all little, my dad used to tell me that I was going to fall in love with her and that he could see it happening years from then.” Betty smiled lightly at the thought of his father calling his romance. Now that she thought about it, it was sort of easy to see that Jughead and [Y/N] would have ended up together all those years ago. They had always been attached at the hip, always supporting each other through everything.“He also told me that girls like [Y/N] were dangerous.”

Betty’s brows knitted together, “I don’t understand.” Of all the people in Riverdale, [Y/N] was the least dangerous, she was always so calm and collected.

Shaking his head, he shrugged. “I didn’t either until I asked him the other day what he meant when he said that.” Running a hand over his beanie, he sighed again. “He kind of looked at me and pieced it all together. I guess I’m not as good at hiding my emotions like I thought I could. He figured out that [Y/N] and I were more than friends and that we broke up. He just looked at me and asked me what I felt and that, that was the reason why she was dangerous.” Meeting Betty’s eyes, he frowned. “How do I tell her words that have never been formed or ever existed. Because that’s what I feel whenever I’m around her.”

Betty placed a warm hand over his, “Then you use words that already exist.”

[Y/N] didn’t know how the fight started or what made it happen, all she did know was that she and Archie walked straight into a fighting ring in the student lounge. Their classmates all cheering and recording Reggie and Jughead brawling in the middle of the room.

Exchanging looks with Archie, they both threw down their books and backpacks. Before Archie had the chance, [Y/N] beat him to it and grabbed Reggie by the back of his shirt and yanked him off of Jughead.

Slinging him away from her, [Y/N] snarled out while Archie quickly helped Jughead up off the ground. “Back off, Reggie.” The crowd quickly dispersed as Archie threateningly told all of them to leave or else there would be another fight.

Reggie scoffed, fixing his shirt from the scuffle. “He had it coming.”

“I think it was the other way around, buddy.” Jughead sneered as he held his bleeding nose. “I hope you choke on all that shit you talk.”

“That’s it, you little-” Reggie went for it but [Y/N] was quicker. Planting her feet firmly on the ground, she shoved him as hard as she possibly could causing him to stumble backwards onto the couch.

“-I said back off, Reggie!” [Y/N] snapped. She was absolutely livid, the fact that Reggie and Jughead were fighting infuriated her. [Y/N] hadn’t been a huge fan of Reggie but she accepted him for his flaws and tried to tolerate him. There were moments where she could see herself being friends with him but after today, she wanted nothing to do with him. Whether Jughead started the fight or not.

“Don’t put your hands on me or-”

“-or what?” Archie growled. Gently grabbing [Y/N]’s arm, he pulled her behind him. Stepping directly in front of his captain, he squinted his eyes. Archie didn’t think Reggie would swing at a girl but he didn’t want to take that chance. Despite [Y/N] avoiding him for the last few weeks, it didn’t matter. He was going to protect his friends no matter who it involved.

Reggie was about to respond but thought against it the second Betty, Veronica, and Kevin all came barging through the door to see the commotion.

[Y/N] was fuming, it was clear to anyone that was watching her that her blood was boiling. The students that were left were all in shock at her current demeanor. She had never shown anger this way not even when Cheryl had it out for her.

Taking a deep breath, she turned around to look at Jughead. He sported some cuts and a profusely bleeding nose. Glancing down at her wrist, she cursed silently, 2:54. The school’s nurse had already packed up and gone home for the day. Reaching over towards the table, she plucked a few tissues from the box and handed them over to Jughead. With her voice low and comforting, she placed a hand on his shoulder, ushering him towards the door. “Come on, let’s go.”

All of her friends exchanged looks, surprised that she was even talking to Jughead. Veronica pursed her lips, leaning towards Betty and quietly whispering. “Do you think this will mean we’ll have [Nickname] back?”

Betty watched carefully as [Y/N] gently guided Jughead past her, “I hope so but I don’t know.”

Leaning down to grab her backpack and books, she heard Reggie scoff, “Yeah, go run back to your little freakshow boyfriend.”

Tightening her grip on Jughead who tensed underneath her, she gave him a look as to not respond. Slinging her bag over her shoulder, her hand left Jughead as she turned to look Reggie in the eyes. “Cry me fucking river, Reggie. It was never going to happen.” Opening the door, she motioned for Jughead to go.

“You would have been a waste of my time anyway.”

Archie lost it, shoving him against the wall, “Hey! Watch that fucking mouth!”

Rolling her eyes, she gave Archie a smile, feeling stupid for shutting her friends out of her life. “Thanks Arch but,” looking at Reggie, she wore a look of disgust on her face. “you can only offend me if you mean something to me and Reggie, honey, you aren’t worth a damn thing to me.”

The silence was killing him, but he didn’t dare speak a word. Jughead just sat quietly in the nurse’s office while [Y/N] sneakily shuffled through the cabinets. Looking up when she kneeled down in front of him, he met her eyes. A sharp pain shot through his chest because all he wanted was to kiss her and tell her how much he had been an idiot for not going after her.

Biting her lip, [Y/N] handed him a wet rag to wipe his bloody nose. Watching him clean himself, she started to work on the cut just above his right eyebrow. After a few minutes of unbearable silence, she finally stood up and asked the question she had been dying to ask. “Why were you two fighting?”

Jughead debated on responding, but knew that he could never really shun her out the way she did with him. Looking down at his hands, he shrugged. “Just said some things I didn’t like.”

“Like?” She pushed.

He stood up too, walking past her and leaning against the nurse’s counter. “It’s Reggie, [Y/N]. He says shit all the time and it just pissed me off.” Avoiding her raised brow, he mumbled. “He was just talking about you.”

Tilting her head, she stood in front of him, with her arms crossed. “Saying what exactly?”

Taking a deep breath, he met her gaze. “That he was this close to sealing the deal with you. That he was going to take you to one of the rooms during Cheryl’s party tomorrow night.” Breaking their eye contact, he gave an irritated sigh, “It just made me snap because the thought of you-” Jughead quickly closed his mouth. He didn’t want to go there. He wasn’t ready.

Moving closer, she raised a brow. “The thought of me what? The thought of me losing my virginity to Reggie made you upset?” [Y/N] shook her head, her hands grabbing his. Her movement caused Jughead’s head snap up and look her in her eyes.

Nodding, he chewed on his lip. “Yeah.”

“Oh, Jug.” Dropping her hands from his, she brought one up to caress his cheek. “I already told you that you were the only one I wanted to claim it.”

“Yeah but that was before you broke up with me.” He said coldly.

Pulling back her hand, she nodded. “Yes but,” trailing off, she scoffed at the idea of Reggie having her virginity and the idea that he thought he could take it. “you couldn’t have possibly believed that I would let Reggie Mantle of all people-”

“-it wasn’t that, [Nickname].” Jughead interrupted, getting slightly frustrated. Gently pushing past her, he paced a few steps before turning around to look at her confused expression. “It was the way he was talking about you, [Y/N]. Like, like you were some kind of score. A thing that could be won. You aren’t an item, [Nickname]. You’re a person, a person with feelings, a person with feelings that broke up with someone who also had feelings he couldn’t explain.”

“Well,” biting her lip, “it means a lot that you’d stick up for me but,” she motioned towards his bruised eye and cuts, “was it worth bucking up to the Captain of the football team, Jug? I mean you got some really good licks in but not enough evidence on his face to back it up.”

“I wasn’t going to sit there and let him say those things about you, [Y/N].” Shaking his head, he scoffed, “It was a matter of time before Archie heard them and then what?”

Sighing, [Y/N] stepped forward. Throwing her arms around his neck, she pulled him in close. Her grip tightened when she felt him embrace her back. Fighting back tears, she whispered out. “I miss you, Juggie.”

Closing his eyes, he breathed, “I miss you too.”

Pulling away just enough for her to look him in the eyes, she murmured, “Can we take baby steps? I’m not completely over the fact that you can’t tell me what you feel but I guess I have to accept that we just work better without words but I need to go slow.”

Jughead couldn’t resist kissing her, both of his hands flew up her cheeks and pulled her into a kiss. It lasted for a few seconds but it was enough to give him courage for what he had to say next. Resting his forehead against hers, he sighed lightly. “I know that wasn’t slow but I just want you, [Nickname]. That’s it. Nothing else but your flaws, mistakes, laughs, jokes, sarcasm, everything. I didn’t know what I felt until you walked away because everything I ever felt with you was normal. I had never felt any other way before. And then when you walked away. I felt broken. I felt like my entire world came crashing down around me and now...now I understand those lame sappy sad songs about broken love.” He chuckled with her, suddenly feeling a little bit better after hearing her giggle.

“Juggie,” she breathed.

“Love isn’t supposed to be easy. It’s supposed to be worth it and no one else is worth an ounce of my attention besides you. Years from now when we’ve said goodbye to this shit town, I want to look at you by my side and think how lucky I am to have kept you this long.”

[Y/N] couldn’t respond, she was choked up. This was what she wanted to hear. That Jughead had the same exact plans as she did, that she wasn’t the only one feeling this way. Smiling, she pressed her lips against his.

I didn’t see her love, I felt it plainly as the sun. -atticus

#jughead #jughead jones #jughead jones imagine #jughead jones x reader #riverdale #riverdale imagines #riverdale gif #jughead jones gif #jughead gif #jughead x reader #jughead imagines #riverdale x reader #cole sprouse #cole sprouse gif

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lord-of-some · 5 years

Text

The Demons Within Ch.1-3

This was it.

The straw that broke the camel’s back, and what an enormous straw pile was on the back of this camel.

And so, as it all became too much, I felt my control slipping and my vision was going fuzzy around the edges and I knew that I couldn’t hold it back for much longer.

I gave all I had to hold this back, and as the last of my effort drained out through the tips of my toes and the ends of my fingers,

I threw my head back and let the feeling wash over me,

And I relished in the feeling of giving up control,

As the tidal wave of relief finally washed my brain clean of my resistance, I knew that this is one feeling that I’d never be able to return from.

CH.1

They’d never been particularly remarkable in any meaningful way, they were the youngest of five children and so everything about them was either overshadowed by their siblings own achievements or ignored and written off as being a symptom of being the youngest child. That didn’t mean that they weren't a valued member of the family, and I’m sure I’d heard their parents tell them that, at some point, maybe.

But that wasn’t important, although it does explain how Johnathan’s family could go on without realising what was going on beneath what was visible. If there was one thing I’d known Johnathan to be good at, it was hiding things, and not just physical things, although those too, but John could do whatever he wanted and then talk both of our way out of it, despite this we kept our noses clean, most of the time, but seeing that gleam in his eye as I saw him constructing an argument as to where Mrs. Johnson’s apples had gone or spinning a blanket of tall tails so that Mr. Franklin would leave our parents out of it was something unearthly. He’d look whoever had the problem directly in the eyes and tell them exactly what they needed to hear to turn around and leave without even considering that their point may have had some merit. God, it was like John became a completely different person from the quiet, relaxed and rather shy boy that would ly in a field with my in the middle of the night to watch a meteor fly across the sky. I’ll never forget his reaction the day that I asked if he’d like to have dinner with me, with nothing but romantic intentions in mind, he started blushing so heavily that I was sure that he’d lose feeling in his toes and he got more flustered than I’d ever seen anyone get, particularly the ever-confidant-in-the-face-of-danger John that was now before me.

It was that night signaled a tonal shift within our relationship, suddenly we got used to lying in each other’s arms and holding hands as we walked through the aisles of the local supermarket, but what more can you expect of a rural town when your boyfriend loves holding your hand while you walk, and you happen to be a boy as well. We never cared, our displays of affection remained as open as ever and if anybody had a problem with it, John would relax his shoulders, drop my hand and walk over, and after a very small amount of time, they’d walk away and John would slip his hand back into mine and we’d get back to what we were doing. He had this energy about him that just seemed to cause people to relax, and I wasn’t immune to this. Not that he ever used that fact against anyone or for his own gain, apart from keeping us safe from other people.

As we got older we dreamed of moving out of the small town which we had spent our childhood in, and by the time we’d both turned twenty-one we were out of that place and on our way to our apartment in the not to distant city. I’ll never forget the way he looked, wind blowing through his hair as we were flying down the freeway singing along with songs that we barely knew without a care in the world. He looked truly happy in that moment.

Ch.2

Our apartment wasn’t huge, obviously two students couldn’t afford anything too extravagant, that’s not to say it was a dump. It was a two bedroom close enough to campus to ride, but not so close that we were surrounded by other students. John was completing a course in medicine and I was in the midst of a degree in symbology and the history of religions throughout the world, planning to head into academia at some point, but for now we were both working part time, him at a local cafe and me at a nearby supermarket. Our parents had assumed that the two bedrooms would be used by each of us, it didn’t matter if they didn’t know we’d taken on a roommate to cover some more of the rent, it let our own money go further and what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them, if only I’d known what would happen later on.

Mitchel was a shut in, not that we minded, but we barely saw him and he always kept his door locked, so weren’t exactly on perfect terms with him, but he paid his portion of the living costs and didn’t eat any of my cereal. Something that I’m certain John is guilty of however I’m yet to find any proof of this fact. Occasionally I’d wonder what Mitchel was in his room all day, but ultimately I cast these thoughts away, it’s not like I ever expected to find out and figured that if he tried something violent them John and I could take him.

While university was underway John and I would go out, neither of us was particularly into partying, so it left us with plenty of time to visit all of the city sites in the dark of the night. On the full moon we spent the night lying on the perfect lawn of the park with the lake sprawling in front of us and as we were laying their he turned his head to be closer to my ear and quietly whispered “You know Jay, I love you”. I think at that point I just about died. My mind went blank and it took what felt like centuries before I was able to form coherent thoughts, and when I returned to myself and was able to understand what I was seeing I saw John standing above my looking rather worried. I shook my head clear and jumped up throwing my hands around him and held my head close to his ear before whispering back “John, I love you too”, this seemed to calm him down significantly. I think he thought that he’d broken me. Believe it or not, that was the first time we’d said that to each other in the few months since we’d been getting more, romantic.

That wasn’t the last time we laid by the lake, and certainly not the last time we said those words to each other.

Once winter descended upon the city we stayed inside more. That time was also the first time I noticed that some of my notes had gone missing, they weren’t relevant any more seeing as the course had moved on and they were from the previous semester, but it was odd none the less. I chalked it up to them being misplaced someone under the pile of my current notes and documents.

We found ourselves celebrating the mundane more so in winter than summer or spring, with more nights spent cuddling on the couch watching movies, and less time spent by the lake. We still went out for dinner, occasionally we’d go somewhere nice, nice not expensive, and enjoy each others presence out in public with good food and lovesick grins.

There were few things that I knew in this world, but I knew I loved John, that’s not to say that we were a perfect couple, we still fought. The worst fight we have ever had is still burned into my memory like a horrible scar that I knew would never be forgotten. You see, losing an argument or taking the blame for something I didn’t do are two things that I refuse to do, apparently John is the same.

Ch.3

I woke up one morning after returning from work well after midnight, it turns out the night before the fridge at work had broken down overnight and nobody had noticed until it was too late and most of refrigerated or frozen products were unsalvageable, turns out it takes a long time to completely clear out an entire stock of milk when the nearest skip is a five minute walk away and you have to do it all by hand. When I walked into the kitchen to make my morning coffee, I noticed that all my notes for my next assessment in a mere two days had disappeared from the kitchen table and I was furious, admittedly at the time I didn’t consider Mitchel at the time, but at that time I don't know what I was feeling behind the heavy curtain of sleep deprivation. Although now I can see that John would have had no use for them, but in my state of despair I called for the one person who I desperately wanted to see, and for some reason that to this day still eludes me, instead of throwing myself into his arms and breaking down, I pointed an accusatory finger at him and demanded that he tell me where he’d moved my notes.

To this day I still feel a pang of regret whenever I see a pointed finger. He threw his hands in the air claiming to not know where they’d gone. That didn’t stop me shouting the question over and over at him, each time he replied with “I didn’t touch them” or “ maybe you moved them” or something to that likeness. I felt myself breaking down, and then I saw a tear roll down his cheek and the reality of what I was doing set in. I started to walk over to him, intending to attempt to calm him, but once I began to move closer he turned and ran into our room. I couldn’t stay in the apartment. I left.

I left my boyfriend, the man I loved alone, crying in our room because I hurt him. I couldn’t blame that pain on a homophobic family member or the death of a pet, that was me. I had hurt him, and then I had left him. These thoughts chased each other around my conscience for god knows how long, but when I eventually returned to myself I felt a dampness covering every inch of me. It had begun to rain, and rather long ago considering how wet everything around me was. My toes had gone numb. I turned around and headed home.

I tried to enter our room when I got home, to apologise to John and attempt to comfort him if that was what he needed, but as it turns out, while the energy that was running through my veins had fermented into the bitter feeling of regret, leaving the tang of mistakes on my tongue, apparently his had hardened into the liquor that was anger, and rightfully so. I stood there as he unleashed it upon me, and once he had been able to calm down, he turned and walked back to our room, calm on the surface but I could see that beneath his skin the anger was still strong as ever,

That night I slept on the couch.

The next day we talked, I apologised, he apologised, I insisted that he had no reason to apologise, he insisted that he did, I apologised that I’d caused him to feel that way. We talked through what happened and I made new notes, it took all afternoon, but I finished with enough time to make something nice for dinner for John and I, we ate it on the couch in front of a ridiculous looking movie that neither of us had ever heard of.

That night I promised myself that whatever happened I would never allow myself to do that to him.

#gay #mlm #mxm #romance #love

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